red moscow

Chapter 3123

The 2nd Battalion was stationed in the village east of the brigade headquarters. After receiving the order, Karsokov immediately called the 2nd Battalion command post. After the phone rang a few times, it was finally answered. He spoke impatiently, his tone tinged with urgency: "This is Chief of Staff Karsokov. I want your battalion commander to answer the phone."

A strange voice came through the receiver, slightly nervous but respectful: "Hello, Chief of Staff! I'm sorry, Battalion Commander, I can't answer your call right now. I'm Captain Olga, the Third Company Commander. What can I do for you? I can pass on your message."

Karsokov frowned and said with dissatisfaction, "Why? Why can't he answer my call?"

Olga hesitated for a moment on the other end of the phone, then lowered her voice: "He... he's drunk. Because it's New Year's Eve tonight, the battalion commander somehow got hold of a bottle of rum and invited us company commanders to drink at the battalion headquarters. He can't hold his liquor, and after just two drinks, he was drunk. He's currently resting on his cot, and we can't wake him up no matter what we do."

Upon learning that Alexei was drunk, Karsokov felt a surge of anger and asked unhappily, "He's drunk?! Who's in charge of things in the battalion now? Are there any other commanders present?"

“Comrade Chief of Staff, I think it should be me,” Olga replied, her voice tinged with a hint of helplessness. “So far, I’m the only one left among the company-level and above commanders of the Second Battalion who is still conscious. The others are also a bit dizzy, but they can still barely carry out their missions.”

Karsokov took a deep breath, suppressed his emotions, and continued to ask, "Why are you constantly firing signal flares into the sky? Are you under enemy attack? I've been seeing signal flares going up in the sky, and I thought something terrible had happened."

"No, Chief of Staff, there is no enemy activity here." After saying this, Olga hesitated for a moment, but finally chose to tell the truth: "It was the comrades in the battalion headquarters who got drunk, found a signal gun, and fired a few signal flares into the air to celebrate the arrival of the New Year in 1942! Everyone got carried away and didn't think much about the consequences."

Upon hearing this, Karsokov flew into a rage and said angrily, "Nonsense! Utter nonsense! The enemy is just a few kilometers away from us. What if your reckless firing of signal flares causes other units to misunderstand and think the enemy is attacking, resulting in unnecessary panic? Stop this immediately and ensure everyone remains on alert. Captain Olga, you will now act as battalion commander and handle the aftermath."

After hanging up the phone, Karsokov turned to face Sokov, whose face was ashen, and reported somewhat nervously, "Comrade Brigade Commander, everything has been clarified—it was just that several commanders of the Second Battalion got drunk and became agitated, firing signal flares randomly into the sky. There was no enemy attack."

“This is utter nonsense!” Sokov sneered, tapping his fingers heavily on the table twice. He raised his cold eyes and said to Karsokov, “You immediately contact the other battalions by phone and clearly convey my order: no one is allowed to fire signal flares without authorization, so as to avoid causing wider misjudgment and panic.”

"Yes, Comrade Brigade Commander. I'll call the battalion commanders now to formally inform them of this incident." Karsokov nodded quickly, then added, "Furthermore, I think it should be emphasized that even on New Year's Day occasions, officers and soldiers must remain sober and strictly prohibit excessive drinking. Otherwise, if something goes wrong, the consequences will be unimaginable." His words stirred something in Karsokov's expression. A memory suddenly surfaced clearly—it was from his previous life. After successfully capturing a state-run farm, the 300th Infantry Division discovered a large quantity of aged liquor in the cellar. As a result, almost everyone in the division, from the commander to the ordinary soldiers, was completely drunk. Fortunately, the German "Viking Division," stationed nearby, was unaware of their predicament and failed to launch an attack. Otherwise, this infantry division would have been annihilated and forced to disband.

“You’re right, Comrade Chief of Staff.” Sokov’s voice deepened, a sharp glint in his eyes. “We must give a serious warning to all battalion commanders: drinking is permitted, but it must be in moderation. Anyone who causes trouble because of drunkenness…” His tone suddenly hardened, “I will personally send him to a military court!”

"Don't worry, Comrade Brigade Commander!" Karsokov said with certainty, his voice carrying an undeniable firmness. "I will definitely convey your orders to all battalions, so that everyone can learn from this and remain vigilant enough to prevent similar unpleasant incidents from happening again."

By the time Karsokov finished his call, Sokov's anger had largely subsided. The tense atmosphere in the room gradually eased, with only the faint sound of wind and snow outside reminding them of the harsh wartime conditions they were in. Belkin picked up a teacup from the table, first emptying the tea, then pulling out an aluminum flask from somewhere. The flask was worn, showing signs of frequent use. He skillfully unscrewed the lid, poured a little vodka into each of the three teacups, and then placed them in front of Sokov, Karsokov, and himself.

When Sokov saw Belkin place the vodka jar in front of him, he quickly waved his hand, his brow furrowed slightly, and said, "Comrade Deputy Brigade Commander, I don't want to drink. Drinking might cause me trouble." There was still a trace of his previous anger in his voice, but he was more tired.

“Have a drink, Comrade Brigade Commander,” Belkin said with a smile, his warmth trying to dispel the heavy atmosphere. “After all, we’re celebrating the upcoming year of 1942, and it wouldn’t be right not to have a drink. We’ve been through so much this year, we deserve a little relaxation.” His gaze swept over Sokov and Karsokov, as if inviting them to share this moment of tranquility.

Hearing Berkin's words, Sokov could only pick up the teacup in front of him, his fingers gently stroking the cold rim, and said hesitantly, "Comrade Deputy Brigade Commander, what toast should we make? After all, this is not an ordinary gathering." A thoughtful look appeared in his eyes, as if he was weighing how to find the right words in this time of war.

Belkin raised his teacup high and said with a smile, "May we live to see the day of victory."

“Yes, you’re right.” Sokov nodded slightly upon hearing Belkin’s toast. “Then let’s wish we live to see the day of victory. Cheers!”

(End of this chapter)