War Photographer's Notebook

Chapter 322 The Concert on the Battlefield

Leaving the slightly dry fortress, Captain Valentin took Wei Ran to visit his position.

Speaking of it, this is not a real company, or a complete company. After the round of shelling just now, there are only less than 70 people in the entire company who still have combat effectiveness, but they are responsible for trenches with a length of more than 150 meters. .

These more than [-] people are more like a miniature of the Soviet Union. There are urbanites from Moscow, farmers from Ukraine or the Belarusian countryside, and herdsmen from the later generations of Stan. There are even two Jews and one from the Soviet Union. Sochrai skiers.

In this company with a large population but a poor organizational structure, everyone is extraordinarily enthusiastic. They even intentionally or unintentionally make themselves look as clean as possible, and then appear in front of Wei Ran intentionally or unintentionally, looking expectantly. Looking at Wei Ran's camera hanging around his neck.

And Wei Ran, like a real reporter, tried his best to chat with everyone about their past, or take group photos of them.

However, he only has two film rolls in total, and one of the film rolls has taken a few photos before coming here, so he is destined to be unable to take a single photo for everyone. Daniela who had seen left a few negatives.

Moreover, in order to avoid being reimbursed by the opposite Germany with a shell for all the soldiers, neither he nor Company Commander Valentin could organize everyone together to take a group photo.

However, this little regret did not last long, and was resolved by a young soldier from Moscow.This young soldier, who was at most 24 or [-] years old, actually sent Wei Ran five or six unused film rolls!
"Where did you get it?"

Wei Ran asked in surprise, the soldier named Tonya had just accepted his interview not long ago, he was a fair-looking young man, but the soldiers around him unanimously called him artist.

As for the reason, it is natural that Tonya not only sings well, but also can play many kinds of musical instruments, even learned ballet, and can use a piece of charcoal to draw sketches for the comrades around him on the table.

"I brought it when I went to war"

Tonya explained with a sunny smile on his face, "At that time, I also brought a camera, which was the same brand as yours, but two months ago, after that camera helped me block a bullet It's already broken, and only these films are left. Now that you don't have enough film, use it first."

"Do you want to lend me my camera?" Wei Ran said as he was about to take off the camera hanging around his neck and hand it to the other party.

"no, I'm fine"

Tonya quickly waved his hand, "I just want to take pictures of my comrades in arms, so I'll let you take pictures, you must be better than me."

"Then I'm welcome"

Wei Ran looked at the red window on the camera, looked up and said, "Tonya, let me take a picture for you first!"

"Please wait!"

Tonya looked around and replied, "I need to ask Vinia to shave me first, and I also need to borrow a clean coat to match my bravery medal."

"It's okay, I'll wait for you over there." Wei Ran pointed to a few soldiers who were beating and beating not far away.

"I'll be back soon!" Tonya ran down the muddy trench before he could finish his sentence.

Putting away the film presented by the other party, Wei Ran walked to the soldiers not far away. These soldiers were making campfires with milk cans and tin oil drums. When the flames were lit, some soldiers were sitting on the logs next to the stove, patiently baking the stinky foot wraps and the wrinkled and pale feet soaked in mud.

On the side of these biochemical weapons, there is an iron pot on the simple bonfire stove, and potatoes the size of eggs are being boiled in it.

A little further away, several soldiers were washing pairs of blood-stained German military boots in a large basin transformed from an oil barrel.

Seeing Wei Ran approaching, these soldiers all saluted in unison, some wanted to say something but didn't know how to say it, and some secretly adjusted their damp military uniforms.Wei Ran shook his head secretly, knowing that he was being praised too highly by Valentin.

"What are you doing?"

Wei Ran sat beside a stove without a word, also untied his leggings, took off his damp boots, took off the soaked foot wrap, followed their example, and went to the stove Slowly baked on the side.

"Baked foot wrap" A young soldier dryly answered Wei Ran's nonsense question with an obvious answer.

"That. You don't have to do that"

Wei Ran grinned, "I am a soldier just like you, and I will take up a gun to fight with you when necessary, of course, of course, I will take a photo of each of you later, Everyone in this company, I promise."

