The Don River in April is no longer quiet, the arrival of the spring flood season makes the river full of life, and the gurgling water is so pleasant to look at.

Unfortunately, with the rebellion of the Czech Legion, the entire lower reaches of the Don River were turned upside down, and the peasants who had just acquired the land had to interrupt spring sowing and watch the former old men continue to do their best.

Severodonetsk, northwest of Luhansk, is a small city with a small base where Voroshilov has his headquarters. In the vicinity of the town there were a large number of guerrillas, of course, the most numerous were the cavalry of the Red Army on tall horses.

For cavalry, Voroshilov loves it from the bottom of his heart, and the most envious of a dick like him is the aristocratic lord who rides a tall horse, how handsome and cool! So in the sequence of the 10th Army, the cavalry is undoubtedly the highest status.

If there is the highest status, there will naturally be the lowest. In the sequence of the 10th Army, the least popular with Voroshilov was undoubtedly the artillery that was assigned to him. There was no interest in the artillery Voroshilov, in his opinion such a bulky big guy simply could not keep up with the ranks, just a bunch of soy sauce bottles that dragged their feet.

To tell the truth, because of Stalin's connections, the above equipment for this cargo is not bad, including 8 1909 122 mm howitzers and 12 Schneider 1909 105 mm mountain howitzers. This kind of firepower is really relatively powerful for the newly built Red Army, but for those who can't use it, no matter how powerful the firepower is, it is empty.

At least that's what the officer in command of this artillery unit thinks, in his eyes Voroshilov is an arrogant straw bale, or to add a comment that he doesn't know anything about military affairs. Because from the last Lugansk fiasco. He couldn't see the slightest glimmer of Voroshilov. If it weren't for him, he was more clever. Having given the order to retreat early, this hastily fled to Slavyansk. Otherwise, it is quite possible that these high-powered artillery pieces have already been left to the White Army.

Mikhail. Petrovic. Sukhoi sighed and sat up from his marching bed, and it was daylight again, and the idleness of these days had made him extremely boring. He ordered the orderlies to fetch a basin of water, and began the most important job of the day—shaving.

As a nobleman, our artillery major was very attentive to his disguise. The chin should be shaved clean, and there should be no stubble at all. As for the two slightly upturned French-style mustaches on the lips, they should be carefully trimmed, not even at all, and after trimming, they must be oiled with special hair wax, which looks so oily and energetic.

To tell the truth, before, at least before Sukhoi went to study in France, there was not so much poverty. At that time, like ordinary Russian aristocrats, he had the rugged style characteristic of polar bears.

When I arrived in Sukhoi, France, I learned what it means to be a real nobleman. Compared to the French high society, the Russian aristocracy was nothing short of a pigsty. So primitive, so rough, so unbearable.

However, Sukhoi's aristocratic atmosphere is still a bit noisy, not exactly orthodox French style, and under the elegant and gorgeous appearance of France, there is also a bit of British stiffness. There is no way, who let our Mr. Major, who also served as a naval lieutenant at the Russian Embassy in Britain for two years, inevitably be contaminated with John Bull's old-fashioned style.

Don't be surprised, it's not that the author made a mistake, the protagonist of our chapter, Sukhoi, is indeed an orthodox naval officer, and even his father, uncle, grandfather, and grandfather are also naval officers. It was the whiskey of the Navy that flowed through the veins of this family, not the vodka of the Army.

Of course, our Sukhoi classmates have no love for whiskey or vodka, and as a patient with a deep alcohol allergy, even a little bit of alcohol in kvasli can suffocate him. His favorite drink is British-style Darjeeling Black Tea, a slightly grape-scented drink with a delicate and soft taste that he has become a "bad habit" in the UK.

"Ivan, isn't my uniform ironed yet?" Sukhoi, who was fiddling with the cuffs of his shirt in the mirror, asked with some dissatisfaction in Russian, with a bit of London accent.

