Soviet Union 1991
Text Chapter 102 Katyusha and the Birch Forest (1)
(First update)
The report of Yandabiyev being shot in Moscow was like a lit fuse that set off Chechnya, which was full of gunpowder barrels. Moscow showed its determination with the toughest attitude. If you dare to execute the Soviet General Secretary of the Chechen Autonomous Region, then I will directly shoot the person sent by your rebels to negotiate. Even the normal legal procedures were not followed. It was entirely Yanaev's personal will.
Not only were the Chechen rebels furious, but even their old rival President Bush looked at them sideways, and privately expressed some envy that only the leaders of the Soviet Union had such straightforward courage.
The Western world, which was eager to watch the excitement, continued to promote the Chechen leader and compared Yandabiyev's death to the sacrifice of a great liberal fighter. This time, the Soviet side did not let him talk nonsense and immediately launched a public opinion counterattack.
Just one day after the news of Yandabiyev's death was released, the Chechen rebels began to attack the few military bases in the country. Dudayev instigated the Grozny garrison, and the Chechen soldiers in several large cities also responded to the call. Together with those young people who were bewitched and wanted to fight for Chechnya, they quickly formed an armed force of more than 10,000 people.
With Dudayev's slogan "For Chechnya", the massive Chechen War began.
The Soviet garrison troops, who were almost unprepared, faced a group of fanatical religious elements, but no one was afraid, and no one retreated. Everyone silently installed bayonets on their AKM rifles and waited for the enemy to attack. The orders issued by the highest level in Moscow were passed down layer by layer, and to the ears of every soldier, everyone must stay in the barracks and wait for the arrival of reinforcements. The Soviets are with you.
Varennikov had discussed the offensive route with Yanaev before. Yanaev said that the personnel of the Soviet military base in Chechnya could not be evacuated. They had to stay in place and wait for the attacking forces to join. Those places were easy to defend and difficult to attack. Once they were lost, it would be much more difficult to retake them.
On the second day after the Chechen militants launched the attack, the Soviet army, which had been waiting for a long time at the border, began to march towards Chechnya. Without the blow of disintegration, they were still the most elite troops of the republic. The Soviet army, which had not yet stepped out of the shadow of Afghanistan, urgently needed a beautiful victory to wash away the previous shame.
The pungent smell of gunpowder and the smell of blood filled the cold air. The Soviet soldiers in beige coats seemed to feel the stinging pain of frozen lungs every time they breathed. They had just repelled a wave of tentative attacks by Chechen militants. The other side left four or five bodies and evacuated in a hurry. The white snow was blown up by grenades, revealing the scorched black land, which was like a conical funnel, presenting pits and potholes in front of the position.
The old political commissar, Comrade Valentin, led a group of new soldiers to garrison on the southwest defense line of the position. These young men from Uzbekistan and Tajikistan were good soldiers taught by Comrade Valentin a few months ago. The iron discipline made them fearless even when facing enemies that were several times their number. Except for one soldier whose arm was scratched by shrapnel in the enemy's attack just now, no one else was injured.
"Comrade Valentin, the enemy has begun to retreat. We are holding the position. Please report the casualties of your team?" The loud voice shouted to Valentin in the communication equipment.
"No casualties." The old political commissar replied proudly.
"Okay, keep alert. Those Chechens will not give up like this. The Soviets are with us." The communicator said.
"Yes, with us." The old political commissar's reply was a little lost. After the enemy cut off the external communication, the soldiers in the base were like a lonely boat floating in the ocean. Even he didn't know whether the great motherland had forgotten them.
After the call ended, Valentin, who was strong and smiling, turned around and said to the panting young soldiers, "Well done, young men. I believe these damn Chechens will not dare to attack rashly during the day today." The old political commissar patted the young soldier's shoulder with his gun to encourage him.
One of the soldiers replaced the magazine without bullets and reloaded a new one. He turned around and asked Comrade Valentin, "Political commissar, how do you know they won't attack again?"
