Chapter 574: Revenge Time

It is said that only when a person is dying can he truly understand himself.

At this moment, Malashenko, who was sitting on the shell box with the bloody suicide note in his hand, couldn't help but wonder in a daze, how well did Lieutenant Vasily know himself before he died?

Or, does Malashenko have to wait until he dies to truly understand himself? What is that red heart that is not limited to national boundaries and races?

In most cases, a person's last words are unlikely to lie, and Malashenko knows this very well.

There is nothing special about the suicide note that Lieutenant Vasily entrusted to Malashenko before his death. It is nothing more than some words and comfort left for his relatives, repeated apologies to his lover, and once again reaffirming his firm belief and not doing anything to betray.

But even such a simple suicide note, after reading it in its entirety, Malashenko felt that it was as heavy as a thousand pounds, so heavy that his right hand almost couldn't hold it and dropped it to the ground.

The living are not absolutely lucky, and the will and unfinished business of the deceased comrades need to be completed by those who are still alive.

The farther you go on the battlefield, the more things you carry behind you. When they accumulate to a certain extent, they are even enough to crush you, turning a strong man into a mad dog who wails and keeps wailing.

When those heroes who had long been annihilated into nameless dust in the existing history once again left Malashenko alive, Malashenko, who did not belong to this war-torn era, began to integrate more and more into it and felt more and more heart-wrenching pain.

People are all made of flesh, and even the strongest men have their weakest side in their hearts, even if Malashenko is just a passer-by from the future who does not belong to this era.

The rough hands brushed the blood-stained and muddy hair from top to bottom, brushed the red eyes with a little moisture, and brushed the dull face that could not see anything in his heart.

Recalling that when I was a child, I listened to my father's story about the death of a comrade-in-arms beside him, I was still innocent, and I could not feel the heart-wrenching memory.

But when Malashenko experienced all this personally as a party, the self-righteousness that he did not understand very well had long been forgotten.

The soul-tearing feeling of the death of a comrade-in-arms is not comparable to the failures and setbacks in life.

The almost silent footsteps that slowed down the force as much as possible came from far to near Malashenko's ears. Political Commissar Petrov, who had learned everything from Lavrinenko, stood there and hesitated for several seconds. Finally, with a slightly comforting tone, he spoke to the young man in front of him who had grown up little by little with his own eyes.

"Do you know his name?"

Malachenko, who was empty-headed, didn't know what he was thinking at the moment. The bloody and vivid scene was still playing in his mind.

"Yes, I can see every story that happened to him."

The bloody suicide note trembled slightly in his right hand, as if to prove to Commissar Petrov the truth of the words of the person holding it.

"The motherland was trampled by the invaders, and the defense line collapsed. Homes were displaced, and relatives trembled in the roar of terror."

"Their fate should not be like this, Uncle Peter! Look at this, look at this bloody suicide note! His wife will lose the person she loves most in this life because of this suicide note! His children will grow up in a broken home without a father, suffering from worldly and strange eyes! His parents will be heartbroken because of the loss of their blood-related flesh and blood!"

"And me! This sinner who was entrusted with everything and did not protect his comrades, how can I tell all this to his relatives!?"

Malachenko, with an excited tone, stared at his blood-red eyes and howled desperately and sadly in a helpless tone.

The hoarse and trembling tone made the calm-looking Political Commissar Petrov recall the past, recalling that he had told his deceased partner, Division Commander Cherniayev, last year that the young Malachenko was so similar to the young himself in the early years.

Recalling the night when Kirill's father died to save him, the young man, who was just an ordinary Red Army soldier, sat alone beside the cold body, crying so hard that he almost lost his voice.

The path that the predecessors have taken does not mean that the younger generations will not repeat the same mistakes. There are countless heroes who sacrificed their lives on this red land for their beliefs. Political Commissar Petrov, who can personally experience what kind of state of mind Malashenko is in at the moment, knows very clearly how pale and powerless any words of comfort are at the moment.

"I used to be like you, conceited that the living sinners were full of sins even when they breathed."

"But some things are not so taken for granted, Malashenko. No fate is destined from the beginning. It is people who choose their fate, not fate that chooses people."

"The road to continue to walk along the road ahead is our own choice. Struggle and unyielding are the fundamental reasons for being able to persist until today."

"You, me, Lavrinenko, Iushkin, Kirill, all of us may die in the next minute, or even the next second. The path you choose is because you cannot see the future clearly. What it’s like, but that’s why we have the reason to fight, work hard, and fight, because fate is not destined!”

"What comes after darkness will never be destruction. People who are in the dark night should think of the coming dawn instead of being trapped here!"

"The living must step over the corpses of fallen comrades to witness the coming hope and dawn on their behalf. If one day I also fall, you must take my place to witness what I will never have the chance to see again!"

There is a distinction between the ranks of colonel and lieutenant colonel between the partners of political commissar and regimental commander.

At this moment, everything turned into an intersection point in the abyss horizon that infinitely tended to the zero realm of nothingness. Two completely different souls across time and space had never been so close.

"I stand here and walk side by side with you carrying the legacy of two people. Now, I want to hear your answer, Malashenko."

The sound of the engine starting up resounded outside the house with the mixed symphony of tracks grinding steel. The blood-stained suicide note that seemed to weigh as much as a thousand kilograms a moment ago seemed to be clenched a little tighter.

"The future is not important, Comrade Political Commissar, what is important is that now is our moment of revenge."