Steel Soviet Union

When the last ray of sunset on the distant horizon completely sank into the horizon along with the rising night, inside the field division headquarters of the 20th Tank Division of the Soviet Army, a drunken Chernyaev was still half-sitting on the ground Chatting endlessly to his old friend.

"Peter, back then we all thought that after we eliminated the white bandits and drove away the little bourgeoisie, our lives would get better day by day. We would no longer have to be exploited and exploited by the nobles and rich people, and the country would be better. Rich and powerful.”

"But what's the result? What's the result? The result is that quite a few of us survived the war against the white bandits and foreign invaders, but eventually fell under the gunpoint of our own people! Those white bandits racked their brains and didn't even think about it. Marshal Tukhachevsky, who could kill, ended up being nothing.”

While he was swaying, he kept muttering those words that were like magic spells. He held on to the corner of the table beside him and stood up straight. As the world was spinning, Chernyaev felt that the whole world was about to collapse. He could no longer tell the difference. Clear reality and memories.

"I finally understand, Peter. We have assembled five mechanized armies for this battle, five! But in the end, after only a short time of fighting, we didn't look good, and we were so embarrassed."

"No matter how defeated we are, some people will always say nonsense like the Germans are too powerful, they have planes and we don't have them, to fool fools. But you and I, we both know that this failure is because of those in the grassroots troops. The result of little bastards who did nothing.”

Spreading his five fingers and palms and waving towards Commissar Petrov while shaking his head, Chernyaev, who was full of alcohol, was finally able to pour out all these painful words that had been held in his heart for a long time today. out.

"This uncle is an official in the Ministry of Internal Affairs, that uncle is a military political commissar in some field, and the son of a bullshit mayor's secretary is even more lawless. Peter, you said you said that if Comrade Lenin could see this scene today, it would be Don’t you have to be so angry that you die again? Socialist Soviet, you are already in chaos.”

Roaring out words that had been held in his heart for a long time and that seemed to be improvised, Chernyaev, who had always shown his toughness as a senior commander of the Red Army, unexpectedly found himself under the combination of alcohol and inner depression. I couldn't control my emotions for a moment under the impact, and burst into tears under the gaze of political commissar Petrov.

"The White Army and the Black Baron are trying to rebuild the throne of the Tsar. But from the Taiga Forest to the British coast, the most powerful is the Red Army!"

Although Chernyaev was bursting with snot and tears, his expression on his mouth as if he was shouting loudly in mourning while shouting the song representing his faith was really funny in the eyes of outsiders. But in the eyes of Political Commissar Petrov, who also experienced those dark years, perhaps this is the true demeanor of Commander Chernyaev hidden deep in his heart.

After witnessing the extremely miserable and sincere appearance of his old comrade-in-arms, he couldn't help but sigh. He casually put the half-bottle of vodka in his hand on the table aside. Lieutenant Colonel Petrov then stepped forward and stretched out his hand to drink the already drunk Chernyaev, who had difficulty even walking on his own, forcibly helped him up.

"You are not in a good state right now. You are already talking nonsense, comrade division commander! It's better to rest first and then plan for tomorrow's battle."

With the support of Commissar Petrov, he walked all the way to the camp bed placed in the corner. Chernyaev, who was slurred and somewhat unconscious, was still muttering something that symbolized the past and lofty beliefs. song.

"I am very sober, and I did not talk nonsense at all. The Red Army soldiers held the bayonets tightly in their rough hands. We should all fight more and more bravely, and carry out the final battle."

"Okay, stop singing, comrade teacher! You need to rest now. Can't you start singing after you get up tomorrow morning?"

It is different from the division headquarters which has a chaotic atmosphere.

When Malashenko returned to his car alone, following the footsteps of the wind, the sharply lowering surface temperature after the sun set and the sudden cold wind that suddenly blew up on the grassland, including Ni The three crew members, including Koray, Kirill, and Seryosha, were sitting around a small fire with several other nearby crew members, chatting together.

"What makes you so happy? Is there anyone watching out front? You guys are just having a lively chat here."

After hearing the familiar tone that suddenly came from behind him, Kirill, who turned around first, was the first to see Malashenko's figure striding towards him.

"Sir, you are back. The second company is on guard duty in the first half of the night, and the third company is on guard duty in the second half of the night. We are discussing here that today's dinner is not to our liking."

After hearing Kirill's answer, Malashenko, who felt a little puzzled, then continued to ask additional questions.

"We only let the Second Company and the Third Company serve as sentries, but what about our First Company? Doesn't the First Company have to be on guard duty?"

Regarding Malashenko's question, Kirill, who felt a little lonely almost instantly after hearing this, then hesitated and gave an answer that was really not good news.

"After the war, our company has only three T34 tanks left, sir, and this includes our company headquarters command vehicle."

"After Comrade Commander learned the news, he looked for you but could not find you. I told him that you followed Commissar Petrov to the military headquarters. Comrade Leader asked me to tell you that we no longer need to stand guard tonight. Let us rest and prepare for tomorrow’s battle.”

After hearing the unexpected answer from Kirill, Malashenko fell into silence for a while. Instead of being happy, he felt a little depressed.

After all, Malashenko, who had been suffering in the smoke and flames of war for a whole day, hoped that his subordinates who could not even remember their names could survive intact rather than have a peaceful night without standing guard.

"Hey, that's it. This is how history should be. Even if I participate in it, I will only be a passing guest. My personal power is not strong enough to change the direction of history."

With a soft sigh in his heart, he found an empty spot next to the fire and prepared to sit on the ground. The other Red Army soldiers around him moved their buttocks to the side consciously, thus making a small space for Malashenko, who had the highest military rank. There is a place to sit.

Looking at the flashing red flames in front of him and feeling the cold grassland wind in his ears, Malashenko, full of worries, is about to have another sleepless night.