Vasily’s eyes widened, but before he could speak, someone nearby started to mock, “Vasily, give us one!”
Wang Zhong was all too familiar with this; he hadn’t joined the army, but he had gone through military training during junior high, senior high, and university.
During military training, it was common for the instructor to lead a jeer, followed by a song, subtly fostering a sense of collective honor and competitive spirit.
Now, seeing someone taking the lead, Wang Zhong immediately joined in the jeering, “Vasily, give us one!”
His encouragement quickly caught on among those nearby who understood what was happening, and they joined in jeering at Vasily. Initially, the jeers were disorganized, but after Wang Zhong took the lead a few times and added clapping, the shouts gradually became more coordinated.
“Vasily, give us one!”
Clap! Clap! Clap!
Melania’s comrades were not very familiar with Ante language and didn’t know what was going on, but it seemed fun to mock along, so they imitated.
Facing the rhythmic applause and jeering of the crowd, Vasily stomped his foot, “Fine, I’ll do one. Filippov, play the drums!”
From below the stage, Filippov screamed, “Do you have to drag me into this? It’s embarrassing enough for you alone!”
Wang Zhong: “How is this embarrassing? It’s just performing a little show in response to the enthusiasm of our comrades! You guys heat up the atmosphere, and soon it will be everyone’s turn to come up.”
Filippov came up carrying his drums, and Wang Zhong joked, “See, you brought the drums directly, didn’t you?”
“I had a vague feeling it would end up like this, but I didn’t expect it to be in front of all the commanding fighters.”
Wang Zhong: “Getting cold feet?”
Filippov laughed, “That would be unacceptable, now wouldn’t it? Could it be worse than the Prussians’ artillery fire?”
Wang Zhong burst into laughter; he greatly agreed with Filippov’s words. He too felt that after risking his life on the battlefield and coming back, he seemed to have grown stronger in expressing himself in public because he simply wasn’t timid.
As Filippov started drumming, Vasily began to sing the song “Tanya Tanyusha”.
Wang Zhong smiled, as this song also held many memories for him. When Loktov had just joined what was then the “Rocossov Battle Group”, along with thousands of military academy students, they sang this song.
Back then, the song was purely a tribute to love, holding a place in Wang Zhong’s heart similar to “The Girl Across”, but now, the song had been colored by war. It still praised love but also the youth of the young people amidst the flames of war.
Before crossing over, Wang Zhong had longed for this kind of youth. It was the youth of his grandfather, graduating from school chanting “bearing the rise and fall of our land”, turning into a giant wave of national salvation.
It was the youth of his father, “The flag of the republic bears the elegance of our blood-stained valor.”
Back then, Wang Zhong thought it was incredibly romantic.
Now it was his turn, albeit in a different world.
At this moment, Vasily reached the chorus, his voice almost hoarse with strain, “Tanya Tanyusha, my Takiyanna, do you still remember that fiery hot summer?”
The fiery hot summer referred to the intense artillery fire of the Prussians.
Yet in the midst of the artillery fire, the youth still sang praises to love.
Wang Zhong could already imagine the pained expression of some middle school student in the future, being asked to write a reflection on the song.
Without having experienced it, of course, they wouldn’t understand the significance of this song to young soldiers.
Thinking about the future scenario of writing reflections, Wang Zhong started to mull over his own: should he answer “Actually, what the soldiers sing is not just of love, but a way to look forward to a peaceful and happy life after victory”?
Vasily had just finished the refrain when someone let out three playful whistles.
And it wasn’t just one person whistling, it seemed like everyone knew that this was the part for whistling.
Suddenly, Wang Zhong saw someone in the crowd itching to give it a try, so he pointed in that direction and then made an “up” gesture with his hand.
Someone then jumped out from the crowd with a balalaika in hand.
Wang Zhong had thought he was going to join in the ensemble, but to his surprise, he started strumming the balalaika and began singing another song:
“There was a summer, dawn just breaking, I looked over at the neighbor’s place!
“I saw a girl with dark eyes, picking grapes in baskets.
“I couldn’t help but blush, and my heart skipped a beat, I wanted to speak to her.