"Really?"

The soldier who had just answered Wei Ran's question asked in surprise, "Comrade reporter, can you help me send the photos back home? My home is in Tula City."

"And mine!"

A man who looked 50 years old came over and said, "Comrade reporter, help me to send the photos home too! I haven't received a letter from home for more than half a year, I want my son and wife to know I'm still alive, my home is in Stalingrad"

"Where is your home? Stalingrad?!"

Wei Ran frowned. In September 1942, apart from Rzhev devouring soldiers on both sides like a meat grinder, Stalingrad at this time was also a bottomless grindstone of flesh and blood!
"Yes! Stalingrad!"

The middle-aged man sighed, and said in a desperate tone, "I know Stalingrad is also at war, but I believe they must still be alive!"

"They must still be alive." Wei Ran said with certainty, "They must still be alive."

"I guess they must be alive too"

The middle-aged man took out a sealed vodka glass bottle from his bag, pointed to the black and white group photo inside and said, "Look, this is my wife Vitasha, and that young man is our son Ivan, He went to the Stalingrad Tractor Factory as an apprentice half a year ago. The vodka in this wine bottle was bought for me with the first salary he earned. Although we drank the wine, I will definitely buy this bottle. Will take it back and refill the vodka."

Wei Ran opened his mouth, and said in a more positive tone, "After the war is over, we must let this young man spend a month's salary to buy enough vodka, and treat us all to a drink!"

"No problem! Of course no problem!"

The middle-aged soldier wrapped the wine bottle containing a group photo of the family with a sleeve that seemed to be pulled from a German, put it back in his pocket, and said generously, "You must visit my house when the time comes. My son spent half a year's salary to treat you to drink vodka, which is as unlimited as drinking water!"

"If I can have a sip of vodka now, I can work for a whole year to pay off my debts."

A soldier who was cleaning the German boots with a big brush joked, "Of course, that job can no longer be like this, cleaning the boots from the dead Germans. I doubt that the Germans washed their feet with horse urine." Yes, my nose is almost beriberi."

"It's safer to wash your boots than to take them off in battle"

Another soldier who Wei Ran hadn't had time to ask for his name said, "Is there any boots that have been cleaned? Choose a pair of suitable size for our reporter comrades. I think everyone will agree."

"As long as he can take a picture of me later and send it home when he has a chance, even if I go to the trenches and ask the Germans to borrow a pair right now!"

Amidst the laughter and ridicule of the crowd, Wei Ran received his first gift here, a pair of boots equipped by the German motorized troops in World War II, dumbfounded.

Before he could dry the wet boots, Tonya, who had the title of "Artist", came over wearing a clean overcoat, with his only medal pinned to his chest.

Putting the boots aside, Wei Ran quickly picked up the camera and took a photo of Tonya with his bare feet, and then patiently waited for the other soldiers to put on the clean coat and put on their own coat. The medals were almost lined up in front of the camera.

At the same time, Tonya also took the plastic leather notebook that Wei Ran handed him, and carefully recorded the address of everyone who took photos.

Just waiting for the dozen or so people to be photographed, the middle-aged soldier whose family is in Stalingrad said, "Artist, sing us a song!"

"Yes! Sing a song!" The surrounding soldiers urged.

"How about singing Holy War?" Tonya asked, clearing his throat.

"This shitty war has been torturing us for months, just stop singing about it."

A young soldier muttered under his breath, then suggested, "Artist, sing about a weaving girl, or any other girl."

"Yes! Sing a song about the weaving girl!" The others agreed unanimously.

"Then weaving girl!" Tonya cleared his throat again, stepped forward to stand on a wooden box, and began his singing.

Gradually, all the busy soldiers around temporarily stopped their work and looked over. Some even tapped the things they could see with the things they could find in their hands and beat the time together.

Gradually, more and more soldiers sang along, and the singing became louder and louder, even covering the provocations and obscenities from the loudspeakers on the opposite side of the German army.

Gradually, the loudspeakers in the opposite German camp also stopped. This wet and bloody camp seemed to have become the exclusive stage for Tonya's personal concert.

(End of this chapter)