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Chapter 2236 Do you think the Germans will surrender?

Chapter 2236 Do you think the Germans will surrender?

"Do you think the Germans will surrender? It feels like fraud to me. They still have so many people and they want to surrender now. This is not their style."

Taking advantage of such a short rest period of a few minutes, not only Malashenko, but also the other guys in the car climbed out of the car and took the opportunity to get some air. After all, it was full of engine oil smell, sweat smell, and fart smell.

It's really not a pleasant smell in a closed space inside a car.

Iushkin, who was leaning on the side of the IS7 car, was lighting his cigarette. By the way, he said nothing to the horse beside him who was holding a telescope and observing the German situation on the opposite side, which was not too far away.

Rashenko's nagging is in line with Malashenko's assessment that he "talks nonsense on the battlefield", which is always the case.

"I don't know, but it doesn't matter."

"Whatever they want, the initiative is up to us. As long as we want, we can copy the guy and crush them at any time. Now it is just for the best for everyone to give them a chance. Of course, this is the only time.

"

As Malashenko said, the reason why they are willing to temporarily cease fire is that both sides take a step back to maintain a certain appropriate distance and take a breath. This does not mean that Malashenko is sick of mercy or that the leader of the division cannot attack. The offensive

When the energy is exhausted, you need to take a short rest and regroup before attacking again.

Malashenko just thinks that if we can really end the battle with reduced casualties to a certain extent and avoid unnecessary subsequent battles that can't change the outcome, then we don't have to take off our pants and fart - it's unnecessary and finish the fight as soon as possible.

Wouldn't it be nice to call it a day? Siberia's potato farming industry happens to have more than 10,000 more laborers. There is never too much free hard work.

Oh, to be precise, this is called "labor transformation to participate in socialist construction", which is completely different from the traditional Western capitalists' exploitation of hard labor, which is indeed the case.

Malashenko and Iushkin were standing next to the tank smoking cigarettes and chatting. Artem and Sergey, the loaders and deputy loaders in the car, were busy sorting out the semi-automatic ammunition that had been consumed in the battle.

The ammunition is ready to be fired in the machine, and the backup shells in the ammunition storage rack in the car are transported and sorted into the semi-automatic loader to prepare for possible battles in the future.

"Here, give me a hand and continue!"

"Seryozha, hand over the warhead you have and do me a favor."

In the car were not only the loaders Artyom and Sergey, but also the driver Seryosha who was also helping.

Artem and Sergei stood at their respective posts, one on the left and one on the right, responsible for stuffing propellants and projectiles into the semi-automatic loader, while Seryosha was responsible for delivering projectiles and propellant cartridges to the two men.

Thanks to the fact that being a driver of a Soviet tank is not only a technical job, but also a physical job. The rear-mounted power layout of the transmission system makes every Soviet tank operate a mechanical linkage that runs across the bottom of the vehicle and is connected to the power compartment at the rear of the vehicle.

As for the driving system, you can imagine how laborious it is to manually control such a long mechanical linkage to control the transmission system without external assistance.

This also happened to allow Seryosha, a veteran driver with experience in driving many types of heavy tanks, to develop a pair of unicorn arms that are as good as those of the two loaders. Helping carry the shells is just a trivial task without blushing.

Seryozha, who was out of breath, could even hold a cigarette in his mouth, exhaling fairy spirit while working, looking very leisurely and at ease.

"I let this boy Iushkin escape again. He is the fastest every time I work. This cunning guy."

Artyom, who had been familiar with Iushkin for a long time, complained skillfully, "It is true that the shrewd deputy commander and gunner comrade Iushkin likes to be lazy when carrying artillery shells. It has become a habit.

It was like this almost every time, but with a cigarette in his mouth and a 130mm armor-piercing projectile in his arms, Seryosha put it on the turret basket and placed it at Artem's feet. He had other ideas.

.

"It's better to stop him from interfering. He has thin arms and legs, and he can't use much strength. The car itself is crowded, and if you bring him in again, the four of us working together will only create more chaos."

Stuffing the cartridge in his hand into the lower ammunition rack of the semi-automatic loader, Artyom turned around and squatted down while picking up the 130 mm armor-piercing projectile at his feet and hugging it, gathering strength to hold it in one breath.

He got up, and with a cigarette in his mouth, he spoke to Seryosha, who had turned around and continued to carry the shells.

"Having said that, this new car is good, and the automatic loader also saves the loader a lot of trouble, but I don't know if the problem of ammunition consumption being too fast and difficulty replenishing can be solved. If we can design a machine that can both

It would be better to have a loader that maintains the combat rate of fire and saves the trouble of loading. I don’t know if the designers and comrades can achieve it.”

"Maybe there will be tanks in the Red Army in the future, hehe, I just said casually, who knows~"

After chatting for a while, Artyom shouted a chant and instantly picked up the heavy 130mm armor-piercing projectile and prepared to load it. Seryosha, who had picked up a propellant cartridge from the other side, spoke immediately.

"Maybe there will be in the future, but Artyom, have you ever thought about one thing? If one day such a machine is actually installed into a tank, will you loaders have to lay off and retire?"

"..."

Artyom, who had just stuffed the bullets in his arms into the upper ammunition rack, was stunned when he heard this, but when he turned around and thought about it carefully, he felt that what Seryosha said made sense, and it seemed that this was really the case.

.

As he just said, if the machine can really do all the work of loading artillery shells, and there is still enough ammunition in reserve to maintain continuous high-intensity combat, I am afraid that the loader's "lay off and retirement" is really not an empty talk.

"Hey, I'm just talking, don't think too much. I don't think we can build such an advanced machine in ten or twenty years. If our brothers are still alive by then, I'm afraid they will have already retired. Those

It's all the business of others later, and it's not our turn to worry about it, so I want to be more open-minded."

Seryosha would be reassuring. After hearing this, Artyom, who also felt that he was overthinking, just smiled. The three brothers then continued to work, preparing to fill the last few vacant slots in the semi-automatic loader.

It's stuffed.

Outside the car, Malashenko, who had just put down his binoculars, frowned and looked unhappy. Iushkin next to him looked at this posture and asked out of curiosity.

"What's wrong? Is the German guy over there setting up a pot to cook shit? He sees you like this."

Malashenko flicked the cigarette butt in his hand and flew into the snow where he was extinguished. He was not in the mood to joke with Iushkin at the moment, and the answer he blurted out made Iushkin even more unexpected.

(End of chapter)


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