Burning Moscow

48. A Sumptuous Lunch

There is a very flat road leading to the shelter of the 16th Army Command Post. The wind blows the snow on the trail and whispers in the birch forest where the leaves have fallen.

The biting cold wind made me shiver, and my whole person was completely awake. Thinking back to the strange dream just now, I was still very confused: Why did I have such a dream? It’s so real, it’s as real as I have experienced it myself.

Unknowingly, I came to the door of a mud house-style shelter. Seeing two soldiers with submachine guns walking back and forth at the door, I guess this should be the headquarters of Lieutenant General Rokosovsky. I asked one of the fighters: “Is Comrade Commander of the Group Army?”

The sentry stopped, straightened up, saluted me, and replied, “Comrade Commander, hello! Comrade General is inside. They are drinking tea! Please come in!”

I looked down at the soldier’s army coat I was wearing. I couldn’t see my real rank at all. How did this soldier know that I was an officer? So he asked him somewhat surprised: “How do you know that I am a commander, not an ordinary soldier?”

“I know this very well, Comrade Commander.” The soldier replied simply, “I have seen you before. When you and Comrade Zhukov came to the group army last week, I saw you once.”

“Your memory is so good, you can still remember me after so long.” I couldn’t help boasting about his good memory.

“Of course I remember. As long as you are a beautiful female commander with such a high rank, no one will forget it once I have seen it.” His few flattery words made me feel a little airy.

“Thank you for your compliment!” I said a word of thanks to the sentry, and then followed the steps down to the shelter. I lifted the curtain separating the command room from the outside. Under the light of the oil lamp, I saw several commanders sitting next to a wooden table. I immediately recognized Rokosovs who I wanted to see inside. General Ji, I don’t know the rest. According to the collar, one of them is a major general, and the rest are school-level officers, probably staff officers of the command.

I took a step forward, saluted Rokosovsky, and then reported in a loud voice: “Comrade General, Lieutenant Colonel Oshanina, Special Agent for the Front, is here to report to you. I am waiting for your order.”

“Welcome to you, Lieutenant Colonel Oshanina.” Rokosovs got up and warmly welcomed me. Instead of returning the gift or shaking hands, he gave me a hug and said, “At the same time, congratulations. Achieve a higher level of military rank.”

Then, the commanders who were sitting also stood up and shook hands with me to express welcome and congratulations.

After chatting with everyone, Rokosovsky greeted me to sit down. The major general moved aside to make room for me. I thanked him and sat down. Rokosovsky picked up the teapot on the table, filled an empty glass cup with tea, then put the cup into the sterling silver cup holder, then handed it to me, and said, “Please Drink tea.”

I just fell asleep, and I was terribly thirsty. I took the teacup, thanked me first, then brought the teacup to my mouth and took a sip. The tea was steaming hot and too sweet. Obviously the general put too much sugar in the teacup.

“Comrade Oshanina, you are here at the right time, and we are going to have lunch. I wonder if you are interested in eating with us?” the general asked me politely.

“It is an honor for me to have dinner with you.” Rokosovsky is the future marshal of the Soviet Union. Maintaining a harmonious relationship with him is good for me and no harm. I have just arrived here. I am unfamiliar with the land. If I don’t eat with them, I really can’t find a place to eat. What’s more, what these senior commanders eat is definitely not too bad. I eat with them, and I can improve the food, so I very readily expressed my approval.

A series of slow footsteps sounded outside the curtain. I first smelled the fragrance of roasted potatoes, and then saw a few soldiers walk in with a tray full of cutlery. They put the contents on the tray one by one behind the table. He retired.

There are many varieties of lunch on the table, including baked potatoes wrapped in foil, goulash with potatoes, mashed potatoes, mutton soup, pickled cucumbers, pickled tomatoes, pickled mushrooms, corn salad, tomato salad, cucumber salad, carrot salad, and diced sausage. Salad, banana fruit salad, and a few plates of butter and shredded cheese. Seeing such a rich lunch in front of me, I couldn’t help drooling secretly, and felt that Rokosovsky could live a life. In the days when I mixed with Zhukov, every day was either bread or rusks, and occasionally there was a red cabbage soup to improve food. There was absolutely no meat. I had known that life here is so good, I had already applied for transfer.

“What would you like to eat?” Rokosovsky asked me very gentlemanly.

