Chapter 1474 “Leadership Privileges”

Varosha nodded after understanding the meaning of Comrade Political Commissar's words, and left after saying goodbye to Comrade Political Commissar and Malashenko. Seeing that no one around him could hear Commissar Petrov, he lowered his voice and leaned against the tank to whisper questions to Malashenko.

"This matter is not simple, Malashenko, where did you get so much useful information?"

Malashenko, who knew that Comrade Political Commissar would definitely ask this question, took his time and took out a cigarette case from his pocket, lit one for himself, and then spoke slowly.

"Actually, it's nothing. Didn't I interrogate several senior German prisoners of war alone before? You were not present at the time. They told me casually, and I was more curious, so I followed up and asked. At that time, I just thought It was a joke, but now that I have actually encountered it, I realize that it is true! Ha, who would have thought of it? But the fact is right in front of us, and there is no room for doubt.”

With the help of the previous prisoners of war who were interrogated individually, Malashenko was able to find a suitable excuse for himself and avoid further questioning by his political commissar comrades.

Following Malashenko's words, Comrade Political Commissar, who thought that this was the case, no longer had any doubts. When he turned around and realized that there was nothing important at the moment, he immediately rushed to Malashenko said.

"Okay, everything that needs to be dealt with and the problems that need to be clarified have been settled. Didn't you just say that you were very hungry? Let's go and have a look at Kulbalov's place. The meal is probably ready."

As soon as he heard this, he remembered that his stomach was still growling with hunger. How could he hold it back? He immediately threw the remaining half of the cigarette butt in his hand and jumped from a half-crouching position. Stand up straight and feel confident.

"Damn it, I would have forgotten if you didn't tell me! I'm really starving to death. I just ate dry bread in the car at noon and drank a few sips of water. I quickly went to get something to fill my stomach!"

Stalin's 1st Guards Tank Division was like this when it was either at war or on the way to war. Once the war started, it often didn't even have time to bury the pot and make rice. In addition, there are already a lot of ingredients and material supplies. There is almost no problem eating meat every day. Other troops are greedy for fresh meat. In Stalin's 1st Guards Tank Division, there is no time to cook it and it goes rancid. .

After learning about this, Malashenko did not dare to neglect, and quickly discussed with the political commissar to suppress the matter.

Other troops eat meat as if they were celebrating the New Year, but here you are better off, because the meat has gone rancid! If this spreads out, Malashenko is afraid that someone will poke his spine and greet his ancestors for more than eighteen generations. Even if our brother has a reason and has a backer, after all, it is better to do less than to do more, right?

The rancid meat was no longer edible, so they simply fed it to the dogs. Karamov, who happened to be in charge of logistics, had a lot of patrol dogs that he used to patrol at night and scare prisoners of war.

Oh, by the way, speaking of prisoners of war.

The somewhat wicked Malashenko also ordered the rancid meat to be boiled in a pot and used it as a snack for the defeated and captured Germans.

Although the rancid meat does not taste very good and has a bad texture, the Germans in the Cherkasy encirclement have long been cut off from their logistical supplies, and the minimum daily bread slices are like chewing wax. Feeling like vomiting.

So this rancid meat that was originally meant for dogs was served to the Germans. The German prisoners of war actually ate it with great enthusiasm and devoured it. What's even more outrageous is that these Germans didn't have diarrhea after eating. Who knows whether their stomachs are made of iron or copper. Anyway, it amazed Malashenko who came to inspect.

"Comrade Commander, you don't know, these fascist lackeys and prisoners are almost grateful to our Red Army! Those spoiled sour meats made these German guys' mouths full of oil, and some even ate three of them in one meal Kilograms of stinky cooked meat! He cleaned up all the spoiled stew ingredients, and even thanked us with tears, saying how good the Red Army was! This is much better than throwing it away. "

Regarding Karamov's heartfelt lamentation for being in charge of the custody of prisoners of war, Malashenko could only shake his head with a wry smile and said to himself, "I didn't expect that either."

As Comrade Political Commissar said, today’s dinner is fragrant beef stew with potatoes and fresh soft bread. This is also the best reward for the soldiers after a day of fierce fighting.

When Malashenko went to get food with his political commissar comrades, the soldiers had already formed a long queue.

Looking at the endless queue in front of him, Malashenko, who was almost dying of hunger, frowned a little.

"Join the queue? Let the comrade, the division commander, prepare the meal first?"

Comrade Political Commissar suddenly suggested from the side, and Malashenko, who was holding his lunch box in his hand, seemed a little embarrassed.

"This is so bad. Our division does not appreciate leadership privileges. Commanders and soldiers cannot do this in front of soldiers. Didn't we agree before?"

Gulu——Gulu——

Before Malashenko finished speaking, his unsatisfactory stomach rang again at the right time, which really made our comrade the teacher quite embarrassed.

"You, just keep talking tough! I think you are so hungry that you can hardly hold it anymore."

"Okay, don't set an example in front of me. You have the final say on war matters, and I have the final say on life matters. We have a clear division of labor. This time I make the decision, and I will prepare meals for my comrades first!"

As a result, Malashenko, who was more honest than his mouth, did not have any objection to Comrade Political Commissar's proposal, and honestly followed Comrade Political Commissar to the front to join the queue for a rare opportunity. He filled his extra-large lunch box, which was about the same size as his helmet, with a large bowl of potato stew, beef stew and broth, and took three whole brick-sized pieces of fresh bread before leaving.

The tent at the division headquarters has been set up, and Malashenko, who can finally sit at the table with an ammunition box under his buttocks and enjoy his meal peacefully, is devouring his food, while the political commissar comrade next to him is taking a bite. Chewing the bread and a mouthful of beef and potatoes slowly, while seeming to be thinking about something.

"You said, we eat so well on the front line, but the people in the rear cannot eat such delicious food. Is this a good thing or a bad thing?"

Upon hearing this, Malashenko couldn't help but be stunned for a moment. His right hand, which was holding a spoon and scooping out a piece of beef, stopped at the lunch box. After thinking for a moment, Malashenko replied with some feeling.

"If you ask me, it's better to be tight on the front line. The country's gate has been kicked down by the invaders. Thousands or even tens of thousands of soldiers died in the battles on the front line every day. The invaders have not yet completely driven out of the motherland. This way Under such circumstances, if the rear is tight and the front is tight, then there is no chance of winning if this war continues. The soldiers who defend the motherland are equivalent to being betrayed. Only those stupid capitalists can do this to give birth to a son without an asshole. come out."