Humming the melody of “The Holy War” previously was a response to the mood evoked by Vasily, the genius musician—it’s hard to say whether it was Wang Zhong who brought the tune over or Vasily who was inspired to write it.
Without the emotional buildup, going off-key was inevitable.
It would be best to have a constant tone throughout, like speaking, with a very simple chorus, requiring emotion and artistry.
Moreover, the lyrics must suit the current situation.
The first thing that came to Wang Zhong’s mind was the “Cuckoo” by the godfather of Soviet rock, but he quickly realized that the arrangement of “Cuckoo” was very important. In many places, the emotions depended not on the lyrics and melody but the musical expression of the arrangement.
Acapella might not work well.
Wang Zhong had to find something else, and he indeed found it.
This was a rock song, but its main accompaniment was the drumbeat, which could be improvised with just one drum, better with an electric guitar, but also fine without.
Wang Zhong found a helmet nearby, put it on a head, and then began to slap the helmet with his hand.
There was the drumbeat.
The owner of the selected head had a lopsided smile on his face, as if he had just passed the imperial examinations.
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Anyway, Wang Zhong wasn’t hitting hard; the main thing was to have the gesture.
He started singing while tapping the helmet, “I swallowed the dust, I lost consciousness.” (Lyric translation by Bilibili UP Master: Ghost of Kusa, song title “Devouring Sand”)
The people who started jeering all calmed down and listened to Wang Zhong sing.
“Not a drop of water is left.
“Stukas circling nearby, the Tokarev in my hand growing heavy.”
The Imperial Guard soldiers present were all equipped with Tokarev semi-automatics; they looked down at the guns in their hands, and their immersion skyrocketed.
Wang Zhong continued to sing and tap the helmet, “Yes, I am the only one left; all my comrades have fallen in battle. The only magazine holds all my hope; I won’t be captured by you so easily, you beasts!”
This was the only part of the song where the pitch would rise, but it didn’t rise much; the emotion was enough.
The chorus followed. The original lyrics were about “Aghanistan,” which is generally translated as Afghanistan.
Wang Zhong changed it to, “Kazakhstan, Kazarlia, the hearse passes the riverbank, the bank of Mother River!”
The chorus of the song just repeated these two lines, and the accompanying drumbeat didn’t change during the chorus part, with only guitar added to vent the emotions.
There’s no way to have a guitar, and the versatile Vasily, if he were here now, might be able to come up with some music on the fly, but he’s off handling feces.
Wang Zhong could only wail the chorus, wailing it twice to make do before entering the main melody again.
“My legs are broken, voices echo in my head.”
Everyone looked down at their legs, even Olga and Ludmila looked down only to realize they couldn’t see them just by looking down.
“Saint Andrew, I don’t want to, I don’t want to die before I’m twenty. Tears welled up in my eyes, streaming nonstop.”
By this time, the girls from the laundry squad watching nearby were all wiping their tears.
But the soldiers were all stoic, most of them were veterans, who had crawled out of one hellhole after another; at this moment, they were surely thinking of their own comrades.
Some might have been contemplating a future day for themselves.
Wang Zhong continued to sing while tapping on the helmet, “Stay calm, I tell myself. We should smile as we go to our deaths.”
“Kazakhstan, Kazarlia! The hearse passes the riverbank, the bank of Mother River!”
As the chorus hit, finally, an instrument other than the drum (helmet) joined in. Wang Zhong looked towards the source of the music and saw an unfamiliar soldier with a balalaika.
His expression was solemn, as if he was playing a dirge for himself.
Entering the third verse, Wang Zhong continued: “I’ve been surrounded, I’ve been surrounded; there is no escape.
“Come closer, you beasts, let me host you properly!”
“They’re shouting something, coming closer to me.
“One hit my face with a rifle butt, blood covered my eyes.
“Alright, farewell. I have pulled the pin!”
As he sang this line, Wang Zhong saw a soldier nearby clenching his fist, veins bulging.
He might have recalled a comrade who died alongside the enemy.
