They squeezed into the crowd with their guards and their own vehicle crews. The soldiers who were originally providing "humanistic care" to a few fallen Nazis turned around and realized that the comrade, the division commander, was here.
While they immediately retreated in an orderly manner, they still kept a close eye on those ungrateful naughty dogs, lest they suddenly rise up and injure their comrade, the division commander.
Malashenko did not wait too long. The captain in charge of on-site command immediately stepped forward and took the initiative to report to the division commander what had just happened here.
"Originally we were escorting the prisoners, comrade division commander, everything was fine. We disarmed these Nazis. After searching them, we escorted them down according to normal procedures."
"Unexpectedly, halfway through, a guy suddenly said that he couldn't walk anymore and his wound was bleeding. He begged us to treat his wound."
"I didn't agree on the spot. I just said to check first and see how the wound was."
"I didn't expect that as soon as I walked up to him and was about to take off the clothes from his wound, an SS bastard next to me immediately pounced on me like a mad dog, held down my hand and bit him! The soldiers came over to help me, stunned.
It was the butt of a gun that opened the mouth of this bastard scumbag."
"The soldiers were angry and decided to teach this crazy dog a lesson and teach him the principles of being a prisoner. However, you came over not long after the start."
"."
After listening to the story, Malashenko remained silent and glanced sideways at the SS soldiers who had been knocked to the ground and were still groaning in pain.
I found that the four people in this group were quite loyal. They were beaten and beaten by a whole class of Red Army soldiers, but they still hugged each other to keep warm. They gathered together and covered their heads to protect each other.
It's just that the soldiers were fighting more and more vigorously, and the more they fought, the more angry they became. With you, you bastards, biting like a mad dog, is this a premeditated gang crime? If I don't give you a straight sentence, it's really not good.
You don’t know how big the Red Army Iron Fist is, do you?
He confirmed that there was nothing unusual in the looks of the fallen SS soldiers looking at him, that is, the complex and contradictory looks of reluctance, hatred, and a little fear that were common to SS soldiers. It was no big deal.
Malashenko turned his gaze back and noticed that Comrade Lieutenant, who was caught off guard by a stray dog bite, was still bleeding from the bite on his right hand. It slid down from the little finger to the middle finger and then dripped to the ground.
, the injury is obviously not something that can be ignored.
"Go and take care of the wound. Be careful not to get infected. Your right hand is a soldier's most loyal comrade."
"Yes, Comrade Commander, then this is the place"
"Leave it to me here. Just come back to your team after you take care of the wound. I'll be responsible for informing your superiors. Go ahead."
Malashenko had already said this. Comrade Captain obviously had no reason to hesitate anymore and immediately went to treat the wound according to the order of Comrade Division Commander without saying a word.
After all, if he was really infected by the bacteria in the teeth of a Nazi mad dog and his right hand was disabled, then his career as a soldier carrying a gun and fighting in wars would probably be over, and he couldn't afford such a loss.
Watching the comrade captain leave, he ran to the nearby health worker to treat the wound first. Only then did Malashenko have time to turn around and quietly face the four SS soldiers who were "beaten into a huddle" on the ground.
Open your mouth.
"Take out your name, unit number and position, as well as your ID."
"."
The group of SS soldiers on the ground did not reply and responded with silence. Malashenko, who frowned, believed that these Nazis were deliberately looking for trouble.
You must know that your dressing up today is different from the past. At dawn in the morning, in order to attend the pre-war dress-up and award ceremony, you can't still dress in rags and "default skin" like a beggar.
It’s inappropriate after all, isn’t it?
I had no choice but to dig out the new tank corps major general uniform from my marching bag and put it on.
After the ceremony, he immediately went to the battlefield, preparing to start a killing spree. Malashenko, who had no time to change clothes, simply got into the tank wearing the regular uniform of a major general and commanded the troops to enter the battlefield until the battle was victorious.
The present now.
In other words, the few nags on the ground are not ignorant of Taishan, but they are helplessly watching a Red Army major general standing in front of them, pretending to be a show-off without saying a word.
It seemed that the beating just now was not enough, and the combination of fists and kicks with a gun butt was not enough to remember him.
"Ah--"
Malashenko raised his lips and sneered. He had no time and no need to spend time here and continue to spend time with these unscrupulous SS scum.
As long as these people are "marked", "professionals" will naturally serve them after they are escorted. If they don't do it themselves, these idiots will definitely pay the due price for their stupid behavior.
Thinking of this, Malashenko had lost interest in continuing to do anything. Just when he was about to give an order to say something, he noticed out of the corner of his eye that one of the four SS soldiers was saying something like this from beginning to end.
There was an indescribable look in his eyes that made people feel uncomfortable just by being looked at like that. He just kept staring at him.
"."
He paused his intention to give the order and turned around again. Malashenko, who was looking at each other, suddenly frowned. Details that he hadn't noticed just now suddenly came from the depths of his memory like a tide.
He stood there in shock for more than ten seconds without making a sound.
"We've met before, right?"
"In a small Russian village in 1941, do you still remember? There was an armored confrontation, a duel between the Type 3 assault gun, the Type 3 tank and the T34. The distance between them for the first time should have been much further than now."
"."
Malashenko has never forgotten what happened in 1941, nor has he forgotten the familiar face that matched up with the contents of some old photos in his past life memory in his later memories.
Malashenko never forgot that face from beginning to end. He was sure that he had seen it correctly and repeatedly checked it against his memory. However, he did not expect to meet someone with this face here again.
After all, according to the timeline of existing history, a person with this face should have already burped by now, the kind of burp that would make the grass on his grave two feet high and ascend to the sky.
But now, he appeared here, still alive in front of him.
This greatly increased Malashenko's interest, and at the same time he felt some inexplicable, let's call it "special surprises."
". It's really you! I remembered correctly, it turned out that the commander of No. 177 at that time was you! The notorious "Stalin Guard Captain" and "Iron Butcher" Malashenko!"
"ha!"
Unexpectedly, he was also recognized by the other party. Malashenko, who was indeed surprised, immediately smiled calmly and slowly and quietly squatted on the ground to look at the other party's eyes.
After confirming that the look in his eyes was exactly the same as the feeling in the old black and white photo, there was absolutely nothing wrong with it, and then the words he spoke slowly followed.
"It's better to see than hear once, the number one armored ace of the Nazi Waffen-SS, Michel Wittmann."