War Photographer's Notebook

Chapter 1 The Gift of Professor Stingy
Just south of Volgograd, Chacha Town on the shore of Chacha Lake once again ushered in the farm market every Tuesday.

In an abandoned farm next to the shore of the lake, cars or vans with their license plates covered are neatly arranged according to the customary rules, and the opened trunks are full of all kinds of weird objects.

From World War II medals with mud left, to Makarov pistols smelling like gun oil.From all kinds of unrecognizable porcelain vases, to long outdated accordions and record players.There are even passports, suitcases, and laptops from various countries stolen from unknown pockets.Basically, as long as you are willing to spend money, you can always find some weird things here.

And in the core area of ​​the market, an old Slavic man who is over fifty years old and smells of alcohol is holding half a bottle of gin in one hand and half a pickle in the other hand, walking and stopping between the stalls. , Occasionally call the stall owner and ask a few words in a low voice.And behind him, there was an Asian young man pulling a shopping cart.

There is nothing else in this tattered shopping cart, all kinds of Soviet newspapers and magazines from the World War II era.Even at the very edge, there was an unopened bottle of gin and a half-can of pickles.

"Professor, we've been shopping all morning. Are you sure you can really find clues in this ghost place?" Wei Ranpa pulled away a woman who came up to sell books on her own initiative, and asked the old man who had just finished chatting with the stall owner out of boredom.

"Victor, be patient."

Professor Alexey took a sip of wine leisurely, "If you feel bored, you can go shopping around by yourself or go fishing by the lake, but don't worry, we will definitely find what you want."

"That's what you said two hours ago"

Wei Ran reluctantly unscrewed the can, and let the other party pinch out a pickle again, "You didn't find what you were looking for, but you have already eaten half the bottle of pickle, and don't forget that my wife told me to stare at you to drink less." Order some wine."

"Wait until I finish this bottle of wine, if I haven't found it, I'll go back, and how about giving you an extra graduation gift then?" Alexei shook the bottle, "As a thank you, just forget about drinking." Well, if I have time in the afternoon, I'll take you to Chacha Lake."

"Actually, it's fake to buy information, and it's true to find a chance to drink?" Wei Ran exposed the other party's trick without any expectation, "Also let me guess, this time the gift is another stack of brand new Soviet rubles?"

"Fart your Stalin!" Professor Alexey jumped and scolded, "I have already given away all my Soviet rubles!"

"It's just the last stack left?" Wei Ran asked back as expected.

"Fart! Fart your Stalin!" Professor Alexei blushed and pointed around, "This time I will pick out a decent gift for you at this market, at least worth five thousand rubles!"

"As long as I don't have to pay for it myself," Wei Ran blocked all the old man's escape routes with one sentence.

"I'm so blind, why did you leave you bastard in a moment of confusion?" Alexey raised his head and took a sip of gin, too lazy to say another word to Wei Ran, and swayed towards the next one. booth.

And Wei Ran, who was following behind him, continued to push the shopping cart and followed behind him like a normal person, concentrating on being a porter.

The quarrel between him and Professor Alexey started almost four years ago when he first came here to study. He thought that after graduating from university, he could finally rest his ears and lips, but he didn't expect this old thing to come back again. Saved myself with a good job as a professor's assistant.

But the reason for such "good" treatment is all due to the fact that Professor Alexei has a Chinese wife, and it is also due to the fact that this teacher's wife and Wei Ran's mother are classmates from kindergarten to high school.

Otherwise, with his terrible college entrance examination results, he is definitely not qualified to enter Volgograd State University to study history as an international student.Even if it wasn't for the four or five years of professor Alexey and his teacher's hand-in-hand teaching and practice word by word, let alone his graduation certificate, I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to understand this stupid talk.

Of course, for Professor Alexey, an old eccentric who drinks every day, he just wants a reliable and cheap labor force to help him do some private work.

Walking around with Professor Alexey all the way, when most of the bottle of gin and pickled cucumbers went into Professor Alexey's stomach, the teacher and student finally found their dream in a remote stall. looking for someone.

After rounds of bargaining, Alexei reluctantly paid a high price of [-] rubles, and Wei Ran was able to smoothly carry the wooden suitcase into the shopping cart.

According to the stall owner, all the negatives in this box were taken during World War II, but whether they can find the clues they want to find from these films is still a question mark.

"How about this broken box for me?" Alexei asked, holding on to the fifty thousand rubles, pointing to a completely rusted iron box at the far corner of the booth with his chin.

"Unless you add another eight thousand rubles," said the stall owner, clutching the other side of the ruble.

"Are you poor and crazy?" Professor Alexey raised his voice at least an octave higher. "Eight thousand rubles for a broken box? Why don't you go and rob the Petersburg bank!"

"It's the same as the negatives you bought, all from the same closed down photo studio." The stall owner simply let go of the ruble and kicked the box on the edge of the stall with his toe, "And after I got it, I I haven't had time to open it yet, there might be gold inside."

"Gold? Why didn't you say there was Stalin smoking a pipe?"

