Chapter 26 How About…
The fighting was fierce.
The shelling was heavy, and it went on for a very long time. During that stretch, no one spoke. Even if they did, no one could hear them anyway; all they had to do was stay put in their own anti-shelling dugouts.
The thunder of artillery sometimes came fast, sometimes slowed, but it never stopped. Just judging from how long the bombardment lasted, it was clear that today’s battle would be a major one.
What was encouraging was that the shelling was moving farther and farther away. That meant the advance was going smoothly. If nothing unexpected happened, the Atonement Battalion should have already taken the forward positions by now and was attacking toward the enemy’s rear positions.
So the fighting would have to continue for quite some time. Taking advantage of the lull, Gao Fei hurriedly loaded all of his magazines with bullets.
The captured guns basically wouldn’t be used, but the bullets definitely had to be kept, and the magazines definitely had to be kept too. No one ever thought they had too many of these things. As long as they could carry them, they would never throw them away.
Gao Fei now had eight magazines, along with nearly six hundred loose rounds. Those bullets took up most of his load; there was barely any room left for anything else.
The captured magazines needed to be checked, and loading bullets was also fairly time-consuming work. By the time Gao Fei had sorted out his pack and stuffed it full, the battle had basically stopped.
The moment the shelling ceased, Sholokhov could not wait to say, “Let’s see what the company commander gave us. Compressed biscuits…”
Sholokhov tossed the compressed biscuits aside with a look of disgust, but immediately brightened up. “Ha, haha, canned fruit!”
At the mention of canned fruit, Glaski instantly perked up. He said impatiently, “Oh! That’s good! How many?”
“Two cans of fruit. Aha, one can of pickles, and canned beef, luncheon meat, Snickers, chocolate—not bad, not bad. Four packs of cigarettes too, and toilet paper… Aha! Vodka! Has a miracle happened today?”
Gao Fei and Samir did not feel much about canned fruit.
They had only been on the position for less than two days, so their craving for fruit was not yet strong, and canned fruit interested them even less.
But the moment he heard there was alcohol, even Gao Fei could not help swallowing.
Gao Fei was the type who could drink but did not love drinking. When friends were around, he could drink four or five hundred grams of baijiu, but he never craved alcohol on his own.
Yet today, for some reason, the moment alcohol was mentioned, Gao Fei actually felt quite excited.
Maybe the battlefield environment naturally bred a need for alcohol.
It was the same as cigarettes. Gao Fei had smoked before; he had learned to smoke back in school. But after his father found out and gave him a vicious beating, he quit. For years, he had not smoked and had not wanted to. But here, whenever he had nothing to do, he wanted to light one up.
If he had not given all his cigarettes away, Gao Fei would have lit one no matter what during the shelling just now.
Sholokhov called out excitedly, “Come on, come on, everyone over here. Let’s divide the stuff.”
The four of them gathered together again. Sholokhov had already piled the supplies sent by the company commander outside. He divided them as evenly as he could by head count. If there was not enough for each person to get one, they would share it together.
Two cans of fruit, metal cans with Russian writing on them, but from the pictures it was obvious they were both canned yellow peaches.
It seemed Russians liked canned yellow peaches too.
There was also a 750-milliliter bottle of vodka.
That was a big bottle. Though there was only one, Gao Fei felt it should be enough to drink.
As for things like compressed biscuits and canned beef, there was quite a lot of those—basically enough for each person for three days.
Gao Fei was beginning to feel a little troubled, because there was too much stuff. His pack could not hold it all.
If his own backpack could not hold it, then he could only put to use the backpack he had taken from an enemy corpse.
“We’ll eat the canned fruit now. Take the liquor with us and drink it when we reach the new position. You’ve got too much stuff. Throw away what’s useless.”
Bullets and combat gear went into one pack, with a small amount of emergency food placed inside as well—things like Snickers, dark chocolate, and compressed biscuits. Those had to be kept together with the combat gear. That was the pack for fighting, the main pack.
Food went into another pack. During a transfer, it could be hung anywhere casually. If a real fight broke out, it would simply be thrown away. In short, supplies on the front line were very precious, but what had to be thrown away had to be thrown away.
After everything was divided, only one bottle of vodka and two cans of fruit were left in Sholokhov’s care. At this point, the distribution of supplies should have been over, but Glaski licked his lips and said with a face full of expectation, “Can I have a sip first? Just one little sip, all right?”
Sholokhov hesitated. After swallowing, he said in a low voice, “Mm, no!”
“What if we run into shelling on the way and die?”
