After a tiring day, Malashenko did not stay up too long. After guessing that the time was almost up, he went to bed early to recharge his batteries and prepare for tomorrow's battle.
After watching the division commander go to sleep, the political commissar chose to stay and continue working the night shift.
It's not that something big will happen tonight and someone must be on duty. In this situation, even the political commissar feels that the Germans can't make any big waves.
The main reason is that Comrade Political Commissar has a mountain of reports that were just compiled today. It stands to reason that many of these things are the responsibility of Malashenko and the division commander went to get them. But considering that Malashenko will still be there tomorrow.
To go to the battlefield and go to the front line to direct the battle, the political commissar simply took over all these tasks and did them himself.
Malashenko just needs to have a good sleep and be full of energy for tomorrow's battle. It's that simple.
Malashenko, who was lying on a simple camp bed, would also be thinking, I wonder what Natalia is doing in far away Moscow at this moment? Is she already asleep? Or is she just lying in bed thinking about it like him?
What's going on?
Malashenko, who was just killing time before going to bed, suddenly started snoring loudly. Even the political commissar working outside could hear him clearly. He was a so-called "heartless" rough guy.
Just fell asleep so quickly.
"Go to sleep. Having time to sleep is also a blessing. Just think of it as compensation for the whole day of running and fighting during the day."
When he woke up, it was already time for the sun to rise. Sitting on the bedside and rubbing his eyes, Malashenko felt that he had had many dreams last night, but after covering his head and thinking about it for a while, he could not remember the dreams.
After something happened, in the end he could only take out his cigarette case, put a cigarette in his mouth, put on his coat, lit the cigarette, then stood up and pushed the door open.
"Damn, I must have been awake all night again."
The first thing he said when he woke up in the morning was an exclamation. Just because as soon as Malashenko opened the door and walked out, he saw Comrade Political Commissar sleeping on the table, with a piece of paper under his arm that he didn't know whether he had finished or not.
File, sleeping soundly.
"...."
Malashenko, who did not say anything else, took off his coat on the clothes rack beside him, walked forward slowly and put it on Commissar Petrov, not wanting to wake him up. The temperature difference between day and night in the grassland in this season is still different.
Big thief.
But even such a slight movement was not effective. Comrade Comrade Political Commissar, who had developed the habit of sleeping very lightly for many years, opened his eyes and woke up the moment he felt the change in the weight of the clothes on his body, and immediately subconsciously raised his head.
He started to look around and found Malashenko standing next to him, and then he breathed a sigh of relief.
"What kind of rest does sleeping on the table count? When you feel sleepy, just throw away these wipes. The body is the capital of the revolution. You can't risk your life for these crappy things."
Without waiting for Comrade Political Commissar to speak, Malashenko came out with a barrage of harsh words of advice. After hearing this, Comrade Political Commissar calmed down and just smiled casually.
"What value does my body have? There is not much time left. I have to seize the last moment to do more meaningful things, and at least leave some deeds in a book for future generations to judge."
".......well"
There is a generation gap in the thinking of young people and old people. This is true whether in the future world or in ancient times. Malashenko feels that the same is true between himself and his political commissar comrades.
"I went to see Karachev two days ago. He told me that you are in pretty good shape recently and you haven't increased the dosage of medicine for a long time. This is a good situation. Why can't you cherish your body more and strive for more?
How about keeping this state for a while longer? You are burning and consuming your life like this. Staying up all night is tantamount to committing suicide by taking chronic poison for you now. You know this."
Maybe his advice is useless, but there are some things that you still have to do even if you know it is useless. Malashenko chose to say this precisely because he understood this.
Malashenko's advice was sincere, and Commissar Petrov could certainly see this, but some things were not that important to comrades who had already seen through everything.
"I can feel the changes in my body, Malashenko. If I feel the need, I will go to rest early. You have advised me many times, and I will always remember it."
"Compared with this, shouldn't you pack up and get ready to go? There are less than thirty minutes left before the artillery preparations begin. You can take advantage of this moment to grab something to eat, so as not to be hungry again until dinner.
"
"..."
Malashenko couldn't say anything else, and he couldn't even be sure whether his advice was effective. In any case, the current situation would be the final result.
After Malashenko got up and left to pack his luggage, the orderly brought the breakfast he had just brought to Malashenko: it was milk oatmeal with bread. This breakfast was served in Stalin's First Guards Tank
The teacher can only say that it is ordinary.
"Put it there, I'll eat it right away, you go down first."
"Okay, Comrade Commander."
The taste of this breakfast can't be said to be great, but at least it's not unpleasant. It felt a bit bland, and Malashenko sprinkled some sugar in to enhance the taste.
Malashenko, who was almost full and full, grabbed the tank cap on the table and walked out of the field tent at the division headquarters. When he came outside, he saw Iushkin leading the crew and several good brothers who were already making final preparations.
.
Several old men were busy around the tank, enjoying themselves. When they saw Malashenko coming, they stopped what they were doing and asked.
"Hurry up, we guys can't wait. How many fascists are we going to kill today? I hope there will be more than yesterday!"
The increasingly violent Iushkin is becoming more and more war-mad, but Malashenko thinks this is a good thing. As long as the fascists can be killed, this is at least much stronger than the war-weariness.
"I don't know. Today's destination is to surround the meeting point. Once we hit there, we have completed the mission. The next step is to close the door and beat the dog. You like this the most, don't you?"
Malashenko, who was in a good mood, had the idea to make a joke with Iushkin, and the preparations for the artillery fire that heralded the official start of today's battle came soon.
Boom boom boom——
Another large cannon fired randomly like yesterday, with explosions and roars, and the earth trembled. Like Malashenko, Iushkin, half of his body hanging outside the turret, was a little curious.
"Didn't it mean that there are no German defensive positions ahead? We pushed them all away yesterday, so what are they bombing?"
Malashenko shook his head.
"I am the commander of the tank division, not the commander of the artillery division. You will know what is being blown up later when the tanks drive up."