Ch 10 "General Elizaveta"

"Pear trees were blooming
Over the river the fog merrily flowed.
On the steep banks stood Katyusha,
Her songs were like a sunny spring day…"

The remaining booms and bangs from rifles and artilleries hadn't completely vanish from the road where a battle was just fought; but as soldiers were on their way back to the campground, they heard a lovely singing voice.

Who was singing "Katyusha"? Who was singing about spring, love, the front-line soldier and the lovely girl? Wang Yao started humming this familiar tune involuntarily. Before the war which already seemed like a century ago when he was still in high school in Moscow, a lovely girl taught him this song—the first Russian song he learned…

No, this was not Lerika. This was nurse Natasha singing.

Natasha's blonde hair was braided on her forehead like a flower crown. She leaned on a slim white birch, as if she was the birch tree's sister. Maybe it was the winter sun or the girl's singing that made her usual icy face bright and warm, even radiating a sense of fondness and vitality, just like the girl Lerika…

Then, there was a series of coughings sounding like someone tried to hold back. Lerika's chestnut curly hair and rosy cheeks flashed in front of Wang Yao's eyes and disappeared into the thin air. Standing beside him was not Lerika, but Toris who was leaning on his rifle and almost coughed his lungs out. He had been under the weather for a few days and he must had caught some cold air last night while teaching everyone astronomy in the midst of freezing winter.

Natasha's singing stopped. She came up without a word, checked him out and simply annouced that he was experiencing a very severe case of cold and would not be able to carry out any mission for the next few days; then, she headed towards the bunker while Toris, in his terribly hoarse voice, trying to speak, "I'm fine…Natasha, keep singing."

"Come over." The girl suddenly turned around in front of the bunker, "Let me get some medications for you."

Suddenly, Wang Yao thought his ears went crazy—he heard noises of children. It sounded like a group of small children, in their high-pitched small voices, were talking at the road behind them.

It looked like a bus was pulling over by the road due to some mechanical issues. A few women dressed like nursery staffs were removing their luggages and leading the children off the bus. A middle-aged man in leather jacket who seemed to be their director was explaining their situation to the army commander:

"You see, Lieutenant. These kids were going to be sent to the back from occupied Leningrad. At first, we took the train but the rail was blown up by the Germans. We finnally got a vehicle, but just when we were so close to Moscow, the bus broke down..."

"Then let the children wait in our infantry campground for a while. We will contact Moscow right now and they will send another bus to pick you up." The lieutenant's eyes were red from days of tiresome plannings and missions; but, in front of these unexpected guests—specifically speaking, a group of children ranging from two to eight years of age—he tried to make himself look friendly.

The infantry area suddenly became so lively. On the othewise exhausted and distressed faces of soldiers who were drained from several days of battle, there appeared to be smiles—fatherly and brotherly smiles. Those big callous hands covered with black fume stains were used to handle weapons; now, they were carefully lifting those little kids onto their laps, asking about their name, age and so on. Among these sweet childish voices were a few foreign accents—those kids were probably the same situation as Wang Yao, sent by their governments to study in the Soviet Union.

Wang Yao had always loved children and after knowing their similar backgrounds, he felt even closer to those little guys. He caught his eyes on a little girl of merely five or six years old. She had a lovely light brown ponytail; those crystal green eyes were sparkling a high and mighty spirit.

"Elizaveta Hedervary." He knelt down in front of her and read the name sewed on her clothes. "So, little girl, you are little Eliza, right?"

"I'm not little girl and my name is not little Eliza. Comrade, you need to apologize to me!" The little girl pouted her little mouth.

This caught Wang Yao off guard. "Alright, I apologize. But what do I call you?"

"I am Elizaveta, five-star general* of field, navy and air." The little girl answered in a serious tone like a grown-up and that beautiful round face was full of childly pride, fearing nothing. "You can just call me General. See!"

"General Elizaveta" was pulling something on her shoulder in smugness. Wang Yao didn't want to irritate "the General", so he refrained himself from laughing and looked towards her finger. There he found that "the General's" clothes was slighly different from other children—outside her nursery white coat tied a woman-style red scarf, just like a cape worn by those almighty generals in ancient times.

Wang Yao spoke Russian with Chinese accent and the little girl's accent sounded like central European. It was amazing that they could understand each other.

Wang Yao came to know that: "the General" just turned six this year; "the General's" parents were big heros in the Hungarian guerrilla troops; "the General" thought chocolates were more delicious than jam and would one day order the whole world's jam factories to start producing chocolates instead; "the General" was good at many different things, especially fortune-telling of love life; "the General" hadn't learned writing yet but could recite many many poems, especially the poem of the great Hungarian poet and soldier, Petofi.

"Because Petofi is my grandma's grandpa!" "General Elizaveta" proudly announced.

"Young man, please don't take it seriously." An older nursery staff walked by them, "Just two days ago, she said that Attila the Hun was her grandfather!"

"Auntie Vera, you should call me General Elizaveta." "The General" corrected her in all seriousness, then quickly turned back to Wang Yao, "That's okay. I will send out an order tomorrow so that Petofi will be my grandma's grandpa."

"I obey your order, General." said Wang Yao, mimicking her serious tone. He didn't think he was fooling a child. Maybe someone just got that magical power in them—they talked like grandiose fantasies in mythology that even though you knew the coarseness and difficulty of reality, you would willingly believe in everything they said. Like this self-important little girl; like his good friend Vanya…He couldn't see him at the moment but knew that he was in the cavalry base nearby.

"The General" was very moved and saluted him:

"I promote you to be my general! Everybody who obeys my order will be promoted!" "The General's" plump little hand pointed towards the campground, "You see, I already promoted General Feliciano, General Lovino and General Antonio. They were in the same nursery as me. Actually, Lovino never listened to me, but his brother General Feliciano cried and begged me. Ah, I had to!"

The six-year-old "General" pat her chest proudly. There was a delicate little pouch sewed there, seemed to hold things like some sort of juju.

"As part of the medal ceremony, I will tell your fortune with this juju. General Elizaveta is the best at love fortune-telling! "

*Five-star general: i.e. Generalssimus, supreme commander and highest military rank in Soviet army.