Leaving the slightly dry fortress, Captain Valentin took Wei Ran around to visit his position.
Speaking of it, this is not a real company, or a complete company. After the round of shelling just now, the entire company only has less than 70 people with combat effectiveness, but it has to be Responsible for trenches over 150 meters in length.
These more than sixty people are more like a microcosm of the Soviet Union. There are city dwellers from Moscow, farmers from the countryside of Ukraine or Belarus, herdsmen from the following Stans, and even There were two Jews and a skier from Sochi.
In this company with a diverse but incomplete structure, everyone is extremely enthusiastic. They even try to look as clean as possible, intentionally or unintentionally, and then appear in Weiran intentionally or unintentionally. In front of him, his eyes looked expectantly at the camera hanging around Wei Ran's neck.
And Wei Ran, like a real reporter, tried his best to chat with everyone about their past, or take photos of them.
However, he only had two rolls of film in total, and one of them had taken several photos before he came here, so he was destined to be unable to take a single photo of everyone. At the same time, he I also want to leave some negatives for Daniela, who I haven’t seen yet.
Moreover, in order to avoid having all the soldiers wiped out with one shell by Germany on the opposite side, neither he nor Company Commander Valentin could organize everyone together to take a group photo.
However, this little regret did not last long and was solved by a young soldier from Moscow. This young soldier, who looked to be twenty-four or five years old at most, actually sent five or six unused films to Weiran!
"Where did you get it?"
Wei Ran asked in surprise. The soldier named Tonya had just been interviewed by him not long ago. He was a fair-looking man. A young man, but the soldiers around him unanimously called him an artist.
As for the reason, of course Tonya not only sings well, but also plays many musical instruments, and even learns ballet, and can use a piece of charcoal to sketch the surrounding comrades on the table.
“I brought it with me when I went to war.”
Tonya explained with a smile like sunshine on her face, “I also brought a camera with you. It’s the same brand, but that camera broke down after taking a bullet for me two months ago, and only these films are left. Now, since you don’t have enough film, go ahead and use it.”
"Would you like to lend me my camera?" Wei Ran said as he took off the camera hanging around his neck and handed it to him.
“No, no, no”
Tonya quickly waved her hand, “I just want to take photos of my comrades, so I’ll let you take them, you will definitely take them. Better than me."
"Then I'm welcome."
Wei Ran looked at the picture.The red window on the plane looked up and said, "Tonya, let me take a picture of you first!"
"Please wait a moment!"
Tonya looked around and responded, "I need to ask Vinia to help me shave first, and I also need to borrow a clean coat to match my bravery medal."
"It doesn't matter, I'll wait for you over there." Wei Ran pointed to a few soldiers who were banging away not far away and said.
"I'll be back soon!" Before she finished speaking, Tonya ran along the muddy trench and disappeared.
Putting away the film presented by the other party, Wei Ran walked to the soldiers not far away. These soldiers were making campfire stoves using milk cans and tin oil drums. After it was done, the fire was lit. At this time, some soldiers were sitting on the logs next to the stove, patiently baking the smelly and eye-catching foot bindings, as well as the wrinkled and pale feet soaked in mud and water.
Beside these biological and chemical weapons, there was an iron pot on a simple campfire stove, with potatoes the size of eggs being cooked in it.
A little further away, there are several soldiers washing pairs of German military boots stained with blood in large basins transformed from oil drums.
Seeing Wei Ran approaching, the soldiers all saluted with attention. Some wanted to say something but didn’t know how to say it, while others secretly cleaned up their wet clothes. military uniform. Wei Ran shook his head secretly, knowing that he was praised too highly by Valentin.
"What are you doing?"
Wei Ran sat beside a stove without anything to say. He also untied his leggings and took off his Chaohu. After putting on the wet boots, he took off the soaked foot-binding cloth, followed their example, and put it to the edge of the stove to bake slowly.
"Toasted Foot Wraps" A young soldier dryly answered Wei Ran's nonsense question with an obvious answer.
"Well...you don't have to do this"
Wei Ran grinned, "I am a soldier just like you. When necessary, I will also pick up a gun and join you. Fighting, of course, of course, I will take a photo of each of you later, everyone in this company, I promise."
"Really?"
