War Photographer's Notebook

Chapter 1704 Imperial Cemetery
When the white light faded again, Wei Ran found himself once again at the farm in Edelweiss Clara's dream.

Out of habit, he looked up at the carefree girl in the distance, took a deep breath, and looked down at the metal notebook on the table.

Act Four

Role: Red Cross doctor Victor

Return mission: Kill at least two militants with cold weapons, rescue the prisoners, assist partner Kirill in completing the operation, and reach the refugee camp.

Red Cross doctor?
Wei Ran was stunned for a moment and couldn't help but look at Clara in the distance again.

But soon, a strong white light swept over, and he also saw the things that could be used this time, the Mauser bayonet, the food-cutting knife, the medical kit, and that was all.

fuck.
As Wei Ran cursed, the white light began to dissipate, but before he could see clearly what was around him, he heard a series of dense and deafening gunshots, explosions and even screams!
Blinking quickly to regain his vision, he realized that he was in the tarpaulin-covered cargo bed of a truck.

He recognized it at a glance. It was a Ural 4320, most likely a relic from the Soviet-Afghan War.

The truck bed was packed with women, children, and elderly people, and two injured men were lying there.

Their wounds had been bandaged and treated initially, and there was even a bag of plasma hung on the ceiling for each of them, but even so, their condition was still not good.

Looking down at himself, he saw that he was wearing a bloodstained white coat, with a Soviet medical bag painted white with a conspicuous red cross slung across his shoulder. In the pocket of his white coat, he also felt the Italian miniature camera.

Where did this special stick come from?

Before Wei Ran had time to turn around and take a look in the cab, the truck suddenly stopped with a creaking sound.

"Da da da!"

The sharp gunshots made the men, women, old and young in the cargo box subconsciously let out a half-scream, but they skillfully covered their mouths and even the children's mouths with their hands.

Wei Ran pushed through the crowd and walked to the rear of the car. Before he could pull open the curtain, a hand from outside lifted the curtain and shone a dazzling beam of flashlight into the cargo box.

Squinting my eyes and looking back along the arm, I saw a militant in a turban with only a pair of cold eyes. Behind him, in the dim sky, there was another militant holding an AK rifle and smoking.

"You, come down." The militant said to Wei Ran in Persian.

"We are Red Cross doctors, and the people in this car are refugees."

Before Wei Ran could speak, Kirill's voice was heard outside the carport. However, before he could finish his words, he let out a scream with a muffled sound.

"come down"

At the entrance of the cargo box, the militant had already raised his gun while speaking and pointed it at Wei Ran.

"I'll come down right away, but I can't see anything when you shine your flashlight on me. I'm severely myopic." Wei Ran said stutteringly in Persian.

Hearing this, the militant snorted, finally moved the flashlight away and took a step back.

Seeing this, Wei Ran deliberately blinked his eyes, then pretended to jump out of the car clumsily and accidentally fell.

His miserable appearance unsurprisingly made the militant burst into laughter, but it also allowed the fallen Wei Ran to see clearly that there were three militants in total in front and behind the car.

At this time, Kirill seemed to be hit by the butt of a gun. He was leaning on the tire on the side of the cargo bed and wailing. Behind him, an armed man was preparing to climb into the cab of the truck.

On the co-pilot side, it seemed that someone had also jumped out of the cab and was being interrogated by an armed man.

"Where did you doctors come from?" asked the militant who asked Wei Ran to get out of the car.

"Kabul"

Kirill answered the question on behalf of Wei Ran, "We are preparing to take these refugees out of Kabul and head to the refugee camp in Peshawar."

"Let these people get off the car. We have requisitioned your truck." said the militant at the rear of the car, raising his weapon towards the cargo bed.

"Please don't shoot"

Wei Ran immediately said, "Where are you going? We can take you there. This is the Red Cross's wounded and refugee transport vehicle. It can take you anywhere safely."

As he spoke, he also reached into his pocket and said, "Also, I have a small gift for you, my friend, please don't shoot. They are just innocent children and old people."

