Steel Soviet Union

It was not until recently that Malashenko suddenly realized a serious problem after looking around. He didn't even have a tank that he could command anymore!

At least within sight, not a single Stalin heavy tank could continue to maintain a fighting posture. In addition to the burning steel wreckage after being destroyed, there was only the abandoned steel figure that had stayed put after abandoning the car.

Malashenko originally planned to call on the remaining tanks under his command to kill the German orange cat, but the situation that not a single tank was left was obviously unexpected.

Now that things have come to this, they can only continue to retreat in the direction of Lavrinenko. Malashenko hopes that his good brothers still have tanks that can be put into battle.

Otherwise, if we want to kill this damn German big orange cat, we don’t know how many soldiers’ lives will be lost. The act of charging straight up with the explosive pack was too showy. Malashenko would never give such an order to the soldiers.

Seeing Varosha taking the order with a figure that was worried about him and turning around three times, he gritted his teeth and stood up with a waist that felt almost broken and a chest that felt like it was tearing.

Malashenko, who knew that he was probably injured internally, had no time to worry about much else. At such a critical moment of life and death, he had to continue to do something, otherwise there would really be only death waiting for him.

"You have to inform Commander Suvorov that we can't hold on here any longer."

Having made up his mind, Malashenko looked around for his target, and finally saw Division Commander Suvorov fighting with his division personnel behind a trench.

Malashenko, who was about to run over quickly, had no time to take action when he saw a whistling shell coming from nowhere with a shrill scream and the initiation falling. Time stood still for a moment. Rashenko only felt as if the whole world had been stretched infinitely.

boom--

""

Malashenko, who had just taken the first step, was stunned.

The mortar shells that flew from who knows where were impartial and landed just outside the trench in front of Division Commander Suvorov, very close to him, and exploded with a loud bang.

There was a burst of flying dust and rocks, and Malashenko saw the tall figure about the same height as himself falling straight down. The large-brimmed military hat on his head and the Bobosha submachine gun he had been holding in his hand fell to the ground like a puppet whose soul had been taken away. For a moment, Malashenko's pupils were dilated and his eyes widened. He immediately rushed forward without saying a word.

"Son of a bitch! These stupid bastards!"

Malashenko, who witnessed this scene so close to his eyes, was instantly furious. The pile of dead people lying on the ground included Division Commander Suvorov, whose life and death were unknown, as well as his adjutant, guard company commander, and political commissar partner.

Holding the gun belt, he threw Somi behind his back and carried it on his back. Malashenko, holding on to the last glimmer of hope, ran forward and stretched out his arms to help him, who was lying on his back, covered in blood. Commander Suvorov's firm belief that he would never abandon his comrades still remains today.

“Is Malashenko Malashenko?”

Commander Suvorov, who was muttering a lot of blood in his throat, had not yet died on the spot. Driven by his last remaining vitality, he was still asking questions.

"Yes! It's me, comrade division commander, Malashenko is here!"

"Ahem, damn Fasis! I can't even see my eyes, ahem."

The scattered shell fragments not only seriously injured Division Commander Suvorov's body, but also caused his eyes to bleed and become bloody.

Through the vague flesh and blood, Malashenko could even see that there was nothing in the sunken eye sockets. No one knows what Commander Suvorov experienced at the moment of the explosion. A large mouthful of blood continued to gush out of his throat because he opened his mouth to speak, but even so, Commander Suvorov did not stop there.

"Take this, Malashenko! I have fallen, but the Red Army and the Guards of our heroes must not fall! From now on, you are the commander of the 9th Guards Airborne Division, and I will command The power is handed over to you! Lead the comrades to continue fighting and fight the Fascists to the end! No Red Army soldier will surrender to the enemy today!"

Human life is fragile and often only lasts for a moment that is difficult to estimate in advance.

His blood-stained right hand tightly grasped the Nagant revolver that Division Commander Suvorov handed to him before his death.

Malashenko, who once again experienced taking over the unfinished burden from his fallen comrades, gently put down the body of Commander Suvorov in his arms. Even his teeth were trembling with hatred. Eat those fascists alive.

"Comrade Brigadier, Comrade Brigadier!"

Before he could do anything else, Malashenko heard someone calling his name. When he glanced in the direction of the sound, he found that the person who came was the person he had sent to lead the retreat. Valosha.