“That’s true…”
Sholokhov wavered instantly. He said to Glaski, “Take out your cup. And you two as well. Come on, let’s have a drink before we set out.”
“It’s have a drink before changing positions.”
Gao Fei was the only one sensitive to the words “set out,” but he still took out his aluminum alloy cup without hesitation.
Samir also moved closer and held out his cup.
Sholokhov opened the bottle. Frowning, he said to Samir, “Aren’t you from the Middle East? You can drink?”
Samir did not withdraw his outstretched cup. He said very naturally, “I’m Christian. A little is fine.”
Sholokhov was very regretful, because there was one more person to share the alcohol.
Sholokhov had never been as stingy as he was at this moment. He poured about fifty milliliters for Glaski, then poured for Samir, then for Gao Fei—visibly just a little more—and finally poured some into his own cup.
Russians had to give a toast when they drank. Sholokhov held the bottle in one hand and raised his cup with the other, saying without the slightest hesitation, “Brothers, to good luck.”
“Good luck!”
The others echoed him, then raised their cups in unison and downed everything in one gulp.
A third of the 750-milliliter bottle was gone. Each of the four had drunk about fifty milliliters. After that mouthful of liquor went down, Gao Fei immediately felt his head grow just slightly dizzy.
But it was only a tiny bit of dizziness, and he was excited too.
Sholokhov looked utterly shameless. He raised his cup into the air and stuck out his tongue to catch the few drops of liquor dripping down.
Before Gao Fei had time to look down on Sholokhov, he saw Glaski licking the rim of his cup.
Neither of them felt the slightest embarrassment over their behavior.
Sholokhov let out a breath, still unsatisfied.
Glaski said cautiously, “How about…”
“All right!”
Without the slightest hesitation, Sholokhov set his cup on the ground and said, “Come on, a little more.”
Gao Fei handed his cup over, and the four cups were placed together.
Sholokhov poured very carefully. It had to be said that his control was quite precise. There was basically no need to even them out; all four portions were about the same.
Glaski hesitated and said, “How about…”
“All right!”
Sholokhov set down the bottle, picked up the glass jar of pickles, and twisted it open with a crack.
“This one’s in a glass jar. It breaks easily.”
Sholokhov found himself a fine excuse. Then he directly stuck two fingers into the jar, pinched out a pickle, and casually handed it to Glaski.
Each of the four got one pickle, then raised their cups again.
Sholokhov said solemnly, “To friendship.”
“To friendship.”
For this second mouthful, Gao Fei wanted to drink more slowly, but somehow, once the cup reached his lips, he knocked it back in one go again.
“Hah…”
Breathing out alcohol, Gao Fei picked up the pickle and bit off a piece. To be honest, this pairing was pretty good. The pickle was tasty, and the liquor was good too.
Gao Fei had not finished his pickle yet, but he saw Glaski swallow his in two or three bites. Then Glaski stared at the bottle in Sholokhov’s hand, which still had a third left, and said in a low voice, “How about…”
“All right!”
Sholokhov picked up the bottle and poured. After filling all four cups, he even made sure the last drop in the bottle dripped into a cup. Then Sholokhov reached in again, using two fingers to pinch four pickles out of the jar.
There were only about a dozen pickles in the jar, and they were not all the same size. Sholokhov gave the bigger ones to the others and kept a small one for himself. Then he raised his cup again and said loudly, “Without Rex, we wouldn’t be drinking vodka. To Rex!”
“To Rex!”
This time Gao Fei did not say it, since they were toasting him.
Another one gulp.
Still unsatisfied, but this time the liquor really was gone.
Sholokhov tossed the empty bottle out of the trench, then tossed the pickle into his mouth as well. Holding the jar in one hand and the lid in the other, he screwed the pickles shut and said, “All right, we’ll eat the rest tonight.”
Samir said in a low voice, “I still have black bread. Let’s split it.”
Sholokhov hesitated for a moment, then opened the jar again and said, “Then let’s have breakfast.”
They had already eaten, but Gao Fei now felt that with pickles, he could eat a little more. Glaski also said, “Carrying cans is a burden anyway. How about…”
Sholokhov waved his hand, picked up the canned fruit, and said, “Fine, fine, eat it all. Once it’s gone, we won’t think about it anymore.”
Mm, that was very manly. Good things were not meant to be saved.
A voice sounded over the radio. Sholokhov listened, then waved his hand and said, “They’re telling us to get ready. Eat faster. Once we finish…”
Gao Fei was afraid Sholokhov would say “once we finish, we set out,” so he cut in first, “Once we finish, we move out.”