As he spoke, Wei Ran had already walked in front of the other person, took out the miniature camera, held it in his hand and handed it to the other person, "Please accept it, this is a gift for you."

"What is this!"

The militant finally put down the AK rifle he was holding horizontally, and stretched out one hand to take the delicate object in Wei Ran's hand, while at the same time shining the flashlight in his other hand into Wei Ran's palm.

Just when he touched the camera, Wei Ran suddenly had a Mauser bayonet in his hand, and before the other party could react, he stabbed it into the gap between the sternum, and crushed his heart with just a slight cut.

“It’s a camera, mate.”

As Wei Ran spoke, he had already loosened his bayonet and took the flashlight from the other person's hand, then pulled down the rifle.

Without turning off the flashlight, Wei Ran first pointed the gun towards his head and pulled the trigger, firing a bullet. At the same time, he quickly walked towards Kirill, handed the weapon to him, and pointed to the other side of the car body.

After receiving the hint, Kirill immediately rolled under the chassis, while Wei Ran walked to the driver's side holding a dazzling flashlight.

"Have you found anything good?" Wei Ran asked in Persian.

"Found some cigarettes and"

The militant, with most of his body in the cab, had not even finished his words when Wei Ran grabbed his belt and pulled him down.

"boom!"

As the militant screamed, a gunshot was heard under the chassis and another militant screamed from the other side of the car.

"Snapped!"

Without waiting for the sound of gunfire to fade away, Wei Ran kicked the militant he had pulled down behind the ear.

Stepping over the corpse, Wei Ran walked to the other side and saw the Red Cross doctor named Marcelo, the militant next to him who was shot in the arm and dropped his weapon, sitting on the ground screaming, and even Kirill who had just crawled out from under the car.

"Snapped!"

Before the two men could speak, Wei Ran kicked the militant on the back of the head, and the latter immediately calmed down and fell to the ground with a thump.

"You killed him?" Marcelo asked in disbelief.

"no"

Wei Ran denied it flatly, "He just fainted. I think we need to leave here quickly."

"Yeah, that's right, get out of here."

Marcelo reacted and quickly climbed into the cab, "We must not only leave Kabul, but also leave Afkhan."

"wait a second"

As Wei Ran spoke, he took off his white coat and threw it into the co-pilot seat, then walked around to the driver's side, squatted in front of the militant he had kicked to death, looked at him, then put on the other's burqa, pulled off his headscarf to cover his face, and tied a blue cloth strip on his right arm, imitating the other.

After picking up the other party's rifle, Wei Ran looked around and noticed a motorcycle lying on the side of the road that seemed to have a flat tire.

He walked to the rear of the car and pulled out the bayonet from the corpse's chest, and at the same time untied the cloth strip on his right arm. Wei Ran then went back to the passenger seat and untied the cloth strip on the corpse's right arm.

"Marcelo, you go to the back."

Wei Ran opened the passenger door and said, "Let me handle this problem if it happens again."

"Alright"

Marcelo left the cab without saying a word, jogged around to the rear of the car and climbed up.

As soon as he tapped on the window, Kirill stepped on the accelerator and drove the truck with red crosses painted on the hood and tarpaulin back along the road.

"How far do we have to go?"

Wei Ran asked, and at the same time glanced at the Arrow watch on the other person's wrist. The time displayed on the dial was a little after five o'clock.

"If we don't get stopped again, we can reach the refugee camp near Peshawar before dark," Kirill replied.

“It seems there is still a long way to go”

As Wei Ran spoke, he disassembled the AK74 rifle he had picked up. After a careful inspection, he restored it to its original state.

"You have changed a lot in these years in Afkhan," Kirill exclaimed.

"yes."

Wei Ran smiled, fixed his weapon on the armrest in front of him, and at the same time looked at everything in the cab of the truck.

The only special thing here was that there was a wicker basket placed between the two people. In it, in addition to a layer of naan bread, there was also a small pot of cooked mutton, a Soviet oil stove, and a large bundle of hemp ropes for which no one knew what they were used.

