The Red Army tank crews assigned to each Allied vehicle crew are already in place, and each crew is looking for its teammates according to the corresponding grouping on the list. You ask me, I will look at you, the scene looks like
It was really lively, and in Malashenko's opinion, it was a bit like an early morning vegetable market in China.
"General, we are actually in the same crew!? This is great! It must be the luckiest thing that can happen to me today."
When Jack took the group list and saw that he was in the same group as Malashenko, he was so happy that he couldn't help but smile. It was as sweet as honey.
Seeing this, Malashenko didn't say much, he just smiled. It was certain that he didn't hate the American colonel now.
This guy with a somewhat flawed personality has not reached the level of "perversion" that makes people unable to understand. Compared with this, he is more like a good person who "treats people with courtesy and will get things done."
Malashenko was quite casual when choosing his crew, but since he liked Jack, he might as well bring him in with him. A relative acquaintance who had already gotten to know each other and was confirmed to be pretty good would always
It's much better than contacting an unknown stranger again.
It is worth mentioning that Malashenko, the "senior vehicle crew", received special attention from the Allied officer corps.
Except for Jack, who was brought in by Malashenko at his own discretion, the remaining two places for a total of four members of the crew had already been reserved in advance by the Allied Officer Corps.
One of them, Malashenko, was very familiar with him. He was the leader of the officer corps, Major General Charleson, who was born in an orthodox noble family.
As for the other person, his background is also very important. I heard that Patton personally asked him to come here by name, specifically to give him a back door, and obtained a valuable spot through connections. He is a 26-year-old major of the U.S. Army Armor Corps.
Moreover, this kid is an Italian-American, and his name is quite funny, called Nero.
But after all, he is not the Nero who shouts "Faq" and wields a giant sword and turns into a demon, nor is he the Nero with stupid hair on his head who shouts "Umm". This kid looks like a guy at the supermarket counter.
The cashier you collect and hand out plastic bags is so embarrassing that you can't tell what's so special about him, and you don't know how he managed to get into Barton's relationship.
In short, this is not important to Malashenko, and of course he is not interested in knowing.
"Okay, gentlemen, before we start, I want to assign each of us our duties in the crew, starting with me."
"Malashenko will be in charge of the vehicle commander, and General Charleson will be in charge of the gunner. Jack, please excuse me. I will leave the loader's job to you. The artillery shells produced by our motherland are very heavy. I suggest you be mentally prepared."
"As for Nero..."
Malashenko, who was holding a pencil and a writing board in his hand, cast his eyes on the young boy beside him, and the words he thought about for a moment quickly blurted out.
"The resume says that you were an armored driver before, and you have driven several models of Seven Brothers Coffin, Hell Cat and Xie Mantou. Apart from me, you have the most driving experience. I just leave this position to you.
This is a position that ordinary people cannot easily handle, so it all depends on you. Remember not to lead us into trouble."
Malashenko half-jokingly said a series of tank nicknames that made Nero sound half-understood. Based on his resume, he could probably guess what kind of vehicle the Soviet general's nicknames referred to. It was clear that this was not the case.
Unimportant, Nero then smiled and nodded at Malashenko.
"I understand, general, just leave it to me."
What Malashenko received was an active IS2 heavy tank that had obvious signs of use and was not new at all. It was temporarily borrowed from a certain Red Army tank unit.
As soon as Malashenko got into the tank that did not belong to him, he saw many traces left by the original crew at a glance.
A black-and-white photo of a young man and woman with bright smiles and a happy embrace was posted on the turret bulkhead next to the commander's seat. Malashenko turned back and saw the commander's seat.
In the linen bag hanging on the side, there were several pieces of bread wrapped in paper that had not been eaten or were simply unopened. There was even a small half bottle of vodka left inside.
If you look more closely, you can even find a few lemon grenades that were thrown in casually in the small storage box on the back of the turret head behind the seat but were obviously for emergencies. They are one of the most common gadgets on the Red Army infantry.
First, it is one of the few self-defense items that are light, easy to carry, and powerful when tank soldiers abandon their vehicles and escape.
"It seems that the original crew left in a hurry. They were not prepared at all. All their personal belongings were left in the car. I guess my car has been transferred as soon as I received the news. I don't know which one it is.
The unlucky guy in the army had his wife kidnapped."
Malashenko was thinking and muttering here. He checked the various equipment required for the commander's position and adjusted the commander's seat under his butt to adapt to his iron tower, which was basically outstanding among the Red Army tank soldiers.
He is of average height, so he can sit more comfortably and not be hunched over all the time.
Colonel Jack, who was standing next to Malashenko, spoke with an exclamation at this moment. His tone sounded no less than that of an ordinary American who saw the front page headline of the New York Times early in the morning that read "Stalin wins the election.
Taking office as the new President of the United States" is so exaggerated.
"My God, this... this thing is so heavy! Compared with it, our artillery shells are like children's toys!"
Looking back in the direction where the exclamation came from, Malashenko saw at a glance that Jack was holding a 122mm projectile with all his strength. Although he looked a little struggling, he was still trying to make a projectile.
The action of loading the latch seems to be to prove that he can do it and can do it.
Malashenko laughed when he saw this scene, and blurted out the words half-jokingly.
"Handle it with care, it's a 122mm full-caliber high-explosive grenade, and the fuse is set. If you accidentally hit it head-down on the floor, bang! All of us in the car will have to spiral up to the sky.
No scumbag can find that kind of thing.”
I don’t know if what Malashenko said is true. I think it might be to scare people, but I don’t dare to take it seriously. I don’t believe it at all. Who knows what is different about the Russian shells? Or should I just treat it as a reply?
It's better to take things seriously.
After trying to simulate the loading action and confirming that it was feasible and that he had the strength to do it, Jack placed the shell on the floor at his feet and breathed a sigh of relief, then raised his head and asked Malashenko.
"Why are these shells so short? General, is your propellant not enough?"