The definition of the word "big fish" covers a wide range, and specifically it can be divided into many types.
If you catch a big enough German official, such as a general, then it's definitely a big fish.
Or if you catch an important person, such as the commander of a group of Germans who are difficult to deal with, then this can also be called a big fish.
Listening to Varosha's slow introduction, and looking at the dejected German under the car in front of him, whose clothes were not very clean, and even his military cap was tilted, Malashenko naturally understood what was going on.
The situation must be the latter.
"Where did you catch him?"
Malashenko, half of his body hanging outside the turret, raised his hand and pointed at Varosha and asked.
"In the tank, or rather outside the tank, this bastard came out and surrendered on his own. The soldiers saw that he was wearing an officer's uniform, so they took him out alone and asked him. He said that he was the major battalion commander of the 505th Heavy Armor Battalion of the National Defense Forces, here.
In addition to his men, the German also has remnants of several other divisions, a motley collection of people. Hey! Repeat what you just said!"
Varosha, who also had an extremely hot temper, was naturally rude to the enemy who surrendered and was captured. Without saying anything, he just raised his leg and kicked the German guy on the butt. This gesture was very shocking to Malashenko.
It seems like kicking a lazy donkey in the production team.
"Major Commander of the Independent 505th Heavy Armored Battalion of the Wehrmacht, Schraun Bornstader, can I ask your name? You seem to be the commander of this group of people."
He started straight to the point, babbled in German. This German guy didn't even understand himself or knew whether he could speak German, so he just left it here and made his own decisions. This actually made Comrade Ma raise the corner of his mouth, and he couldn't help but
laugh.
People are in high spirits when happy events happen. Malashenko, who had just won a battle, was in a good mood at the moment. He didn't really care about these trivial things. He could give the German guy some face.
"The Major General Commander of Stalin's 1st Guards Tank Division, Dimitri Drukovich Malashenko, I think you Germans should be quite familiar with me. Oh, by the way, compared to horses
The name Rashenko should be more familiar to you as "Steel Butcher". Is it right to call me that? Huh?"
"...."
At first, I just thought there was some resemblance, but I couldn't be sure. When the man on the tank turret in front of me actually introduced himself and said his name, Major Schroun, who was already ashen-faced, just kept his hands raised in the air.
He smiled sadly.
"It seems that I guessed it right. It is indeed you. The portrait those people from the Propaganda Department printed for you is quite similar."
"......portrait?"
Malashenko was stunned when he heard this. He had never heard of a German printing a portrait of himself in the past. What the hell is this?
Perhaps seeing the surprise and puzzlement on Malashenko's face, Major Schraun, who was already indifferent to all kinds of things, asked himself, and then spoke to Malashenko again.
"If you don't know this is happening, Mr. Malashenko, you can ask your people to take the portrait out of the right pocket of my coat. I happen to have one with me."
"...."
Malashenko frowned slightly and looked at Major Schraun's face. Judging from his own experience, this guy should not be lying. It's just a portrait, so why is there any need to lie?
"Pocket on the right side, take out the contents and give them to me."
Varosha is a second-hand German speaker, and so far he can only understand and speak one or two simple sentences or vocabulary.
The conversation just now was beyond Varosha's understanding, so the division commander still needed to translate it into Russian and give him orders with gestures.
"The right pocket? Didn't you two search him just now? Is there anything left?"
With doubts, Varosha stepped forward and began to pick out the German guy's pockets. The two escorting soldiers behind him looked a little panicked. They were obviously worried that they had missed something and would get into big trouble if they didn't find it.
"What the hell is this... uh, a poster???"
Taking out the contents of his pocket and stretching out his hands, Varosha placed it in front of him for review. Varosha discovered that it was actually a poster with a large portrait of a human head, and a bunch of German bird language words on it.
.
It didn't look like anything special, just like the pictorials that could be found everywhere and posted on the walls after destroying German strongholds and camps in the past.
It's just...it's just that the people in this painting, uh...how do they look a bit like our comrade?
"It's strange, Comrade Commander. I...I can't understand this thing. The person painted on it seems to be you..."
With confusion and confusion, he reached out to Malashenko and handed the thing in his hand. After hearing Varosha's words, Malashenko was actually able to make a close guess and confirm it, but he was still worried about the German.
I was very curious about what kind of ghostly creature I was painted into.
"I...I'm holding you in my mouth, why did you make your brother so ugly? These stupid Germans!"
Regarding this body that he picked up for free after time travel, Malashenko asked himself that although he was not as handsome as the Huaichun girls from the folks on the street, he thought about it day and night and could not sleep all night, but he was still a little worse than "Red Army Daniel Wu"
There is a long distance. But at least my brother has good facial features, is tall and handsome, and has a heroic spirit. He can be regarded as a well-known handsome young man from all over the country outside Moscow.
Why do these stupid German guys draw themselves just like those crazy celebrities? It feels like I could squat next to the pit at any time and spit out "Oli! Do it, brothers!".
"Forget it, it would be weird if these fascists could paint me so handsome. At least we can recognize him as a buddy."
After looking at the large portrait of a Soviet tank general wearing a uniform printed on the poster, Malashenko moved his eyes to the slogan printed on the poster.
"The enemy of the German people, the person who must be conquered by the Führer's army, the number one armored dog under the bandit leader Stalin: Malashenko..."
"Fuck you! Goebbels is a rotten-assed hermaphrodite who is very good at spreading rumors and slander. I'm just waiting for one day to kick your ass into four pieces!"
Neither the portrait nor the slogan were good things. While holding this thing in his hand, Malashenko began to think about other things related to it and then spoke again.
"This thing... did you issue it to the entire army? When did it start?"
Malashenko knew that he was famous and infamous among the Germans, but he never expected that things had developed to this extent. Looking at this situation, those Germans should hate him to the point where they would be peeled off and cramped.
Well, it's obviously necessary to find out when this poster started.