"Same as before," Wei Ran couldn't help but say.

Hearing this, Kirill was stunned for a moment, then smiled and said, "Yes, it's the same as it was back then."

"I almost forgot how long ago that happened," Wei Ran deliberately asked.

"Five years, five years." Kirill answered almost subconsciously, "The Soviet Union was still there at that time."

"yes."

Wei Ran was stunned for a moment, then sighed, "It turns out to be five years." Before he finished speaking, Wei Ran stopped.

At this time, the front of the car turned along the winding mountain road, and two pickup trucks that had suffered a serious traffic accident appeared in front of it.

One of the cars was upside down on the roadbed of the winding mountain road, and the other one was lying across the road, but its engine seemed to have been smashed.

A KPV heavy machine gun with a mountain anti-aircraft mount is also fixed in the cargo bed of this pickup truck.

Next to the car, there was a bonfire. At this time, two militants with cloth strips tied on their arms were torturing a man who was tied to the cargo bed of a pickup truck.

"Oh!"

Amid the strange and low sound of gunfire, one of the militants raised a pistol and fired at the man tied to the car, causing the latter to tremble.

But soon, another militant picked up a piece of firewood and pressed the sparking end to the prisoner's wound.

Seeing Kirill looking at him, Wei Ran reached out and picked up the rifle he had just checked, "Just drive slowly."

Kirill opened his mouth, but in the end he just slowed down the car and reminded, "There are still injured people in our car."

"God bless!"

At this time, Wei Ran leaned forward with his entire upper body, holding the AK rifle in his hand and waving it excitedly, "We have a car!"

After this shout, the two men subconsciously let down their guard, but Wei Ran raised his gun and aimed at the two militants fluently at this moment, pulling the trigger!
"Ta-ta! Ta-ta!"

After two consecutive short bursts of gunfire, the two militants were immediately shot and fell to the ground, and Kirill slowly stepped on the brakes.

Wei Ran did not relax his vigilance. Instead, he got out of the car with his gun in hand, carefully walked around the pickup truck, and then looked in the direction they were going.

Fortunately, there seemed to be no one in that direction.

"Victor! Come here!"

At this moment, Kirill, who had already run to the prisoner, exclaimed in disbelief.

Hearing this, Wei Ran immediately ran over with a gun.

“Look at this guy!”

Kirill untied the wire from the prisoner's wrists and asked excitedly, "Murtaza, is he Murtaza?"

"Who are you talking about?"

Wei Ran was stunned for a moment, then quickly pulled out the flashlight he had just seized and pointed it at the man whose hand was still tied to the cargo box.

When the dim beam of light enveloped the man's face, Wei Ran recognized him at a glance. This man was indeed Murtaza!
"Why is he here?" Wei Ran and Kirill asked the same question.

"We have to get out of here as soon as possible!" Wei Ran said, reaching out to untie the wire on Murtaza's other wrist. "You take him to the car, and I'll deal with the scene."

"it is good"

As Kirill spoke, he picked up Murtaza and ran to the rear of the truck. At the same time, Wei Ran also gave the two bodies a rough inspection.

They were dressed similarly to the people who had stopped the car before, and looked about the same age as Murtaza, no more than 20 years old.

Bending down, Wei Ran picked up the silenced submachine gun that was still in the hand of the young man who had just shot Murtaza and took a look at it. Then he took out a few American grenades and stuffed the two bodies into the cabin of the pickup truck.

After turning around and getting into the cab of the Ural truck, Wei Ran honked the horn as a warning, then slowly drove the car to the side of the pickup truck and easily pushed it to the roadbed under the winding mountain road. Without stopping, Wei Ran shifted gears and stepped on the gas, steering the truck along the winding mountain road.

Not long after, there was a knocking sound behind him. Wei Ran had to stop the car, opened the door and asked, "What's wrong?"

"His condition is not very good. We need to perform surgery on him. Victor, you have to help me." Kirill shouted as he lifted a corner of the tarpaulin.

"Give me five minutes!"

