Chapter 908 Where is home?

Just like what was agreed with Commissar Petrov.

Malashenko left after a while and took Kirill along with him. Although Kirill was still a little immersed in sadness at this moment, he was obviously more depressed than before after bursting into heart-wrenching tears. It felt a lot better when we first met.

"There are some things that maybe I shouldn't say right now, Kirill, but you have to cheer up and cheer up."

"You are an indispensable member of the No. 177 crew. I need you, Iushkin needs you, everyone needs you. With you, we can exert the strongest combat power as a collaborative unit. Just do me a favor and cheer up and get back to your normal self as soon as possible, okay?”

Political Commissar Petrov's words reminded Malashenko that Kirill, who had been growing up little by little in Malashenko's eyes, was now a qualified and outstanding soldier.

But before that, Kirill was a kid who had just graduated from college.

If we put it in the distant future, even if we can't find a job temporarily and stay at home to grow old, we will be forgiven. Maybe we can also get the comfort from our mother and the guidance of our father, and rebuild our own courage to face the future.

But now Kirill has lost everything. Except for his biological uncle who plays the role of father most of the time, Kirill has nothing in terms of the closest relatives around him.

Political Commissar Petrov, who was always used to leaving his strong side to Kirill, had his own reasons for doing so. Kirill's traumatized heart with nowhere to dock always needed a calm port as a temporary home. After careful consideration, Malashenko took it for granted that this was the time for him to take on the responsibility. He had this unshirkable responsibility and the reason why he had to do it.

Although there is no blood relationship, Kirill has long regarded Malashenko as one of the most important people to him.

During the battle, Malashenko was a comrade, the commander of the vehicle. Without him, Malashenko was like a big brother to him.

The age gap between the elders and the younger generations is real and cannot be denied. Compared with his uncle, whom he no longer blames, Kirill is more willing to confide his inner thoughts to his comrade, who is similar in age and is like an older brother.

"What I did just now was not good, Comrade Commander. I was too willful, almost like crazy. After calming down, even I felt that I didn't recognize myself just now. I felt that for a moment I almost It’s about to collapse, I feel like it now just thinking about it.”

"Okay, that's it. From now on, don't think about things that make you sad."

Halfway through Kirill's words, Malashenko, who spoke quietly, interrupted Kirill before he could finish his words completely.

People who live in the past can never face reality. Malashenko, who had a similar experience in his previous life, knows what he will do now.

"Speaking of which, are you hungry? I'm very hungry anyway. I just stuffed two pieces of bread smelling like engine oil into the tank last night and haven't eaten anything else since. Come on, I'll take you there. Eat something good! Don’t worry, I’ll pay for it.”

Malashenko, who didn't give Kirill a chance to answer, put his arms around Kirill's shoulders. He was as carefree as a shirtless gangster with tattoos holding his bodyguard. Even his walking posture was comparable to that of the villagers in later generations. The appearance of the most energetic young man made the others quite surprised when they saw this scene.

"What's wrong, Comrade Brigade Commander? Your walking posture is not right. Why is there someone still holding you in your arms?"

"Would you like to tell Comrade Political Commissar that it looks like you have a leg cramp?"

"It's better to say goodbye. Maybe Comrade Brigade Commander is very happy that he just won the battle?"

Malashenko couldn't hear the whispers fifty or sixty steps away from him. Of course, even if he heard them, he wouldn't pay attention to them. Malashenko was now focused on how to get Kirill to recover as soon as possible. Matter of fact, there is no time to worry about anything else.

Material life on the battlefield is very scarce, there are almost no entertainment facilities, let alone women. Of course, even if there were women to play with, Malashenko estimated that Kirill, who was definitely still a little virgin, would not dare to brave the rapids, not to mention that this idea was not very realistic in the first place.

The only thing that can cheer up Kirill, who still doesn't like to smoke, is delicious food. Although this may be just Malashenko's wishful thinking, it is worth a try after all.

The work of clearing the town of Karachi by the hurriedly arriving friendly infantry divisions is still in progress. By now, the gunshots are almost no longer heard. It is estimated that only the prisoners who are hiding are left.

The 1st Guards Heavy Tank Brigade, which was unable to enter the city for the time being, set up a temporary brigade headquarters in the suburbs outside the city, right where Malashenko had just led the team to fight.

The soldiers who carried out high-intensity assaults for dozens of hours even slept in fragments and took a quick rest. As for food, let alone food. They ate dry food and drank water all the way without telling a lie. She was already so hot and uncomfortable that she was almost starving to the point of being hungry.

After winning the battle, all the current tasks were temporarily over. Once there was a chance to take a good rest, it was natural to get some delicious food for the soldiers. This was personally done by Petrov, the political commissar who was responsible for managing life and political and ideological work. Order given.

At present, this order is being implemented very well. Malashenko can use his nose to confirm that the order is being implemented very well from dozens of meters away.

Sniff—sniff—

"It smells so good. What delicious food are you making? I can hardly bear it anymore. Kirill, let's go and eat something first."

Malashenko sniffed hard several times with his nose and almost drooled. He immediately took Kirill without saying a word and walked quickly towards the tent where the scent wafted out.

But the scene he saw as soon as he entered the tent really made Malashenko stunned on the spot, who had never expected it.

"Iushkin, when did you sneak over here? And you! Lavry, why are you here too!"

Iushkin's mouth was full, and even the lard that had just been stewed in the pot was flowing down the corner of his mouth. Iushkin turned around, and his face was swollen like a pig's head after eating, which almost made Malashenko. Didn't recognize it.

"Ugh, take off the tube (comrade commander), come and eat some of the hotpot (come and eat some), it's so delicious."

Looking at Iushkin, whose mouth was stuffed with all kinds of delicacies, he could barely hear what he meant when he spoke like a pig grunting. Malashenko, whose stomach was in a state of turmoil, could no longer hold back his desire. He quickly jumped forward and immediately grabbed the food on the plate in front of Iushkin.

"You loser! Save some for me. Don't pour all the stewed pork into it. Damn it, I asked you to save some for me!"

"There's still some in the pot, don't take it from me."

"I'm going to eat yours! Give it to me quickly! Oh, Lavri, you're such a hungry ghost, so much beef can kill you, give me a piece quickly! Give me the biggest one, hurry up!"

"If you don't give it, you can eat the small one. Don't grab this piece. This piece is mine!"

"Damn it, I am the brigade commander and you are the deputy brigade commander. You go and eat the smaller one. The biggest one is mine!"

The various tableware on the table were snatched away by the three people as if they were reincarnations of starving ghosts. There were noisy clinks, soup was spilled, and meat foam was splashing. Only Seryozha, who had made a fortune in silence, directly took the cook and used it for cooking. He squatted by the pot with a big spoon and ate the ready-made food on the spot. The scene seemed to be full of chaos, scrambling and yelling, but Kirill, who was standing there blankly, suddenly felt something new in his heart. feelings.

Here is the 1st Heavy Tank Brigade of the Guards, the No. 177 crew, and my brothers who are in the same car with me who never see outsiders and feel like brothers, as well as the deputy brigade commander who always likes to joke with me and is optimistic and informal.

It turns out that this is my forever home.

Kirill, whose nose was filled with the aroma of food, finally raised an upward arc from the tears that flowed down and spread to the corner of his mouth, and then blurted out a heartfelt words as he took a step forward.

"Uncle Ivan, give me a spoon, I want to eat the most delicious pot!"