That night, I stayed at Rokossovsky's headquarters and talked with him all night and listened to him explain to me what kind of commander is the best commander.

As soon as the topic of this topic was opened, he kept talking so much that I couldn't even find a chance to interject. He said with interest: "...... On the battlefield, many things depend on the behavior of the commander, who should have great perseverance and a sense of responsibility, and be good at overcoming the fear of death. Wherever he is needed, where he is needed to boost morale, he should be there, even where he should not be. …… In the current situation, good commanders are the most valuable, and the soldiers trust them and need to be led by them to complete the most difficult tasks and establish meritorious deeds. Only under their leadership can the combat effectiveness of the units be increased. I hope that under the leadership of some of these commanders, the combat effectiveness of the troops will be strengthened not day by day, but hour by hour, so that they can engage in organized and stubborn battles with the enemy, whether on the offensive, on the defensive, or in the time of retreat. ……”

"Do you think there are many such commanders in the Sixteenth Army?" As he took a drink from the glass teacup with the silver cup holder, I subtly interjected.

"Among the commanders of the 16th Army, although many graduated from the Frunze Military Academy." When he said this, a look of pride flashed on his face, but then he said in a regretful tone: "But when it comes to excellent commanders, I am very sorry to tell you: there are really not many in the 16th Group Army, at least among the officers who have graduated from these regular academies. ”

When I heard him say this, I thought to myself, in fact, there were many excellent commanders in the Soviet army, but those marshals and generals who had experienced a hundred battles, made great achievements, had rich combat experience, and had excellent command ability, but they were purged in the Great Purge Campaign in the past few years. Those excellent commanders, who did not fall under the enemy's butcher's knife, let Stalin be executed indiscriminately, which is simply self-destructing the Great Wall.

"Leda, what are you thinking?" Perhaps seeing me in a daze, Rokossovsky asked curiously.

"I was thinking," I hesitated when I said this, but fortunately, there were no outsiders, and I still said what I wanted to say: "I wondered if Marshal Tukhachevsky, and many other generals who had fought in the First World War and the Revolutionary War at home, were alive, and they were to lead our army in this war against the German devils, would we have lost as badly as we have now?" ”

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

After he left, I closed the curtains, took off my uniform, lay down on the camp bed specially prepared for me, covered my head with a blanket and slept on my head.

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

After washing up, I walked back to the headquarters when I noticed that something was wrong with the atmosphere. There were a number of soldiers standing near the headquarters, each of them wearing a brand new gray army coat and armed with the latest Bobosha submachine gun, which was in stark contrast to the soldiers of the 16th Army in the khaki short fur coats.

Suspicious, I continued towards the headquarters, but was blocked by a soldier reaching out. "What does this mean? What are you from? What are you doing here? Why are you holding me back," I asked, dissatisfied.

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

In the midst of the stalemate, a familiar voice suddenly came from the headquarters: "Let her come." When the warrior heard this, he immediately stepped aside and made a gesture of invitation to me.

I was surprised to find that the person who came out of the command was actually Lieutenant Colonel Bezikov. I hurriedly greeted him and said with some excitement, "Hello! Comrade Lieutenant Colonel Bezikov. I didn't expect to see you here. ”

Bezikov shook my hand, pulled me to stand outside the command, and whispered: "I'm here with the big guys." ”

Big shot? I secretly wondered in my heart, who is this so-called big man? As if facing a great enemy, he even mobilized troops from the Moscow Garrison Command to be on alert.

Within two minutes, the mystery was revealed, and I saw Rokossovsky walk out of the command first, then step aside, and respectfully make a gesture of please to the mysterious figure inside. I was completely stunned when I saw the mysterious man in the gray coat appear in my field of vision. I'm not dreaming, I actually saw Stalin!

I rubbed my eyes vigorously and pinched my thighs again, the real pain made me gasp, it seemed that it was real, not that I was dreaming. But why did he suddenly come here, because the 16th Army retreated, and he came here specifically to boost morale? But did he think about his own safety, if his whereabouts were discovered by the Germans, and the area was covered with artillery fire or heavy bombardment, his life would be in danger.

Stalin came up to me, held out his hand to me and said: "Hello! Comrade Oshanina. ”

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

"Comrade Lieutenant Colonel," Rokossovsky beckoned me from behind Stalin, "Comrade Stalin is about to return to Moscow, and you will be responsible for escorting him to the nearest airfield." ”

"Yes, guaranteed to complete the mission."

Before getting into the car, Rokossovsky handed me the submachine gun I had used before, and repeatedly told me to be vigilant all the way, to act as a good bodyguard, and to protect Stalin's personal safety.

Stalin's convoy consisted of three cars and two trucks, two cars with guard officers in front of the road, Stalin's sedan in the middle, and two trucks full of fighters in the back. I sat in the same car as Lieutenant Colonel Bezikov and Stalin, he sat in the co-pilot's seat, and I had the privilege of sitting in the back seat with Stalin.

