Struggle in Soviet Russia

The advantage of the collapse of the front is that the retreating troops and disintegrated soldiers are everywhere. When they are moving behind the front, they may encounter some fleeing soldiers at any position and at any time.

Victor and Major Andrey led the 71st Infantry Brigade to Mozhaisk. Although it was in the jungle, after four or five consecutive days of marching, many people continued to be gathered along the way. And most of them came from the 19th and 24th Army. Finally, after the integration, the size of the team has grown to nearly 6,000 people.

However, the composition of the soldiers in the 6,000-strong team is also very complicated. Among them, there are both combat arms and civilian arms, and there are even more than a dozen actors from the Model Song and Dance Ensemble of the People's Committee of the Interior.

During the retreat march, Victor and Major Andre reorganized the entire team. All the combatants were reorganized into three regiments. To some extent, the brigade's full reorganization rate was in place.

On the edge of the Oster swamp belt, the "рс104" secret radar station.

The hum of the diesel generator was heard very clearly in the jungle late at night. In a small house built entirely of logs, Victor stood behind the correspondent, waiting for feedback from Moscow.

When he arrived at this secret radar station this afternoon, Victor was a little dumbfounded, because there should have been a radar station garrisoned by a platoon, but there were only 13 people left, also a commander plus 12 female soldiers.

After communicating with the commander, he learned that the original soldiers garrisoned here had been transferred away. The above always said that he would be supplemented with troops, but they never materialized. Therefore, there are only so many people here.

Fortunately, the operation of the radar station is still basically normal. No equipment malfunctions. The only problem is the intermittent contact with Moscow.

Throughout the afternoon, the correspondents were trying to get in touch with Moscow, but it was not until ten minutes ago that the communication was basically restored, but Victor had just reported the situation here, and the communication was disconnected again, and it has not been restored until now. .

"Precious honor and own possession belong to us, the Red Army soldiers are striding forward to the enemy..."

Amid the buzzing noise of the diesel generator, Victor, frowning, suddenly heard a faint song coming in from outside.

"From the British coast to Siberia, hey, the Red Army is the strongest in the world..."

This is a woman's voice, singing "The Red Army's Most Powerful", and it is the version just re-written by Peter Bai in August. This song is currently widely circulated in the Red Army and belongs to the repertoire of performances by literary and artistic groups.

I have to say that this song has a very special power. Listening to the sonorous and powerful singing of the female voice, Victor's frowning brows not only slowly unfolded, but he hesitated for a moment, and finally turned and walked out of the wooden house.

Outside the jungle, on the edge of the quiet marshland, and on the green grassy ground, countless bonfires are lit, and the same countless figures are the figures gathered around the bonfire, in the light of the fire. These figures looked sloppy and mottled.

At the edge of a bonfire dozens of meters away, a female soldier in military uniform with long braids was playing the guitar and singing. At this time, many people were already singing along with her, but her The voice was overwhelmed.

Seeing the warm atmosphere over there, Victor couldn't help but walked over, and then he saw Titov sitting on the ground by the bonfire. As a military commissar, he needs to do his utmost to arouse the morale of the soldiers in the absence of political commissars in the army. Needless to say, everything tonight should be arranged by him.

Seeing Victor coming, Titov smiled and handed a cup. Naturally, the glass in the cup would not be wine, but water.

Victor smiled, sat cross-legged beside him, reached out to take the cup, and took a sip to his mouth.

"Have you been in contact with Moscow?" Titov asked when he had a drink.

"Contacted," Victor returned the cup and said, "Our message has been sent, but the communication was interrupted before the instruction was sent there."

"That's also good news for us," Titov is not young anymore. He is an old Bolshevik. After his fifty-year old, he is more open to many things and more optimistic. "At least, now someone knows that we have not surrendered to the Germans."

Victor smiled and then asked, "How are the moods of the soldiers?"

Titov said: "It's not bad, at least now it's a lot better than the previous two days."

Victor wanted to say something more, but the girl standing by the bonfire had finished singing. She bowed and saluted the soldiers who had applauded all around, and then walked towards the crowd.

"How about, Comrade Victor, are you interested in performing a show for everyone?" Titov asked with a sudden smile.

