Killing the first SS tank was just the beginning. More SS lunatics who turned a blind eye to the death of their comrades were rushing towards Malashenko's position.
The surging SS attacks were getting higher and higher one after another. The position that Malashenko personally led and held seemed to be shaky in the wind and rain, but it stood firm despite wave after wave of crumbling.
"Comrade Battalion Commander! Fascist's tanks are coming!"
Varosha, who was squatting in the trench with his head bowed, was reloading the Bobosha in his hand. Major Varosha, who had already emptied two drums one after another, had only the last reserve drum left. If this one was emptied again,
He would have to think of some way to get bullets, or simply throw away the Bobosha in his hand and use another weapon.
Before Major Varosha could react after hearing the sound, the roaring SS tank had already crashed into his face, making a roaring sound.
Feeling that the trench walls around him and the ground beneath his feet were shaking, and the bullet casings on the ground were beating constantly. Realizing that something was wrong, Major Varosha hurriedly shrank down again, and at the same time subconsciously raised his head towards
He glanced directly above his head and saw that the chassis of a German tank, which had picked up large amounts of mud as its tracks were speeding, was slowly passing in front of him.
"Hey! Varosha, get down quickly, don't raise your head, be careful!"
The old friend Oleg, who was more than ten meters away from Major Varosha, saw this dangerous scene and hurriedly waved his hands down to signal Varosha not to raise his head too high to avoid being crushed into iron by the German tanks.
Slices of meat.
But it was at this moment that Major Varosha had not waited for any reply.
Oleg, who was only worried about his old buddy, didn't notice at all that a tall SS soldier holding an MP40 suddenly appeared on the ground outside the trench beside him.
By the time Oleg reacted, it was already too late. The white-faced, blue-eyed SS soldier with a ferocious expression had already taken the lead in raising his weapon.
Da da da da da da——
A burst of long bursts of fire that was more violent than usual during a firefight suddenly sounded. His eyes in disbelief subconsciously looked down at his body that was instantly beaten into a sieve. Then, like a sandbag, his life force was rapidly drained.
He fell face to face and fell into the trench that was so close in front of him, making a rumbling sound.
"Huh...huh... Damn it, you damn fascist bastard! Clean the toilets for your Kaiser!"
The angle at which the corpse fell was somewhat impartial, and it happened that he tilted his head and hit Oleg on the top of his helmeted head.
The moment the two Soviet-German helmets collided, there was an immediate clang. Even Oleg, who was a little dizzy from being hit by the weight of more than a hundred kilograms on his head, took two steps back and leaned on the trench behind him.
He stared at the strange-looking German corpse in front of him with lingering fear and cursed for a while, then turned his attention to the place where the gunfire had just sounded.
"There's no next time, be careful!"
Although they were far apart and had no direct exchange of words, Oleg did read such a flavor that he could believe in from the words of his old friend Varosha.
It was Varosha who shot in time to save himself, before the German tank above him could completely run over him.
He was worried about Varosha, but was saved by Varosha. Oleg's gasping with lingering fear gradually turned into a silly smile. Oleg was very happy. He immediately adjusted his mentality and picked up the submachine gun that he accidentally dropped on the ground.
After shouting, he immediately rushed towards the nearest enemy who had jumped into the trench.
This wave of SS armored charges was so crazy that they completely ignored the direct interception fire organized by Malashenko, and just pushed forward crazily and responded with the minimum suppressive firepower. The target was very clear and only
One: Rush into position as quickly as possible at all costs and engage in close combat with the enemy.
Because of this, even though Malashenko, who was coordinating the overall command of the battle, had ordered all-out fire and prioritized intercepting enemy tanks, he could not stop the SS soldiers who had taken the wrong medicine from charging at all costs.
There were many SS tanks that were beaten into flaming balls in front of the position, but more SS tanks had already rolled onto the position and broke into the restricted area. Even the elite armored SS tanks were following closely behind.
The grenadiers have already jumped into the trenches.
Just fifteen minutes after arriving on the battlefield and entering the battle, the situation Malashenko faced had already turned into a close-quarters fight in which both the enemy and ourselves had to face huge casualties.
This was obviously an unfavorable situation for the Soviet heavy tank troops, which had strong armor and sharp artillery, long-range guaranteed firepower and strong protection. How long the infantry, which was far smaller in number than the SS, could hold on, was a huge problem.
At this point in the battle, Malashenko finally understood.
These old SS veterans who had already fought against them once had obviously figured out the true identity of this extremely difficult old opponent.
A mistake that has been made once cannot be made a second time. One time is enough for useless work. If it is made a second time, you are really an idiot and completely unworthy of the name of this elite unit of the armed SS.
So this time, knowing how perverted the armor of the Russian steel monsters on the opposite side was, the SS armored soldiers directly changed their tactics and no longer played the useless "mid-gate sniper". They chose to lose a lot of money, but the advantages in the later stage were significant.
Increased melee charge.
First, they broke into the Soviet defensive position and opened a hole. The Soviet heavy tanks, which had been forcibly shortened from the fighting distance, were unable to focus their fire in one direction. They had to face enemies rushing up from all directions and fire in all directions, further dispersing the already insufficient firepower.
.
Including the armored grenadiers who accompanied them into the position, with the same chips, they can be more certain to completely crush the enemy's defense and disintegrate the position. The art of war command lies in this, even though this is only a company.
As an enemy, Malashenko can see through the little tricks and tactics at a glance.
But sometimes, the simpler the trick, the more difficult it is to crack and the more powerful it is when supported by a disparity in strength.
It's like at this moment, although Malashenko can see through his opponent's tricks, he still has to be in a passive position and sees the tricks, without any initiative at all.
"Don't let the German tanks get close to us! Keep a distance from them, adjust the course, reverse the vehicle, and open fire!"
Malashenko knew very well what it meant for a heavy tank to be flanked by a medium tank. Even with the blessing of an electric steering gear, it would definitely not be able to compete with the smaller German tank that was racing all the way around in a small circle. This was not true for those with thick side armor.
The IS2, which is far less perverted than the IS6, is even more deadly.