(3rd Update)

At half past four in the morning, as the commissar had predicted, the Chechens chose this moment to attack.

This time, the Chechens used three heavily armed pickup trucks, from the barbed wire on the glass to the steel skin on the front of the car, and they converted the fragile pickup truck into a sturdy light armored car, and everyone knew exactly what was inside the armored car, and they didn't even dare to think about it. What was placed inside was definitely enough car bombs to send everyone to hell.

"Focus your fire on the pickup and don't stop firing." The commissar gave everyone instructions for a final decisive battle, and the pickup broke through the last direction, and they were able to meet Marx, the communist mentor.

Everyone seems to have forgotten the pain and fear, and all that is left in their heads is to kill and hold their ground, stray bullets form a network of fire around the pickup truck, and in the dark night, the RPG seems to have lost its accuracy, and it is always unable to hit the three pickup trucks that dodge left and right to dodge and move forward.

At the most critical and tense moment, a bullet from a sniper on the lookout pierced the driver's head, and the first pickup truck extinguished the fire. The dead pilot let go of the button, and a huge ball of fire exploded from the cockpit, forming a magnificent three- or four-meter-high fireball.

As soon as the sniper tried to shift his position, he was shot directly from the lookout by a bullet from an enemy sniper. The defending Soviet troops lost the last sniper and now had to rely on rifles and general-purpose machine guns in their hands to stop the enemy's attack.

"Don't stop, keep shooting." Valentin turned his guns on the other two vehicles, and the soldier loaded the last RPG bazooka and aimed it at the red pickup. He roughly calculated the pattern of the car bomb's advance, and then aimed at a distance of five meters in front of the car.

An RPG rocket was fired and hit the front of the pickup truck, knocking the whole car to the ground under the huge explosion of air, and the attack of the second car bomb was also crushed.

Only the last of the frantically rammed pickup trucks, the most heavily armored one, dodged all the bullets and rockets, and got closer and closer to the not-so-tall, barbed-wire concrete wall.

"Evacuate everyone!" Valentin dragged Ivanov and several young men around him and jumped from the fortifications more than two meters high, Ivanov fell to the ground, the harmonica in his arms fell out, and I don't know where it fell.

"My harmonica." Ivanov still wanted to climb back and get his things back, but was grabbed by Valentin and ran back, before he ran ten meters, an earth-shattering explosion came from behind him, Valentin political commissar fell on Ivanov's body, and the huge air wave generated by the explosion set off a thick layer of snow, burying Ivanov and Valentin under the snow.

Ivanov's hearing sounded as if it had been stripped by a sponge, and he patted his ears with his hand, and the mud and sand mixed with blood flowed out. Ivanov turned sideways, pushed the commissar aside, got up, and looked back at the terrible scene that he would never forget in his life.

Burning soldiers rolled in the snow, hot car wreckage splattered everywhere, some soldiers were blown off and only half of their bodies were left, but they still crawled forward, dragging a long trail of blood, they tried to pick up their rifles and continue the fight, only to die of exhaustion when their fingers hooked the trigger.

"Commissar!" Only then did Ivanov remember that Valentin, who had been protecting him all the time, hurriedly checked the situation of the other party. A steel bar pierced through his abdomen, and blood was pouring out of the wound, soaking his white camouflage uniform.

Ivanov tried to pull the steel out of his abdomen, but was stopped by Valentin, who coughed and said, "Hey, boy, I want to live a few more years." Are you just looking forward to my death? Bastard, don't pull it out, pull it out and my blood will flow faster. ”

"But if you go on like this, you're going to die!" Holding back tears, Ivanov picked up Valentin and walked towards the last intact building, ignoring the explosion of shells around him. The Chechens were strengthened in their armed forces, and unlike the bomb charge that began at the beginning, they had grenadiers and mortars for guerrilla warfare.

The remaining Soviet soldiers did not retreat, they continued to resist the Chechen militants, throwing grenades when they ran out of bullets, and picking up bayonets and preparing for white-knuckle combat when they ran out of grenades.

