(2nd Update)

The white-hot battle slowly cooled down in the cold wind of the second half of the night, and every inch of the ground in front of it was filled with corpses, both of their own men and enemies, and the blood stained the originally pure white world into a shocking dark red.

The soldiers had their backs against the wall, their heads tightly tucked into their woolen coats, they were holding their guns, they were a little tired but they did not dare to sleep, the enemy always attacked at the moment when they were most tired, and Comrade Valentin predicted the time of the attack at four o'clock in the morning. No one will doubt the judgment of Comrade Valentin, because that was their most exhausting moment.

After counting the number of people, only half of the more than a hundred people in the base were now left, including ten seriously wounded soldiers, lying in the bunker after a simple bandage, swallowing and waiting for death to come. There will be no more medic to treat them, because half an hour ago, the last medic had died on the battlefield.

Valentin's political commissar inspected these patients, and everyone looked at him with complicated eyes, giving Valentin a feeling that he was behind. He walked up to a soldier who had lost too much blood, half-crouched down and held his hand, trying to give some comfort to the dying wounded. The soldier whose chest was dyed red saw Valentin, and he came back to his senses, he grabbed Valentin's sleeve tightly, and said, "Commissar, won't anyone come to save us?" The Motherland has forgotten about us, has it? ”

"No, child, the Motherland has not forgotten us, as long as we hold out until dawn, reinforcements will arrive." Valenkyin said bitterly, "You must persevere, we can all go home." ”

"That's good, I want ...... When I go home, I'm so tired, I want to sleep for a while, just for a while. The soldier's muttering became staccato and he took his last breath and gave the commissar a look. Valentin turned his head and saw a letter beside the soldier, he coughed up a mouthful of blood and said weakly, "If I ...... Really, can't go back, please...... The commissar took it and handed it to me, ahem, my mom. ”

The corner of the suicide note that was blown open by the wind contained only one very short sentence.

"I hope you can live well, mother, your son is honored to sacrifice his life for the country."

His eyelids grew heavier, he slowly closed his eyes and stopped breathing. Before he died, his other hand was holding a letter from his mother to him.

"I will, kid." Valentin put away the suicide note, he put a white cloth over his face, stood up and silently walked out of the bunker. The winter cold diluted the smell of blood in his nostrils, and the sight of the soldier sleeping quietly pounded his nerves.

"The Motherland will not forget us, and the armored forces will definitely arrive." Valentin gritted his teeth and repeated what he had said many times.

In fact, the communication of the base is now impossible to communicate with the outside world, they have no way to report the situation here to the headquarters, and the headquarters cannot know the tragedy of the war. This military base is like a small stronghold surrounded by Chechen militants, waiting for the arrival of troops. They just hope that the armored troops will appear behind them a little sooner, and someone will pat them on the tired shoulders and say you guys rest, and then leave it to us.

"Commissar." The soldier with gauze wrapped around his arm walked into the bunker, glanced at the surrounding sick numbers, and said to the commissar despite the burning pain of the wound, "Commissar, let's go, the front line still needs you." ”

"Okay." Simply answering a word, Valentin didn't say a word, he picked up his gun and walked to the front, where a group of soldiers was waiting for him. For the remaining Soviet troops, Valentin was their spiritual pillar, and as long as the commissar remained, this group of immature young people would not fall.

Ivanov's face was a little dirty with blood and mud, and he blended in with the soldiers around him who had been under fire for a long time, and he could no longer see the delicate and immature face and the sad expression.

Valentin walked up to him, sat down against the wall of the bunker, turned his head to Ivanov and said, "Young man, sing us another song, the morale is low now, they need encouragement." ”

Hearing the words of Political Commissar Valentin, these young people who were facing a mental breakdown all looked at Valentin with pleading eyes, begging him to sing a song to everyone, the last song.

Ivanov nodded, took out his most cherished harmonica from his pocket, and said to them, "Then I'll play the last song for everyone." This song was sung in Chinese by a middle-aged man I met on the banks of the Moscow River when I was traveling to Moscow. At my repeated request, he translated the lyrics into Russian and taught me to sing the song "Birch Forest". ”

Later, when Ivanov saw the man who taught him to sing on TV, it was Vice President Yanayev with a serious expression on Moscow TV at the time of the August 19 incident, and the shock caused to Ivanov at that time was incomparable.

Ivanov put the harmonica to his lips and slowly played the sad tune "Birch Forest". Everyone became quiet, for they knew very well that this might be the last time they would hear such a song in the midst of a war.

"The quiet village is covered with white snow, and pigeons are flying under the overcast sky. The birch tree engraved those two names, and they swore to love each other for the rest of their lives. ”

Some people held back tears rolling in their eyes, some silently wiped the mud on their rifles, and some clenched the photos and letters in their hands, knowing that it was too late to go back to many things. The cigarette in Valentin's hand was about to burn out, but he was still reluctant to throw it away, because it was the last cigarette in his pocket.

"One day the flames of war reached his hometown, and the young man picked up his gun and ran to the frontier. Don't worry about me, sweetheart, wait for me to come back in that birch forest. ”

Not far away, there was a series of crackling sounds of thick boots stepping on the snow, and Ivanov's song was interrupted before he could finish playing. He put down the harmonica and turned his head, saw the soldier in charge of reconnaissance running over, and said to Comrade Valentin out of breath, "Political commissar, political commissar is not good, the Chechens are preparing to attack again." ”

Comrade Valentin stood up abruptly, he pulled the bolt of Kalashnikov's gun and said to the soldiers around him, "Cheer up, boys." After this battle, we can all go home. ”

Everyone silently raised their guns, not as excited as before, but everyone's eyes gradually became calm and resolute.

The simple idea of going home, at this moment, became extravagant in the eyes of the soldiers.

The snow was silent, as if clearing the battlefield, re-laying a soft white curtain for the next round of fighting, and the snowflakes fell to the ground, drowning the faces of the young ones who had turned into ice sculptures, as well as the same fresh lives.