His poor orderly glanced at his commander with great "resentment", and to tell the truth, he was angry with this "sissy" commander.

In Comrade Ivan's opinion, men don't need to live so meticulously at all, a little dust on the coat, and a slight crooked cufflinks can have any effect. So what, is it necessary to fold the square scarf in the jacket pocket so carefully? If you grow a little longer, you can die if you are shorter!

"This iron doesn't work!" Ivan underestimated.

Sukhoi glanced at the kid and suddenly said, "Abadworkmanalwaysblameshistool."

Ivan, who was ironing clothes, really wanted to touch his head with his hand, someone's bad habit is also like to quote some English proverbs, and like to show off that he is literate. He was fed up with this vice.

Putting on his coat, Sukhoi fiddled in front of the mirror for a long time, and to tell the truth, this product was not very satisfied. However, the conditions were limited, so he waved his hand to let Ivan go, and the guy put on his own leather boots and strode out of the tent.

For what did Comrade Sukhoi choose to polish his boots himself? Because Ivan's craftsmanship really did not satisfy him, as a nobleman and an officer, he received the teaching from his grandfather - the head can be broken, the hair must not be messy, the blood can be shed, and the boots cannot be without oil. All in all, a soldier must have grace, even if he is dead, he must JJbombsky.

With graceful steps, Sukhoi began his second most important job of the day, inspecting his camp and urging his soldiers to maintain their cannons, in his words, Thecobblershouldsticktohisbefore (The cobbler should do his duty).

After walking around the camp, it was generally noon, and for our very particular Sukhoi students, this lunch was also exquisite. It is better to have fine wheat bread (white bread) with caviar from the Caspian Sea. A little more fresh juice.

Of course. Now there will be no white bread. Juice or anything is not realistic, he can only nibble on the caviar brought by the family, and then the cold water pipe of the Don River is enough.

This lunch didn't take much time, and when he wiped his mouth very gracefully and left the table, he would go back to his tent for a nap. The time is generally not long, that is, half an hour to forty-five minutes. After getting up, the procedure of getting dressed in the morning is repeated, and this is an important reason why our Comrade Ivan is full of resentment.

Afternoon. Sukhoi was at his happiest time, and at this time, he would order his soldiers to raise the hot air balloons used for artillery observation and go to the sky to feel the feeling of flying. In his own words, it's Halfaloafisbetterthanone.

Why do you say that? As mentioned earlier, our Sukhoi classmate is a naval officer, and his specialty is gunnery. Artillery is not a study of how to shoot cannons (laughs), but of how to make cannonballs more accurate.

And if you want to shoot accurately, the requirements for observation and aiming are very high. As the old saying goes, stand tall and look far away in order to get a clearer view of the impact point. In order to correct the error, it is better to stand a little higher. And the mainmast of the warship is very high. But for observations, it's still not ideal. By the end of the 19th century and the beginning of the 20th century, with the development of aviation technology, the emergence of balloons, airships, and airplanes seemed to solve this problem.

For example, as mentioned earlier, observation balloons used by artillery. Of course, in World War I, balloons and everything were pediatric, and with the advent of airplanes as a platform, balloons and airships quickly became obsolete.

Our Sukhoi classmate has seen the world, and after returning from England, most of his energy was devoted to aviation equipment, to be more precise, to airplanes. At the Baltic Fleet, he vigorously advocated the development of new types of aircraft, believing that aircraft would play a very important role in naval warfare in the new century.

However, this guy is soft-spoken, and his set does not match the big ships and giant artillery navy, and the development is not satisfactory. Otherwise, a good young man like him, who has academic qualifications, study abroad experience, and an aristocratic background, would not be almost thirty years old, and he would still be just a major.

In the Baltic Fleet, Sukhoi was the gunnery officer of the battleship Petropavlovsk, and the entire experience of the First World War was almost lackluster. After the February Revolution, his life was even more unspeakable, as an old officer with an aristocratic background, he was immediately relieved of all duties by the fleet committee, and could only stay at home and play model airplanes with a few flying enthusiasts.

