Battlefield Priest's Diary

Chapter 30 Coming ashore
Putin ...

Putin ...

Гр.Распутин…

A faint murmur echoed in his ears. Qin Hao was surrounded by thick fog, and when he looked down, he couldn't even see his toes.

Snap~ Snap~ Snap~
The sound of pages turning indicated that another page of the diary had been turned in front of him.

[Fire burns through the thorns, and you set off again.]

Before you lies a river whose bottom is invisible. What will you touch if you put your hand in?

Is it a fish to fill your stomach? A beautiful seashell? Precious gold? Or a sharp blade buried in the river sand?

[River in the mist, objective: Hold the Masurian Lake area for more than a month. Return the lost pieces upon success.]

! ! !
Upon seeing the final information, Qin Hao's heart stirred. His biggest worry was that the chess pieces were purely consumables.

It now appears that certain conditions can be met for this to be supplemented, which is the best news he has heard recently.

But, stay at Lake Masuria for a month? By then, the Russian troops should have already withdrawn, right?

Suddenly, his vision blurred, and Qin Hao lost his balance and sat down on the ground. As the fog began to dissipate, he heard someone calling his name.

"Father! Wake up!"

"Father! Father Pugin!"

Someone shook his body, and Qin Hao opened his eyes again, finding himself leaning against a grove of trees, surrounded by soldiers resting in various positions.

The young medic Sasha looked at him with a worried expression.

"The priest is awake!"

Someone shouted, and the previously quiet soldiers all stood up.

"The priest is awake!" "The priest is awake!" "Father Putin is awake!"

The soldiers passed the message around, and some even tried to squeeze through to see.

The priest in black has become the backbone of these people. Even when everyone is at a loss, as long as the priest is still there, they believe that there will be a way.

"Everyone, make way! Don't disturb the priest's rest and contemplation!" a voice rang out, and someone pushed aside the soldiers around them to squeeze in.

That was a face that was just as young.

Ivanovich Kozlov, a telephone operator, was literate, skilled in repair, and the most educated member of Qin Hao's group. He likely had experience in large-scale production in a factory, demonstrating strong coordination skills during the breakout and meticulously managing the river crossing.

Although he was not an officer, Qin Hao believed that Kozlov was an underappreciated organizational talent.

Qin Hao decided to first understand the current situation.

"Ivanovic, tell me what's been happening lately?"

"Yes, Father." The telephone operator dismissed the surrounding soldiers and then began his report.

"After we were halfway across the river, the German pursuers arrived. Fortunately, as you suggested, we did not leave the ferry behind. The other side fired a few mortar shots, but they had no effect and then retreated."

"After that, we walked east for a few kilometers and found this forest. The soldiers were exhausted, and you still hadn't woken up. In the end, everyone decided to take a break."

"How are the soldiers? How much supplies do we have left?" Qin Hao continued to ask.

"We broke through the encirclement with more than 400 people. Some got separated along the way. Now, including the wounded, there are still 380 people."

"All heavy weapons have been abandoned. We now have about one rifle for every four people. We have plenty of bullets and grenades, but..."

Then Ivanov glanced quietly at the others around him and lowered his voice. "Father, we're almost out of food."

Hearing this, Qin Hao's heart sank. The previous breakout had been unprepared, and each soldier only had some personal rations, which had been almost used up by the end of the day.

"You did a good job. Don't tell anyone else yet. I'll think of a way." Qin Hao nodded silently.

“Yes, Father Putin, I’ll go now.” Ivanovich bowed slightly and then walked away.

As they arrived at his resting place, a voice suddenly popped out, "Hey buddy, got a cigarette? Mine's all gone."

"Damn it! You scared me!" Ivanovich cursed as he looked at the veteran who appeared behind him, but he still rummaged through his pockets and handed over a crumpled pack of tobacco.

"It's Mahe tobacco again. This stuff tastes like rotten leaves when you smoke it." The soldier curled his lip in dissatisfaction and reached out to stuff a small piece of tobacco back into his mouth.

Ivanovich opened his palm and found that it was a small cookie.

"You're like a rat, where did you get this?" Ivanovich asked, popping a biscuit into his mouth as he chewed. After their previous battle, they could chat casually now.

"Hehe, when we broke out at night, I casually ransacked a few Germans' pockets," the veteran soldier said boastfully, revealing his yellow teeth.

"You actually dared to collect things at a time like that? Sooner or later you'll die because of that food!"

"It doesn't matter. I'm only sure of one thing: I will never starve to death," the veteran retorted as he unpacked the cheap cigarettes.

Smoke rose, and the two men each shared a cigarette, beginning their conversation.

"You know now, right?"

"what?"

"Don't play dumb, we're running out of food."

"Oh, it's alright, Father will find a way."

Hearing this, Ivanovich frowned. Unlike the other illiterate soldiers, he had received a certain level of education, was more independent in his thinking, and had not yet reached the point of blindly worshipping the black-clad priest.

"Creating food out of thin air? Even God couldn't do that, could he?" Ivanovich said with some concern.

"Who knows? That's Father Putin." The old soldier sat up and pointed into the distance. "You've seen the priest, haven't you noticed anything different?"

"Variety?"

"Idiot, it's here." The soldier pointed to his cheek.

Ivanovic pondered for a moment, and suddenly the scene from earlier flashed through his mind!
Father Putin has gained some weight!
In the preceding week or so, they had engaged in firefights with the German army more than ten times. Father Putin ate the same food as the soldiers almost every day, slept in the open-air camp, and even personally led men into battle when the situation became critical.

Malnutrition and overwork caused him to lose weight rapidly; his physical weakness was evident even before he boarded the ship.

But then, something amazing happened.

The priest in black fell asleep without warning and could not be woken up no matter how much they called him, not even when German shells landed beside him.

But when he woke up, he seemed to have recovered his entire mental state. It wasn't the kind of recovery that comes from a short sleep; it was as if he was completely refreshed, and even his cheekbones, which had been exposed due to his thinness, had been filled back in.

He looked as if some power was protecting him, easily bringing to mind words like "healing" and "resurrection."

"If you really are a saint, then perform another miracle!" Ivanovich muttered to himself in the smoke.

It seemed that someone had heard his prayer.

That evening, their troops encountered a Russian cavalry unit.

(End of this chapter)