Burning Moscow

: 59 Flying Calamity

   That night, I stayed in Rokosowski’s headquarters and talked with him all night, listening to him explain to me what kind of commander is the best commander.

   As soon as this topic opened up, he kept talking non-stop, so that I couldn't even find the opportunity to interrupt. He said with interest: "...On the battlefield, many things depend on the behavior of the commander. He should have great perseverance and sense of responsibility, and be good at overcoming the fear of death. Where is he needed, where is he needed to boost morale, He should be where he should be, even those places where he shouldn't be.... In the current situation, excellent commanders are the most precious. Soldiers trust them and need to lead them to complete the most difficult tasks. , To establish merits. Only under their leadership can the combat effectiveness of the various units be improved. I hope that under the leadership of some of these commanders, the combat effectiveness of the troops will not be strengthened day by day, but hour by hour. Only in this way can we start an organized and tenacious battle with the enemy, whether it is on offense, defense or retreat...."

   "Do you think there are many such commanders in the Sixteenth Army?" While he was drinking a glass tea cup with a silver cup holder, I cleverly interjected.

"Among the commanders of the Sixteenth Army, many graduated from the Frunze Military Academy." When he said this, a proud expression flashed across his face, but he said with regret. : "But when it comes to excellent commanders, I regret to tell you: There are not many in the 16th Army, at least not among the officers who graduated from these regular academies."

Hearing him say this, I was thinking to myself that there are actually many excellent commanders in the Soviet army, but those marshals and generals who have experienced many battles, have rich combat experience and excellent commanding ability, are in front of them. It was cleaned out in several years of great cleaning campaign. Those excellent commanders did not fall under the enemy's butcher's knife, but they were executed indiscriminately by Stalin. This was simply self-destructive of the Great Wall.

   "Lida, what are you thinking about?" Rokosovsky asked curiously, perhaps seeing me in a daze.

"I was thinking," I hesitated when I said this, but fortunately there were no outsiders, I still said what I wanted to say: "I was thinking, if Marshal Tukhachevsky, and Xu Many generals who participated in the First World War and the Civil Revolutionary War are still alive. They will lead our army in this war against the German devils. Will we lose as badly as we are now?"

   My words silenced him. After all, this is a sensitive topic, even as a general, he dare not touch it easily. After a short silence, he raised his hand to look at his watch, with a surprised expression on his face, and said in surprise: "Oh, it's so late!" Then he said to me, "It's getting late, you can rest early. , We have time to continue talking." After speaking, he stood up and fled without looking back.

   After he left, I drew the curtains, took off the military uniform, and lay on the camp bed specially prepared for me. I covered my head with a blanket and fell asleep.

   Early in the morning, I was awakened by the busy people outside the curtain. I quickly got dressed and got up, opened the curtain and walked out. After greeting the people in the house one by one, I took a paper bag and went to find a place to wash.

   After washing up, when I walked towards the headquarters again, there was something wrong with the atmosphere. There were many soldiers standing near the headquarters, each of them wearing brand-new gray military coats and equipped with the latest style of Bobosha submachine guns, in stark contrast with the 16th Army soldiers wearing khaki short fur coats.

   I continued to walk towards the headquarters suspiciously, but was blocked by a soldier reaching out. "What does this mean? What part do you belong to? What are you doing here? Why is it blocking my way?" I asked dissatisfiedly.

   The soldier blocking the road didn't say a word, just reached out his hand to block my way, and didn't let me go in the direction of the headquarters.

When    was in a stalemate, suddenly a familiar voice came from the command post: "Let her come over." When the soldier heard this voice, he immediately stepped aside and made a please gesture to me.

   I was surprised to find that the person walking out of the command post was actually Lieutenant Colonel Bezikov. I greeted him quickly, and said excitedly: "Hello! Comrade Bezikov. I didn't expect to see you here."

   Bezikov shook hands with me, took me to stand outside the headquarters, and then whispered: "I'm here with a big man."

   Big shot? I secretly guessed in my heart, who is this so-called big man? It made it as if it was facing a major enemy, and even mobilized the troops of the Moscow Garrison Command to alert.

   Within two minutes, the mystery was revealed. I saw Rokosovsky walk out of the command post first, then step aside, respectfully making a please gesture to the mysterious figure inside. When I saw the mysterious person in the gray coat appeared in my field of vision, I was completely stunned. I'm not dreaming, I actually saw Stalin!

   I rubbed my eyes vigorously, and pinched my thigh fiercely. The real pain made me gasp. It seems that this is real, not that I am dreaming. But how could he suddenly come here, because the Sixteenth Army retreated, and he came here specifically to boost morale? But has he considered his own safety? In case his whereabouts are discovered by the Germans, he will be in danger of covering the area with artillery fire or violent bombing.

   Stalin walked in front of me, stretched out his hand to me, and said, "Hello! Comrade Oshaninna."

   I was a little at a loss and didn't know what to do, so I stood there and stared at Stalin stupidly. It wasn't until Stalin repeated what I said just now that I came back to my senses and grasped his broad palm.

   "Comrade Lieutenant Colonel," Rokosovsky greeted me behind Stalin, "Comrade Stalin is about to return to Moscow. You are responsible for escorting him to the nearest airport."

   "Yes, I promise to complete the task."

   Just before getting into the car, Rokosovsky gave me the submachine gun I used before, and repeatedly told me to be vigilant along the way, act as a good bodyguard, and protect Stalin's personal safety.

