The rumbling anti-aircraft guns rang out all night, and I knew that Hitler had held a rally and parade in the capital Moscow to celebrate the October Revolution Day even though the Soviet Union was approaching the city, and in a fit of rage, he ordered the Luftwaffe to increase the intensity of air raids. I think that for the frenzied air raids of the German army, in addition to these desperate anti-aircraft fire, the pilots of the Soviet Air Force will not sit idle, and they will inevitably fly their fighters into the air again and again to fight to the death against the invading enemy.

Concerned about my safety, Aksara told me to take refuge in the bomb shelter several times, but I politely declined her offers. The reasons why I am reluctant to go to the bomb shelter are very simple: first, I am not feeling well, and I do not want to stay in the dark and damp basement; The second is that I really didn't take the German air raids seriously, in my impression, except for a lucky hit on the Kremlin square, no aerial bombs have ever fallen near the city center, and the house I live in is exceptionally sturdy from the outside, and if it is not directly hit by a bombshell, the safety factor here is similar to that of a bomb shelter.

Early in the morning, the sound of artillery and bombs that had been ringing all night finally stopped. I got up from the bed and walked to the window, and looked out through the window pane with rice-shaped black tape, and I saw that it was foggy outside, and I couldn't see anything clearly five or six meters away. In my experience of five or six years in Moscow, this is not morning fog, but smoke from the burning of houses and trees in areas on the outskirts of the city that have been hit by air raids.

When I broke up with General Vlasov yesterday, he didn't tell me about today's work arrangement, and now it's smoky outside, and I definitely can't go out, so let's continue to sleep and make up for all the sleep I have missed during this time. Thinking of this, I lay down on the bed again with peace of mind and continued to dream of Zhou Gong.

When I was usually on the front line, my nerves were highly tense all day, and I always felt that I was seriously sleep-deprived, and I dreamed that if I had the opportunity one day, I would sleep until I woke up naturally. I didn't expect that when I had such an opportunity, I couldn't sleep. After sleeping for a long time, I got up and looked at the wall clock on the wall, and it was less than an hour.

I looked at the snow-white ceiling in a daze, thinking about the hot and dry summer of 2010, when there was smoke outside every day, and I spent the rest of my time at home watching the American drama "Spartacus Blood and Sand" except for going to the market every day. The first season only has 13 episodes, which is a little less, and I am waiting for the second season to be launched early, but I didn't expect the starring Andy Whitfield John to be suddenly diagnosed with cancer, so the filming of the new series was postponed indefinitely. Now that a few months have passed, I don't know what the condition of the actor is, and whether the second season has started to start. Alas, I'm stuck in this era of no TV and no Internet, and I don't know if there will be a chance to return to my era in the future, and I guess I won't have the chance to see this new series.

I couldn't sleep anyway, so I simply rolled over and got out of bed and walked around the room in circles, trying to find something to do to pass the boring time. I stumbled upon a bookshelf in the corner of the wall that was more than half a person high, but I didn't have it when I lived here anyway. The shelves are densely packed with books. My eyes lit up, and I stepped over to the bookshelf in two steps to see if there were any books I was interested in.

I am not interested in the most numerous Marxist-Leninist works in the books, so I simply ignore them. The second is a collection of poems, such as Pushkin, Lermontov, Mayakovsky, Yesenin and other poets, but I am not interested in foreign poetry, so I simply ignore it. The rest of the novels are written by Russian, Soviet, French, and British writers.

My fingers slid slowly over the smooth spine of the book, gently reading the names of these familiar writers and their works: Tolstoy's War and Peace, Anna Karenina, Gorky's On Earth, My University, Mother, Shorokhov's Quietly on the Don, Ostrovsky's How Steel Is Made, Maupassant's The Handsome Friend, Dickens's A Tale of Two Cities......

I picked and chose for a long time, and finally I only drew a copy of "War and Peace", and deliberately checked the chapters in it that described the fighting of the Russian and French armies of Borodino. Tolstoy described on paper the dispatch of troops, insight into the intelligence and heart of the commanders, and proved by many examples that any army that violated the Russian frontier would be destroyed and defeated. Although he depicted only the self-confident French Napoleonic army, which could not launch a powerful surprise attack, the battle line was stretched too long, and gradually sank into the Russian snow, the situation of the German army now approaching Moscow was very similar to the plot described by his old man.

As soon as I read the book, the time was very fast, and if it hadn't been for the fact that Aksara had come to bring me food twice, I wouldn't have known that it was already evening. Just as I saw a fire in Moscow and Napoleon's troops forced to retreat from the burning city, there was a soft knock at the door.

I put down my book and turned my head in the direction of the door, but the knocking stopped. I thought it was my own auditory hallucination, and when I picked up the book and was about to continue reading, there was another knock on the door. This time I heard that there was indeed a knock on the door, so I stood up, took the book to the door, grabbed the doorknob and pulled it hard, and opened the door.

There were two soldiers in military coats standing at the door, and because the light in the hallway was darker than in the room, I couldn't see who was coming for a while. When he was stunned, the other party opened his mouth first: "Hello, Comrade Oshanina, we meet again." "It was in Chinese, and as soon as I heard this Hubei colloquial voice, I immediately knew who Lu Dao was coming from.

"It's you, General Lin! Don't stand at the door, come in! I hurriedly beckoned the two of them into the house.

When the two of them entered the house, I found that they were actually wearing Soviet military coats, and Division Commander Lin's military coat actually had a red diamond-shaped collar badge on it, and I counted it, and there were three gold stars on it. Seeing them dressed like this, I couldn't help but be taken aback, and asked in surprise, "General Lin, why are you dressed like this?" ”

The interpreter took the initiative to explain to me: "Comrade Lieutenant Colonel, let me explain to you that the Yan'an side has agreed that Division Commander Lin will stay for the time being to participate in the Great Patriotic War of the Soviet Union. We went to see Comrade Stalin today, and he personally awarded the rank of lieutenant general to the division commander and made us change our clothes. ”

"Oh!" Only then did I understand what was going on, Division Commander Lin was awarded the rank of lieutenant general by two countries at the same time, although I dare not say that it is the last, but it is absolutely unprecedented.

"When we came back from the Kremlin, when we passed by, the driver who gave us said that you live here, and the division commander proposed to come and talk to you by the way."