“Please come to the river, let’s welcome the dawn together!”
Wang Zhong frowned, he knew about the Quiet Don River, and understood that “going to the river” here was not just about welcoming the dawn; these Russians were very unrestrained, there was no need for the sound of water mills as a cover.
Popov somehow got to Wang Zhong’s side and whispered, “Is this okay? It’s turning into a love song contest, shouldn’t we be singing ‘The Holy War’ or something?”
Wang Zhong, “No need, the soldiers will fight their own holy wars, for now, let them enjoy things they can’t on the battlefield. Love on the battlefield is extraordinarily romantic, don’t you think? It’s like finding a flower on a battlefield strewn with corpses, its surrounding hellish tableau makes it all the more dazzling.”
After saying that, Wang Zhong suddenly thought that someone should be writing this down – what great material for a memoir it would be. He would need to find someone to record his quotations, so many pithy statements could be born, confounding students who write reflections in the future.
The young man singing “The Girl with Black Eyes” got to the refrain, and his fingers became wild, turning what was a very melodious chorus into something akin to rock music, and then a new young man came on scene, matching the rhythm and starting to dance the legendary knee-destroying dance on the ground.
A revelation struck Wang Zhong, he remembered the Russian dance video he had watched before crossing over, which was choreographed in the form of a dance battle.
Many novels that describe the life of Russian soldiers also feature dance battle scenes; it seemed to be a Russian tradition.
So Wang Zhong waited for “The Girl with Black Eyes” to end, then stepped forward and shouted, “Which unit are you from?”
The balalaika player shrank his neck, “Can you not punish me to carry manure?”
Wang Zhong, “I won’t punish you. Today, whoever fails to follow up with an act will carry manure. Which unit are you from?”
“The 225th Motorized Infantry Regiment, First Battalion!” Stay updated via M-V-L
Wang Zhong, “Good, the 225th Infantry Division did well. Applaud!”
With that, he led a round of applause with rhythm.
After clapping three rounds, Wang Zhong asked, “Does the Guards Motorized Infantry have any better acts? Let’s have one from the Motorized Infantry!”
He was getting the hang of it, the feeling of leading songs during military training was coming back!
The 225th Division immediately began to heckle, following Wang Zhong’s shout, “Let’s have one from the Guards Motorized Infantry!”
A voice from the Motorized Infantry called out, “General, we don’t have any instruments, may we have permission to go back to the barracks to get them?”
Wang Zhong, “Granted! What about the rest of you, can’t you do without instruments? 225th Division, boo your big brother!”
So the 225th Division started booing enthusiastically. Usually, the officers from the Motorized Infantry taught them combat experience, and their relationship seemed pretty good, which made them even more uninhibited now.
Suddenly, someone stood up; it was Dimitri, who had transferred to the artillery battalion. His former regiment was now part of the Artillery Division that Wang Zhong was in the process of forming but had not yet assembled.
“Although I’ve now been peeled off from the Division Artillery Battalion, I am still an old machine-infantry soldier. Let me go first!”
Then, like a whirlwind, he charged into the open space between several divisions and began performing the human top, a move that required his legs to be bent, clearly a move of high difficulty just by watching.
The lad with the balalaika immediately supplied the music, and Filippov began to drum.
Dmitri spun even more energetically; no sooner had he finished the performance for the 225th Division than someone leapt out to engage in a dance battle with him.
The two danced for about three minutes, all the way to the end of the music.
When they stood up, both sides were panting and then squeezed each other’s hands firmly.
Wang Zhong: “Good! Applause!”
Just then, the fellows who had just brought the instruments came back with Bayan and the violin.
Wang Zhong: “How come I didn’t know there were people in my old unit who could play the violin? Are you a high school student?”
The one with the violin said, “Yeah, what about it?”
“Are you in the infantry?” Wang Zhong asked again.
“Yeah.”
Wang Zhong: “You can’t be in the infantry. We’re short of anti-aircraft firing commanders who have to calculate shooting parameters mentally, and that requires high school students. Report to the anti-aircraft battalion tomorrow.”
“But… my classmates are all in the infantry.”
Wang Zhong: “Then you’ll all go to the anti-aircraft battalion.”
