Seeing the German captain who was shot in the butt being treated by the Red Army medics who came after him, Malashenko, who had nothing more urgent to do, immediately jumped down from the turret and strode
Arriving at the center of the intersection where corpses lay scattered on the ground, he began to admire his masterpiece with his hands on his hips.
"This killed at least nearly a battalion of Germans, Comrade Commander. I have never seen such a high density of German corpses in one place. Are they crazy? Only those dozens of people must die.
Surrender? That wasn’t the case before.”
Iushkin, who followed Malashenko's steps and emerged from the turret, was amazed. This was indeed the first time he had seen such a scene.
"This is normal, Iushkin."
I don’t know since when, Malashenko didn’t feel the slightest nausea even if he smoked among the piles of corpses, just like having a cigarette in his mouth when going to the toilet.
After handing a cigarette to Iushkin next to him, and then lighting up the fire for himself and Iushkin respectively, Malashenko puffed away happily and then continued to speak.
"Not only do we know that we are finally close to victory, but the Germans now also understand that they don't have much time left. It is only a matter of time before the Sixth Army is completely annihilated."
"When people are desperate, they are willing to believe in the good things they place their hope on, and the same goes for Germans."
"If I guessed correctly, these Germans must still be counting on their offensive master, Marshal Manstein, to save them. Although it sounds ridiculous, it is the fact."
"In order to gain a glimmer of hope of survival, these Germans will definitely fight us to the death. Do you believe it? If the army led by Manstein is destroyed or retreats, the Germans in the city will immediately lay down their weapons.
Surrender to us."
Malashenko's words are indeed a bit obscure and difficult to understand for indigenous people in this era who are not particularly knowledgeable and have limited thinking.
Even though Iushkin was a high-level talent who graduated from the Tank Corps Academy, it took him a while to realize what Malashenko's call meant.
"I think I roughly understand that these German guys are like drug addicts now, and Manstein and his army are like the drug addicts that these German guys in the city can never get, but are close at hand.
Is that so?"
""
After hearing Iushkin's understanding, Malashenko was a little surprised. Even the cigarette in his hand trembled slightly with a smile that instantly appeared on his face.
"You're pretty good at describing it! But that's probably what it means."
Malashenko, who continued to walk with Iushkin among the dead, soon came to the edge of the crater that the German captain had mentioned.
He gently flicked the cigarette butt in his hand and stretched his head into the pit to take a look. An expected half-headed corpse came into view immediately.
His face, which he could no longer clearly see what he looked like, was covered in a large lump of bloody and sticky substance, and even the brain tissue in the remaining half of his head was roughly exposed, dripping with blood.
The sight of his eyeballs blown out and only half of his nose remaining was really horrifying. Looking at this scene, Malashenko couldn't help but shake his head slowly.
If possible, Malashenko even wants to bring those fools from the future generations who say that full-power rifle bullets have no cavity effect when hitting people, and often shoot two eyes with one shot, across time and space to see with their own eyes. This is what you call no cavity.
Cavity effect, one shot, two eyes?
"I don't know who fired this shot. I don't remember that there were snipers among the infantrymen we just brought."
Iushkin, who also witnessed the corpse of the German major in the pit, curled his lips. He could guess which master should have fired the shot.
"I heard that Captain Varosha has a very powerful bearded sniper. He is said to be from an old Orion family in Siberia. He is already in his forties."
"Originally, he was not suitable to join the army, but this stubborn old man insisted on coming to the front line to show the Germans how powerful they are. He also vowed to kill the Germans like wild wolves. The first battle this guy fought was against Stalinger.
During the Battle of Stalingrad, no one expected that this stubborn old man would be so powerful. He was on the list of snipers throughout Stalingrad."
Iushkin rarely told stories. Although he did talk a lot, he mostly liked to talk nonsense. Malashenko felt a little strange when he suddenly heard Iushkin telling other people's stories.
"Interesting, how did you know?"
"Me? I met an infantryman who was defecating last night. It was dark and I couldn't see what he looked like, so we just squatted there and chatted together. He told me."
""
Malashenko has become accustomed to Iushkin's second son, just like a man who shovels shit has become accustomed to his second wife destroying a house.
"So you guys just squat there, shit, and brag? Do you even smoke together while smelling shit?"
"Um?"
The surprise on Iushkin's face did not look like he was pretending.
"How do you know? Were you shitting behind my back?"
"I"
I have a fucking brain disorder to shit with you, a stupid idiot like you!
Malashenko, whose face was full of black lines, turned and left with strong complaints in his heart, ignoring Iushkin who still had a serious look on his face.
One thing to say is that Malashenko really feels that the people around him, even Commissar Petrov, are moving closer to behaving like future generations. Is this his own illusion?
?
Of course, Comrade Brigadier did not know that all this was caused by his own influence, and it was subtle and difficult to detect in a short time.
Malashenko, who kept walking towards his car, took off the black leather gloves on his hands as he walked. Wearing these in winter can indeed keep out the cold, but when the gloves become sweaty, it becomes a problem again.
It's uncomfortable to cover. It's like putting your hands in a low-temperature steamer to steam buns, or like boiling a frog in warm water. In short, the breathability is almost non-existent, and the experience is extremely poor.
Malashenko, who freed his hands and went outside to feel the fresh air, had just returned to the car when he accidentally saw Captain Varosha talking to a man with a big beard on his face and carrying a rare Mozambique gun behind his back.
Veteran conversation with the Sinagan sniper rifle.
This slovenly bearded veteran looks slovenly. He probably hasn’t cleaned his body in half a year. However, from the appearance alone, he looks very much like the person Iushkin mentioned just now. Out of curiosity,
Malashenko then changed direction and walked over.