My soldiers are all Fourth Calamities!

45. Pavel Korchagin

It was past 1 a.m. when the player finished tinkering with the "Imitation KPzW-19".

Rochester and a small group of soldiers were half-asleep for various reasons and emotions. The more they tried to sleep, the more they felt unable to fall asleep in this night that was more like dusk and dawn—what the other soldiers called the "White Nights."

This made Rochester feel that something was wrong. How could there be a white night in Ukraine?

A young person who has studied high school geography and hasn't forgotten it will generally understand the formation of daylight.

Due to the tilt of the Earth's axis and its revolution around the sun, around the summer solstice, the sun does not sink too far below the horizon after sunset. The atmosphere refracts and scatters the sunlight below the horizon, keeping the entire sky bright or hazy all night.

This phenomenon can often be experienced in St. Petersburg, Russia; Helsinki, Finland; and Mohe, China.

But in Ukraine, that's absolutely impossible.

Rochester looked at the faces of the other soldiers, who seemed to have become accustomed to this situation. Could it be that the geography and astronomy of this world are different from those of Earth?

[Intelligence Unlocked - Special Phenomenon - "White Night"]

Just as Rochester was pondering this, the intelligence appeared, but it was merely an entry for a special phenomenon.

There is no further information on this.

The white night forced those still awake to get busy with their own affairs. A recruit next to Rochester took out a booklet and began writing something in it.

Perhaps noticing Rochester's gaze, the recruit stopped writing, looking somewhat embarrassed.

"Are you writing?" Rochester broke the awkward silence with a friendly expression. This was quite common during the war at the time, as many soldiers had little-known hobbies to relieve the tension of war.

Rochester, worried that the soldier might have reservations, or for some other unknown or unspeakable reason, also pulled a small booklet from his inner pocket. "I used to write things on nights like this, things that were about home."

The first part of Rochester's statement wasn't entirely untrue. Although he was a computer science student, he tried to take some seemingly "free" paths—such as writing online novels—in order to avoid becoming a slave in the future.

I attend classes during the day, and then rush to finish those two or three chapters in the last few hours of the night, publishing them before midnight.

Upon hearing Rochester's words, the soldier's face clearly showed less tension and embarrassment than before.

"Commander Rochester was like that too... Me too, homesick. When I think of the books and poems in my desk drawer at home, I want to write something. Since joining the revolution, I've spent many nights writing like this..." The soldier was silent for a while. "Most of us new recruits have done similar things. I often hear that some veterans easily cut ties with their past lives after going to the battlefield."

"But I and several of my peers often try to look back and explain this resolution, but... for us, the group known as the 'Iron Youth,' it all seems too vague."

"Those veterans are so closely connected to their past; they have families, wives and children who love them, careers and needs—all of which are strong enough to be destroyed by war."

"And us young people, we only have parents, maybe a daughter, though not many people have daughters," the soldier said, as if remembering something. "Hey, the one who was smoking and telling us stories this afternoon, he had a daughter. Look at everyone's expressions back then, it's so rare to see someone with a daughter, we were so envious."

At first, Rochester didn't feel anything when he heard what the player Karl said, but after hearing what the soldier said, he couldn't help but feel a little melancholy.

The dating environment in my past life was truly indescribable; there were boxers everywhere, various wrongful convictions, and discrimination.

After thinking for a while, and having a lot to say, Rochester ultimately didn't say anything, only letting out a simple "Ah."

"Yes, indeed, how enviable," Rochester said sincerely.

The soldier continued, "For us, the influence of our parents is weak, and the girl is elusive. Besides that, we have nothing else but ideals, perhaps some passions and hobbies."

The soldier was silent for a moment, then spoke again, "If the revolution succeeds, I really envy the next generation. We, the older generation, stand at the turning point of the country, while the younger generation stands at the threshold of life. Before we could even take root, the giant wave of war swept us away. For those children, the war may just be a pause in life, and the days after the war are still promising."

"And we, perhaps, will be held tightly by war for the rest of our lives. Although we are willing to accept this, and future generations will be happy because of our efforts now, we often feel sad about it whenever we think about it."

After listening, Rochester shook his head. "No, we will never be held captive by war in our lives. Everyone will be liberated, everyone will be free, everyone will have bread, and humanity will realize its ideals."

Rochester was absolutely certain of this. Although he was just a young man in his twenties like the soldier, he had seen the future, the ideal country that had been realized—a country with many problems, but undeniably, it was moving in a positive direction.

But in addition, future generations will also participate in a war, and the future will not only involve hot wars, financial wars, information wars, biological wars...

The old struggle has ended, and the new struggle has begun.

"Commander Rochester, why are you so certain?"

"Because it is the inevitability of history. For the enemy, it is to cause trouble, fail, cause trouble again, fail again, until they perish. This is the logic of imperialism and all reactionaries in the world in dealing with the people's cause. For us, it is to struggle, fail, struggle again, fail again, struggle again, until we win."

This was Rochester's first time doing ideological work, but he always felt that such empty talk was powerless, and that he still needed to put it into practice and do ideological work among the people.

I wonder if there's any explanation for holding these "grievance sessions" in this area.

But to Rochester's surprise, the soldier seemed to have a sudden epiphany: "I understand. Just like this white night, reactionary forces go against the will of the people and the tide of history. Their nature dictates that they will only make repeated troubles, suffer repeated setbacks, and eventually face complete annihilation. This is their irreversible fate."

After saying that, the soldier began writing in his notebook as he spoke.

"Our cause of justice and the people, though fraught with difficulties and setbacks, is rooted in the hearts of the people and follows the general trend. Even if we suffer repeated hardships, we will become stronger with each battle and will eventually achieve final victory."

Rochester looked at his notebook.

The inscription read: "How the Steel Was Tempered," by Nikolai Alekseevich Ostrovsky, and by Pavel Korchagin.

And then came a familiar message—a shocking piece of news swept through the small town like a whirlwind: "The Tsar has been overthrown!"