Steel Soviet Union
Chapter 1093 Comrade Brigade Commander is on the front line
Division Commander Suvorov originally thought that Malashenko, who had traveled through the starry night and rushed for reinforcements, would order the troops to take a short rest and at least carefully test the opponent's defense situation before launching an assault.
But what Commander Suvorov didn't expect was.
After simply laying out the attack plan and working out a simple coordination plan, Malashenko, who had no intention of waiting any longer, grabbed the tank cap on the table and turned it over in the palm of his hand. Then push it on your head.
Without saying another word, he turned around, walked straight out of Commander Suvorov's forward command post, and strode away.
"Where is Comrade Malashenko going? What is she going to do?"
Malashenko left first, but fortunately, Lavrinenko, who came with him, had not yet left.
Looking at Mr. Suvorov, who was completely unaware of the truth and at a loss in front of him, Lavrinenko, who knew that this situation was somewhat special, immediately rubbed his nose and spoke with a smile.
"There is a famous saying in our 1st Stalin Guards Heavy Tank Brigade, um, or maybe a famous dialogue is more appropriate? Anyway, it means the same thing. Are you interested?"
The magnitude of the leap in thinking was indeed huge, and Commander Suvorov obviously could not react immediately, but this did not prevent Lavrinenko from continuing to speak with a smile.
"Every time this happens, in our 1st Stalin Guards Heavy Tank Brigade, if someone asks where the brigade commander is, of course, people in our brigade will rarely ask such questions, but there is basically only one fixed answer. "
"Comrade Brigadier is on the front line, it's that simple."
The position has been promoted to the position of brigade commander of such a large force. Logically speaking, Malashenko no longer has to lead the charge personally and go to crush the enemy. However, this is obviously not the case in the reality that is happening all the time.
From the beginning when he was just fighting for his life to this day, Malashenko's state of mind and even his entire thinking and consciousness have undergone tremendous changes in a subtle way. He is no longer the simple self he was before.
Malashenko, who inexplicably acquired a body with a soul from another world, does not have much "motherland" feelings for the regime and country on this land, but Malashenko did indeed communicate with those who came all the way to There are too many unresolved personal grievances to deal with among the Germans who committed murder and arson.
Because those Germans came specifically to this land to commit murder, arson, smashing and looting.
Malashenko, who has resurrected his life and walked through a new world in a different way, has lost too many things that he values so far, and some people have their own problems.
Malashenko, who traveled from a later life, had no intention of being cowardly, let alone retreating. He wanted to deal with these scumbags who were doing heinous crimes and still claimed to be noble and noble, and let them taste the home-brewed wine. Bitters are the only solution.
And you have to sit on the smoking ruins of Berlin and experience it in a Siberian labor camp before you can deeply reflect and confess your sins.
Malashenko never flaunts how noble he is, and only demands of himself according to the standards and common sense of ordinary people. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, and blood spilled three feet away will be repaid.
If you kill my brother, I will wipe out all the male members of your family! Don't even think about escaping disaster even if you put down your weapons. First think about what you can do to prevent yourself from becoming potato fertilizer buried in the ground. If you meet me, you'll be damn unlucky.
It is not a good thing to be driven by a strong sense of revenge, but Malashenko, who lives in such an involuntary era, is more willing to anesthetize himself in this way so that he can continue to move forward.
People must have a goal in life. People without goals live like zombies and lifeless.
Malashenko's ultimate goal is to one day sit on the turret of his car in the ruins of Berlin, light a cigarette, and blow a thick smoke ring into the sky above his head, where the gunpowder smoke still lingers. Say it in the most manly way.
"We have won! All my good brothers who have fought alongside me! Look, this is the victory I promised you! Listen, this is the song of our victory!"
The first tank battalion to arrive, led by battalion commander Kurbalov, had already entered the attack position and made final preparations. The soldiers of the Varosha Infantry Battalion who arrived with the tanks finally loaded their guns and pulled the weapons. Bolt and load.
The troops of the 9th Guards Airborne Division, who can't wait to continue killing the Germans, are also in place. Together with the Varosha Infantry Battalion, they will assist the heavy tanks, advance forward, and become the main force after the gap in the position is opened. And the first wave of vanguards with the enemy's bayonets red.
"Time's up, let's get started"
Malashenko, who was standing half-body outside the turret, glanced at his watch and muttered something in a low voice. From the artillery position in the distance behind him, a sound like an old-fashioned locomotive whistle pierced through the air, and was immediately accompanied by the rumble of heavy artillery. passed into the ears.
Division Commander Suvorov mobilized the last remaining artillery force in his hands. These Soviet field artillery units that had withstood yesterday's German air attack had already suffered heavy losses. At present, there were only a dozen 122 and 152 guns that could still launch artillery attacks.
This level of artillery firepower is obviously too shabby to put in such an important breakthrough direction, but it is better than having nothing at all. Malashenko, who has long been accustomed to fighting with the Germans in adversity, does not mind him. I can get some help, no matter how much.
The whizzing shells pierced the sky above our heads, exploding continuously on the German forward positions visible through telescopes, bursting out and spreading into balls of blazing fireballs, releasing the most primitive and powerful destructive power of the God of War, destroying the surroundings. Everything within the killing radius.
When the artillery fire preparations, which lasted only twenty minutes, came to an end, Malashenko put down his binoculars and looked behind him. A whole battalion of vehicle commanders and soldiers standing outside the tank were waiting. They all stared at themselves, and the microphone they held tightly in their hands immediately raised their hands to their mouths, and spoke again in the same firm tone as before.
"Crush those fascist fanatics into the soil and turn them into farm fertilizer! The 1st Stalin Guards Heavy Tank Brigade attacks the enemy! Ula!!!"
The German troops, who also woke up early in the panic of the war, had just been bombed. They ran out of the bomb hole bunker with their front legs. Before they had time to gain a firm foothold, the German troops felt the clear sound coming from the air with their back legs. A terrible tremor came.
"Russian heavy tanks! Frontal! They are coming!!!"
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