After finishing one, Lieutenant Colonel Adam took another one for himself, and so did Malashenko, just like many conversations between gentlemen that took place in the mist.
"This is the first time I've smoked a general-level Soviet army cigarette. It tastes really good. At least it's much better than the stuff in my pocket."
If you want to talk about the tobacco of the Soviet and German armies, then Comrade Ma is no longer sleepy. It can even be said that he has become energetic instantly.
"It's not me who's talking about smoking. You Germans are really bad at it."
"Look at the bullshit tobacco you give to the soldiers. Smoking it is just like pulling a handful of weeds and soaking them in horse manure overnight to get a roll of paper. The Mahe tobacco we give to the soldiers only tastes more choking and strong.
Damn, those things of yours are simply destroying people’s will. I feel like vomiting after taking one puff, and I will never take another puff in my life.”
"This is the wrong thing. It's not that I look down on you Germans or anything. But as a smoker, I really can't stand the terrible taste of that stuff. I'm serious."
Not only did Malashenko mean what he said, but his facial expression also looked serious, and he didn't look like he was lying at all.
Seeing Malashenko's expression, Lieutenant Colonel Adam, holding a cigarette in his hand, just smiled helplessly.
"No way, I don't know why that thing is so difficult to smoke. Don't tell me it's you, I don't like that thing myself."
"Well, that's pretty much it. It seems that you and I have finally found some consensus."
Malashenko, who reached out to flick the cigarette ashes, inadvertently looked towards the bedside table before he finished speaking.
It doesn't matter if you don't look at it. When you look at it, you suddenly find something extraordinary. Malashenko even thought at first that he was seeing something wrong.
In the photo frame placed on the bedside table, there was at least one face that Malashenko found familiar.
Interested, Malashenko immediately reached out to hold the photo frame in front of him and took a closer look. In the photo, a man wearing the uniform of a German Air Force officer was taking a photo with a teenager. Not only did the two look similar, but they also smiled.
Almost carved from the same mold, it was the face of the young man in the photo that made Malashenko feel unusually familiar.
"This is Freeman?"
Malashenko's tone was a little uncertain. It seemed that the photo was not taken recently, but some time ago, at least two or three years ago. In addition, the black and white photos of these years are blurry, so it is difficult to see them at a glance.
It is still difficult to draw firm conclusions.
But it didn't matter, because Malashenko's uncertain question was quickly answered by Lieutenant Colonel Adam, who was sitting on the bed.
"Well, that was Freeman in college, taken before graduating from the University of Berlin. His father came back from the front to celebrate his graduation from college. If I remember correctly, it should have been two years ago."
"His father? You mean the man in the photo is his father?"
Although he did not answer directly, Malashenko found a definite answer in Adam's eyes.
Adam, who may have noticed that Malashenko was interested in this, but also knew more details, continued.
"The commander of the 17th Ground Attack Wing of the Luftwaffe, Colonel Stauffenholt."
"Hoot is a famous person on our street. He was also the first among his contemporaries living on this street to become a regimental captain and the first to be promoted to colonel."
"From 1941 to 1943, he had been commanding operations on the Eastern Front battlefield, and was promoted to the rank of regimental captain due to his meritorious service in combat command. At the end of 1943, he was forced to return to China to rest due to excessive losses. The battle in Kursk revitalized them.
Seriously injured. When they basically finished their rest in 1944 and received additional equipment, the Americans and British came again from the west."
"Hoot was sent to the Western Front to lead his boys to resist the Allied forces. But as he told me in his letter, everyone underestimated the American's air combat capabilities. Their fighter jets are powerful and powerful.
And there are more mosquitoes than mosquitoes. In the words of the Americans themselves, our fighter jets are driven out of the sky like Thanksgiving turkeys."
"Hoot's troops suffered heavy losses, but orders to attack continued one after another. The Allied forces were advancing very fiercely on the ground. If they wanted to hold on, they had to provide air support for the ground troops. He had no choice."
"At first he was seeing off the boys under his command at the airport, then he was seeing off the deputy commander for takeoff. When he finally took off, there was no one to see him off. But he still decided to go. He said it was
A kind of transmission, there is no reason to let this kind of transmission be ruined in his hands, this is not a reason to be afraid of war."
"."
Adam did not continue, Malashenko could already roughly guess the subsequent results.
"So, he was handed over to those allied forces?"
"Well, the Americans' latest fighter jet ambushed his Stuka. What's the name of that fighter jet? Let me think about it."
"Is it called "Mustang"?"
Malashenko suddenly interrupted, and Lieutenant Colonel Adam, who was thinking carefully, suddenly slapped his head.
"Yes, it's called this! P-51 "Mustang" fighter! It is said that this fighter is very powerful, much more powerful than those big and stupid P-47 "Thunder"! Many famous German Air Force pilots died here
Under attack from all kinds of fighter jets, Hott, he's just one of them."
"Well"
After hearing Adam's answer confirming his guess, Malashenko then lowered his head and glanced at the photo frame in his hand. It seemed that what happened after that was not so unpredictable.
"So, this guy Freeman joined the army to avenge his father?"
Malashenko felt that this was a matter of course, and it was obvious in front of him, so he didn't even have to think about it.
However, Malashenko was completely wrong this time.
"It's not what you think. There is actually another reason for this."
"How can I tell you? When I think about it, it should be said that Freeman has not had a good relationship with his father since he was a child. We old friends who have a good relationship with Holt all know this."
"Freeman's mother died in childbirth when giving birth to him. Holt was so focused on flying that he stayed in the army all day and rarely even returned home. Freeman grew up with his grandparents.
He has received neither mother's love nor father's love since he was a child, poor child."
"The good news is that Freeman is very obedient and very ambitious. Even without the education and guidance of his parents, he still relied on his own ability, without asking for help or relying on connections, and was admitted to the top Berlin University. I still remember Holt
The old boy was crazy with joy when he heard the news. He never drank alcohol, and he hasn't had a drink with us old guys since his wife died."
"What happened to the night when he found out that his son was admitted to the top university in Germany? The old boy took leave to come back to celebrate his son, got drunk with us old guys, talked all over the floor, and finally slept on the stairs.