What made Malashenko speechless and surprised was not that the German army came out to attack him. This was one of the results that he had anticipated when he laid out the battle plan earlier.
What really made Comrade Ma say he couldn't believe it was that underneath Hill No. 239, there was an entire armored corps of the Wehrmacht, plus a heavy mechanized unit of the elite SS armored division, and the total number of tanks that could be cobbled together in his hands was actually
That's all?
Surprised, Malashenko turned around, looked around, and found that the total number of destroyed and abandoned German tanks in front of the position was only about forty or fifty.
This is exactly the number of tanks in an independent heavy armored battalion of the Wehrmacht. This is limited to this, and it also has to count the small number of Panzer IVs and crispy Panther 1s that can be regarded as make-up.
Naturally, such a mess of tank models and attack methods cannot be a fully-manned heavy armored battalion of the National Defense Forces.
Although the major in front of him has not yet said anything clearly, Malashenko can already come up with an inseparable conclusion after thinking about it carefully based on what the boy just said and the scene in front of him.
In order to do something for themselves, the Germans might not have gathered together all the operational tanks at hand and dispatched them all at once. They would use whatever they had, and use all the bad and good tanks at the same time.
This also explains why in the German offensive waves that came to attack us, there would be a strange situation like No. 4, Black Panther 1, Black Panther 2, King Tiger, Three Baldy, and No. 4 tank destroyer at the same time.
This was uncommon in the past.
Looking at the essence through the phenomenon, if the captive Major of the Armored Forces of the National Defense Force in front of him had not lied, the group of German thugs in front of him would probably be at the end of his rope and their skills would be exhausted.
"What else? What else do you know? It's more than that, right? What is your next move?"
Malashenko, who was unwilling to let it go, had just come to his senses and immediately kept asking questions. He looked at the major of the National Defense Forces in front of him and insisted on taking out all the ink in his stomach.
come out.
Malashenko's sudden change of expression was indeed a bit scary. He was already afraid of the 1.9-meter-tall Russian German major in front of him, and he trembled all over on the spot.
You must know that before he was captured, he was not a major and commander of a combat unit, nor did he hold a real power position such as a battalion commander. He was just a senior staff officer at the headquarters of the armored regiment, good at drawing maps, writing reports, and a few things.
Electronic communication technology can repair telephones, that's all he has.
I don’t know why I was sent to participate in the battle. I won’t tell you. He worked well as a liaison officer but was defeated and captured. After being caught by Maozi, he met such a ferocious 1.9-meter-nine idiot, Ram.
Major Stein really felt like crying now.
"I...I really don't know, Mr. Officer! If I knew, I would definitely tell you. Say anything, but I am just a small major staff officer. I don't usually participate in battles at all. What kind of bastard is the bad guy in our company?"
I don’t even know what’s going on here, how could I possibly know something so secret about the movements of the entire army?”
"You...you must believe me. I really didn't lie. Please don't kill me. I still have a wife and two children at home. I still have..."
...
Damn it! Isn’t this kid finished yet!?
Malashenko had seen the way captured German soldiers surrendered. He was really annoyed to death by such German soldiers who felt that they were about to be killed and were in a state of "persecution paranoia".
On the other hand, the occurrence of this situation of course means that there is really no money in the belly of this bad guy. In order to save his life, this kind of person will talk about everything, regardless of whether it is confidential or not.
It doesn't matter at all.
Malashenko, who had lost interest and patience, waved his hand. Not far away, two tall and thick soldiers from the Combat Engineer Battalion wearing helmets and armor immediately stepped forward and grabbed the German major by the collar.
He was dragged down like a dead dog.
The German sand sculpture dragged along in the mud, wailing and screaming all the way, really made Malashenko, who was thinking about important things in his head, extremely upset.
"I really brought it upon myself, damn it!"
Malashenko, who felt a little regretful about interrogating the German major, did not hesitate much and immediately turned around and walked away. He turned around and bumped into Iushkin and Artyom, who were walking towards each other.
"What are you doing here? Why was the German dragged away like a dead dog?"
Others may talk to Malashenko with considerable respect, or even a bit of awe. This is the case for most people in Stalin's 1st Guards Tank Division, but Iushkin and Malashenko have always spoken in a carefree manner.
It's like talking to your own brother.
"It's okay, the German guy can't spit out anything useful. You two go and pack up the car, ask people to come over to refuel, reload and get ready. I'm going to go find the political commissar. Someone comes to me and tells him that I
Where."
"..."
Looking at Malashenko's hurried away figure without looking back, Iushkin, who had no idea what was going to happen next, spoke to himself expressionlessly.
"Now we are refueling and reloading, but we still need to be prepared? It's almost dark in the afternoon, do we still have to fight?"
Fighting for a whole day is commonplace and has long been used to it. As long as the sky is still bright, it will be okay to continue fighting for seven or eight hours. What Iushkin is curious about is just whether there is any chance of action.
Is it difficult to play tank night battles in darkness?
"I don't know, but I heard the order from Comrade Commander, and I need someone to execute it. So take action, good brother."
Compared to Artyom's calm face, Iushkin, whose eyebrows couldn't help but twitch, was a bit sinister.
"...You are really an obedient baby. Your mother must love you very much."
"You are right about this. We have three brothers in the family, and I am the one who obeys my mother the most."
"..."
When Malashenko saw the person he was looking for, Commissar Petrov, who had just persisted until the end of the battle and gritted his teeth, was holding on to the table, holding a glass of water in his hand and pouring it into his neck, swallowing.
what.
"Ah, Comrade Commander, you are back. Sit over here. Sit down and talk."
Whether Malashenko had something to do with him or not, Commissar Petrov, who knew his partner's character well, could tell by looking at his face and eyes.
Similarly, Malashenko, who had just entered the civil engineering works of the forward command post, could also see two small white medicine bottles placed on the table not far from the political commissar's hand.
"You are taking medicine more and more frequently. Today is already the fourth time..."