“Roast potatoes.” I answered almost without hesitation, you know, after several years in Moscow, my eating habits have begun to be russed, and it has become like eating roasted sweet potatoes in the winter in China.

Rokosovsky took a large potato wrapped in tin foil and placed it on an empty plate. He skillfully cut it in half with a dining knife. Then he mashed the potato into a puree with a small spoon and added it. Add butter and shredded cheese and continue to stir. After stirring, I pointed to several salads on the table and asked me: “What kind of salad do I need to add?”

I pointed to the corn salad, tomato salad and cucumber salad and said, “I want these three.”

He spooned a few spoonfuls of the salad I wanted into the potatoes, then stirred it again before handing it to me. Then he greeted everyone again: “Comrades, you are welcome, let’s all start to eat. From morning to now, everyone has not eaten. It is estimated that the chest is hungry and the back is hungry.”

Hearing this, everyone burst into laughter, and then stopped politely, pulled their favorite food in front of them, and started to eat. Because of the war at any time, no alcoholic beverages could be found on the table, and everyone ate and drank tea.

“How does the baked potato taste?” Rokosovsky skewered the potato wedges in the mutton soup and asked me as he ate it.

“Very good, it tastes great.” I quickly swallowed a mouthful of sweet and delicious baked potatoes, and happily replied, “If only I could eat such delicious potatoes often.”

“Hehe,” the general said with a smile, “I will treat you every day when the German devils are killed.”

I was eating this long-lost delicious baked potato, and I couldn’t help but think back to the good stuff that later generations had eaten in Moscow. The barbecue in Vuitton Khan, although the bamboo sticks are smashed, tastes really good; the Russian buffet restaurant near Mayakovsky Square has good taste and variety, and the price is cheap. , Every time friends from China want to taste the authentic Russian flavor, I will take them there to have a good time.

“Lida.” The general’s words interrupted my reverie. I quickly put down the fork in my hand and looked up at him. Before I could speak, he went on to say: “I heard that you were in Pologno. Behaving, the counterattack you organized actually repelled the Germans by three to six kilometers and regained all the lost positions. It’s really not easy!” He gave me a thumbs up, and then lifted the table. Teacup, said: “Now you are at war, you can’t drink, I will toast you with tea instead of wine. Cheers!”

Hearing this, I quickly picked up the tea cup on the table and touched the cup in his hand lightly. Seeing the general started, the other people were not far behind, and followed his example, clinking glasses with me with tea instead of wine. I thought to myself, fortunately, it was not drinking, otherwise, I would not be drunk lying on the battlefield, but drunk lying command.

After everyone gave me the tea, the general said: “You may not know it. Soon after you left, the Supreme Command appointed a new commander for the Fifth Army. The German army once again launched a campaign against Polokino in the morning. A fierce offensive According to the latest intelligence, many positions have been reoccupied by the Germans. Our troops have suffered heavy casualties, and the remaining troops are retreating.”

Hearing what he said, I couldn’t help being surprised. In just over a day, the situation was so bad. Fortunately, Zhukov recalled me to the Front Army Headquarters. If I continue to stay in the Fifth Army to command the battle, in addition to the possibility of being injured, captured, or killed, I may even have to bear the responsibility of being forced to retreat.

Suddenly there was a rumble of cannons in the distance, and a telephone in the command headquarters rang along with it. The lieutenant colonel closest to the phone picked up the microphone and listened for a while, then covered the microphone and said to the general: “Comrade Commander, the call is from General Panfilov. The German devil is under the cover of the tank, His line of defense launched an offense.”

“Understood, order him to stand firm, I will go to him immediately.”

“Yes,” the lieutenant colonel agreed, then let go, and said loudly to General Panfilov on the other end of the telephone line: “The commander has an order to block the enemy resolutely, and he is not allowed to retreat. I will come to you soon.”

Rokosovs got up and said to everyone while tying his belts: “Comrades, go and work on your own work. I will go and see in Panfilov’s teacher.” Then he said to me, “Li Da, you come with me.”

“Yes.” I quickly put down the half-eaten baked potatoes, stood up and answered him. I scolded these **** German devils in my heart, and didn’t even let us finish the meal. If there is a chance in the future, I will organize the troops to carry out night attacks every day, so that you can’t even sleep at ease.