War Photographer's Notebook

Chapter 2 Relics of a War Reporter
After picking up the food in the lunch box in twos and twos, Wei Ran looked at the electronic watch on the wall. It was almost nine o'clock in the evening, so he simply packed up the negatives and put them back in the wooden box, closed the shutter door and prepared to go to the second floor to rest .

But when he saw the Watts bun parked at the door, he suddenly remembered the cheating gift the professor gave him and his guess about the identity of the owner of the box and these negatives.

There might be clues in that box.
Wei Ran hesitated for a moment, opened the shutter door again, and carried the rusty iron box from the trunk of the van into the studio.

This box is about the size of a microwave oven, and on one side, the words "Pravda" are faintly left.But the lid of the box and its surroundings were completely rusted, and even the padlock, which was only the size of a bottle cap, was covered with green rust.

Such a tattered gift, even if it was given by the professor, Wei Ran couldn't afford to cherish it at all, so he just found a hammer and a screwdriver and started violently dismantling it.

First use a hammer to smash the padlock, and then pry along the gap between the lid and the box body. Without much effort, the almost rusted iron box was easily opened.

“There are quite a lot of things”

Wei Ran muttered, put on his gloves carefully, and began to take things out of the box carefully.He wasn't worried about damaging the contents of the box, he was just afraid of being cut by the rusty box and getting tetanus.

The first ones to be taken out were a few suits and ties with a strong musty smell, and two pairs of old leather shoes that were anti-alkali.These things were of no value at all, and Wei Ran carried them directly and threw them into the trash can against the wall.

Continue to scroll down, and this time I took out a set of Soviet military uniforms from World War II, but the military uniforms wrapped in Soviet cloaks did not have any rank collar badges or the like.

At any rate, this military uniform is a complete set. Maybe Professor Alexei can help sell it, so he simply put it aside and continued to take things out of the box.

The expected antique camera did not exist at all, and after taking out several famous books wrapped in newspapers from the box, the only thing left in the box was an old-fashioned cowhide briefcase carefully wrapped in a woolen coat.

After rummaging through the pockets of the woolen coat to make sure there was nothing there, Wei Ran opened the slightly moldy black briefcase.

"Hit the jackpot!"

The moment Wei Ran opened the zipper, his eyes lit up, and he reached out from his bag to take out a small pistol in a cowhide holster.

Skillfully opening the holster and taking out the pistol, Wei Ran recognized the model of the pistol at a glance. It was a PPK pistol produced in Germany during World War II.

But this pistol solidified with thick gun oil is far more exquisite than what Wei Ran has seen, and not only the clear eagle emblem steel seal on the sleeve and the rear of the barrel, even the red wooden grip on both sides The national emblem of the Soviet Union and the hammer and sickle that have long been abandoned by this country are engraved respectively.

Carefully removing the empty magazine, Wei Ran pulled the slide, not to mention not a single bullet in the chamber, and it was even completely filled to death with dried up butter.

Subconsciously looking back at the shutter door that had been locked by himself, Wei Ran heaved a sigh of relief. This small pistol must not be seen by the professor, otherwise he would definitely confiscate it.

After all, in Russia, even though AK47 can be bought easily, pistols are very strict.Once he, an international student, is found by the police to have a pistol on his body, it is probably the lightest result to be repatriated.

"I have a gun now!"

Wei Ran excitedly held up the small pistol and pointed it around, and when he was satisfied, he put the pistol and two empty magazines back into the holster and put them in his trouser pocket.

Continuing to flip through the black briefcase, all that was left inside was a brown leather notebook wrapped in layers of old newspapers and a red plastic-skinned ID.

"Reporter of Pravda: Boris Nikolaevich Polevoy?" Wei Ran looked at the press card in his hand, and always felt that this long-standing name seemed very familiar.

"Wowo. Damn it!"

Wei Ran looked at the character introduction searched on the phone screen, and finally remembered who this person was after exclaiming!