The remaining twenty surviving soldiers gathered behind the fortifications, their faces stained by the fighting, but they still looked ahead with resolute eyes. Valentin looked at them, barely squeezed out a smile, and said, "It is worthy of the soldiers I brought out, none of you have chosen to retreat." ”

"This is the final battle, do you choose to sacrifice your life for your country, or do you choose to surrender to Chechnya?" Political Commissar Valentin added to himself, "It's just a matter of choosing to die with dignity or to die with a nest." ”

"We will not abandon the commissars." One of them pulled the bayonet from his waist from its sheath and hung it on the muzzle, "Even if only the last man remains, we will not abandon our positions." ”

"Good." The commissar smiled one last time, he stretched out his finger and pointed to the head, "For the sake of the Soviets, forward, comrades!" ”

The enemy's gunfire was getting closer, and every soldier hiding behind the wall was preparing for the final sneak attack and attack, and the enemy's footsteps were getting closer and closer, and Ivanov's hand holding the handguard trembled a little.

"Three, two, one, rush!" Ivanov gritted his teeth and stood up, the enemy was ten meters away, and the firelight reflected on their faces, which looked particularly hideous. At the moment when everyone ran out of the bunker, there was a deafening sound in the sky behind them, and the militants seemed to see ghosts staring at their rear, and the guns in their hands fired indiscriminately into the sky.

As soon as Ivanov wanted to turn back, two Hind helicopters flew low over their heads, blowing their beige uniforms.

The 12.7mm airborne machine gun vented its anger at the group of militants without hesitation, and the enemy who rushed to the front was immediately hit into a bloody piece of flesh.

"Sorry, boys, we're late, take a break, and leave it to us." A member of the helicopter spoke over a loudspeaker to the surviving soldiers, and he said to the other pilot, "Destroy their mortar positions." ”

"Willing to help." Another helicopter flew to the left, where the enemy had no idea what was happening on the front line, but the hind's rockets would teach them how to behave, like an order from their superiors, to leave no one alive and solve the root cause of the unrest.

The flames and explosions created a brilliant night scene that pierced the pre-dawn sky. As the light of the last explosion dissipated, Ivanov raised his head, and the eastern sky had begun to whiten.

"These guys in the Air Force, you said that you will arrive at dawn when it is dawn? Can't you be so punctual a little earlier? Really. The political commissar who witnessed everything laughed and cursed, leaned against the wall to cover the hot wound and said to himself, "This time, you can really go home." ”

Perhaps hallucinating from excessive blood loss, the commissar saw that all the dead young soldiers were standing around him staring at him, and Valentin raised his hand to grab the hand of one of them, but his cold fingertips touched a trace of warmth.

It was the first rays of sunlight that shone into the room at dawn. The old commissar laughed, he covered his wound and closed his eyes, and slowly thought, well, the war is over, just let me sleep first, I'm too tired.

The Chechens began to retreat in a panic, and after the Hind helicopters, which had full air supremacy, cleared the remaining armed personnel, the armored units finally moved into the military base at dawn. Looking at the corpse that was overwhelming by the black press, one of the soldiers said in surprise, "Last night's battle must have been fierce." ”

"Yes, but we held it and not a single person retreated." The young soldier thrust his rifle downside into the snow, took a deep breath of the cold air, and lamented the aftermath of the bloody battle.

The war is finally over.

The wounded were sent to the rear for treatment and bandaging, and Varentin was carried out of his bunker and taken to the rear for emergency treatment, with the happy smile on his face that he had before he fell into a coma. The follow-up troops began to clean up the battlefield, constantly carrying out the corpses, and after tidying them up, they covered them with white cloths.

Unlike the elated survivors, Ivanov, who was alone, searched around the battlefield, anxiously trying to find the lost harmonica, and was advised to bandage his wounds first, but Ivanov forcefully refused, and people shook their heads, thinking that the soldier had gone crazy after being stimulated.

Ivanov knew that he was not crazy, and finally after digging through the blood with his fingers, he pulled out the last black sludge and finally found the harmonica buried underneath.

The joy of regaining it made Ivanov sit quietly on the trunk of the birch tree that had been blown off with his harmonica in his hand, looking at the corpses of his fallen comrades around him, as well as the devastated ruins, as if he had been deprived of all emotions in his heart, leaving only a numb shell to guard the place.

He wiped the harmonica with his clothes and silently played the unfinished "White Birch Forest", as if silently telling the sadness of the past.

"The sky is still overcast, and there are still pigeons flying. Who will prove those love and life without tombstones. ”

The melodious melody sounded, the dry branches of the birch forest swayed in the cold wind, as if to accompany the requiem softly, Ivanov closed his eyes, and he could feel that the dead comrades might be sitting beside him, talking and laughing, listening to him blow the last unfinished ballad.

The birch forest buried the smoke of gunpowder, as well as the living life.

"The snow is still falling, the village is still peaceful, and the young people are disappearing in the birch forest."