Chapter 829 War Children

Facing the question raised by Malashenko, the soldier who looked quite helpless immediately replied.

"What the child said is indeed true, but not all of it is true. There is a hidden secret in it, Captain Malashenko."

Hearing this, Malashenko did not take over the right to speak. He just responded as a listener and quietly pricked his ears. Malashenko knew that the soldier would definitely have something to say next.

"The child's mother does have some health problems. I have also gone to see her, but she seems to have nothing wrong with her except physical weakness."

"You know, Commander Malashenko. The blockade by those Germans is becoming more and more cruel every day, and food and various supplies are really in short supply! Many soldiers on the front only eat two meals a day. To be honest, I only had one meal today and I am very hungry now. I hope I can get something to eat during the handover, otherwise I will probably be so hungry that I can’t sleep again.”

"The food of the soldiers is like this, not to mention the civilians. Physical weakness is very common, almost everyone is like this. It's just that the child always insisted that his mother was indeed sick, and asked us to find a doctor to treat his mother. see a doctor."

"All the doctors are very busy in the field hospital. I have never seen a doctor or a nurse in the half month I have been on duty at the dock. Captain Malashenko, do you think I should Where can we find a doctor to treat this child’s mother? This is really worrying us.”

After hearing this, Malashenko finally understood what was going on. In the final analysis, the trouble was caused by the German blockade and the shortage of materials and manpower.

Logically speaking, Malashenko shouldn't have to take care of this matter. After all, there are so many similar bad things in Stalingrad. If Malashenko wants to take care of them one by one, don't cross the river and stay. Forget about being the chief internal officer of Stalingrad.

But some things can't be measured by just talking about it. Really encountering it and just talking about it are completely different things.

For Malashenko, since this kind of thing has happened to him, he must take care of it. This is a matter of principle that cannot be said.

"How far away is the child's mother? Where is she?"

"It's not far away, Commander Malashenko. It's in the air-raid shelter next to the pier. It's just around the corner from the north of the pier. It's a two-minute walk."

Malashenko took off his cigarette butt, threw it on the ground and stamped it out. He turned around and walked to the evacuating team not far behind him. He glanced around silently in the crowd and soon found him. After finding his target, he stepped forward and slipped him out of the crowd.

"Hey, hey! Comrade leader, what happened? Can you let me go first?"

Dr. Karachev, who was grabbed by Malashenko's arm and dragged out of the crowd, was confused. Out of curiosity, Anya, who was limping and with an injured leg, ran up to him. Malashenko, who had just gathered a doctor and a nurse, didn't say much nonsense, and simply recounted the facts he had just heard briefly and completely.

"How is it? What do you think the child's mother is like? Is she really sick?"

"Well, you can only know this after seeing it. The child's description of the pathological condition can only be used as a reference. You need to actually contact the patient to make a judgment."

Kalachev replied to Malashenko in his own professional terms as always. After hearing this, Malashenko nodded slightly. It was not surprising that Karachev said this.

"Okay, bring your things and we'll go over now to see what's going on."

"However, you just said that boarding would be completed within ten minutes, and now there is less than four minutes left, Comrade Commander."

"I just said it casually to promote efficiency. Do you really think that all that stuff can be loaded onto the ship in ten minutes? Pack your things and come with me quickly, and bring all your work stuff with you."

"Comrade Commander."

As the soldier said, the road to the air-raid shelter outside the dock is not too far. Malashenko and his party, led by the little boy Yegor, quickly arrived at their destination, surrounded by collapsed ruins and A body being carried out of the cave was the first thing Malashenko saw.

Before Malashenko and the adults could take any actual action, Yegor, who was just around Malashenko's waist, was the first to run towards the entrance of the cave, reaching out and lifting the hole at a speed that was difficult for adults to react. The rag covering the body on the stretcher was opened to reveal the face.

Fortunately, the body on the stretcher was not Yegor's mother. The little boy's posture and expression showed that he had breathed a long sigh of relief and dropped the stone.

"Where did you come from, kid? Go on your way and don't block the road!"

"Get out of the way, don't block it."

Yegor, who was reprimanded by the adults, did not make a sound, but quietly moved aside. He watched the body on the stretcher being taken away and then stopped and stared at it. His small body was slightly shaken by the cold wind on the street. trembling.

"Okay, little Yegor, can you take your sister and uncles to see your mother now? Let's set off now."

The first person to step forward was neither Malashenko nor Karachev, but Anya, who was limping with an injury on her leg and had difficulty moving. I have to say that careful women, especially those in the profession of nurses, Due to their nature, they can always pay more attention to details and emotions than the big men.

The expressionless Malashenko turned his head slightly and glanced at Karachev beside him, and found that the buddy next to him was also looking at him with a similar expression.

After looking at each other, the two men smiled helplessly. There was nothing to be ashamed of losing to a woman in such a matter.

After walking through the long and narrow corridor and entering the air-raid shelter, the first thing that penetrated Malashenko's nostrils was the strong smell of sweat, excrement, vomit, blood, and various unknown smells mixed together. The smell was even more unpleasant than the smell right after a bloody and brutal battle on the battlefield.

"Oh, hell, the smell here is absolutely terrible. Comrade leader, don't you have any medical conditions at all?"

Malashenko glanced at an unknown civilian lying less than twenty centimeters away from his feet. The curled up body wrapped in a blanket was so small that it hardly looked like a human being but like a dog. He would not have died on the roadside. The kind of miserable wild dog that anyone would take a look at.

The answer that was already on his lips came out quietly immediately.

"This is not the United States, you know. To see such a situation here shows that those Germans are definitely not much better. In the hell pot called Stalingrad, it doesn't matter whether the people in the pot are Soviets or Germans. ”