Malokov, who had been driving into the city for a while, suddenly remembered that he seemed to have not had time to ask Malashenko where he wanted to go. He was so busy chatting with Malashenko that he almost forgot about the business.
.
"Ah, by the way! Comrade Malashenko, do you want to go home directly next? Isn't that right?"
Malokov didn't know whether his guess was accurate, so he could only tentatively ask Malashenko, and the answer he got immediately after was Malashenko's quiet nod.
"Well, it seems that my worries were unnecessary. I thought I was wrong and thought you might want to go somewhere else as your first stop."
Malokov, who was holding the steering wheel with one hand and waving the other hand slightly, was half-joking, but Malashenko's eyes noticed Malokov's military rank logo.
"Comrade Malokov, you were promoted? Are you now a lieutenant colonel?"
Malokov, who was thinking about his next sentence, was suddenly interrupted by Malashenko, and then he noticed that Malashenko's eyes had been fixed on his military rank.
"Oh, you're talking about this. Yes, because of his good performance and Comrade Petrov's recommendation, I took over his duties shortly after he left the Ministry of Internal Affairs and went to the front line, and my military rank also moved up.
Lieutenant Colonel."
"The Special Operations Group was disbanded. Not long after the Battle of Moscow, Comrade Stalin made the judgment that the traitors and hidden spies working for the Germans in Moscow had been almost eliminated, and there was no need for the Special Operations Group.
Specialized in arresting traitors and conducting secret missions."
"So just a few days after I took office, I, the team leader, changed departments and became a sinecure sitting in an office all day. To be honest, I feel that I am at least ten pounds heavier now than when we last met.
Sitting there, there are endless documents to correct, endless reports to read, oh, and endless meetings to host, it almost drives me crazy!"
"Sometimes I really envy you, Comrade Malashenko. At least you don't have to sit in an office like me that makes people sleepy. Defending the country and killing the enemy is what passionate men should do.
matter."
It can be seen that Malokov's words are indeed sincere, but this is not the case for Malashenko.
On the contrary, Malashenko even envied the old boy Malokov.
I was posted as a lieutenant colonel in charge of the most mysterious and unfathomable department in the entire Soviet Union. I sat in the office every day, drank tea, approved documents, and held meetings. The day ended in a half-hearted way.
It would be great if you could do such a job yourself!
I go to work on time in the morning, get off work on time in the afternoon, and have sex with my beautiful wife when I get home at night.
Hey, how can people be so blessed and unaware of their blessings?
Malashenko, who shook his head, thought helplessly.
"It's not as good as you think on the front line, Comrade Malokov. Those Germans were even crazier last year than they were in 1941. We encountered the most elite field army of the Germans in Stalingrad. This is
A unit of fanatics that the Nazi capital personally praised and commended was really difficult to deal with and cost us very heavy casualties."
The small GAZ Jeep parked in a queue at the intersection will still be able to move forward for a while.
Pedestrians passing by outside the window saw the small red flag planted on the front hood of the car, and they all looked at the two men in the car window with respect and gratitude. There were even children holding hands with their mothers standing on the roadside and looking at them.
The car salutes.
Malashenko, who was still chatting with Malokov, became interested when he saw this scene. Then he reached out and rolled down the window on his side to get a clearer view. He sat in his passenger seat and looked towards the car.
The little girl who saluted him raised her hand and gave a solemn return with a smile.
"Mom, it's the uncle in the newspaper, he looks exactly the same!"
Sitting in the car, Malashenko was so bored that he had already taken off his military hat and put it in his arms.
It was such an inadvertent little detail like picking it off, which made the little girl who was very surprised to recognize Malashenko's appearance in the photo taken when he was interviewed by Pravda, and the memory came back.
The mother of the child said something after hugging the little girl. As the car continued to move forward, Malashenko, who was already drifting away, could not hear clearly. Instead, Malokov responded with a smile.
.
"In Moscow, if you ask a few passers-by on the street, at least seven out of ten people will know Malashenko's name, and they can also tell two related stories."
"You are now a hero in people's hearts, Comrade Malashenko. People in the streets are saying that wherever the tank hero Comrade Malashenko fights, there will be victory, just like General Zhukov
He will always lead the Red Army to victory."
"Is that really what you said?"
Malashenko, who looked surprised, couldn't believe it. He was rumored to be so awesome in Moscow?
"Of course, if you don't believe it, I will get out of the car right now and ask some passers-by. You can just sit in the car and watch quietly to see if what I say is true."
After hearing this, he shook his head with a wry smile. To put it bluntly, fame is a double-edged sword. While it is promoted and praised by one's own side, it will also be remembered by the enemy with gnashing teeth. He clearly knows that he is now being regarded by the Germans.
Malashenko, who was included in the "blacklist", always felt that this was not a good thing to be happy about.
After all, if you are not afraid of thieves stealing, then you are afraid of thieves missing you, right?
Although the things they said were not the same thing, the reasoning was still the same. Malashenko didn't know how much those Germans hated him.
"Okay, Comrade Malashenko, let's do this for now. If you are free, I will come see you tomorrow. Then we can drink and chat. I have prepared the vodka! Now you should go home to be with you.
Fiancée."
If it hadn't been for Malokov's reminder, his mind flew back to the brutal street battle with artillery fire flying everywhere, blood and minced meat being supplied in unlimited quantities, and it might have been a while before he could return to reality.
Watching Malokov drive away and disappear from his sight, Malashenko, who was holding a duffel bag in his hand, straightened out the wrinkles on his clothes for a moment, then turned around and rushed into the corridor of the apartment building.
Run upward.
Malashenko could not wait to see Natalia, whom he had not seen for a long time. This girl who had been missing him in her hometown was the one whom Malashenko cared about most and couldn't worry about.
However, when Malashenko quietly opened the door and entered, he walked around the house several times, but did not find his beautiful wife in any of the rooms. Only the dinner plate was stained with dishwashing stains.
The water scene proves that this house is indeed inhabited on a daily basis.
Malashenko casually dropped the duffel bag on the chair and lay down on the bed without even taking off his boots.
With his legs crossed and resting on the edge of the bed, Malashenko put his hands behind his head as a pillow, thinking about what his beautiful wife was doing and why she was nowhere to be seen.
I don't know how long it took, but as Malashenko was thinking about it, a thunderous snore gradually sounded in the room.
It wasn't until the mistress of the house came back that she reached out to open the door and was obviously startled by the thunderous snoring coming from behind the door. She might have thought that a stupid thief had entered the house.
And when the girl in a beautiful military uniform gently pushed the ajar door open a crack and quietly cast a cautious gaze into the room, her slightly dull face soon transformed into a desert-like expression.