The 60-ton IS4 heavy tank was swaying on the bumpy off-road road. The roar of the powerful diesel engine made the tank tremble like an electric shock. Before crossing, I grew up in the countryside.
Malashenko, who was lucky enough to ride on a tractor, swore that the feeling of sitting on a tank these days was not much better than riding on the back of a tractor.
Especially when the IS4 is driving on the current muddy off-road road, the feeling of large mud splashes rolled up by the tracks, coupled with the feeling of the swaying itself, is really indescribably weird.
Malashenko thinks this can be described as the feeling of sitting on an electric rocking chair, a toy that little kids play with coins?
That may be the case, Malashenko had never ridden in this thing before traveling through time.
Anyway, this weird feeling now is something you can't put your finger on. The tank walked, paused, walked, paused, and then was mixed with the strong dull feeling of being hugged by the mud. The two hands were pulling on the turret.
On the top armor, Malashenko, half of his body outside the tank, sighed. Not many people would like the feeling of racing a tank in the mud.
"Heavy tanks are not as good as they should be at times like this, but the medium tanks are more impressive. Look, those T34s and T43s run so fast, we look like old men when we compare them."
Looking in the direction of Iushkin's finger, Malashenko could see a marching column of medium-sized tanks composed of T34 and T43, running at full speed on the track on the same bad mud road.
Just like Iushkin said, the speed was almost lightning-fast compared to the broken vehicle under him. The other IS6 heavy tanks accompanying his division commander's command vehicle were also not much better, trapped in the mud.
The pace that could have been used to gallop at high speed became as slow as an old donkey cart.
If this momentum continues, the medium tank units will definitely be the first to engage the enemy. This can be seen now and there is no mistaking it.
In the past, Malashenko would have been worried about the medium tanks being deflated, but if he is still worried about this now, it is purely a matter of taking the carrot first and not worrying about it.
Even if the Skeleton Division is capable of fighting, it will not be able to cause too much trouble in a short period of time. What the medium tank unit has to do is not to kill how many Germans or how much damage and damage it inflicts on the enemy. It is to rush up and wrap around the enemy's tail.
Keep as much as you can so that these German thugs can no longer run away so neatly.
Next, is the final moment when the heavy tank troops arrive and stage a life-and-death strangulation.
The Germans can cut off their tails to survive, leaving some of the rear troops behind and continue to flee.
But such a trick would not have many useful effects here with Malashenko. It would be easy to kill the German rearguards and kill the troops. On the contrary, each wave of attacks would be equivalent to a slow death for the Germans.
This only delays the final moment of destruction, and the countdown to death continues without stopping.
Whether you recognize this or not is up to the Germans, but the existing facts cannot be changed by human subjective will.
Thinking of this, Malashenko, who already had a set of tactics in mind, immediately bent down and retracted into the turret, took off the radio transmitter hanging next to him and pressed the communication button.
"Lavery, just like last time, you bring a group of medium tanks to lead the battle. Just rush up and entangle the Germans and hold them back. Don't chew the bones. You know what I mean, and be careful not to
Send it in yourself."
Lavrinenko's personality is very similar to Malashenko's. They both have a habit of saying what they say directly and doing whatever they want when they do.
The only difference is that Malashenko, who carries more things on his body, now has to think more, but this still does not prevent Malashenko from reminding his best friend and good brother to be careful.
"You don't actually need to say this, you just need to tell me what to do. When did I fail to complete the task?"
Listening to the familiar reply with the electric sound coming from the radio, Malashenko, who knew what Lavrinenko's expression was probably like now, just smiled.
"Be careful, my brother."
"the same as you."
Snapped--
After hanging up the radio, Malashenko straightened up and got out of the turret again. He was about to say something to Iushkin but before he could speak, he heard a sudden whistling sound coming from behind him.
Woo——
"Hmm? Aren't these guys sleeping in today? They are so diligent."
The whistling sound that could fly from the direction behind him was naturally not an artillery shell. What passed over the head of the entire marching army column was the long-awaited Il-2 attack aircraft group.
There were a lot of these war eagles, which the Germans horrifiedly called "Black Death." Malashenko, who looked up at the sky, just took a glance and saw a total of 12 IL-2s in the first echelon.
They were flying in formation. Behind them were other Red Army fighter planes, which were all black. The slightly smaller ones looked like they were part of a formation of fighter planes specially sent to escort them.
"It's full of rockets, and there must be bombs in the belly door... That's it, kill those fascist lackeys! Come on, airmen! Go to the brave Stalin Guards First Tank
Master, open the way! Ula!!!”
Perhaps it had been a long time since he had experienced such intensive air support. Before Malashenko could even say a few words as a leader, he first muttered silently, and then the majestic Iushkin grabbed him.
He took off the tank cap on his head, raised it high and waved it, while shouting loudly at the comrades in the sky.
It didn't matter if Iushkin didn't shout. This shout of "Ula" directly brought together several infantrymen sitting on the engine cover of Malashenko's vehicle, as well as the "tank knights" on other heavy tanks around him.
Scream loudly.
"Ula! Ula! Ula!"
"Come on, tear those fascists into pieces! Blast them to death!"
"Victory belongs to the Red Army, long live Comrade Stalin!"
The effect of a person's roar is like a spark falling into a powder keg, instantly igniting the explosion and setting off a roaring tsunami of high-pitched cheers.
The entire marching column soon turned into a boiling sea of cheers and shouts. The IL-2 attack aircraft group in the sky seemed to feel this highly infectious formation. While the low-altitude black shadow passed over the column, it turned slightly sideways.
The wings and fuselage were swung and tilted to a military salute in return. This air-to-ground cheering feast reached its climax in an instant.
Looking at the scene of high morale around him, even Malashenko, who had seen many similar scenes in various war blockbusters of later generations, could not help but take off his tank cap with a smile and look towards the expectant figures in the sky.
The long-awaited war eagles performed a casual military salute.