The political commissar silently looked at the direction where those people left, which reminded him of his teammates in the plateau valley in Afghanistan. He slowly said, "They are not afraid of death, but it doesn't mean that these people are stupid. They have roughly figured out our defense line and are expected to plan a sneak attack tonight. You all keep your eyes open tonight and don't fall asleep."
After saying this, the old political commissar lit a cigarette and squatted in the foxhole silently to smoke, trying to keep his head down to prevent the sniper from discovering the red dot of the cigarette butt. In fact, he is not old, but the years of hard environment and war have made him look more like a vicissitudes of life.
"Comrade Political Commissar, why don't you leave?" A new soldier asked jokingly, "I heard that some military base leaders evacuated early, leaving their soldiers to flee alone. You are so old, I thought you would run for your life first."
"Hush, you kids, talk softly." The political commissar quickly put out the cigarette butt and threw it on the ground, then said to these young soldiers who had no taboos, "You don't understand, being a member is not for asking, but for being ready to contribute and sacrifice for the motherland at any time."
"Cheer up, the reinforcements will arrive tomorrow morning, and we can still have a hearty breakfast of potatoes and beef at the rear." The political commissar told these soldiers a white lie.
Although the political commissar spoke of painful topics in a relaxed tone, the atmosphere that had eased from the war suddenly became solid again. Everyone was silent. Although the old political commissar said that reinforcements would arrive here tomorrow morning, no one knew what changes would happen in the next fourteen hours.
The political commissar patted the heads of these young men and scolded them with a smile, "Don't cry and look sad, everything is fine. Come on, sing a song to ease your nervousness. Then you won't be nervous when we fight Chechnya in the evening."
"Wait a minute, I have a harmonica to accompany you." The young soldier wearing a steel helmet took out a harmonica from his arms and displayed it for everyone to appreciate like a treasure. He said proudly, "This is my girlfriend Nata The harmonica given by Sha, I was supposed to go back and get married to him after my service this year.”
"Haha, then I really congratulate you, Comrade Ivanov." The old political commissar hooked his neck and said jokingly, "Then you can play "Katyusha" for everyone, you agree."
"Okay, since Comrade Political Commissar has said so, let me sing one."
The handsome boy named Ivanov nodded. He carefully wiped the harmonica with his sleeve to avoid it being stained. Then he gently touched the harmonica to his lips and played the Soviet Union's well-known Patriotic War song. "Katyusha".
"While pear blossoms are blooming all over the world, soft gauze floats on the river; Katyusha stands on the steep bank, singing like the bright spring light."
The melody of the harmonica was more melodious than the accordion, and the tune played by Ivanov silenced everyone. It seemed as if the surroundings were a bloody battlefield just a moment ago, and turned into a sunny golden field the next moment.
"The girl sings beautiful songs, she is singing about the eagle of the grassland; she is singing about her beloved, and she also hides her lover's letters. Ah, this singing girl's singing, follow the bright sun and fly away."
The soldiers held their guns in their hands and gently followed the beat, as if the bloodshed just now was just a false alarm. After a day of training, they were just sitting in front of the stove in the military camp, holding a cup of coffee and laughing and chatting. . Valentin silently took off his helmet, which contained a photo of him and his wife. It was still summer that year, and she smiled sweetly.
Although his wife passed away due to cancer last year, for Valentin, she was just waiting for him in a far away place.
Just like the girl named Katyusha in the song, waiting for her lover to come back from the battlefield.
"The soldiers who go to the distant frontier convey Katyusha's greetings; the young soldiers stationed at the border miss the distant girl in their hearts; they fight bravely to defend the motherland, and Katyusha's love will always belong to him."
After Ivanov finished playing the last melody, there was no sound around him. The music soothed the tension and the soldier became calm. Ivanov stuffed the harmonica back into his coat, holding his rifle and looking up into the distance.
"Dear Natasha, when this is all over, I will go home."
Ivanov smiled happily, as if his beloved girl was right in front of him.
...
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