"Why are you back again!? Didn't I ask you to prepare to retreat?"

Malashenko leaned on the trench wall behind him to temporarily take cover. He almost lost the comrade commander and the three Iushkin brothers. He almost arrived at Malashenko together with Varosha, who was jogging closely. beside.

"Comrade Deputy Brigade Commander and others have also been repelled and are approaching us! Oleg told me this personally. He just ran to confirm it! What should we do now? Comrade Brigade Commander!"

""

The moment he heard that Lavrinenko's situation was as bad as his own, Malashenko's face did not show much surprise.

Silently, he lowered his head and looked at the blood-stained Nagant revolver in his hand. What echoed in his ears were the German commands that were so close that he could clearly hear the content.

When Malashenko opened his eyes again after his eyes were slightly closed for less than two seconds, the soul living in the body no longer pursued any way or hope of living, only the fire of hatred in his eyes. Burning.

"Hold the gun and load it!"

With extreme calmness and strong hatred, Malashenko raised his right hand holding the gun, which was full of blood. He never imagined that one day he would command the battle in this way, let alone that he would direct the battle in such a way. Step towards the end of life.

"Guards! For the sake of the motherland, attack! Ula!!!"

A roar with arms raised covered all the surrounding gunfire and resounded throughout the battlefield. The SS soldiers who were attacking in an orderly manner in a skirmish line heard this sudden shout. Anyone who knew what "Ula" meant The veteran trembled all over, immediately braced himself up, clenched the weapon in his hand and opened his eyes wide.

Most of the SS soldiers participating in the attack thought that their opponents were almost dead, but it turned out that "thinking" was just "thinking" and could not replace reality. A wave of people jumped out from under the trenches in front of them like a tide and from behind the broken walls in an instant. A large group of enemies instantly shattered the victory that the SS soldiers thought was close at hand.

"Stop them! Shoot, shoot, shoot!"

The panicked SS soldiers raised their guns and fired, but they were so close that they could even hear each other shouting orders. The battle at a distance could no longer be solved with guns alone.

The Red Army soldiers at the front were hit by the entire row and fell face to face in a pool of blood. However, more Red Army soldiers continued to charge with deafening roars. The SS, who were in an offensive formation rather than a defensive position, were soon thrust into their faces, and the most cruel close-quarters hand-to-hand combat in the era of hot weapons, burning blood and will, began again.

Malashenko, who was in the charge team, fulfilled his oath and fulfilled his last promise to Division Commander Suvorov before his death.

The Somi submachine gun in his hand sprayed with fury, knocking down all the SS soldiers within sight. Even the aim was directly erased by the waist shot, which quickly emptied the drum, and the sound of the firing pin hitting the air was heard from the gun. There was no more ammunition in the chamber.

"Ah ah--"

An SS soldier who saw the opportunity rushed over with a Mauser 98K with a bayonet in his hand, screaming strangely. Malashenko, who had no more prepared drums on his body, held the hot barrel of the gun with his backhand and pressed hard. Wai,,. The Somi submachine gun thrown out in a spin hit the SS soldier's face, and his huge hand knocked him upside down on the spot.

"Fuck you son of a bitch!"

Bang bang bang——

He pulled out his Tokarev TT33 pistol from the holster on his waist and fired three times. The SS soldier who was hit with blood on his face and was struggling to get up died on the spot and became motionless.

With his other free left hand, he once again took out the bloody Nagant revolver from his belt. Malashenko, with Tokarev in his right hand and Nagant revolver in his left hand, directly entered the dual-gun state, and used it as never before. He carried out this battle that was probably his last with the attitude he had had.

"Come on, comrade division commander! Let's kill all these fascist pigs together!"

Bang-bang-bang——

The unique gunshots of Nagant's revolver and Tokarev alternately sounded, and one after another the SS soldiers who were fighting in close combat with the Red Army soldiers were shot and fell to the ground.

The crazy opponent, who did not have any distinctive features and only wore a simple and tattered tank soldier's uniform and a tank cap, quickly attracted the attention of the SS commander.

"That's the Malashenko! There's no mistake, I remember! It's him!"

Enemies often meet on a narrow road. At this moment, Malashenko has not yet realized that the commander of the enemy in front of him is the SS who was sprayed bloody by him not long ago. Captain of the first-level assault brigade of the army!

