[color=fff200]“Whew, my leg is stoned.” [/color]

Said the young Vietnamese as he struggled to stand after hours of being stuck in one spot inside a truck. He could not move nor stand, due to the cramped space that he was given. But thankfully, all of that was over now, as he had arrived at his destination. It was a small depot, nothing more, nothing less, but it was packed with faces. Most of them were Russians, while some bore different nationalities, many from different walks of life. But there was one thing, one small thing that all brought them together, which was known to Thanh under the name ‘Squad 914’

They all gathered in a straight, orderly line, around 30 in total, in front of a small podium, as a tall commander soon took it. His voice was clear and loud, yet less grand and more simple, which pretty much suited his taste. Not that he hates nobles but they usually talk in a manner that he found it difficult to understand. Just blame the poor fate that was bestowed upon him for being born in a poor rural family.
 
After the briefing, the Asian man left to receive the order from the officers. He had noticed that Thanh was wearing one of the gilet that was granted to him as a gift from the Vietnamese soldiers that he once worked with, along with some other folks, who were looking at him. Thanh was in no position to be surprised, as a sight of a small Asian among an army of Europeans would be strange. But no bad intentions were in those gazes, as they knew that the Vietnamese were one of their allies, tied together by an invisible but strong bond for the last two decades. So the young Thanh couldn’t help but take a little pride in serving here.

After receiving the order, Thanh looked at his wrist watch. It was only 0800, so he had plenty of time. He looked around, to see if there is any other fellow Vietnamese who was in the squad with him. But unfortunately, he found none. He couldn’t even found an Asian not to mention an individuals from a small country like him. But as he looked around a bit more, he had noticed a rather familiar sight. A blonde man with a hollow beard, whom he had seen a couple of times at the defense of Kursk. He hadn’t gotten many chances to know him, due to their circumstances being a little tight around the time. Now that they had met, it wouldn’t be a bad thing to initiate in a friendly chat with him.

[color=fff200]“Good morning. I am Thanh, a former member of the Vietnamese detachment. I believe that we have seen each other at some times during Kursk. I wonder if you know.” [/color]

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