The soldier who had just answered Wei Ran's question asked in surprise, "Comrade reporter, can you help me send the photos home then? My home is in Tula City..."
" And mine!"
A man who looked to be in his forties or fifties came over and said, "Comrade reporter, please send the photos home for me too! I haven't received them for four months! I received the letter from home. I want my son and wife to know that I am still alive and my home is in Stalingrad..."
"Where is your home?"
Wei Ran frowned. In September 1942, in addition to Rzhev devouring soldiers from both sides like a meat grinder, Stalingrad at this time was also aBottomless millstone of flesh and blood!
"Yes! Stalingrad!"
The middle-aged man sighed and said in a desperate tone, "I know Stalingrad is also fighting, but I believe "They must be alive!"
"They must be alive," Wei Ran said with certainty, "They must be alive."
"I guess they must be alive too."
The middle-aged man took out a sealed vodka glass bottle from his bag, pointed to the black and white photo inside and said, "Look, that's my wife Vitasha, that young man. It was our son Ivan. He went to work as an apprentice at the Stalingrad Tractor Factory six months ago. The vodka in this bottle was bought for me with his first salary, although we drank it. , but I will definitely take this bottle back and refill it with vodka."
Wei Ran opened his mouth and said with an increasingly certain tone, "After the war is over, I must let this young man take it out for a month. I’ll buy enough vodka with my salary to buy us all a drink!”
“No problem! Of course it’s no problem!”
The middle-aged soldier took a photo with the whole family! The wine bottle was wrapped again with a piece of clothing sleeve that seemed to be plucked from a German's body and put it back in his pocket. He said generously, "You must come to my house as a guest when the time comes. I will ask my son to use half a year's salary to treat you to a drink." Vodka is available in unlimited quantities like water!”
“If I can take a sip of vodka now, I’ll have no problem paying off my debt even if I have to work for a whole year.”
One is. The soldier who used a large brush to clean the German boots joked, "Of course, that job can no longer be like cleaning the boots taken from the corpses of the Germans. I even suspected that the Germans used horse urine to wash their feet. My nose is about to get athlete’s foot.”
“It’s safer to clean your boots than to take them off on the battlefield.” Another soldier who had not yet had time to ask his name said, "Is there any clean boots? I think everyone will have no objection to choosing a pair of suitable size for our journalist comrades."
"As long as he can take a photo of me later, I will have a chance in the future. I sent it home when I got there, and I don’t mind even if I go outside the trenches to borrow a pair from a German!”
Amidst the laughter and ridicule of the crowd, Wei Ran received the first gift here in a dumbfounded way! A gift, a pair of boots issued by the German motorized troops in World War II.
Before he could dry the wet boots, Tonya, who had the title of "artist", came over wearing a clean coat and pinned it on his chest. The only medal.
Putting the boots aside, Wei Ran quickly picked up the camera and took a photo of Tonya with his bare feet. Then he patiently waited for the other soldiers to put on the clean coats. , donned their own medals, and almost lined up to stand in front of the camera.
And in the sameAt about the same time, Tonya also took the plastic notebook handed to him by Wei Ran and carefully recorded the addresses of everyone who had taken photos.
Just waiting to finish taking pictures of these dozen people, the middle-aged soldier whose home is in Stalingrad said, "Artist, sing a song for us!"
"Yes! Sing a song!" the soldiers around encouraged him.
"How about singing "Holy War"?" Tonya asked, clearing her throat.
"This shitty war has been tormenting us for months, so don't sing about it."
A young soldier muttered in a low voice and then suggested He said, "Artist, please sing a song about Textile Girl. Maybe any other girl will do."
"Yes! Sing a song about Textile Girl!" The others agreed unanimously.
"Then the textile girl!" Tonya cleared her throat again, stood on a wooden box and started singing.
Gradually, all the busy soldiers around them temporarily stopped what they were doing and looked over, and some even used the things they could find in their hands to knock on things they could see around them. Beating time together.
Gradually, more and more soldiers were singing along, and the singing became louder and louder, even covering up the constant provocations and obscenities coming from the loudspeakers of the German positions opposite.
Gradually, the loudspeakers from the German position opposite also stopped. This damp and bloody position seemed to have become the exclusive stage for Tonya's personal concert.