"Me?" Victor laughed, "I can't..."

Before he could finish speaking, Titov had stood up, and he took a few steps forward, walked near the bonfire, and said loudly, "Comrades, now, I want everyone to announce good news."

In the originally noisy camp, it quieted down quickly, and countless eyes gathered on him. Everyone wanted to hear what the good news was.

"With the efforts of Major Viktor Viktorovich, we have now contacted Moscow. The Supreme Command, Comrade Stalin, has learned about our situation," Titov said excitedly.

"Oh!"

"Ula..."

There was a huge cheer from the crowd, and Titov's specious statement was indeed good news for everyone.

When everyone’s cheers died down, Titov smiled and continued: “As a celebration, should we invite Comrade Victor to give us a show?”

"Yes!"

"correct!"

Countless voices yelled noisily, and several female soldiers sitting nearby ran over and dragged Victor, who was shaking his head repeatedly, from the ground and pushed him to Titov's side.

In this way, Victor, who was driven off the shelf by the duck, became the focus of everyone. He stood beside Titov with a wry smile, thought for a while, and said, "Then I will sing a song to the comrades."

There was an applauding voice around, and the female soldier who sang at Shicai ran over and stuffed the old guitar into his hand. Fortunately, Victor really knew how to play it. Otherwise, she would have to embarrass in public.

"The name of this song is "The Dawn Here is Quiet"." Victor held the guitar, bent over and sat on a dead wood stake by the campfire. He looked around, and finally turned his gaze to a dark shadow hidden by the jungle night. , That is the radar guarded by the radar station, "Before singing this song, I want to tell the comrades a true story. It happened not long ago, and the location is Radar Station 89 on the Wuppi River."

There was a pause in his tone, and Victor organized a few words and said: "The guard commander of Radar Station 89 is Warrant Officer Waskov. He is not in a good mood today. The soldiers finally came, but..."

That's right, the story that Victor tells is the famous book "The Dawn Here is Quiet" by Boris Vasilyev. It is only told in his language, and the place and time inside have also changed.

A good story always touches people's hearts the most, not to mention that this story is about the war that is taking place in front of us. After summarizing in his own words, Victor did not spend too much time telling this story. Ten minutes later, when he told the five female soldiers sacrificed one by one, the dense crowd surrounded the surroundings. Inside, there was a clear weeping sound, and even the well-informed old Titov had tears flashing in his eyes.

The story ended when Warsaw Waskov captured all the Germans. Victor plucked the guitar strings and sang the song leisurely: At dawn, you passed by with the wound and the dew. Dust in the dust, exhausted. The sun is shining indifferently on your wound...

……………………………

It was late at night, on the edge of a pond floating with dead branches and leaves, Victor was leaning on a thick tree trunk, chewing a dandelion stalk, and thinking about his future plan of action.

Communication with Moscow has not yet resumed. According to the communicator, the main reason is that the facilities of the radar station are seriously aging. Coupled with the rainy weather, the signal reception is very bad. If you are lucky, when the weather is clear, the communication should be You can recover.

In this regard, Victor had no choice but to wait quietly according to what the communicator said.

Behind him came the sound of Xisuosu's footsteps, which interrupted Victor's thoughts. When he looked back, he saw Titov.

"Has the communication not recovered?" Titov asked as he walked to Victor's side, touching his pocket.

"No," Victor shook his head, then recounted what the correspondent had said.

"Perhaps it's not a bad thing," Titov took out a pack of crumpled cigarettes from his pocket, pulled out one and handed it to Victor, and said, "The last one, I haven't been willing to smoke it. I gave it to you."

Victor chuckled, and took the cigarette over honestly, put it sideways under his nose and sniffed vigorously.

"Trust me, once communication is restored, the only task we can receive is to fight." Titov said.

"Hehe, it's not like what the military commissar should say," Victor said.

"The military commissar is also a human being, except for lunatics in this world, who would like to fight?" Titov laughed.

His tone sank, and he replied again: "Is that story really true?"

"You can completely treat it as something that actually happened," Victor said vaguely.

"I want to sort it out," Titov said. "This is a very good story, very inspiring, and of course you will be the original author of the story."