The sky was overcast, thick clouds were pressing down on the sky, and snowflakes were already falling one after another.

As soon as the two commanders of the 1073 and 1075 regiments arrived at the headquarters, they were forced to pull the political commissars outside the headquarters and hold an open-air memorial service for General Panfilov.

There was a one-and-a-half-ton open-top truck parked outside the door, and I don't know if the road was brought by the two regiment commanders or transferred by the political commissar from other places. Anyway, listen to the political commissar, and as soon as the memorial service is over, someone will immediately send someone to send the body of General Panfilov to the city of Moscow in this car.

Outside the division headquarters, more than 200 soldiers stood like trees, jagged and solemn, and they surrounded the political commissar standing on the stump, listening to his speech with serious expressions and intently speaking.

I stood two or three meters behind the commissar with my left hand on my chest and a submachine gun in my right hand. I thought that if I changed the submachine gun in my hand to dust, and the military uniform on my body to a monk's robe, it would be a one-armed god and nun shape.

Although I had been absent-minded, most of the words spoken by the commissar standing on the stump had penetrated into my ears. When he told the soldiers how the division commander rushed into the midst of the enemy and fought heroically before he died, I couldn't help but be stunned for a moment. You know, when General Panfilov was shot and died, I happened to stand by and witness the whole process. I remember that after the division commander was shot, he didn't say a word, covered his chest and fell directly on his back on the snow, without even shouting a word of grandiose, where did he start when he rushed into the middle of the enemy?!

I was thinking about it when I suddenly felt that my surroundings suddenly became quiet, and I quickly turned my head to look around, only to find that the commissar had stopped speaking, took the lead in taking off the hat on his head, led all the soldiers, and bowed his head to the body of the general covered with a blanket on the stretcher in silence.

I hurriedly put the submachine gun on my shoulder and took off the cotton military hat on my head. The weather was very cold, and when the cold wind blew, I suddenly felt a chill on my forehead, and my brain melon seeds were frozen and painful. I wanted to put my hat back on immediately, but when I saw that all the people around me were bareheaded and buried in silence, I couldn't make anything special, so I had to stick to it.

Although the silence was short, less than a minute, it seemed like a century to me. When the commissar spoke again, I immediately put my hat on my head and pressed my hand firmly on my forehead until I felt the coldness slowly leave me.

The four fighters stepped forward and lifted the stretcher on which the body of General Panfilov was lying, and looked at the truck with serious expressions. When we got to the car, the stretcher stopped. The two fighters who were originally standing in the car first lowered the tailgate, then squatted down and helped the soldiers under the car carry the stretcher into the car.

"Comrades!" The voice of the political commissar sounded around him again: "Let's shoot to see off the heroic division commander!" With that, he pulled out the pistol at his waist and held it high above his head. Hearing his order, more than 200 weapons of various calibers were also pointed at the sky, and I took off the submachine gun from my shoulder and aimed it into the air.

As the car started, a dense burst of gunfire rang out, everyone pulled the trigger, and the firing of machine guns, submachine guns, rifles, and pistols rang out. I cleanly drained the bullets from the gun, and then slung the submachine gun back on my shoulder, after all, it was too tiring to hold one hand up.

"Comrades!" When the trucks driving along the potholed dirt road disappeared from everyone's sight, the commissar began to speak again: "I have good news for you. For the valor and tenacity of our division in the defense of Volokolamsk and the brilliant results it achieved, the Supreme Soviet awarded us the Order of the Red Banner and renamed our division the 8th Guards Division ......"

Order of the Red Banner?! This statement confuses me again, I don't seem to have heard anyone say anything about this medal, and in what I relayed, there was no mention of any medals or nots, and who did the political commissar listen to?

Hearing this astonishing news, a soldier standing close to the political commissar was already excited, and shouted loudly at the surrounding soldiers: "Did you hear that? The Supreme Soviet awarded us the honorary title of the 8th Guards Division!! ”

What could be more to cheer for the honor-loving Soviets than to receive the praise of the Supreme Commander and to be awarded an honorary title?

One person, two people, three people, first the people around us, and then even the warriors standing in the distance cheered loudly, and everyone cheered with all their strength: "Ula! Ulla!!! ”

The soldiers were shouting, the commissars were shouting, everyone was shouting, and even I was infected by this atmosphere at the end of the day, and I couldn't help but shout after them, and all of them were shouting the same sentence: "Ula! Ulla!!! ”

When the shouting was almost over, the political commissar made a gesture and shouted loudly: "Everyone, please be quiet, and now let the new division commander, Lieutenant Colonel Oshanina, speak to us." When it was quiet, he jumped off the stump and asked me to come forward and give my inaugural speech.

When it was finally my turn, I put my hand on my hat and stepped on the stump. Someone next to me helped me to stand on the stump.

In the midst of the flying snowflakes, I formed an irregular line in front of the black pressed head, and raised my hands to salute solemnly in front of the faces covered with gunsmoke.

"Comrades, our heroic division commander, General Panfilov, died, and many of his comrades-in-arms fell. Although they can no longer speak, and they can no longer go to fight the fascist bandits with us, they are still alive in our hearts, and their exploits will ......live on forever."

The sound of gunfire and explosions in the distance filled my brief silence.

I took a deep breath to stabilize my emotions before continuing, "...... Now General Panfilov has died, but we still have the sacred mission of defending Moscow, and we will continue to fight the fascist bandits here. Although the battle will be more difficult in the future, the division commander will be with us, and his spirit in the sky will bless us to achieve the most difficult victory! ”

"Victory! - Ula !! Victory! - Ula !! The warriors began to cheer again, and I could not help but smile bitterly as I stood on the stump, and once again felt that Lao Maozi's vocabulary was too poor, and that there was no word to express his feelings except the word "Ula".

I got down from the stump, and the commissar stepped forward to say a few more words. Then, with his order to disband, the warriors immediately dispersed.

I stopped Lieutenant Ramis, who was passing me, and ordered him: "Comrade Lieutenant, from today onwards, your company will be assigned the duty of guarding the division headquarters and will be under the direct command of the division headquarters. ”

"But," he said with some hesitation, "is it appropriate for our company to be under the jurisdiction of the 1073rd Regiment, and without a formal written order, let us become under the direct jurisdiction of the division headquarters?" As he spoke, his eyes glanced at a lieutenant colonel standing not far away.

I resisted the urge to kick him and patiently explained to him: "In the enemy's sneak attack just now, the strength of the division's guards has been completely lost. At present, your company is the closest and most complete unit to the division headquarters, so if you don't look for someone, who should you go to to serve as a guard at the division headquarters? I also glanced at the lieutenant colonel, raised my voice and said, "I am now the division commander, and I have the final say in all matters of the Eighth Guards Division, do you understand?" ”

"Yes!" Ramis reluctantly accepted the reality, saluted me, and ran away.

The political commissar stepped forward and took my hand, and at the same time beckoned several commanders around me, saying: "Comrade commanders, don't stand here, let's all go to the headquarters, we should discuss the next operational arrangements." ”