As Wei Ran spoke, he pushed the door, got out of the car, and ran to the back of the car. He used grenades and hemp ropes to make a warning mine on the side of the road.

After getting back into the car and driving forward two hundred meters, Wei Ran laid a second warning mine, then maneuvered the car back about a hundred meters before stopping.

Without daring to turn off the engine, Wei Ran quickly ran to the rear of the car and got into the cargo bed.

At this time, a bright kerosene lamp and two bags of plasma were hung above the cargo box. Marcelo and Kirill were performing trauma surgery on Murtaza's left and right legs.

"He was also shot in the left leg, and a large blood vessel was injured." Kirill said without looking up, "I have clamped it with a hemostat."

"give it to me"

6◇9◇Book◇Bar

As Wei Ran spoke, he had already opened the medical kit and put on gloves, then under the bright light above his head he began to quickly clean the wound and suture it.

"Why is he here?" Kirill asked suddenly.

It was Marcelo who answered this question, “The war between the Soviet Union and the Afghan is over, but the war in the Afghan is not over yet.”

"At least he's alive now, that's good news," Kirill said.

"Instead of chatting, we should move faster. We don't have much time."

As Wei Ran spoke, he had already pulled out the bullet head and threw it into the tray, then began the rough rescue work.

By the time he had sutured the blood vessels and wounds, Kirill and Marcelo, who had started earlier, had just begun to suture the muscles.

“I can’t believe where you got your medical training”

As Wei Ran spoke, he had already taken over Marcelo's tailoring work. This old man was even slower than Kirill.

"We can't believe the medical training you got there either," Marcelo and Kirill said at the same time.

“Bandaging the wound”

Wei Ran responded to the other party's question with work.

As the three men worked in an orderly manner, the wounds all over Murtaza's body were cleaned and sutured one by one, and the smell of blood in the bucket inevitably became stronger and stronger.

"boom!"

Just at this moment, an explosion was heard from behind. Wei Ran immediately dropped his work, jumped out of the cargo bed, got into the cab as fast as he could, stepped on the accelerator and drove the truck out.

"boom!"

When the warning grenade exploded in the front direction of the car, he had already increased the speed of the truck to the maximum and easily escaped the explosion range of the grenade.

After driving along this winding mountain road for a full half an hour, Wei Ran stopped at a fork in the road. A moment later, Kirill also ran over and got into the driving seat that Wei Ran had given up.

"How is he doing?" Wei Ran asked.

“Survived”

Kirill answered as he drove the car, "He is conscious. We can have a good chat with him after we get to our destination and ask him what happened to him over the years."

"Why did you return to Afkhan?" Wei Ran asked suddenly.

“Why return to Afkhan?”

Kirill was silent for a moment and asked, "Why am I the only one who left Afkhan alive? Why am I the only one who was reunited with my family? I don't even dare to meet Ruslan and his family."

"So you returned to Afkhan?" Wei Ran asked.

“Those questions kept me awake at night.”

Kirill said painfully, "I thought maybe I could find the answer here, so I came back again."

“Now it’s time to leave”

Wei Ran said seriously, "Murtaza may be your answer."

As he spoke, Wei Ran handed the submachine gun he had just seized to the other party, "This gun seems to be Ruslan's."

"It is indeed his"

Kirill just took one look and admitted with a wry smile, "It's his gun."

“That’s the answer you’re looking for.”

Wei Ran then picked up a pack of cigarettes, rushed out a cigarette, lit it and took a puff, "In a sense, it might be a good thing that they didn't see the collapse of the Soviet Union. There will be more tragedies to come. Kirill, go back."

"Maybe it's time to go back," Kirill sighed.

"Speaking of which, have you and your girlfriend come to an agreement?" Wei Ran asked, "Have you found Hakim's girlfriend, Vida?"

"Before coming to Afkhan, I brought my adoptive father's family and Yelena from Russia to Italy. Yelena and I were married, and we also adopted the child of the female guerrilla fighter."

Kirill pressed the accelerator a little harder and said, "Remember those two girls?"

"Soraya and Joya?"