After the October Revolution, Sukhoi's life became more and more difficult, and after being confiscated of all his property, he could not even play with model airplanes, and was almost ready to flee to Sweden to join his relatives. Fortunately, before the departure of this cargo, Trotsky threw out the policy of appointing old officers, and with the defection of the Czech Legion, the process of appointing old officers was undoubtedly greatly accelerated.

Sukhoi did not have a good opinion of the Bolsheviks. Think about it, too, it is impossible to have a good impression of the perpetrator for whoever has been robbed of all privileges and property. Of course, he also has no good impression of the White Army, as a young man with overseas experience, his horizons are still a little broader than the old old-fashioned in Russia, and he knows that according to the urine nature of Tsarist Russia, revolution is a matter of time. I feel that those barefoot Bolsheviks can't even win, and now it's too difficult to turn the tables around, and there is no future!

According to Sukhoi's idea, it is better to go abroad and eat a bowl of rice abroad! However, he did not succeed because the Cheka summoned him and demanded that he serve in the Red Army or else be prosecuted for counter-revolutionary charges.

Nikolai, who was summoned with him at the time. Yudovich. Ivanov suggested going to the lower reaches of the Don to join the White Army. This artillery general of the Tsarist era was still a little popular at that time, and many old officers responded to his call and ran away. But Sukhoi stayed and obediently went to the Red Army to report, and to be honest, at that time, many old officers who were still on the sidelines were shocked.

So why didn't Sukhoi run away with Ivanov? There are two reasons for this, one is that Trotsky has spoken to him, and the other is that the tutor has a unique ability to fool Sukhoi to make him a little confused. Especially when he left, he also gave him a lot of Darjeeling black tea, which made this product even more joyful. Another reason is simpler, he is a naval officer, he is not familiar with the army of the Don, and the navy is still a little more receptive to the revolution than the former army and the Bolsheviks. Quite a few officers and generals of the Navy were also willing to serve the Soviet power.

With black tea. There is also a tradition of factions. Sukhoi decided to do something for the Red Army first, to see how the situation was, and if it was really not right, it was not too late to run away.

So, Sukhoi got on the pirate ship, but to his surprise, he was not reassigned to serve in the navy, but formed a "naval infantry" with many Baltic Fleet sailors. Thousands of miles from Petrograd to Luhansk.

As an expert and expert in artillery, Sukhoi was appointed commander of the artillery brigade of the Red 10th Army, which was responsible for supporting Voroshilov's troops. As mentioned earlier, whether as a technical officer or an old officer and former nobleman, he looked down on the vulgar Voroshilov. Especially after the fiasco in Lugansk, the "picky" Sukhoi classmates did not fail to sarcastically ridicule their military commander behind his back.

To put it bluntly, Sukhoi's behavior is close to looking for death, as an expert in internal fighting and foreign war, Voroshilov is originally a very cautious master of rebellion, and it is too easy to kill an old officer and old nobleman who does not like his eyes. Especially. After steel opened the door for him, Sukhoi's name must have been on the first list to be liquidated.

It was this afternoon. Just as Sukhoi was finishing a day's flight experience and drinking afternoon tea with dried sweet potatoes, the political commissar came to the door with the staff of the local Cheka in Slavyansk.

"Mikhail. Petrovic. Sukhoi! ”

The small, somewhat Turkish commissar nodded his name very seriously. Sukhoi did not like this commissar, and in his opinion the so-called commissar was actually a product of the Bolsheviks' distrust of the old officers, that is, the overseer of the army.

In particular, this commissar can almost be said to have not gone to school, and he knows nothing about artillery. Sukhoi did not look down on him, but felt that since you don't understand artillery, Comrade Political Commissar, then you should let more professional people be in charge of command, instead of having to stick in everything and go online at every turn. Aren't you blindly commanding?

