There are 16 brand-new IS6 improved heavy tanks, plus this batch of 76 rounds of 122 mm gun discarding sabots with impressive accuracy. In addition, there are also a batch of battlefield upgrades for the existing ordinary version of IS6 heavy tanks.
Protection kit.
This is all the "new stuff" that Polyshev brought to Malashenko.
You can't be too dissatisfied with too little. In fact, it is "earth-shaking" to receive so many new gadgets at once, but there are so many regrets that I am still speechless.
There is no is7 and there is no stable and reliable armor-piercing shelling projectile. These two cruel realities that can be equated with badness always make Comrade Ma unhappy. I want to complain about something, but I don’t know where to start.
During the meeting, we could only leave it at that and say "it's okay".
Polyshev and his party waited until nightfall before setting off. They only dared to march at night because of the Red Army troops deployed on the Belarusian border in recent times. This was not because they were afraid of German air raids or anything, it was just that
It was just a matter of secrecy before the launch of the battle, to prevent the Germans from discovering the large-scale mobilization of Red Army troops.
Not only was the large-scale convoy march moved to night, but even the telegraph silence regulations were strictly enforced. The Germans could hardly detect any useful information on the actual control line on the Belarusian border, nor could they detect the large-scale night march of the Red Army troops.
transfer.
The secrecy before the launch of Operation Bagration was taken to the extreme, and the Germans would soon face an unforgettable nightmare lesson.
"The cannons will be fired in five and a half hours. Are you sure you don't want to go get some sleep?"
Malashenko still stayed up late at night and sat at the table, holding a pamphlet in his hand and reading attentively. The political commissar who would be on duty tonight looked at his watch and spoke to remind him, for fear that Comrade Senior would forget the time.
"Huh? Ah, it doesn't matter. I took a long nap in the afternoon. I have to finish reading this quickly, lest I don't know anything when I need it on the battlefield after dawn."
What Malashenko is holding in his hand is actually a summary of details and test data that Polyshev handed him along with this new product.
In addition to the specific parameters and testing conditions of new tanks, new ammunition, and new armor, there are also some details that were not mentioned to Malashenko during the day's introduction. For example, this new improved is6 heavy tank has its own
The name is: is-6m heavy tank.
"Hmm... As expected, the name is very unique."
Having an m after the name is almost a hallmark of all improved Soviet and Russian tanks from the Cold War and even modern times. The name is-6m is not surprising in the eyes of Comrade Ma.
But it was only then that Malashenko suddenly remembered that something seemed to be missing...
Well, I remembered it! The heavy infantry fighting vehicle modified by Morozov based on the T43 chassis has not been moved yet. There is no news, and there is no real vehicle sent to him. Malashenko guesses that he really needs to use it.
You may have to wait a while to get this thing.
"Hey, maybe I think things are too simple? It doesn't seem to be easy to get new equipment even if you enable it."
Malashenko closed the booklet in his hand and threw it on the table. While rubbing the corners of his tired and sore eyes, he touched the cigarette case on the table and took another cigarette into his mouth.
"It's been dark since then and I've already finished one box. What's wrong with you tonight?"
Faced with the concerns of his political commissar comrades, Malashenko seemed nonchalant.
"It's nothing. Aren't I always like this before every war? If I can't come back this time, I won't be able to smoke in the future. My life is unknown. Who cares how harmful this thing is to your health."
What Malashenko said is the truth. In fact, this is also the true thought in the hearts of the vast majority of Red Army soldiers at the moment.
If you want to talk about the harm of smoking to your health in the peaceful 21st century, that's fine. There is definitely a market for this kind of topic.
But if you talk about this stuff on the battlefield to a group of big-headed soldiers who tuck their heads in their waistbands all day long, dance on bullets, and lick blood on the tip of their knives, you will not only be regarded as a fool or idiot, but also the kind of person who has nothing to do.
, there is basically no other possibility.
Whether you can survive or not is unknown. It may not take long for a bullet or artillery shell to kill you. In this case, who will care about your health and stay healthy on the battlefield? Pure nonsense!
Of course, Comrade Political Commissar also understood this truth. Seeing that Malashenko had no intention of answering directly, he stopped asking more questions and started busying with what he was doing.
After a while, Comrade Ma, who felt extremely sleepy, finally put out the cigarette butt in his hand, stood up unsteadily from his chair, and turned around.
"I'll go and stare for a while. Wake me up twenty minutes before the cannon fires. I'll leave the division headquarters to you. I'll lead the people to fight the first wave of charge. I won't be at ease if I don't go there myself."
Comrade Political Commissar was still flipping through the report in his hand, and the answers he blurted out were so routine that he didn't even raise his head.
"I know, just like usual."
Malashenko developed a habit, a habit he only developed after traveling to this different world.
When you need a rest, you can fall asleep immediately. It's like having a sleep switch in your head. You can fall asleep immediately by pressing the switch, without any confusion or insomnia.
When he needs to stay awake, Malashenko can still stare as big as a cow's egg even if he hasn't slept for three days and three nights. He is even more beautiful than a beautiful girl with two-dimensional light bulb eyes, but it's just that
This is a three-dimensional armored man.
Boom boom boom——
Volleys of roaring artillery fire from the Third Belarusian Front tore through the dawn night sky. 122, 152, 203. The roar of Katyusha was extremely loud. The sound of the shelling could be called a world-shaking roar of heavy artillery fire. It could make the air
It burns and the earth trembles.
Although I have experienced similar scenes countless times, I watched the Katyusha barrage volleys roaring across the night sky above my head like a meteor shower, and the roar of various heavy artillery volleys mixed with them.
At this moment, Malashenko swore that he could still feel the incomparable shock. This was the most powerful field artillery group on the planet.
"Being blown up to the sky in your sleep will save you a lot of pain. Let's go on the road with gratitude, fascist thieves."
The preparations for the mighty and earth-shattering first-level artillery fire of the front army lasted for a full hour. When the first golden ray of the rising sun finally shot out on the horizon in the distance, Malashin was already holding the radio transmitter in his hand.
Ke immediately pressed the button and shouted the order that all the commanders and soldiers in the division had been waiting for.
"Attack on Fascism! Stalin's 1st Guards Tank Division, start charging!!!"