"That's right"

Kirill nodded, "They are now nurses at the clinic run by my adoptive father."

"That Vida."

"Unfortunately"

Kirill shook his head. "I went to Montpellier, France, several times, but I couldn't find this person."

"So you are an Italian now?" Wei Ran asked suddenly.

"Maybe"

Kirill said perfunctorily, as if he suddenly lost interest, and then increased the speed of the car.

During the long journey that followed, Kirill talked to himself about the things that happened when he and his children fled from Afkhan.

It tells how Marcello's family helped them obtain Italian citizenship, their embarrassing situation when he rushed to Moscow as an Italian to find his adoptive family after the collapse of the Soviet Union, and the hardships they went through in order to leave Russia.

But the only thing that is not mentioned here, or that Kirill is unwilling or even afraid to mention, is the families of Ruslan and others.

Finally, as Kirill was busy finding topics and talking about his own stories, the car finally crossed the border at midnight and drove smoothly into the gate of the refugee camp.

"Maybe I should really leave Afkhan"

Kirill stepped on the brakes and looked at Wei Ran and said, "I still killed someone in Afkhan. I should leave here."

"Don't ever come back here again," Wei Ran blessed in the rising white light, and at the same time he saw Kirill seemed to hand something to him.

When the white light dissipated, Wei Ran couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. He finally returned to his familiar underground studio.

He rubbed his temple tiredly. He had never felt so exhausted both physically and mentally.

This time was different from any previous time. The changes in the Soviet Union before and after the war, and the changes in Afkhan after the war. For him, an "insider", caught between the guerrillas and the Soviet soldiers, he didn't even know which side he should "stand" on.

He sympathized with the invaded Afkhan and the guerrillas who were like moths to a flame, and he also sympathized with Kirill and others who were in a sense "tricked" into fighting in Afkhan.

But he knew even more that the Soviet Union was the aggressor in the true sense, and he also knew that a few years later in Grozny, Afkhan launched a bloody revenge.

Inexplicably, he remembered what Kirill once said, "War is a mess of tragedies and corpses mixed together.

No matter how hard we who are stuck in the mud struggle, war is still war, and mud is still mud."

Rubbing his face vigorously, Wei Ran finally looked at the metal notebook on the table and the lines of text written by the metal feather pen:

Imperial Cemetery
On January 1988, 1, Afkhan guerrilla Abdul was killed in an ambush, Soviet pilot Ivan Rodkin and helicopter gunner Kanzat Pliyev were also killed in an ambush. Mechanic Ruslan Petrov and military doctor Kirill Polyakov were captured.

On the 15th, military doctor Kirill Polyakov delivered twin boys for female guerrilla fighter Ayana.

On the 16th, the captured Ruslan Petrov fell into a minefield and died while trying to save the son of guerrilla fighter Ayana.

On the 17th, guerrilla fighter Habibullah was killed after stepping on a landmine, and guerrilla fighter Murtaza was injured.

On the 18th, in order to protect the children, guerrillas Mahbub, Hakim and Ayana took the initiative to attract the fire of Soviet fighter planes and were killed one after another. The captive Kirill broke his bones while trying to avoid falling rocks.

On the night of the 18th, after negotiation, Kirill and the surviving war orphans Murtaza, Soraya, and Joya returned to the rest point with Ayana's son to recuperate.

During the period of recovery, Murtaza and others named the twins Habibullah and Hakim.

On April 1988, 4, Kirill decided to take Murtaza and other war orphans to Kabul to seek help from friends to leave Afkhan and go to France.

On the night of the 15th, with the help of Marcelo, a trauma doctor from the Red Cross Kabul Office, they secretly left Afkhan with the war orphans on a transfer vehicle. During the journey, Murtaza jumped out of the vehicle and disappeared.

At the end of May of the same year, after many twists and turns, Kirill and others successfully arrived in Italy and hid in Marcelo's clinic. Later, with the help of Marcelo, they successively obtained Italian citizenship in 5, and went to Montpellier, France to look for Hakim's girlfriend Vida Said, but failed.