Stalin and I were talking to me all the way, almost always with his questions and answers, and the content was as concise as a telegram. Although I was talking to Stalin, my nerves were very tense, and from time to time I looked around the car window, fearing that a German soldier had come out of nowhere.

Stalin saw my nervous expression, smiled and said, "Comrade Oshanina, don't be nervous, the German fascists are still far away." Although they have a great advantage for the time being, they will not be able to get here in the short term. ”

I said in my heart, if you are not afraid of 10,000, you are afraid of what if, if the Germans really break through the defense line, get here, and kill your old man, then there is no need to fight this war again.

Just as I was thinking about it, I suddenly caught a glimpse of several tanks more than a hundred meters in front of me, driving in the direction of our convoy, and there were quite a few soldiers sitting on them. I hurriedly pointed out the window and shouted, "Look, there's a tank there!" ”

Bezikov, who was sitting in the front row, looked at it and said disappretently: "Comrade Oshanina, don't make a fuss, that's our own T-34 tank." ”

As soon as the words fell, a tank shell whistled and flew over, hitting the car in front of the road, blowing it into a ball of fire. The car that followed closely behind came to the emergency brakes, and the officers in the car jumped down and fell to the ground.

"What's going on? For what are our tanks going to shoot at us? Stalin asked in alarm.

"Comrade Stalin, this is not our tank. It was supposed that the Germans used captured tanks, posing as our troops, to blend behind our lines. As I spoke, I opened the door on one side and jumped out, holding my submachine gun on the roof of the car, ready to shoot.

The four tanks lined up and slowly drove towards us, and the soldiers who had been riding on the tanks also jumped down and trotted towards us in a straggler formation.

"Comrades, for Stalin! Destroy the German devils in front of you, rush! Behind me came the shouts of an officer, followed by a crowd of fighters in a neat formation and charged the Germans.

A tank shell landed in the middle of the attacking queue, and with a "boom" sound, the two fighters turned into a mist of blood in an instant. Hearing the explosion, the rest of the fighters 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, and immediately pulled the trigger and fired desperately at them. A few German soldiers threw away their weapons and fell to the ground, not knowing whether they had been killed by me or by the charging soldiers.

Several shells exploded around me, splashing up the mud and snow that fell on me. "Lieutenant Colonel Oshanina, what are we going to do?" Bezikov asked in a panic when he appeared behind me.

"Quick, get back in the car." With that, I got into the car first.

Inside, I was stunned by what I saw, the windows were shattered by shrapnel, Stalin was leaning in the back seat, covered in blood, and the driver was lying on the steering wheel covered in blood.

Bezikov, who had just gotten into the car, was also frightened by what he saw, and asked me incoherently: "Now...... Now, what do we do? ”

"Get out of the way, stop here, and we'll be hit by the Germans as a live target."

"But the driver has already died."

"Do you know how to drive?" I can't drive, so I pinned my only hope on him.

"Yes," he said, with some embarrassment, "but the driver blocked the steering wheel." ”

"Push him down, and then you get behind the wheel." These are extraordinary times, and there are not so many things to care about.

Bezkov pushed the car door, then pushed the driver out of the car with all his might, closed the door, and started the car again. Not long after driving out, a shell hit the place where the sedan had just been parked. It's so mysterious, I secretly wiped the cold sweat on my head, and if I was one step too late, we would have been blown to pieces.

I looked back and saw that the soldiers of the guard unit were still not afraid to rush towards the German tanks. Seeing all this, I can't help but have a sour nose, the infantry fighting tanks, knowing whether to send the road to death or not to turn back, these soldiers are really amazing.

The sedan frantically rushed along the road to the front. I put the submachine gun aside and looked at Stalin's wounds. He was wounded by shrapnel and the wound on his chest was bleeding incessantly, so I took out a first aid bandage and pressed it against his wound in the hope of stopping him from losing a lot of blood.

After a long bumpy road, the sedan finally arrived at a field airfield, where Bezikov told him that the plane that took Stalin back to the city was parked. Our car rushed near the airport and was stopped by a unit led by a man in civilian clothes.

Bezikov got out of the car, walked up to the man, saluted him, and reported something. Then the man walked over and bent down to look at the car. I opened the car door and walked out and said to him: "Comrade Stalin is seriously wounded and needs to be rescued immediately." ”

He glanced at me, then ordered several fighters behind him to get into the car, carried Stalin down with all his hands, and then rested on a stretcher and carried him onto the plane.

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

"The head of the Kremlin." He replied to me in awe.

The steward, after he had done everything, came over with a few warriors. Stop in front of us, then turn around and tell the warriors behind us: "Disarm them, then arrest them." ”

When he said this, I was stunned, what did I do wrong to arrest me? Turning my head to look at Bezikov, I saw that he had handed over all the weapons on his body with a blank face, and I had no choice but to obediently do so, handing over both the submachine gun and the pistol to the soldiers with serious expressions.

Bezikov and I were handcuffed, and then, escorted by the bayonets of several fighters, got on Stalin's plane.