   Stalin's convoy consisted of three cars and two trucks. Two cars with guards and officers opened the way in front, Stalin's cars in the middle, and two trucks full of soldiers in the back. I was in the same car with Lieutenant Colonel Bezikov and Stalin. He was in the co-pilot's seat, but I was fortunate to be sitting in the back with Stalin.

   Stalin was pulling homework with me all the way, almost always asking me answers, the content was as concise as a telegram. Although I was talking to Stalin, I was very nervous and looked around the window from time to time, fearing that some German soldiers would emerge from somewhere.

   Stalin saw my nervous expression, hehe smiled and said, "Comrade Oshanina, don’t be nervous, the German fascists are still far away from us. Although they have a great advantage temporarily, they won’t be able to get here in the short term."

   I said in my heart, if you are not afraid of ten thousand, you are afraid of something. If there are any Germans who break through the defense line, arrive here and kill your old man, then there is no need to continue this war.

   was thinking, I suddenly caught a glimpse of a few tanks appearing more than a hundred meters away from the front left, driving towards our convoy, with a lot of soldiers sitting on their bodies. I hurriedly pointed out the window and yelled: "Look, there are tanks there!"

   Bezikov sitting in the front row took a look, and said disapprovingly: "Comrade Oshanina, don't make a fuss, it is our own T-34 tank."

As soon as   's voice fell, a tank shell screamed and flew over, directly hitting the car that opened in the front, blasting it into a ball of fire. The car immediately behind came to an emergency brake, and the officers in the car jumped down and squatted on the ground.

   "What is going on? Why does our tank fire at us?" Stalin asked in a panic.

"Comrade Stalin, this is not our tank. It should be the Germans who used the captured tanks to pretend to be our troops and get behind our line of defense." As I said, I opened the door on one side and jumped out, putting the submachine gun on the car. On top, ready to shoot.

  Four tanks lined up and drove slowly towards us. The soldiers who were in the tanks also jumped down, lined up in a skirmish formation and rushed towards us.

   "Comrades, for Stalin! Get rid of the German devils in front, charge!" An officer's shout came from behind me, and then a group of soldiers lined up in a neat formation and launched a charge against the German army.

   A tank shell landed in the middle of the offensive queue. There was a "boom", and the two soldiers instantly turned into a cloud of blood. Hearing the explosion, the rest of the soldiers first lay on the ground, then got up again, and continued to rush forward with the weapons in their hands.

   I saw that the German infantry had come into range, so I immediately pulled the trigger and shot them desperately. Several German soldiers dropped their weapons and fell to the ground. I don't know if I killed them or were killed by the soldiers who charged.

   A few shells exploded around me, splashed with soaring mud and snow, and fell on me. "Lieutenant Colonel Oshanina, what should we do?" Bezikov asked in a panic when he did not know when he appeared behind me.

   "Quickly, get back to the car." As I said, I got into the car first.

   Entering the car, I was stunned by the sight in front of me. The window glass was blown to pieces by shrapnel. Stalin was leaning against the back seat covered in blood, and the driver was also lying on the steering wheel covered in blood.

  Bezikov, who had just got into the car, was also terrified by the sight in front of him. He asked me incoherently, "Now...now, what should we do?"

   "Hurry up and drive away, and then stop here, we will be hit by the Germans as live targets."

   "But the driver has sacrificed."

   "Can you drive?" I can't drive, so I put my only hope on him.

   "It will open," he said embarrassedly, "but the driver blocked the steering wheel."

   "Push him down, and then you come to drive." Now it is an extraordinary period, so I can't take care of that much anymore.

   Bezikov pushed the car door, then pushed the driver out hard, closed the door, and restarted the car. Not long after driving, a cannonball hit the place where the car was parked impartially. So mystery, I secretly wiped the cold sweat on my head, one step later, we will be blown to pieces.

   I looked back, the soldiers of the guards still rushed toward the German tank without fear. Seeing all this, I couldn't help but feel sour in my nose. The infantry hit tanks, knowing whether they were going to die or not turning back. These soldiers are really amazing.

   The car rushed forward along the road frantically. I put the submachine gun aside and looked at Stalin's injuries. He was injured by shrapnel~www.novelmt.com~ The wound on his chest was bleeding out continuously. I took out the first aid bandage and pressed it on his wound, hoping to prevent him from losing a lot of blood.

   I don’t know how long the turbulence took, and finally arrived at a field airport. I heard Bezikov said that the special plane to pick Stalin back to the city stopped here. Our car rushed to the vicinity of the airport and was stopped by a troop led by a man in casual clothes.

   Bezikov got out of the car, walked in front of the man, stood up and saluted him, and reported something. Then the man came over, bent over and looked at the situation in the car. I opened the car door and walked out and said to him, "Comrade Stalin was seriously injured and needs immediate rescue."

   He glanced at me, and then ordered the soldiers behind him to get into the car. He lifted Stalin down, then put him on a stretcher and put him on the plane.

   While they were busy with everything, I walked up to Bezikov and asked him quietly, "Who is this person?"

   "The chief of the Kremlin." He answered me in awe.

   After finishing everything, the general manager walked over with a few soldiers. Stopped in front of us, then turned his head and ordered the soldiers behind him: "Hand over their weapons, then arrest them."

   When he said that, I was stunned. What did I make wrong and want to arrest me? Turning my head and looking at Bezikov, I saw that he had handed over all the weapons on his face blankly, so I had to obediently do it, and handed over the submachine gun and the pistol to the serious-faced soldiers.

   Bezikov and I were handcuffed, and under the **** of the bayonets of several soldiers, we boarded Stalin's special plane.

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