After the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991, Kirill went to Moscow to secretly meet his adoptive father and girlfriend, and then took his adoptive father and his family to settle in Italy, adopting war orphans such as Soraya.

In the winter of 1992, Kirill went to Afghanistan with Marcelo as a Red Cross medical volunteer to provide medical relief services.

On the night of April 1988, 4, the war orphan Murtaza jumped out of a car and escaped to Kandahar alone. After two years of wandering and begging, he joined the student army and participated in the civil war.

In the winter of 1993, Murtaza was captured in battle and was rescued by Kirill by chance.

In January 1994, Kirill, Marcelo and Murtaza left Afhan and returned to Italy.

In 1997, Murtaza married Soraya and they had a son and a daughter named Mahbub and Ayana.

In 1999, Kirill accidentally learned that his good friend Ruslan's widow and daughter had immigrated to the United States. Murtaza took Ruslan's belongings to the United States and secretly delivered them to their residence on his birthday.

In the winter of 2001, Murtaza bid farewell to his wife and children and returned to Afhan alone to join the war.

In the spring of 2004, Murtaza was killed in a bombing by the US military.

As Wei Ran sighed with regret and relief, the metal notebook wrote down brief information about two seemingly unrelated people who were the spiritual pillars of some people:
Afghan refugee Vida Sayyid was killed in a Soviet helicopter rocket attack while fleeing Afghan with his family in 1980.

Ninel Polyakov, a Soviet military doctor, was captured in a helicopter crash in the spring of 1980 and died the next day from his injuries.

Having written here, the metal feather pen started a new line and wrote down a string of addresses in La Spezia, Italy, which was a clinic - Polyakov Private Clinic.

"call--"

Wei Ran let out a long sigh. Fortunately, someone finally survived this time.

At the same time, the metal feather pen started a new line and wrote what Kirill once said: War is a pile of mud made up of tragedies and corpses mixed together.

No matter how hard we who are wrapped in the mud struggle, war is still war and mud is still mud.

Amid the rustling sound of pages turning, a red vortex appeared on the back of the pale yellow paper, and the metal feather pen quickly wrote the last line of words: It is difficult to build friendship, but it is easy to destroy it. All it takes is a war.

This is what Mahbub said at the beginning.
Wei Ran shook his head weakly. After trying to take the things out of the red vortex without success, he simply put away the metal notebook, staggered to his feet and walked to the middle of the studio, and tried again to take the things out.

However, when he saw this "reward", he couldn't help but be stunned. This was the KPV heavy machine gun with a mountain anti-aircraft tripod that was used to ambush Soviet helicopters!
Next to this heavy machine gun is a 50-liter iron oil drum.

This oil barrel not only contained a belt of more than 14.5 mm machine gun bullets, but also several large and small film tubes and a miniature camera!
After a moment's silence, Wei Ran carefully picked up the films one by one, and then put away the anti-aircraft heavy machine gun that symbolized the beginning and the end.

But inevitably, he thought of the last line of defense on the small island on Lake Ladoga.

If the anti-aircraft militiamen who resisted the invaders were alive, would they sympathize with the invaded Afkhan or
Kirill at least has a clear conscience, right? Maybe
Sitting back in the chair beside the table, Wei Ran lit a cigarette and repeatedly thought about these extremely pessimistic questions that were destined to have no answers.

When a cigarette burned out, he finally took out the guqin Yaoguang, closed his eyes and played the Guangling San, the first piece of music he learned, to calm his mood that was filled with destructive desires.

Until the end of the song, Wei Ran let out a long sigh again, put away the guqin and its case, absent-mindedly looked at the contents written on the note on the table, then lit it and threw it into the ashtray. After it was completely burned out, he crushed it completely with a cigarette butt.

This investigation was to help Ninel. Even though he had ten thousand reasons to want to meet the survivors, he just kept it in his heart and left everything to Ninel and let him do it for him.

After adjusting his mood, he stood up and walked out of the basement of the library, and went to the house next door in the falling heavy snow.

In any case, he would never go to that cemetery again.