The leader of the SS First Class Assault Battalion, who had confirmed the opponent's identity, was extremely excited. A sinister smile appeared on his face behind a broken wall and ruins. He raised his right hand out of thin air and then stretched it out in front of the guard who was protecting him. .

"Give me the rifle and load it!"

The rifleman in charge of the personal guard immediately complied and handed over the Mauser 98K rifle with the magazine already filled with bullets.

"Haha, let's see how stubborn you, a dirty Russian guy, are going to be later."

With a smooth and quick action of pulling the bolt and loading the bullet, he instantly pushed the Mauser 98K bullet in his hand into the chamber. He narrowed his left eye and knelt down in a standard three-point-one-line shooting position to firmly set the crosshair on the prey. He smiled sinisterly. The captain of the SS First Class Assault Group, who was getting more and more popular, immediately pulled the trigger without any hesitation.

boom--

The clear and long sound of gunshots streaked across the sky. On a battlefield where close combat was common, submachine gunshots were rare, and rifle sounds were almost non-existent, it seemed so sudden and without warning.

The Nagant revolver in the left hand has emptied the magazine, and the Tokarev in the right hand has the slide rebounded.

Malashenko, who had empty all the bullets, slowly lowered his head and looked at the wound on the right side of his abdomen where the military uniform was smashed and blood was gushing. It felt like my body, which had lost a lot of strength in an instant, could no longer hold on and fell to my knees. However, my strong will, which refused to fall completely, was still forcing my left hand to support the ground and prevent me from falling completely.

The shouts of killing around me are gradually fading away, and the gunshots that come and go are becoming less and less.

With blood dripping from the corner of his mouth, Malashenko lowered his head and faced the earth. His originally clear consciousness was becoming increasingly blurry, until the domineering footsteps and familiar tone in front of him sounded again.

"Look who this dog-like guy is? All your people are almost dead, Russian pigs! A bunch of incompetent and brainwashed idiots and trash!"

Malashenko, whose entire chin was covered in blood, slowly raised his head and saw the SS First Class Assault Battalion Captain in front of him who he had told harsh words that he must kill with his own hands. The head, which was silent and expressionless, quietly lowered again like a dying patient.

"Don't worry, I'll send you to see your bunch of brainwashed idiot pig buddies right now!"

The shadow of the sun with his back turned was reflected in Malashenko's field of vision. He had already raised the gun in his hand. His right hand, which was covered with sticky and wet blood, had already calmly released the empty magazine of the Toka. Lev pistol, replaced by a flat-head razor often used by Soviet carpenters for manual wood work and smoothing the surface of wood blocks.

The flat blade head, which resembles a hammerhead shark, is even stained with the flowing blood of a previous Red Army soldier who killed an enemy. This knife is the last hope in the hands of Malashenko, who has no weapons left.

The reflection holding the Luger pistol had become still. Malashenko, who was holding the handle of the knife, used his last strength to suddenly burst out. He swung his left fist outward and instantly knocked away the Luger who was pointing at his head. Pistol, he pulled the trigger in panic, and the bullet fired crossed Malashenko's shoulder and hit the soil behind him.

The left hand came forward with a claw and grabbed the opponent's throat tightly. The right hand holding the flat razor used all the strength that could be mobilized in the body to stab hard. It's not as good as cutting iron like clay, but at least it can cut flesh and break bones. The flat-headed razor cuts through with a stream of blood without any sloppiness.

After a burst of blood spurting into the sky, what fell was the headless corpse as predicted earlier.

Malashenko, who was still holding the good man's head tightly in his left hand, followed closely before the SS guards who had been in shock and panic for a moment came to their senses, and could no longer support their heavy bodies. , and fell heavily to the ground.

"Fuck you idiot Fasis, I told you to wash your neck and you will definitely do what you say."

It may be the last hallucination before death, or it may be the scene that can only be seen after the soul leaves the body and leaves the body.

Before the darkness completely swallowed up his complete consciousness, Malashenko seemed to see countless Red Army soldiers coming one after another, shouting slogans and charging heroically from the direction with his back.

One after another, T34 medium tanks smashed through the wreckage of the SS tanks. The IL-2 attack aircraft and Figure 2 tactical bombers in the sky seemed to be able to block the sky and the sun.

Varosha, Iushkin, Kirill, and Seryosha, the echoing sounds of hurriedly rushing in and crying out their names sadly, finally disappeared with lingering echoes. In the endless darkness.