Malashenko, who looked doubtful, did not wait too long. The young girl, who was followed by two elderly people and holding her sister by the hand, quickly responded in the affirmative.
"Yes, comrade, the Germans gave us a little food, and then drove us out at gunpoint, keeping us as far away as possible."
In order to make her words more authentic, the girl, who was almost completely wrapped in burlap and shabby clothes, also carefully took out a few squares wrapped in yellow paper from the lining of her coat.
The shape of the object is obviously the dry bread cubes provided by the German army.
Malashenko looked at what was in the palm of the girl in front of him and smiled knowingly, and said to Iushkin who had jumped down from the turret and came to his side.
"It seems that those Germans are living a pretty good life, and they actually have extra bread to give to unrelated people."
Not knowing what Malashenko meant by these words, some timid girls just stood there holding a few pieces of precious food in their hands and were at a loss.
After the playful conversation with Iushkin came to an end, he immediately turned his head again, and Malashenko, whose expression had returned to its original state, spoke again.
"Don't be afraid, girl, the food is yours, even if it's what the Germans gave you."
After hearing Malashenko's assurance, the girl gradually loosened her grip and carefully stuffed a few pieces of bread back into her pocket. Then she waited for Malashenko's follow-up words.
"May I have your name?"
"Vera......"
"Vera?"
Pondering over this unusually nice and catchy name, Malashenko nodded quickly and spoke again.
"That's a nice name, Vera. But now I need you to answer some questions for me, some questions about the Krauts who kicked you out of your home."
He guessed something from the kindness of those Germans who were able to give some conscience food to the refugees in front of them. Malashenko, who needed to confirm this, immediately blurted out his guess.
"What do those German uniforms look like? Are there any obvious markings on their bodies? For example, are there any crooked markings on their helmets that look like musical notes?"
"Musical notes?"
Vera, who was not highly educated, had a hard time understanding the description Malashenko gave. After seeing this scene, Malashenko was unwilling to give up and described it with gestures for a long time. After almost using his hands and feet to describe it, Vera
Finally Vera figured out her problem.
"If that's the case, it seems that there are, comrade, those Germans do have the logo you described on their iron hats, and the uniforms are similar to what you said, but many of them are wearing the cotton-padded clothes of our Red Army. I'm sure I read it correctly.
.”
After hearing the supplementary answer from Vera, he couldn't help but smile knowingly. With these words, Malashenko was able to determine that the enemy in the village not far from him was the Grossdeutschland Infantry Regiment that had just arrived.
You can never go wrong with a distinctive unit identification seal.
"Okay, Vera, I understand. You can leave now, but you must be escorted by us."
Malashenko had already planned a safe retreat route for the ragged refugees in front of him. Looking back, Malashenko immediately raised his hand, raised his finger in the one o'clock direction behind him and spoke again.
"Go in this direction for about a kilometer, and you should be able to see another group of Red Army troops. I will contact them and tell them to take you and your family to a safe place. Once you see them, you will be safe.
, you can also drink something hot to warm yourself up, and remember not to go in the wrong direction."
The help from Malashenko was obviously unexpected for the young Vera. Vera, who had never expected to receive help from the Red Army soldiers, looked flattered.
"Comrade, but, but won't this cause you trouble?"
After hearing such a question, Malashenko smiled knowingly. He almost blurted out "serve the people" and chose to speak in a more tactful way.
"The Red Army is the people's Red Army, and it must be the Red Army that appears most promptly when the people need it. We just did what we should do, there is no need to worry, Vera."
Even though Malashenko had a calm expression on his face, as if he was talking about an ordinary matter, Vera could not help but feel a huge sense of gratitude in her heart.
"Thank you, comrade, can you tell me your name?"
Somewhat surprised by this slightly abrupt question, Malashenko blurted out immediately after thinking about it for a while and seeing nothing wrong with it.
"Malashenko, Dimitri Drukovich. Malashenko, lieutenant colonel commander of the 1st Guards Heavy Tank Breakthrough Regiment of the Western Front of the Red Army, I hope you can remember it if you are interested.
This long list of names.”
The smart blue Shuangmu remembered everything Malashenko had just said in her mind as her thoughts turned. Vera, who was full of gratitude for the man in front of her, suddenly stepped forward without any warning, opened her arms and gave Ma
Rashenko a soft hug.
"Thank you, Comrade Malashenko, I will never forget your kindness."
Malashenko was so surprised by everything that happened suddenly that his brain was temporarily shut down. It was not until Vera took her sister's hand and led her elderly parents back on the road to Moscow that she suddenly came to her senses.
"Hey, Comrade Commander! I think Miss Vera is attracted to you. This is the truth, I can swear to it."
After coming back to his senses, he caught Iushkin's evil smile and rubbing his nose with the corner of his eye. Malashenko, whose brain nerves came back online from the panic state, directly reached out and slapped him.
"Get in the car and save your nonsense for the girl you love later!"
Iushkin, who was clutching the back of his head and neck that was aching slightly from being slapped by Malashenko, and almost having his tank hat slapped away by Malashenko, looked very aggrieved.
"I just told the truth, do you need to hit me?"
"Are you still talking nonsense!?"
"Yes! Get on the train now, Comrade Commander!"
As the driver Seryosha performed a skillful operation for a while, he rose up again. Malashenko, who was still hanging his upper body half-slouched outside the turret, no longer had the feigned anger on his face just now, thinking back to the girl hugging him just now.
Malashenko seemed to have endless aftertaste.
"Damn it, what the hell is it that you suddenly want a woman at this time?"