Chapter 710 Being bored

Malashenko did not want to give too precise a time, but only gave a rough time point to reply to political commissar Petrov.

After listening to Malashenko's answer, he also felt that his question seemed a bit abrupt, so he simply didn't take Malashenko's answer seriously and just thought it was a casual chat to relieve his boredom.

The heavy rain that started falling last night showed no signs of stopping.

Malashenko, who was wandering around the headquarters, originally wanted to take this rare opportunity to take a nap to replenish his energy, but when he thought about the possibility of a German attack after the rain stopped, he was worried that the Germans would attack at any time. Rashenko instantly fell asleep and lost all energy.

I was sitting in the headquarters, wandering around with nothing to do. I wanted to take a nap, but I was worried that the restless group of German troops on the opposite side would attack at any time and ruin everything.

In this era of material scarcity, there are not many ways of entertainment in people's lives in peacetime. Soldiers under war conditions are even more bored to death. In their free time, except for smoking and drinking, there is almost nothing that can be used in general. Ways of entertainment.

Seeing the bored Malashenko, he sat at the table and smoked almost an entire pack of cigarettes in less than an hour. Political Commissar Petrov, who was afraid that he would die if he continued smoking like this, put down the pen in his hand, raised his head and spoke. said.

"If you continue to smoke, you will beat yourself to death. Before that, you'd better think of something else to do, distract yourself and find something to do."

The immunity to cigarettes has almost reached the point of being invulnerable to all poisons. Malashenko, who finished smoking another cigarette in just one minute, took the butt of the cigarette from his mouth, squandered it on the table in front of him and used a German soldier's cap. After putting it in the ashtray made of M35 steel helmet, he immediately replied.

"Otherwise? What do you think I can do now? I want to take a nap, but conditions don't allow it. I bet those German guys will come over as soon as the rain stops. I have nothing else to do now except smoke. Of course, if you have any good suggestions, I’m all ears.”

Seeing Malashenko's helpless expression, Commissar Petrov sighed and handed a report in his hand to Malashenko.

"This is the latest casualty statistics report. The field hospital is now full of wounded. I originally planned to go to the hospital to see the wounded, but judging from the current situation, you should be more suitable."

"How about it? Are you interested in visiting our wounded comrades? Getting a personal greeting from the comrade leader will help them recover faster."

Holding the report handed over by Commissar Petrov in his hand and thinking about something amiss, Malashenko spoke back with a slight doubt.

"You couldn't be more lazy and didn't want to go, so you sent me there, right? Logically speaking, you are more suitable than me for tutoring the wounded. I don't think this is normal, I'm serious."

In fact, as Malashenko said, in the past, the work of condolences to the wounded was basically carried out by political commissar Petrov. As a political commissar, it is easier for him to work among the soldiers. As a military officer, Malashenko asked himself that he was really inferior to Petrov, the political commissar, so he asked such a question.

What is slightly surprising is that Commissar Petrov did not make too much cover-up but bluntly admitted the facts in his mind.

"To be honest, I really want to be lazy. In the past few days, when you were away, I went to the field hospital almost every few hours. Now I have a little allergic reaction to the smell of disinfectant and alcohol, but you are different."

Political Commissar Petrov looked expectant as he put another corrected document aside and softly closed the pen cap with one hand.

"How about it? Do you go there in person, or do I reluctantly bring your blessings and condolences?"

""

Malashenko frowned as he held the report on the long list of casualties in his hand.

To be honest, Malashenko didn't want to go to a place like the hospital. The scenes he had visited a few times before were either filled with broken arms and legs, or there were several full pots of human blood piled on the ground like pigs being slaughtered in rural China. , if someone accidentally kicked over the basin, it would be very painful.

After hesitating again and again with the list in his hand, Malashenko finally gave a positive answer after considering it for nearly half a minute.

"Okay, I'll just go. Keep an eye on the regiment headquarters. If anything happens, send someone to call me at any time."

Political Commissar Petrov shook his head and smiled lightly after being warned by Malashenko. Sometimes Malashenko had a lot of nagging.

"Even if I'm not there, Commander Cherchenkov is still commanding next door, so there's nothing to worry about."

Subconsciously, I wanted to say something more, but after thinking about it, I thought so.

Malashenko, who had nothing more to say, immediately walked to the door, grabbed an umbrella, pushed open the door that was blocked by the strong wind outside, and rushed out.

The field hospital in the rear is less than one kilometer away from Malashenko's regiment headquarters, and is located in the southern area of ​​the captured train station.

Yesterday, when Malashenko led his troops to break through from the warehouse northeast of the train station to the south, the wounded, doctors and nurses from the field hospital were directly mixed with the field maintenance battalion, and came on a truck to break through the fire line.

If the German army, which was only thinking about putting out the fire in the south, was half a beat too slow to react, and the counterattack force mobilized by Malashenko was rapid and rapid, the non-combatants at the center of the army would have been properly protected, holding up umbrellas. Malashenko, who was walking on the road to the field hospital, suspected that something bad might really happen.

The heavy rain that has been falling since last night has made the road very difficult to walk on.

Originally, the ground to the south of the train station was paved with bricks and stones. Although it was not very smooth, at least one foot would not be deep and the other foot would not be covered with dirty water and mud when one walked on it. It was better than stepping on the bumpy mud puddles now. Strong inside.

Thinking that the train station was like this because of the fierce attack by the German guys, Malashenko, who regretted why he didn't call a car to take him here when he went out just now, couldn't help but want to curse.

"These bastard Germans will one day let you taste for yourself what it's like to fight on your own soil!"

Because the previous battles for the south of the train station were too fierce, almost all the buildings that could house people were destroyed. The field hospital now located south of the train station is not sheltered from the wind and rain in a complete building.

What appeared in front of Malashenko was a temporary field hospital pieced together from several half-collapsed houses that looked like they were about to become ruins.