Malashenko had this dream from the future for a long time. In the dream, he ate a table full of delicious food, and of course tasted some flavors that were not suitable for children.
"Huh? Damn it, it turned out to be a dream, bastard!"
Not noticing that there was something strange about some part of his body that he had just woken up from, Malashenko lifted up Commissar Petrov's coat that covered him and stood up straight.
"What time is it now? How long have I been asleep?"
Having put down the telegram in their hands, Commissar Petrov and Commissar Petrov were each holding a lunch box and filling their stomachs. Lavrinenko, who subconsciously followed the sound and turned around, was about to answer, but the hand holding the fork stopped in mid-air.
I noticed the same thing on a certain part of Malashenko's body.
"Comrade leader, should we close the tent?"
Seeing Lavrinenko's frozen expression and hearing the cold joke made by Commissar Petrov, Malashenko, who had just woken up and had not recovered from his sleep, immediately replied subconsciously.
"What tent? Do we have a tent?"
Seeing that Malashenko was still clueless and unaware, Commissar Petrov had nothing to say and could only use the spoon in his hand to point at a certain part of Malashenko, lowered his head and followed Petrov
The political commissar pointed in the direction and looked around at Malashenko, who immediately lost his sleepiness and looked embarrassed.
"Ahem...it's just a small problem, don't worry about the details, it will be fine soon."
Malashenko, who was too embarrassed to get down the steps, made some random remarks and tried to excuse him. However, the unlucky little brother just couldn't get down. Lavrinenko wanted to make fun of Malashenko.
Then he spoke again as if he was joking.
"Malashenko, didn't you do anything happy with Natalya when you went home during the winter vacation? How did you end up like this?"
Happy? I’m happy, you big-headed ghost! Happy!
Malashenko didn't expect Lavrinenko to be so talkative. Malashenko was a little annoyed. He immediately stepped forward and slapped Lavrinenko lightly on the back of the head. He never thought that Lavrinenko was so shameless.
On the contrary, Ke smiled even more happily.
"Comrade Political Commissar, you see, I mentioned Comrade Zhongtuanzhan's weakness. He must have been very happy during those days when he went back for vacation! He was mumbling the girl's name in his dream just now!"
Damn it, this gate is not finished yet!?
The fight with Lavrinenko quickly came to an end, and Commissar Petrov, who was also smiling, quickly returned to his normal state and began to act seriously.
"Okay, it's time to get down to business, Malashenko. Are you hungry? If so, ask someone to bring you some food, and we'll talk while we eat."
He rolled up his sleeves and glanced at the time on his watch, which read nine o'clock in the evening. Malashenko, who estimated that it was almost time for the Germans to fall asleep by now, breathed a sigh of relief.
"Well, I am indeed hungry. Let's eat and talk."
The Red Army cooks who were responsible for cooking for everyone had already gone to bed to rest, but the regiment leader was still hungry. This was a big deal. It would not be okay to just take some leftovers and cool things.
Under the personal order of Commissar Petrov, a lunch box of hot horsemeat soup and a piece of black bread were quickly brought to the table in front of Malashenko by the regiment soldiers.
Malashenko, who immediately moved his index finger after smelling the aroma, just picked up the spoon and was about to start it. Looking at the hot chunks of horse meat in the lunch box, he seemed to suddenly remember something, and then blurted out some unnatural words.
.
"Those cavalry comrades...are they okay?"
Although the description is a bit inappropriate, it sums up to what it means. Lavrinenko, who is sitting next to Malashenko, also understands what his old classmate is referring to.
"They... were okay. After I told them, they all understood, and no one stood up to express objections. It was just that everyone hugged the horse's head and cried, their eyes were red, and they were sad for a while. In addition, they didn't eat at night.
I went to bed before dinner."
"...."
The originally normal atmosphere in the room suddenly became a little strange. Looking at the hot horse meat in the lunch box in front of him, Malashenko suddenly felt that his appetite was greatly reduced. The new generation of prairie cavalry forced the older generation of prairie cavalry to kill their companions.
The more Malashenko thinks about this, the more uncomfortable he feels, as if he is a sinner.
Malashenko remained silent for a while with a straight face. After a minute, Malashenko spoke again in an unusually calm tone.
"Take it away and give the wounded and sick comrades an extra meal so that they can replenish their bodies. I can just eat some bread. I can't eat meat."
The person who gave the order to kill horses and eat them was Malashenko, and the person who couldn't eat horse meat was also Malashenko.
There are many ways to express the contradictory aspects of human nature, but in the cruel war, the contradiction reflected in Malashenko at this moment may be the most typical one.
Seeing that Malashenko was in a bad mood, Political Commissar Petrov did not do much to dissuade him. He reached out and called the orderly at the door. After giving a few instructions, he took down a lunch box full of still hot horse meat.
Seeing this, Malashenko looked at the back of the orderly as he stepped out of the threshold and spoke to himself again.
"Wait until dawn tomorrow to do the work of those cavalry comrades. Comrade political commissar, you are better at this than me."
Political Commissar Petrov, who has experienced countless battles from defending the motherland against the white bandits to the present, and has long been scarred by battles, can very well understand Malashenko's current state of mind.
"I know, I will handle this matter well, just leave it to me."
Sometimes, the person who gives the order is far more sad and painful than the person who executes the order.
Malashenko, who was chewing bread in his mouth, finally got down to business with Commissar Petrov and Lavrinenko. The three people around the table focused on the telegram and started talking.
"This is the telegram replied by the Front Army Headquarters, Malashenko. Oh, I have to tell you something first. Our troops are now under the new Stalingrad Front after reorganization, and the commander is still Marshal Timoshenko.
The telegram mentioned that a batch of supplies will be delivered to us tomorrow morning, mainly medicines and food."
"There is a shortage of oil. Currently, all the troops are reaching out to the front army headquarters to ask for oil. The oil reserves in Stalingrad have been dispatched and will be delivered to us tomorrow night at the latest. As for the new tanks and support vehicles
The team has not been replenished for the time being. The telegram said it will take a few days to arrive, but we have promised to give priority to our group."
After listening to Commissar Petrov's brief introduction, Malashenko no longer cared much about the availability of supplies. Only the title "Stalingrad Front" sounded extremely harsh and heartbreaking to Malashenko.