Chapter 7 Trip to Division Headquarters

Although he was somewhat surprised by the request made by Lieutenant Colonel Petrov, after thinking about it carefully, he felt that he should not and was not qualified to refuse this proposal from the divisional political commissar. Lin Jie immediately responded with a smile. Lieutenant Colonel Petrov nodded slowly.

"I am extremely happy, it is my honor, Comrade Political Commissar!"

Following the footsteps of Lieutenant Colonel Petrov, he began to walk towards the headquarters of the Soviet 20th Tank Division in the same village.

Along the way, Lin Jie, who was still full of curiosity about this strange war-torn world, saw many Red Army soldiers sitting around in twos and threes eating and resting together.

The faces of these young soldiers who are about the same age as Lin Jie are not full of high morale and fearless determination as advertised in literary and artistic works. The trauma of war and the shadow of death seem to be written all over them. Every numb and lifeless face seemed to have its soul evaporated.

When the fearless courage that bursts out from deep in the heart gradually fades away with the residual warmth of the battlefield, all that is left in every soul is the longing for distant relatives and the fear of war and death.

After taking in all the various battlefield scenes along the way, I finally followed Lieutenant Colonel Petrov to the headquarters of the 20th Tank Division located in the center of the village. Several simple-looking wooden poles were erected in the field tent. Radio antennas were set up all around and strictly guarded by a group of energetic Red Army soldiers. A Soviet division-level field headquarters, which was the most common and common in the summer of 1941, appeared in front of Lin Jie.

It is different from the classic Red Army soldiers holding Bobosha 41 submachine guns in my impression.

In the summer of 1941, when the German army had just launched Operation Barbarossa, the Bobosha 41 submachine gun at that time was still a model that had just been imitated based on the prototype of the Finnish Somi submachine gun. Only dozens of them were trial-produced and used as testing weapons. It's just an experimental weapon with performance and improvement shortcomings.

So at this moment, the weapons in the hands of the Red Army soldiers who are responsible for the protection of the 20th Tank Division headquarters are only the Mosin-Nagant 1891/30 bolt-action rifles that are already very old.

In addition, the sharp-eyed Lin Jie even saw several burly Red Army soldiers standing guard with DP light machine guns in their hands, which looked like a very "furry bear" style posture.

Before Lin Jie, who was like a curious baby, could finish taking in all the scenery outside the division headquarters, Lieutenant Colonel Petrov on the side turned around and spoke to Lin Jie.

"Comrade Malashenko, I will go in and inform Division Commander Chernyaev. Please wait for me here."

After saying that, before Lin Jie, who was wandering around and had yet to recover, could respond, Lieutenant Colonel Petrov, who had always been accustomed to working efficiently and scrambling against every second, strode forward and raised his hand to open the division headquarters. The curtain of the field tent.

"Damn crispy lackeys! Tell me quickly! Where are the main troops and headquarters of your division? What is the next combat intention of your entire army group!?"

As the saying goes, you hear someone before you see him. Before Lieutenant Colonel Petrov, who had just opened the tent door, could see the division commander Colonel Chernyaev himself, the familiar but terrible Slavic man yelled and cursed. One step passed into his ears.

In a corner of the tent, Colonel Chernyaev, the acting commander of the 20th Tank Division, dressed in the uniform of a Soviet colonel, was shouting angrily at a German officer in front of him who had a bruised nose and face and was firmly trapped in his seat. .

The viscous liquid mixed with snot, tears and blood had already stained the iron-gray uniform of the German major. His whole body was covered with dirty stains and unknown bloodstains. The German major had been stained by Chernia. Yev and the two Soviet soldiers around him were beaten with fists and kicks, leaving the poor German major with a bruised nose and a swollen face, and two of his teeth were knocked out. He was still mumbling those words that he had repeated countless times. vague words.

"I have said many times, if I really know more intelligence and news, I will definitely tell you! Our division's main troops and division headquarters have been in the process of mobile transfer and advancement, and the radio contact has been cut off for several times. How could I possibly know where the division headquarters is now?"

Mumbling blood bubbles from his throat made his words particularly harsh and unpleasant. This German Wehrmacht major, who was injured in battle and captured and then tortured by the Soviet army, could hardly even speak. difficult.

"The mission of the Southern Group Army to which our division belongs is to continue to advance towards the hinterland of the Soviet Union. The primary mission goal in the first phase is to encircle and capture Kiev. These are what I heard from our division's combat meeting, no matter how much more This is something that I, a little major, cannot know. For the sake of my truthfulness, I beg you to stop and let me go!"

After hearing the "truthful confession" from the German major again, he finally put down the short wooden stick that he had been holding tightly in his hand. Colonel Chernyev, who had been busy shouting and beating for a long time, immediately reached out his hand. He pulled up a chair and sat down as if to catch his breath.

"Comrade division commander, going into battle to interrogate a prisoner of war in person like this is not the style that our senior commanders and fighters of the Red Army should have. You must know that the body is the capital of the revolution. If you are exhausted, who can we count on to lead our division to victory? Woolen cloth?"

Hearing the whispered words coming from behind him, he couldn't help but be slightly startled. Chernyaev, who suddenly turned his head following the sound, saw the familiar figure standing not far behind him. figure.

"Oh, Petrov, you idiot! How many times have I told you, before you come in, remember to shout to at least let me know you are coming, but you end up wandering around like a ghost every time!"

After hearing Chernyaev's words, he smiled faintly, and then Commissar Petrov, who strode forward with his legs wide open, looked very disapproving of this.

"The so-called ghosts, those little bourgeois fabrications, do not exist at all. Great communist fighters will not be superstitious about these fabricated products of idealist ideas. Tell me, my dear Comrade Nyayev, during the period of my departure What have you pried out of the mouth of this stubborn and spicy person in all that time?"

Chernyaev waved his hand helplessly at Lieutenant Colonel Petrov's question. Chernyayev, who had barely obtained any more information, looked very disappointed.

"It's still the same old thing! This crispy lackey can't spit out even a little bit of anything else except asking questions and saying that the main attack direction of the so-called southern cluster is Kiev!"