The actual process of visiting the wounded was not that complicated.
Because of the special front-line and rear-line hierarchical diagnosis and treatment system of the leadership division, most of the moderately and mildly injured people who were in better condition were not in the field hospital in the city at this moment, but were recuperating in the rear-line hospital in the town outside the city.
So what Malashenko could actually visit in the frontline field hospital in the city, to put it bluntly, most of them were missing arms or legs and could not move, or their heads were covered with bandages and their bodies were wrapped with circles of gauze.
The seriously wounded.
Seriously injured patients are unable to interact too much. Talking too much will only affect the recovery of their injuries. Malashenko only greeted and cared about each one one by one and quickly left the ward.
In the leader's own world, Malashenko, who is almost the protagonist wherever he goes, also knows that he is not suitable to stay in the ward for too long. When the soldiers are excited, they will inevitably say a few words to him. This chat box
If it were really opened, it would be the end of the world.
Gil, who had been following Malashenko, did his duty and took all the photos he thought should be taken and all the moments that should be recorded. The conversation between the injured soldiers and Malashenko was also used as a
I recorded a lot in the form of notes, and it was not finished until I walked out of the ward with Malashenko.
"Are we, uh, going anywhere else now?"
Gil, who has been busy with Malashenko all the way, seems to be still a little unfinished. At this moment, he is still full of curiosity about everything in the field hospital, raising his head and looking around from time to time.
Malashenko, who saw that Jill's situation was probably going to be like this for a while, didn't pursue any changes.
Nowadays, Malashenko has an almost Buddhist attitude towards the little girl Jill. As long as she is not bad enough, just love her as she pleases. Since he got together with this little girl, all kinds of things have happened.
Such accidents always happen one after another. Malashenko even feels a little exhausted now. He is almost more tired than fighting.
"The trip ends here, I have to rush back to handle military affairs."
"Do you want to meet two doctors and nurses for an interview, or do you want to hitchhike back with me? You decide for yourself."
Seeing Malashenko say this with an indifferent attitude, Gil, who was curious but had not thought about staying longer in the field hospital, replied almost without thinking.
"I'd better go back with you, here. I don't know anyone else, no one is familiar to me."
I really didn't expect that this little girl would give "fear of life" as a reason in the movie.
According to Malashenko's understanding, how can a reporter be afraid of life? Can a person who is afraid of life be able to do this? Are you kidding me?
Although he did feel a little confused, Malashenko didn't think about it any further. There was no need to argue with this little girl over such a trivial matter. The reason came out, and the words came out without thinking.
"Come on then, get in the car, it's time to go."
The small convoy escorting Malashenko slowly advanced on the outer streets of Berlin, which had been riddled with holes and devastated by the war. Looking out the car window with the naked eye, you could see all kinds of things everywhere.
Ruins and dilapidated buildings with huge holes in them.
There are Red Army soldiers standing guard at regular intervals on the street to maintain order. From time to time, you can see patrols in squads, fully armed walking on the sidewalk, alert to the surroundings.
At least in the actual control area that has been captured by the leading division, Malashenko is the highest military and political officer who decides everything in this area. Regardless of whether you eat, sleep, or shoot guns and artillery, strictly speaking, Malashenko can make all decisions.
The final say.
This is a military-controlled area where everything is strictly enforced in accordance with wartime regulations. The smoke of artillery fire and the smell of blood fill the air, silently proving the unsuitability for survival and the devastation of life here at all times.
However, even in such an environment, people who come out to seek life and struggle between death and hope are still moving with difficulty.
The streets are sparsely populated but by no means empty. In addition to the Red Army soldiers maintaining order and patrolling, it is not uncommon for some people with yellow faces and thin skin and shabby clothes to look like local war refugees.
Some of them were rummaging around in the ruins that could be seen everywhere, carrying coarse cloth bags that were as worn as the clothes they were wearing, maybe even more shabby. They were trying their best to find anything useful for survival from the ruins.
Take things back and use them for your own use, just to survive.
Gill noticed that some people were lining up in a long queue. Under the supervision of the Red Army soldiers on the street, they were orderly receiving orders from the military trucks belonging to the leadership division from the quartermaster responsible for distribution.
Considered a moderate amount of daily necessities.
Jill's eyesight is pretty good. At least when he's with Mary, a woman who smokes, drinks, and loves to play with guns, his marksmanship is indeed pretty good based on a beginner's level evaluation. In addition to his high level of understanding, his best friend Mary
In addition to being a good teacher, it is also related to her excellent eyesight with her big, smart eyes.
As the car continued to move forward, Jill looked surprised when she finally saw clearly what the German refugees were receiving. She had read many reports on the Western Front written by Mary before, and thought she was fairly well-informed, but Jill
But I have never heard of the US military on the Western Front distributing canned meat to German refugees in an organized manner on such a large scale.
"Oh my god. Are those canned meats? Is this allowed to be distributed? Look at it."
"Um?"
Malashenko, who was sitting not far from Gil and in the back seat of the car near the other door, was already drowsy. When Gil suddenly shouted, a clever man immediately helped him to block the light.
He raised the brim of his hat to regain his vision. He looked out the car window and saw a scene that somewhat surprised Gil.
"Oh, those are my orders."
Malashenko, who didn't care much about giving Jill second-hand smoke, felt that he was still a little sleepy and a little sleepy. Then, in order to refresh himself, he took out the cigarette case and lighter from his pocket, and took out a
He stuffed the root into his mouth and put it on fire. When his mouth was full of smoke, he continued to speak.
"Yesterday when I was cleaning the battlefield, I came across two German supply warehouses, one big and one small. They seem to be military supplies reserved for the Nazis' long-term operations in this area, but those damn ghosts can't use them now."
"My soldiers are unlikely to appreciate the junk food of the Germans. In every sense, it is not as good as our leader's own three meals a day. I thought it would be a pity to throw it away. It is not good to eat.
Eat, but don't waste food. It just so happens that the German civilians in the city have been robbed of everything by the Nazis they support. All they have left is their underpants, which have not been confiscated. They are about to be unable to survive."
"Anyway, the Germans made it themselves. In the end, it was not put into the mouths of the Nazis. If these unlucky guys eat it, it can be regarded as a good use of the things in a sense. I am not the kind of person who takes the land wherever I go.
It’s no big deal if you give away locusts that scrape three feet down, just treat them as garbage.”