Steel Soviet Union

The first golden ray of sunrise slowly rose from the horizon at dawn. Malashenko, holding a Suomi submachine gun sling in one hand and a luggage backpack in the other, was already standing on the dock on the east bank of the Volga River.

The cruel yesterday filled with war smoke and bloody years has completely become a thing of the past, and a new page begins to officially set sail from now on.

The order Malashenko received was only to lead his team to the east bank of the Volga River to assemble and standby. As for what he was going to do after crossing the river and what actions he would take next, Malashenko had no idea and had not been informed by anyone.

In the early morning, the east bank of the Volga River was still a busy scene. Almost everyone within the sight of Marashenko was busy with the work at hand.

The workers on the dock were busy unloading the loaded trucks that had just arrived. The Red Army soldiers patrolling the dock were doing things as usual and seemed not to notice Malashenko's arrival. The craters left by the German air strikes here reminded Malashenko that this was a battlefield. Otherwise, the sight in front of him would be enough to give Malashenko the illusion that "the war is over."

The west bank of the river is a hell on earth burned by fire, but on the other side, the east bank is a different and almost completely out of sync scene.

Although this does not mean that the flames of war did not burn to the east bank of the Volga River, at least for Malashenko, who was still in the hell of Stalingrad yesterday, the scene in front of him was already called paradise.

"This place is a completely different world from Stalingrad. You must think so, right?"

Malashenko, who didn't particularly like to have his thoughts interrupted, was an exception this time. The words from Lavrinenko next to him made Malashenko give a look of approval and nodded slightly, thinking about what to do next. What to do, Malashenko quickly waited for the answer.

A major who looked like he was heading straight for Malashenko came to the two of them in less than ten seconds. After he was basically sure that the two in front of him were the ones he was waiting for, he immediately spoke.

"Commander Malashenko and Deputy Commander Lavrinenko, am I right?"

From the moment he ran over until now, he has always shown a smiling face. The major in front of him, who was slightly older than himself, probably just over thirty years old, gave Malashenko a very different feeling.

"It doesn't look like a guy wallowing in a pile of dead people, but more like a scholar from the General Staff Department who specializes in serving big bosses."

In his heart, he gave the smiling tiger-like major a preconceived definition. On the surface, Malashenko, who looked normal, responded with a smile in return.

"Congratulations, comrade, you have found the right person. The people you are looking for are the two of us."

After confirming the result, the major did not respond immediately. Instead, he turned his head and looked at the other soldiers who were disembarking from the ship one after another behind Malashenko. He nodded slightly and blurted out the next words quickly.

"General Zhukov has arrived and is waiting for you to come over. I came here with General Zhukov's order to pick you up."

"You can call me Rostov, Comrade Malashenko. Please assemble the troops as soon as possible. When you are ready, we will set off immediately."

Thinking about this guy, no wonder he felt different. It turned out that he was a scholar brought by Comrade Lao Zhu from Moscow.

While he strengthened his judgment a moment ago in his heart, Malashenko, who shook hands with the major who was still smiling in front of him, also smiled.

"Okay, Comrade Rostov, give me three minutes. We will set off immediately after three minutes."

The 1st Guards Heavy Tank Breakthrough Regiment, which left all the tanks and heavy equipment that was difficult to take away in Stalingrad and handed them over to friendly forces, now has almost nothing with it except some carry-on bags and necessary self-defense light weapons. All the extra cumbersome things and food reserves that should have been inconvenient to carry have been given away by Malashenko.

Apart from cigarettes and water bottles, the only things the soldiers could eat now were half-rare bread cubes and biscuits in their pockets.

Political Commissar Petrov, who was standing not far behind and heard the conversation just now, exchanged glances with Malashenko. They immediately understood what each other meant and immediately started to act.

Seeing Commissar Petrov's waving figure urging the soldiers to disembark quickly, Lavrinenko, who was still standing with the Malashenko brothers, could not help but slowly shook his head and spoke.

"Sometimes I really envy you. Being like you is my ultimate ideal."

Lavrinenko's heartfelt exclamation was somewhat inexplicable, and Malashenko, who was confused for a moment, immediately replied.

"What are these words? What do you mean?"

Compared with the question mark on Malashenko's face, Lavrinenko, who was serious and had no hint of joking or a playful smile, followed up and answered without any hesitation or thinking.

"If it were someone else, they would have just got off the ship and would still be asking for directions, or looking for someone to borrow a phone or radio to contact their superiors."

"Look at you again. As soon as you get off the ship, there is a special envoy sent by your superiors waiting for you. After a while, you will meet Comrade Stalin's fireman and the hero of the Soviet Union, General Zhukov. He will report the work in person and receive instructions directly. You must know that you are one of them "President of the school."

"How many people envy you as a role model, but you act like a normal person, as if these are ordinary things like eating and drinking."

"To be honest, even I envy you, I'm serious."

Is what Lavrinenko said true? certainly.

Is Malashenko really like a normal person, enjoying these privileges that others cannot envy, such as eating and drinking?

Uh, that seems to be the case.

As the saying goes, those who are obsessed with the authorities are clear to those who observe. As a direct beneficiary of various privileges, Malashenko often does not think of these, or he thinks of them at the time, does not take them seriously, and then simply forgets them.

With Lavrinenko's half-joking reminder, Malashenko, who thought about it carefully, suddenly felt that this was really the case.

"Okay, you're right. It's indeed quite enviable. If it were me, I would envy myself. It's true."

Lavrinenko, who talked about Malashenko's innermost feelings, showed a very immoral smile and patted his old classmate on the shoulder. It can be seen that our deputy leader comrade is in a pretty good mood now.

"I have a hunch, Malashenko, General Zhukov must have brought you some commendation, and maybe a medal. Why don't you guess what it is?"