Professor Alexey shook the banknotes in his hand, "I'll give you another three thousand rubles at most, and this crappy box will only fool foreign tourists. Who would buy this kind of rubbish?"

"make a deal!"

The stall owner agreed to the deal very straightforwardly. The box was not bought at all, but a "gift" he asked for from the buyer in a shameless manner just like Professor Alexei at this time.

As for whether the box is really a treasure, the stall owner has no doubts. He has already used the engine endoscope to look along the rusted damage. There are only some moldy clothes in it, otherwise he would have opened it a long time ago. up.

"Since I bought the box, how about giving me this vernier caliper?" Professor Alexey bent down and picked up an open bakelite box.

"Or I'll give you my wife too"

The stall owner took back the vernier caliper angrily, "This is a high-end product produced by Bosch in Germany during World War II. It is more expensive than the broken film you bought."

"If you don't give it, don't give it away." Alexei reached out and picked up a bayonet issued by Germany in World War II, "Is it okay to give this to me?"

"Old stuff, do you want to buy it or not?" The stall owner directly lifted the hem of his clothes, revealing a polished P38 pistol.

"No, I didn't say not to buy it"

Professor Alexey put the bayonet back to its original place very quickly, took out a few large bills from his wallet, and handed them to the other party together with the ruble he had been holding in his hand.

Greeting Wei Ran who hid far away and pretended not to know each other, loaded the almost rotten iron box into the shopping cart, and the teacher and student immediately walked towards the parking lot of the pier market.

"Professor, why did you buy this broken box?" Wei Ran asked while picking out a piece of rusty shell the size of a bottle cap from the tin box.

"Look carefully at what's written on the side of the box," Professor Alexey proudly reminded.

Wei Ran bent over and looked, "Truth. Pravda?!"

"It's Pravda. The owner of this box might be a reporter from that newspaper, and there might be a camera or something that the reporter used inside."

After trying in vain to pick up the second bottle of gin in the shopping cart, Professor Alexey said shamelessly, "But no matter what treasures are in this box, they are all yours, and it is your university." Graduation gift!"

"Are you kidding me?" Wei Ran looked like a ghost, "Who would want this crap?"

"Victor, dear Victor"

Professor Alexei said solemnly, "Compared to the value of the unknown treasure in the box itself, the surprise when you open the box is the most precious, isn't it?"

"No, you just don't want to spend money." Wei Ran once again ruthlessly exposed the trick that the stingy professor was about to use up.

"Stop talking nonsense, do you want it?" Alexey asked abruptly in authentic Chinese, the expression in his tone was very similar to that of his aunt when she got angry.

"Yes, why don't you come here for nothing."

Wei Ran stuck his neck and said reluctantly, if he had known earlier, he might as well get a wad of Soviet rubles from the other party. At least those waste papers that are too opaque to paste the windows would be worth 50 yuan a piece after bringing them back to China. Zhang's high price, there are many fools who are willing to buy it.

But this almost rusted tin box, not to mention whether its owner is a reporter, even if it is a reporter, there is a question mark whether there is an old camera in it.

After leaving the market, Professor Alexey never mentioned the matter of going boating on Chacha Lake, and urged Wei Ran to drive the dirty Vaz van towards the city of Volgograd.

Wei Ran, who had known for a long time that this would happen, didn't care, and drove straight to the urban area on the west bank of the Volga River, more than 60 kilometers away.

When Wei Ran stopped the car under a high-end apartment building, Professor Alexey pointed to the rear compartment before getting out of the car, "Remember to check all the negatives when you get back."

Before Wei Ran could open his mouth, Professor Alexis, who had just left the carriage, patted his forehead, "Also, if you find any clues related to tanks or World War II in the photos, please send me a message."

"there's one more thing"

Professor Alexei, who had just walked two steps, ran back again, and then saw Wei Ran waiting for him with a bottle of gin and a smile.

"It's all right now." Professor Alexei took the gin contentedly, and walked into the door of the apartment.

"10, 9, 8" Sitting in the cab, Wei Ran was not in a hurry to leave, but slowly started counting down.

Sure enough, before his countdown reached zero, Professor Alexey ran out of the apartment building anxiously, carrying a wine bottle.

"Why haven't you left yet?" Professor Alexey opened the compartment door while asking.

"You must have forgotten to take something again." Wei Ran responded with an expression that he had guessed a long time ago.

"Then why don't you know how to deliver it for me?" Professor Alexey picked up a bouquet of roses bought at the pier market, and without waiting for Wei Ran's response, he turned around and walked into the apartment.

"It's almost this time." Wei Ran didn't restart the car until this time, and went straight to a workshop used to process canned fish in the Soviet era between the Motherland Statue and the Volga River.

This old workshop with a length of 50 meters and a width of nearly 15 meters was bought by Professor Alexis and his wife with a high-priced loan at the end of last year, and more than half of the area was converted into a characteristic homestay and travel agency by the wife of the teacher. , while the other half was changed into a studio where Professor Alexei took on private work.