“We want to shed blood and sacrifice!” the lad with the Bayan protested loudly.
Wang Zhong: “Do you think you don’t have to shed blood and sacrifice in the anti-aircraft battalion? Hmph, I’ve already demonstrated it to Division Commander Yegorov, and he will surely use anti-aircraft guns to fire at close range against enemy infantry like I did. Then you’ll have plenty to sacrifice!
“Besides, our Divine Arrow air defense has suppressed the enemy’s ground attacks, but we only have so many prayer hands, and they can’t be replaced immediately when they die. Air defense is very important!
“Enough about that, perform your act! Don’t disgrace the Guards Machine Infantry, you new recruits fresh off the shelf!”
No sooner had he finished speaking than the lad with the violin began to play a lively melody.
Wang Zhong: “The Skylark?”
It was not Kajiura Yuki’s “The Skylark,” but the famous violin piece “The Skylark,” which any friend who has taken violin grading would definitely recognize.
Before crossing over, Wang Zhong happened to have such a friend.
The piece is also easy to recognize because it starts by imitating the sound of a lark with the violin, as if suddenly hearing a lark singing from the trees in a dense forest.
Then, the piece becomes cheerful.
This piece is a common one for violin grading because of its rapid playing, placing high demands on the performers and also serving as a prime piece for violin virtuosos to showcase their skills—
Equivalent to “Flight of the Bumblebee” in piano music.
Wang Zhong: “But the Skylark doesn’t need the Bayan, does it?”
The piece required piano accompaniment, and Wang Zhong couldn’t imagine how the Bayan was supposed to replace the piano.
Then the lad with the Bayan told Wang Zhong the answer: he didn’t replace it, he just started dancing, using the Bayan as a dance prop.
Wang Zhong was astonished.
At that moment, several girls from the laundry squad appeared, holding hands. They wore skirts and twirled around the dancing lad with the Bayan, like blooming flowers.
The appearance of the girls ignited the enthusiasm of all the young lads present.
In this regard, it could only be said that young boys from both times were the same.
Suddenly, Wang Zhong really wanted to teach them to sing “Look Over Here, Girl Across.” At his junior high graduation, their class rented a large room for the celebration. That was his first time at a KTV. He remembered two especially wild moments to this day.
One was the boys singing “Look Over Here, Girl Across,” which had the girls grinning with laughter, and the other was when they sang “You’ve Conquered Me Just Like This,” with a rather bold MV that got the whole room cheering.
It was then that Wang Zhong realized “conquering” could also mean reducing the distance between two people to a negative number.
After the piece was over, Wang Zhong said to the lad with the Bayan, “Not bad, I never thought the Bayan could be a prop!”
Then, without further ado, the performance began, and the “dance floor” was given over to the girls.
The young men quieted down, watching the girls.
After the piece ended, Wang Zhong declared, “Excellent, I announce the girls have won this round!”
Everyone clapped together.
Vasily suddenly shouted, “Ladies, the skirts you’re wearing, why do they look like flour sacks with the bottoms cut off? There are even words on the side: net weight 50 kilograms!”
Wang Zhong took a look, and indeed there were words there!
Immediately, one of the girls shouted, “These were given to us for packing our luggage! They aren’t the sacks from the cooking squad used for storing grain! Don’t besmirch our innocence!”
Vasily laughed, “So you wrapped yourselves up in your own sacks!”
Wang Zhong: “What about the military skirts?”
Pavlov: “They are hired workers; they don’t get military uniforms, just donated clothes from the rear.”
Wang Zhong remembered Nelly; she too was a hired worker, and that sailor cap seemed to have been given by Ludmila.
Wang Zhong sighed and said, “Give the girls another sack.”
The girls cheered.
Wang Zhong thought of the lyrics to “Tanya Tanyusha”:
Sometimes in the crowd, I can glimpse
That familiar dear figure
Blue little round cap, blue short coat
Dark skirt, a maiden’s figure…
He looked at the skirts made of flour sacks, revealing a smile of resignation yet without bitterness. One day in the future, this too would become a precious war memory, finding its way into someone’s memoirs.