Chapter 847 British Newspapers

The sunshine and air in the early morning are the most refreshing and refreshing time. Bathing in the early morning sunshine makes the whole person feel much calmer.

Malashenko likes this feeling. He likes to have political commissar comrades to cover for him. He likes to sleep quietly until the sun basks in the sun without anyone coming to look for trouble. He likes to wake up in the morning and wash up normally.

I brewed a cup of American coffee plundered from Karachev, held in my other hand a piece of black bread that was as hard as a brick but at least filling my stomach, and held a freshly lit American cigarette in my mouth. Comrade Brigade Commander had a wonderful day. So this episode started at seven o'clock in the morning.

He had just arrived at the pile of stones in the small square in the center of the village to sit down for breakfast. Lavrinenko, who was also holding bread and a kettle in his hands and a stack of what looked like newspapers under his arm, arrived. Sitting quietly next to Malashenko.

"I knew you were here as soon as I guessed it. A good life has almost turned into a vacation. Be careful not to live a good life and lose your fighting spirit."

Faced with Lavrinenko's kind reminder, Malashenko put the coffee in his hand on a small flat stone at his feet, pinched the cigarette in his mouth and exhaled a puff of smoke. Malashenko sighed that his recent life was indeed quite good. Respond jokingly.

"If it hadn't been for the recent events that made me unable to leave, I would have actually wanted to take a leave of absence and go home. It's better to have Natalia take care of me than having breakfast here with you who hasn't showered in these months.

"Ha, you still want to ask for leave. Didn't you wake up in the morning? You don't even think about going back after I ask for leave. Just stay here honestly."

The dishonest Lavrinenko took a bite of the bread and drank some saliva. The dry bread, which was so hard to chew with his teeth, would be quite difficult to swallow without water.

While eating and chatting like this, Lavrinenko quickly remembered the newspaper he had brought with him on this trip.

"Oh, by the way, I have something good to show you. I'm sure you'll like it!"

"Good stuff? What are you talking about?"

Malashenko tilted his head in confusion. Lavrinenko on the side had already handed the newspaper roll in his hand to Malashenko.

"Look at this. I heard that it was a newspaper brought by the British guys who sent us fighter jets. It is said that it contains some information and information that is beneficial to the Red Army's frontline propaganda. Someone deliberately asked for a few copies and kept them. You are not Do you understand those English words? Look at what's written there. Read it for me. I have nothing to do until I have breakfast.

Malashenko took the newspaper and took a quick look and immediately saw the huge word "The Times" printed on the front page of the newspaper. The content below was accompanied by black and white photos and large paragraphs of English descriptions. It really looked like Lavrin. Coe said it was an original newspaper from England.

"This is the Times of England. Where did you get this? It's uh, a miracle, or is it unbelievable that something like this appeared on the front line?"

It was quite incredible for Malashenko to see British newspapers on the Soviet front line.

Although Lavrinenko gave a rough description of the origin of the newspaper, what Malashenko still couldn't figure out was from whom did Lavrinenko get such a strange thing?

Compared with Malashenko's surprised look and disbelief as he stared at the newspaper in his hand, Lavrinenko's expression was much calmer, as if nothing happened.

"Last night a carload of people came to deliver ammunition to us. The lieutenant leading the team chatted with me while signing the handover formalities. I gave him a cigarette to smoke, and he jokingly asked me if I wanted to read a British newspaper. The kind that my superiors allowed to be circulated, I said yes without thinking too much, but to my surprise he actually had a copy, so he gave it to me because he couldn’t understand it himself, and also told me that there was an interesting story recorded on it. Someone who can read newspapers told him so."

After listening to Lavrinenko's description and explanation, Malashenko looked a little confused. Why did the origin of this newspaper become more and more ridiculous the more he heard it? It's like a library loan book that has been circulated by who knows how many people.

"Okay, let's forget about it and let's see what's written in the newspaper."

The material life and spiritual life on the front line are all extremely scarce, and there are no entertainment facilities. In the past two days, Malashenko and Lavrinenko have even begun to reshape their outlook on life with classic Soviet literary masterpieces. There is a newspaper from the United Kingdom that is indeed quite curious.

"Well, the front page headline: It took the Germans several times longer to capture several streets in the Soviet Union than it did to capture France, and they are still unable to move forward!"

After finishing the first paragraph, Malashenko looked at each other and Lavrinenko beside him, and the two good brothers burst into laughter in unison.

"Hahaha, I like the way this British guy is described! It sounds so good! Keep reading, Malashenko, hurry up."

Malashenko, whose smile never faded, took another puff of cigarette and ate a piece of bread, and soon continued to read.

"I am your old friend Robert, bringing you the latest first-hand news from the Soviet battlefield."

"The city is burning like hell, Satan, what's going on? The following text has been crossed out?"

Malashenko, who was about to read it in one breath, hesitated to speak. The second paragraph of the article was crossed out and covered with handwriting. Judging from the repeated smearing, it was obviously intentional.

"Okay, you know why it was crossed out, Lavery, continue with what was not crossed out."

"At Mamayev Kurgan, Pavlovsky House, and Stalingrad Railway Station No. 1, all the German attacks were ruthlessly crushed! The Germans mobilized heavy troops to charge repeatedly but only got corpses, more corpses, and enough land to bury the corpses. The French, led by Joan of Arc and Napoleon, were not even one-tenth as brave as the Russians!"

"A German soldier who was on leave and went home without revealing his name told our informant that there was a terrifying legend circulating in Stalingrad that there was a Russian iron butcher who could kill and take away his "The crazy killings continue in Stalingrad. The ruins where people can speak Russian drive the German soldiers crazy and hysterical. Everyone is thinking about a fatal question: Can they, the German soldiers who fought bloody battles for Hitler, return to their hometown to see their mothers again?"