Nizhny Uginsk, this originally quiet and peaceful city, has now turned into ruins. The destructive weapons invented by humans have reduced countless buildings to a state of rubble.
The Soviet red flag that once fluttered here has been lowered. Countless Soviet soldiers lined up with their hands raised and walked towards the prisoner of war camps set up everywhere. Next to them were parked infantry fighting vehicles and fully armed Russian escorts.[
] and soldiers of the Chinese National Defense Force.
The hot sunshine shines on the dilapidated wall. In front of the wall is a table. Behind the table sits a Russian guard captain wearing a black military uniform. Standing next to him are more than a dozen people.
Guard soldier holding Garand rifle.
Countless Soviet prisoners took turns passing by this table, filling in their names, positions, military ranks and fingerprints. Many soldiers held up the leaflets in their hands as they passed by, and some even
He took out the cross from his neck and showed his faith to the surrounding soldiers who were watching him eagerly.
Most of the prisoners had a little hesitation and nervousness on their faces, while the faces of the Russian guards around them were slightly curious, with a smile on their faces. Previously, these prisoners spoke the same language and had the same expression.
Traditional people fight each other for different beliefs, but at this time they can be together and look at each other curiously.
"Say your name, age, rank, and hand over your documents," this is what the guard officer repeated countless times.
"Listen up, you damn white dogs. I am the political commissar of the 267th Regiment of the Soviet Red Army." When these words came out, everyone was shocked. Countless prisoners looked at this brave political commissar in surprise.
.
"Yes." The officer looked up in surprise and looked at the man who dared to speak rudely. A ragged military uniform was draped over his body, and his face was swollen after being beaten, and he tried his best to hold his head high.
"Your job in the military"
Looking at the guard officer in front of him, a look of hatred and contempt appeared on the political commissar's face, "My mission is to kill all you damn tsarist bastards."
Time seemed to have stopped, the air was filled with tension, and the eyes of everyone around him turned to this daring Soviet political commissar.
The guard captain raised the corners of his mouth slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but then he closed his mouth.
"Bang" followed by a clear gunshot, the Soviet political commissar who had been willing to die just now fell heavily to the ground. There was a finger-sized bullet hole on his forehead, but there was a bullet hole on the back of his head.
A big hole as big as a bowl.
"Drag him down, next one" put away the m1911 pistol that was still smoking, the guard officer sat down as if nothing had happened and shouted loudly.
Soon, normal order was restored when two soldiers dragged away the bodies on the ground.
Not far away, Liu Yecheng and Lu Gang looked at the scene that had just happened and felt a little helpless. However, even Lu Gang, the usually soft-hearted chief of staff, did not say much. He just sighed silently.
There is nothing we can do about this. The Ministry of National Defense has just received a telegram, which orders the Soviet army to shoot at least half of its political commissars after they surrender, because they have caused too much damage to the troops.
There was another burst of gunfire and slogans of "Long Live Soviet Russia" coming from the side. This was the troops executing the order issued by the Ministry of Defense.
"Old man, have we gone too far this time? Killing half of the people is probably too much," Lu Gang hesitated for a while and couldn't help but ask.
"There is no other way. The orders from superiors must be carried out. If we do not kill some of them, our infiltration and ideological re-education of Soviet prisoners will definitely be frustrated. You must know that these political commissars are best at doing this.
It's over." Although Liu Yecheng had studied in a Soviet military academy, he would not be soft at all when it was time to take action. This was also for the sake of peace after the war.
In a winding mountainous area, a team of dozens of people was marching. The leader was wearing a Type 35 steel helmet and dark green combat uniform, with three leather magazines slung on his chest.
, there are three identical magazines on the belt on the back, and an M1911 Browning pistol is pinned to the belt. There are also two Type 40 grenades in the front breast pocket, and a green soldier's military grenade is slung behind the buttocks.
He was carrying a kettle, a simple backpack, a gas mask and a short engineer shovel on his back, waterproof leather shoes on his feet, and a powerful Somi submachine gun in his rolled-up cuffs. The epaulettes on his clothes showed that he was an army sergeant.
The marks left on his helmet and clothes showed that he had traveled a long way here.
He was followed by dozens of soldiers, decorated similarly to the sergeant in front of him. Two of them carried submachine guns like him, and the rest either carried Type 56 rifles or carried machine guns. The riflemen each carried four grenades and military-style grenades.
Bayonet, another man who only carried a pistol was covered with machine gun bullets like the soldier carrying the machine gun, but he also carried an extra box of ammunition on his shoulders. These men walked steadily and rolled up their cuffs to reveal their strong wrists.
The thin summer combat uniforms cannot hide their strong physiques from people's attention at all.
This is a capable team. They are currently marching on a winding and rugged mountain road, surrounded by steep cliffs. You must be very careful when marching on such mountainous terrain. Any behavior that makes too much noise will be punished by police.
forbidden.
The sky gradually darkened, and the leading sergeant's pace became slower and slower. He kept taking out a map and compass from his arms to confirm his position.
Suddenly, a faint light flashed next to a large rock in the distance.
The sergeant who was walking at the front immediately squatted down, raised his fist with his left hand, and all the soldiers behind him immediately stopped, took cover, and pointed their weapons forward.
I saw the light shining three long and two short in mid-air and then drawing two circles. After seeing the signal on the opposite side, the sergeant in charge also took out a flashlight and turned it on and sent out the same signal.
After a while, the signal from the other side disappeared, and the sergeant hurried over with his people. When the sergeant and the others came to the big stone, six men armed with old Russian rifles walked out from behind the stone. The leading man
He has typical Caucasian features, with gray-brown hair, deep-set eyes and a thick beard.
After seeing the sergeant, he laughed, opened his arms and hugged the sergeant, and said loudly: "Welcome, Chinese soldiers from the far east, I am Abdullah, the leader of the Chechen resistance army."