What are some good countermeasures? This problem stumped Malashenko.
Malashenko knew very well how hungry the entire city of Stalingrad, which had been surrounded and blockaded by the German army for a long time, was. To put it bluntly, the current level of hunger in Stalingrad was no better than that in Leningrad last year.
The scene I saw was much better.
Malashenko, who suffers from some mild stomach problems, has experienced firsthand the negative effects of long-term irregular eating and hungry and full meals on the body. He has forgotten how many days he has not seen him.
Malashenko, who has become a star, even feels that he may be just one step away from malnutrition.
But I am still a soldier after all. With such a young body and bones, at least there won't be any big problems in the short term.
But if Yegor's mother in front of her continues to be so malnourished, going blind may be considered the best outcome. She is lucky not to starve to death.
There are many pains that a ten-year-old child cannot bear, and losing his mother is one of the most soul-crushing ones.
Even though there were countless people in need of help throughout Stalingrad, Malashenko logically should not have to care about these bad things and couldn't handle them. But in his heart, Malashenko always had his own share of perseverance.
, but no matter what, I cannot sit idly by and ignore the fact that a ten-year-old child is about to lose his mother.
A fool has the perseverance of a fool, and a fool has the persistence of a fool. Malashenko, who didn't care whether he would be regarded as a fool or a fool, immediately gave Karachev an order.
"I'm going back to the dock. You and Anya are here to see if anyone else needs help. Try to prioritize the most critical cases for treatment. We don't have much time left."
Through recent contacts, Karachev had a relatively thorough understanding of Malashenko's personality, and he could probably guess what Malashenko was going to do back home, and he quietly nodded.
"I understand. Anya and I are waiting for you here, comrade leader."
Malashenko, who turned around and walked towards the entrance of the air-raid shelter, saw that many refugees were already surrounding him.
The refugees, who live huddled in small air-raid shelters with barely a square meter of space per person, are men and women, old and young.
But almost everyone looked at Malashenko with a pleading, numb, and hope-seeking look.
These women, children and children, who are in ragged clothes, have sallow complexions and have trouble even standing upright, hope to gain even a little bit from this man who is known as the hero of the Soviet Union, whether by word of mouth or through loudspeakers.
The hope that keeps life and life going on.
But perhaps Malashenko's brand-new uniform of a tank corps lieutenant colonel, which he had rarely worn, was too eye-catching. It was in sharp contrast with the dirty stains on the rags around him, which made these people feel uncomfortable in their hearts.
The refugees, who had a strong desire to survive but were also full of awe, did not dare to take the initiative to speak.
Malashenko, who stood motionless on the spot, almost became two completely separated people from the refugees in front of him. It was as if an invisible wall of air was blocking each other, making it impossible to speak.
It's like he didn't dare to take the initiative to take a step forward.
The first person to break the strange atmosphere was neither Malashenko nor the adults among the refugees, but a man whose clothes were in tatters like a few rags wrapped around his body. He looked older and taller than Ye
Gore is even younger, at best a little girl of five or six years old or even younger.
Malashenko, who had already stirred up huge waves in his heart, remained motionless on the spot, watching quietly as the little girl, who seemed to be a little sloppy when walking, slowly walked towards him with her little feet. The little girl's red eyes
The little cloth shoes were so tattered that one could clearly see the gray little toes.
The little girl with two small hands clasped tightly came to Malashenko and slowly stretched out her arms. Malashenko, who could feel his eyes spinning in his pupils, was waiting quietly.
Finally, the moment came when the little girl gently opened her two clenched fists.
The two candies held in the little girl's hands, one on the left and the other on the right, were actually two candies that even the wrapping paper had worn out!
"Mom and Uncle Boris said you are a hero who defends the motherland. Captain Malashenko, this is the candy I left for you. Thank you for protecting us."
.......
All the words that can be thought of can no longer describe Malashenko's state of mind at this moment. Even the Chinese culture, which is far more extensive and profound than Russian writing, Russian culture and art, can't find a single word in the vast thesaurus that can be extremely precise.
To describe Malashenko’s true state of mind right now.
Malashenko, who bit his lips tightly and felt something spinning in his eyes, immediately squatted down on his tower-like body of over 1.9 meters, reached out and gently took one of the balls from the little girl's right hand.
Sugar, and then he gently closed the little girl's stretched out left hand with two big hands, forced down the choking in his throat, and slowly opened his mouth.
"Uncle will only take this one, you must keep the other candy for yourself!"
“When there are no explosions and gunshots in this great city, when all the Nazi invaders are crushed by the heroic Red Army soldiers, when you and your family can safely walk out of this air-raid shelter and breathe the fresh air outside,
When watching the Red Army uncles on the street walking by with their heads held high."
"Eat this candy, and Uncle Malashenko will share this joy with you from afar. This is our agreement, right?"
The adult world and many words are beyond the understanding of a young child. The only thing the little girl could do was to nod vigorously as Malashenko's big hand gently rubbed her little head.
Feeling that the smile he forced to show might be uglier than crying, Malashenko instantly put away his mood, immediately stood up and walked through the crowd of refugees in front of him, not caring that the stained rags would be stained.
Wearing his brand-new uniform, he strode towards the entrance of the air-raid shelter which was already very close to him.
Perhaps because it was late at night and the sky was too dark, Lavrinenko, who saw Malashenko again, did not notice the strange look on his old classmate's face, but when he was about to go up to ask for details, he was stopped by Malashenko again.
Shenke's sudden words interrupted his speech on the spot.
"How much food is left in our group? Count everything that can be eaten."
Lavrinenko was a little puzzled, and he still didn't even notice the strangeness on Malashenko's face.
"It's quite a lot, enough to feed the rest of us for more than a month. Recently, Karamov has been taking care of the logistics. Why do you suddenly ask this? What happened?"