Malashenko could barely remember the man in front of him with his head bandaged and holding his thigh, crying and crying. He was Kirill's deputy, the company deputy of the tank company.
Kirill mentioned to himself before that his evaluation of this person was pretty good.
If it were normal times, Malashenko would definitely have a good attitude towards the company deputy in front of him, and it would be necessary to at least talk and laugh.
But now, Malashenko, who has completely fallen into a "dumbfounded" state, really can't bring up the interest, let alone talk to this guy about whether you will regret it later or who will die for whom, even if this deputy company commander hugged him
No matter how hard Malashenko shook his thigh, the teacher and comrade still sat slumped on the ground like a soulless puppet with strings cut off, indifferent.
Maybe it’s because the tears have dried up, the voice has become hoarse from shouting, or maybe it’s because I really realize that what I’m doing is of no use.
In short, the wailing and shouting of the company did not last long. Malashenko, who was slumped on the ground, remained dumbfounded for a while, and finally got up on his own initiative without anyone speaking.
stand up.
"Where are you going?"
"..."
Comrade Political Commissar, who was worried about Malashenko, asked questions from behind. Comrade Division Commander, who was completely lost, only recovered his ability to think. His emotions were still at the bottom of the valley. Even Comrade Political Commissar's questions were just answered casually without interest.
.
"I don't know, you can go anywhere, it's whatever you want..."
"..."
He deliberately wanted to cheer up Malashenko and remind him of his identity as a teacher and what he should do and his obligations.
But Comrade Comrade Political Commissar, who was hesitant when he spoke, still couldn't say it out. Once upon a time, when he was as young as Malashenko, wouldn't he be in the same state when he encountered similar things? Why do you ask for a
How can young people be as calm as an old man who is half a century old, and remain indifferent no matter how strong winds and waves beat and destroy him? This is not realistic in the first place.
The ability to deal with others requires long years of accumulation and growth through repeated setbacks and injuries.
Even though Malashenko is so special and powerful, he is still just a young man after all. How could he be in his twenties without any emotional fluctuations and loss of soul when encountering such a tragedy?
Comrade Comrade Political Commissar, who had understood this point, simply swallowed his words, asked the people around him to whisper a few words, explained some necessary things, and then followed Malashenko's footsteps. But he didn't.
Mirai came to Malashenko's side and walked side by side with him, only hanging behind Malashenko a short distance away, and walked all the way back to the division headquarters.
"I know there are some things I shouldn't say, but you should cheer up as soon as possible. This is necessary, and you know why."
"..."
Malashenko understands what Comrade Political Commissar means, of course, and understands that this is what he must do, but it does take some time.
Without saying a word, Malashenko touched the cigarette case on the table, took one and put it into his mouth. He took out a lighter and started to light it. Malashenko finally spoke quietly.
"Is there anything else? Is it just this harmonica?"
"..."
The speechless person turned to Commissar Petrov, and all that was left was that he slowly took out something from his pocket.
"This is Kirill's suicide note. He should have written it a long time ago and has always carried it with him. It contains what he wanted to say to you."
Looking at the envelope handed over by Comrade Political Commissar, the blood stains on it still showed the scarlet color of life. Malashenko, who had a cigarette between his fingertips, reached out and took it without much hesitation. He had already opened it and took it.
The letter that was taken out and put back in was then unfolded in front of my eyes.
"Uncle, and Comrade Commander, when you see this, I think I have probably left this world that I love so much and can't let go of."
"How should I put it? It's not a surprise to have such a result, right? Soldiers fell on the battlefield defending the motherland. There are too many comrades who have reached the end with this fate, but it is not
The end point of our great ideals and lifelong pursuit of endeavor.”
"As you said, Comrade Commander, he worked hard and briefly to complete his journey on the road of revolutionary struggle in his life, leaving the flag in his hand to the comrades who are still moving forward behind him to inherit it, and using his body to serve them
It’s really amazing to pave the way forward! Work for your whole life for the greatest revolutionary cause of mankind, isn’t it?”
"So, I am not sad at all that I have finally reached such an end. It is precisely because of this awareness that I can face and accept it calmly. A person's life will end no matter what, and this is my end.
, I feel proud of this. When spring flowers bloom, the sun shines brightly, and cranes fly under the sky, the children who read loudly in front of quiet desks will remember that it was me and countless comrades who fought for them.
Such a tomorrow."
"I am very satisfied with this, uncle, and Comrade Commander! I believe that I will have no regrets at the last moment of my life, let alone regret and unwillingness, because I have spent my life and the most precious
My life has been dedicated to such an incomparably great cause."
Bada——
When the soft sound of tears dripping down the letter paper was heard, Malashenko, whose whole face had been covered with tear stains for some time, was crying silently.
He wanted to scream and wail something loudly, but he was infected by the true emotions conveyed between the lines. His chest felt uncomfortable. This feeling that was almost suffocating really made Malashenko feel unspeakable tearing pain.
.
After reading one piece of paper, there is the last one.
With his eyes dimmed by tears, Malashenko turned the page with trembling hands, biting his lips tightly with his teeth to prevent himself from crying. The force was so strong that it was just a hair away from breaking his lips and causing them to bleed.
"I miss my mother so much, I really miss her so much."
"From the time I can remember, she has been the only one around me. My father is a hero, but I have never seen him. I have only seen his appearance in photos. He looks similar to my uncle, Comrade Commander.
It’s as if they were carved from the same mold, their smiles are almost exactly the same! My mother also said that I look like my father.”
"It was a sunny afternoon, and my mother was busy preparing dinner in the kitchen. At that time, I was only as tall as her waist. I remember it very clearly. I held my mother's apron with my little hands, and my mother was preparing the dough in the mixing bowl.
When baking delicious bread, what I care about is not how fragrant the bread is, but the sunshine. The kitchen that afternoon was really warm and warm. It was the most unforgettable moment in my life."