Wang Zhong: “Kazakhstan, Kazarlia! The hearse passes the riverbank, the bank of Mother River!”
The song from then on was just a repetition of the chorus and a guitar solo segment, but since there was no guitar, the chorus had to be repeated over and over.
Frankly speaking, if this song were played in Aganistan, it would have a taste of black humor, because the Soviet army was the invader and the people described as beasts in the song were the valiantly resisting insurgents.
The more heroic the soldiers in the song were, the more it highlighted the immorality of the war.
But in the current environment, the “beasts” had become the invading Prussian Army, so the song immediately became filled with a heroic spirit.
Wang Zhong hadn’t thought it would fit so well when he copied it.
He had simply chosen one that looked easy to sing.
Now, looking around, the young girls had all started crying, while the big mamas from the laundry team were patting the girls’ shoulders, offering their broad and sturdy chests for the girls to cry out loud on.
Yes, the mamas’ chests.
Wang Zhong stopped and looked around, “I’ve finished singing. Where’s the applause?”
The others hadn’t reacted yet—they were too busy getting into the mindset to fight the enemy to death and had no time to spare.
Wang Zhong could do nothing but shrug helplessly, and then he picked up the helmet he had been tapping all the while and placed it back on the soldier’s head, “What’s your name?”
“Semyon Alekseyevich.”
Wang Zhong, “Semyon, keep this helmet, it will make you fearless on the battlefield.”
Semyon grinned, “Don’t worry, General, I have already killed an enemy and pissed over him.”
Wang Zhong was stunned, “What?”
Semyon used his hands to describe, “In Shostka, I was sure that I killed the enemy myself, I shot him five times with the Tokarev. Then when the battle was over, I found him and pissed a layer on his pants. I had really needed to go, and there was a lot and it was pretty yellow. The moment I finished, my hands stopped shaking, and my heart calmed down.
Even if ten thousand Prussians came, I would not be afraid!”
Wang Zhong: …
At that moment, the air raid alert suddenly sounded.
The broadcast also transmitted Brother Peter’s shout, “Enemy planes have bypassed the direct front of my sound array and are coming from the east! They are almost here, take cover!”
Brother Peter’s sound array had always faced the west and kept “scanning” from south to north and then from north to south; the east was the search blind spot.
The air raid alert was still sounding, and Wang Zhong’s overhead view had already spotted the bomber.
He ran towards Olga and Liu Xia, opening his arms and tumbling both to the ground.
At that moment, the sound of explosions and machine-gun fire came.
Then came the sound of Divine Arrows being launched as well as the ack-ack guns.
Perhaps realizing that there were Divine Arrows on the ground, the enemy planes quickly left.
Wang Zhong, who had been keeping his eyes shut and pressing down hard on the heads of the two girls, now breathed a sigh of relief and opened his eyes to look.
To the left was Ludmila gazing at him affectionately, and to the right was Olga doing the same.
For a moment, Wang Zhong felt that staying on the ground wasn’t so bad.
But the next moment, he stood up. Then he reached out to pull Ludmila up first, and then Olga.
Olga looked at Wang Zhong with admiration, “You really can compose music!!”
Wang Zhong, “Ah, this… Music is inherently divine, the marvelous comes by chance. It’s ‘The Holy War’ bestowed upon me by Saint Andrew.”
Olga grabbed Wang Zhong’s hand, “This piece must be published! I especially, especially love this song!”
Ludmila directly embraced Wang Zhong’s arm, “Me too!”
Olga didn’t care, she embraced Wang Zhong’s arm as well.
Ludmila, “Your Highness, be mindful of your image!”
“If you really get engaged, and wear an engagement ring…” Olga stopped, “No, I’m the sister, a sister can always do this.”
…She had found a loophole in the system!
But if the Imperial Highness decided to recognize this sister from now on, maybe there would be no more intense confrontations?
Wang Zhong thought that.
Meanwhile, Sergeant Semyon was showing off to everyone the helmet that the General had been tapping for nearly five minutes.
It seemed that someone wanted to buy this helmet, and the bid had already reached 1,000 Rubles.