Anyway, after more than a month of cooperation, Sukhoi and the political commissar have been in constant friction. Sukhoi thought that this was unprofessional and indiscriminate, and the commissar was not used to his old aristocratic bourgeois habits, and in any case, both sides gave the other the worst evaluation, almost incompatible.

Now that the political commissar is coming to the door with a menacing attitude, Sukhoi knows that there is absolutely nothing good, and even he can read the meaning of schadenfreude from the other party's expression.

Sukhoi raised his eyes and looked at the two men in black who were following the political commissar, this kind of guy dressed in black leather and stiff like a zombie, he naturally knew, Cheka, he hadn't seen it before.

Sukhoi asked in as calm a tone as he could: "What's the matter, Comrade Commissar?" ”

However, his peace was exchanged for the political commissar shouting: "Who is with you as a comrade!" Mikhail. Petrovic. Sukhoi, you old aristocracy, damned exploiting class, enemy of the revolution, class hatred between us......"

Sukhoi was really not interested in this set, he interrupted the commissar to continue reciting lines, and asked: "What the hell is going on, don't go around in circles!" ”

The commissar seemed to want to show that he was thoroughly revolutionary and was ready to make a passage, but the Cheka staff behind him obviously did not want to waste so much time and directly announced: "Mikhail. Petrovic. Sukhoi, according to what we know, you are seriously suspected of counter-revolution, come with us! ”

The corners of Sukhoi's mouth twitched and he asked, "What is the specific charge?" Is there an arrest warrant? ”

The staff of the two Chekas are a little impatient, what arrest warrant do the Chekas want to arrest people? You kid wants to be arrested, right?

Immediately, the two of them shouted in a low voice: "Don't talk nonsense, your charges are very clear, and the evidence is quite sufficient, and you can't shirk it!" ”

Sukhoi sighed and said quietly: "Then what are you going to do with me, just shoot me on the spot." ”

"Do you think we wouldn't dare?"

Sukhoi sighed again and said, "Of course you dare, who doesn't know that you can do anything." ”

Immediately, the political commissar came to his senses: "When death is approaching, you still dare to sarcastically ridicule the revolutionary cadres, you really die without repentance......"

Sukhoi plucked out his ears and said to the two Checas very impatiently: "Okay, I'll go with you, this fly is so annoying, hurry up, at least I can still have a quiet ear!" ”

"You ......"

The political commissar was so angry that it seemed that he wanted to rush forward and liquidate Sukhoi's counter-revolutionary crimes by force. However, the two Chekas were not interested in waiting for a long time, and directly took Sukhoi away, and there were still a lot of people they had to arrest today, where was there time to waste.

That night, Sukhoi was thrown into the Cheka prison in Slavyansk. According to the Cheka staff, he will be tried tomorrow for his counter-revolutionary crimes, and the people will give him the final verdict. However, Sukhoi himself knew very well that according to the standards of the counter-revolutionaries who had been shot before, he would not escape death, and perhaps after the end of the trial tomorrow, he would be dragged out of the city to shoot targets.

Is Sukhoi afraid of death? It should be said that fear of death. No one is not afraid of death, not even the strongest soldiers, who regard death as home, will be afraid when death comes. However, Sukhoi's situation is somewhat different, and he is more afraid of a humiliating death than death itself. According to the ancestral teachings of the Sukhoi family, even if it is death, you have to die vigorously, and you have to die like a person.

Like a dough, kneaded at will, and mixed with a bad reputation of being a coward, Sukhoi can't stand it. The family honor and pride he possessed told him that in tomorrow's interrogation he was to behave like a real warrior, a real man, and that he was going to give a resounding slap in the face to those who tried to insult and slander him! (To be continued......)

PS: Bow and thank you Comrade Juventus! In addition, this chapter is a cameo by Sukhoi's glorious classmates, and comrades who want to make a cameo can leave me a message.