During the Great Patriotic War of the Soviet Union, as an army reporter for Pravda, this Polevoy participated in many battles including the Defense of Moscow and the Battle of Stalingrad, and even entered the Soviet Union in 1945. Berlin, and even reported the whole process of the Nuremberg trial after the war!
Perhaps most Chinese people don't know about these legendary experiences, but such masterpieces as "Traveling Thirty Thousand Miles in China" and "Real People" (Footless Pilot) are definitely well-known in China, and their authors are all the same A war correspondent who received the Order of Lenin and the Gold Medal, and was even promoted to colonel after the war!
When he came back to his senses, Wei Ran threw the phone directly on the table, and Sa Yazi rushed to the trash can by the wall, and carefully picked up the clothes and shoes that he had just discarded!
If these clothes belonged to the legendary reporter, they would definitely sell for a lot of money, and even be eligible to be sent to a museum!
After carefully checking the clothes that were taken out of the trash can, fortunately there were no stains.Wei Ran, who had settled down, was relieved, and then picked up the leather notebook that he had just thrown aside.

This cowhide notebook is the same as those negative photo albums just now, all of which are A4 paper size and five or six centimeters thick. After he untied the cowhide rope, there was actually a silver-white feather-shaped bookmark fixed on the widened back cover.

Weighing the weight of this bookmark, the heavy feel proves that this thing is definitely some kind of precious metal.

Preciously putting it aside, Wei Ran's attitude became much more correct, and he carefully opened the slightly moldy cover.A faint musty smell hits the face. On the first page of this notebook, there is a photo of a man in the Soviet military uniform of World War II.

But under this business card-sized photo, there is a completely unfamiliar name written in two lines of clear pen writing:

war photographer

Alexander Arkadyevich Trotsky

Who is this person?Wei Ran picked up the phone again, but after some searching, there was no clue about the name at all.

With doubts, he picked up the cowhide notebook again and turned it to the second page. On this page, there was also a black and white photo the size of a cigarette pack. The main character in the photo was a Ural motorcycle. Next to the photo, There is also this palm-sized paper bag, and there are still a few negatives that have been glued together.

On the rest of the page, there are still some neat Russian writings, but unfortunately, this cowhide book seems to have been invaded by moisture, and most of these writings have been blurred.

Patiently turning to the third page, there was still a black and white photo, a paper bag full of negatives, and a page full of blurred text, but the protagonist in the photo turned into a GAZ car.

Continue to scroll down, the protagonist in the photo on the fourth page is replaced by a Mosin Nagant rifle.At the same time, the text on this page is also very clear and concise, with only one sentence: "I killed people who shouldn't be killed, but the war left me with no choice."

"Who is a serious photographer who writes a diary?" Wei Ran muttered to himself, and turned to the fifth page of his notes.

In the photo on this page, it turned out to be a Li-2 aircraft, and the writing around it was once again blurred.

Wei Ran raised his eyebrows. It was only five pages, and he had already photographed everything from motorcycles to cars, to rifles, and finally even the plane. The photographer who co-authored this name was dedicated to photographing war equipment. ?

Aroused by Wei Ran's curiosity, he continued to flip through the pages, but in the black-and-white photo on the sixth page, there was only a broken watch, and there were no letters written on the pale yellow paper.

Continue to turn back, from the seventh page to the end, the following notes are all blank.

Gently close the notebook, and put the bookmark back in its original place by the way.Wei Ran thought for a moment, then took out his mobile phone and called Professor Alexey again.

"Who are you talking about? Polevoy? War correspondent Boris Nikolaevich Polevoy?"

After listening to Wei Ran's description, Professor Alexey stepped on the brakes and started to turn around, "I'll go back now! This time we're rich!"

Hearing the busy tone coming from the phone, Wei Ran curled his lips. He had already decided that when this old guy came back, he had to calculate the overtime pay carefully before letting him in!

　Solemnly declare:
　　The author is not Jingsu, let alone a German stick.

　　If I could, I'd like my story to start and finish without leaving that lovely 960 million square kilometers.

　　The following stories are just to commemorate some evocative but little-known little people in the anti-French silk suction war, borrow their stories, borrow their heroes, and remember our own heroes.

　　Above
　　
　
(End of this chapter)