Steel Soviet Union

Hearing that the two people who were most important to him and the people he cared about most were okay, Malashenko's heart, which had been hanging all the time, even felt relieved for a moment.

The news that the brigade headquarters was taken away by those SS bastards was indeed bad, and the bad news that the communications director and chief of staff were dead and the other seriously injured was even worse.

But compared to these, Malashenko has no extra time to waste time at the moment. What is more important is to quickly find a way to get in touch with his superiors and reinforcements.

Malashenko, whose entire unit had lasted until the last moment, couldn't wait to know whether he still had any hope of continuing to fight. If the reinforcements delay and waste even a little more time, I may really have to bring a group of brothers to report to Comrade Lenin.

"Who is in charge of the current communications!? Where are the other members of the communications company? Are there any left alive!?"

The battlefield where gunshots and explosions occurred one after another was filled with all kinds of eardrum-exploding noises. Everything happening around him forced Malashenko to raise his voice to the loudest, like a lion roaring from the east of the river.

The guard company commander who was caught by Malashenko asking questions blinked his eyes. He needed some time to carefully analyze and identify what Comrade Brigade Commander said. A mortar shell exploded in his ears not long ago. His ears have been blown to the point where they can no longer be used very well.

"The remaining members of the communications company have gone into battle, Comrade Brigade Commander! The defense line just now was in emergency twice! The 9th Guards Airborne Division is in charge of the current communications. Their division headquarters is over there. Go We should be able to contact the outside there!”

The guard company commander, who was leaning against the trench with one hand covering the helmet on his head, raised his other arm and pointed towards Malashenko in the direction described in his words.

Looking in the direction of the guard company commander's finger, Malashenko immediately found a small house where half of the roof had been cut off by artillery shells at the focus of his eyes.

There were several wooden poles with antennas attached to them in the courtyard around the house, which was enough for Malashenko to confirm that this house was the one he was looking for.

"Valosha!"

"Here, Comrade Brigadier!"

Malashenko, who has always commanded tank operations, does not have any guard troops around him. Major Varosha knows this very well. From the moment of retreat until now, Major Varosha has led people to personally protect the tanks. Rashenko left and right.

So when Malashenko called out his name, Major Varosha, who was on standby not far from Malashenko, rushed over immediately.

"Take your troops and guard this place! No matter how crazy those fascist bastards are, you can't let them pass. Do you understand?"

"Understood! Comrade Brigade Commander!"

Malashenko, who patted Major Varosha on the shoulder, immediately stood up and started running towards the division headquarters of the 9th Guards Airborne Division, which was only a hundred meters away.

When Iushkin, Kirill, and Seryosha saw Malashenko leaving, they looked at each other and immediately followed Malashenko's footsteps.

Major Varosha felt relieved when he saw that there were people protecting Malashenko. Then he turned around and grasped the German MG42 general-purpose machine gun that he had been carrying in his hand again, opened the bipod and restarted. After setting up the trench in front of us, we immediately started shooting.

"Bullets! Get me some German machine gun bullets and bring me an ammunition hand. Quick!"

The SS, who had already approached within the last kilometer of assault range, were frantically unleashing firepower. The light mortars they could carry with them were held up to their noses, almost to the faces of the Soviet troops, and bombarded them constantly.

The continuous falling mortar shells exploded like raindrops, and Malashenko, whose ears were filled with the whistling and whistling sound of mortar shells, was like a rabbit.

On the one hand, one must try to maintain a coquettish position and keep one's body low to avoid being hit by bullets or shrapnel. On the other hand, one must keep an eye on all directions and listen in all directions to observe the surrounding situation to avoid being directly hit on the top of the head by a German shell.

Such cumbersome and cumbersome operations made Malashenko suffer a lot. Malashenko, who had always commanded the troops to charge into battle in a steel-framed tank, had almost forgotten the last time he was in such an embarrassing situation. When, it has definitely been a long time.

"Whoops I'll fuck you kraut!"

He ran like crazy all the way, bending his waist, and finally jumped under the cover of the courtyard wall with a flying dive. While leaning on the broken wall that was less than half a person's height, he gasped for air. Forgot to say hello to those damn krauts.

Holding his worn-out Somi submachine gun, he just took a few breaths when the three Iushkin men who were following Malashenko rushed over and fell down together against the wall. Next to Malashenko, Iushkin immediately asked questions while breathing rapidly.

"Do you think we still have hope? Will reinforcements be available in time?"

"If I knew, I wouldn't be here. It would be clear before I had time to ask."

Holding Somi in his arms, he took a final breath and put one hand on the ground. Malashenko, who stood up again after a carp beat, replied with a word to Iushkin, and then started running wildly again.

"Damn it, I haven't run as much as I did today in a month! Follow him quickly, let's go!"

The three of Iushkin hurriedly hurried behind, while Malashenko, who was at the front, was the first to fly forward, slamming open the door of the house with his shoulder and instantly entering the house without even saying hello. Take a beating.

"Don't shoot! One of our own is Brigadier Malashenko!"

Staggering into the room and raising his head, Malashenko realized that there were seven or eight Red Army soldiers in front of him who were picking up their weapons and aiming at him, or in other words, aiming in the direction of the door.

No wonder, if the scene of artillery shells and bullets flying outside was still in the yard, it would be pure courting of death. Rather than being bombed outside and waiting to be killed by stray bullets flying from nowhere, it might be a good idea to go inside and stay alert.

"Where is your division commander? Where is Commander Suvorov? I want to see him immediately!"

A group of highly alert Red Army soldiers put away their weapons and put down their guns. The leader, a second lieutenant, immediately answered Malashenko's question.

"In the cellar, Brigadier Malashenko! It's too dangerous to stay in the house. It happens that there is a cellar in this house. We moved the headquarters there. The division commander and political commissar comrades are all down there. I will take you there right now. , please come with me!”