As for Wei Ran, he usually does not work for Professor Alexei in the studio, or goes to the travel agency next door as a tour guide for a few days, taking domestic tourists to eat, drink and have fun, and at the same time talk about the history of the Soviet Union that he learned in university. .

Although this kind of life is too fulfilling, but the income is not low, at least this year's tuition fees have returned.And the most important thing is that living here is much more comfortable than the dilapidated dormitory in National University where the bedbugs are crawling everywhere.

Familiar with the way, he parked the dirty Wazi bun at the door of the studio, Wei Ran took out the key and opened the shutter door, and then moved the negatives of the wooden box that he bought a few hours ago to the workbench.

At the innermost side of this huge work room, at least a quarter of the space is filled with rows of bookshelves, all of which are preserved in various historical files or old film negatives that Professor Alexei has accumulated over the years. Even videotape.

As for the clients of this studio, there are various public or private museums, as well as diggers wandering the wilderness to dig for war treasures. Of course, there are also some people sent by underground auctions.

Just like the T-34 tank that temporarily occupied the entrance of this studio, it was dug up from his backyard by a local collector not long ago.

Of course, no one cares if it was dug up from their own backyard, and it was sent to this workshop only because the collector wanted Professor Alexei to find out about this T-34 The history of the tank's participation in the war in order to tell a good story or sell a good price.

Like all the T-34 tanks that came out of the city's tractor factory during the Battle of Stalingrad, it never had time to paint, let alone have any serial number.But on the left side of its turret, there are five red paint handprints that survive to this day.

This is also Professor Alexei's only clue, but it's a pity that the two teachers and students have not found any information about this tank other than confirming that it was manufactured by the Stalingrad Tractor Factory in the past half a month. any leads.Even if Professor Alexei hadn’t always had a way to resell the materials he bought, the 50 ruble activity fund provided by the collector might have been spent.

"I hope these negatives can provide some valuable clues."

Wei Ran rubbed his hands, and after opening the wooden box, he took out the albums of negatives and placed them on the table.

Each of these negative photo albums is A4 paper size, five or six centimeters thick, and even on the first page of each photo album, the shooting time and film specifications of these negatives are marked with neat pen characters, and even on each negative Next to it, the location of the shooting and the name of the person or object are also written in the same handwriting.

"Such meticulous work does not look like the handwriting of a moron"

Wei Ran teased himself, and then found the photo album taken in 1941. Starting from the first page, he took out the cut negatives and stuck them on the copy board.

After turning on the power and pressing the switch, Wei Ran picked up a magnifying glass as big as the mouth of a bowl, and carefully observed the contents of each negative.

The moments recorded by these negatives taken more than half a century ago seem to have a long-lasting smell of gunpowder, from the ruins of dilapidated buildings to the streets full of dead bodies, to the smoky suburban battlefields and muddy trenches, Even the wounded and busy nurses lying in the field hospital, the content recorded in each negative is particularly thrilling.

Looking at the negatives one by one, as expected, I did not find any shots of the T-34 tank.Unsatisfied with putting these precious negatives back in place, Wei Ran turned to the second page and continued the operation just now.

Soon, the entire negative album turned to the last page. Wei Ran rubbed his dazzled eyes, took a short rest, and took out the 1942 negative album.

During this boring repetition, one after another negatives ran before Wei Ran's eyes like a revolving lantern. Occasionally, there was a shot of a T-34 tank in the photo, so he quickly took it off and fixed it on the film holder, and scanned it with a scanner. It is much more convenient to enter the computer for coloring than directly developing photos.

I kept working until dark, and even the statue of the motherland outside the window was lit up for more than an hour, and even the content in the negatives became various life photos and landscape photos after retirement.However, there were less than [-] negatives that were eligible to be scanned into the computer. Even he could be sure that most of the scanned photos had nothing to do with the tank behind him.

"Kang Dang"

Wei Ran threw the heavy magnifying glass on the table, muttered to himself while kneading his sore neck, "Another fifty thousand rubles wasted, I hope the professor can sell these negatives for a good price."

"Don't worry, I'll be able to sell these negatives tomorrow." Professor Alexey almost got stuck and walked into the studio, and brought Wei Ran a sumptuous dinner by the way.

"Scare me, when did you come?"

Wei Ran quickly let go of the Tokarev pistol in the drawer, which was put in by Professor Alexei himself, so that if a thief came in one day, he would not even have the power to fight back.

"Just arrived, come and eat."

Professor Alexey's lies came as soon as he opened his mouth. He would not admit that he came more than two hours ago, but he quietly hid in the travel agency next door to drink coffee with his wife when Wei Ran was busy.

"Where's my little aunt?" Wei Ran didn't even bother to wash his hands, and after opening the lunch box, he began to gobble up the steaming braised pork into his mouth.

"I'll be back an hour ago." Professor Alexey realized that he had slipped his tongue in the middle of the sentence. Without a word, he unplugged the power, picked up the laptop, and ran out of the studio in a hurry.

The old bastard!
Wei Ran, who was almost choked to death, hammered his chest hard, and watched as Professor Alexey disappeared at the end of the street in his BMW.

(End of this chapter)