Steel Soviet Union

It will not be easy to capture Wittmann. Malashenko knew that this fanatical SS leader was far more difficult to deal with than the average Wehrmacht.

According to the information Malashenko learned during his investigation after the Battle of Berlin, the subsequent experience of Wittmann, who was not killed by the Allies on the Western Front, is simply legendary.

Because another top ace of the German armored forces, Carlius, was disabled and forced to retire in 1944, and his record was terminated.

Without his biggest competitor, Wittmann, who was still killing like crazy on the Western Front, saw his record skyrocket and almost go crazy. Driving his new 105 Tiger King, he killed the Allied forces until they were crying for their fathers and mothers, and was in a state of embarrassment. Naturally, he sat at the top of the record list with an absolute advantage, and his position was stable.

This is precisely because by the beginning of 1945, there were as many as 180 vehicles, of which more than 100 were scraped from the Allies.

As a result, Wittmann received the highest honor - the Knight's Cross of the Iron Cross with Diamonds, Gold Swords and Gold Oak Leaves. Only two people in the German armed forces received it.

One is Hans Rudel, Mr. Meyer’s favorite general, the fierce German sky god who was blown into the sky by Little Huang Goebbels.

The other one is the Wittmann, which, together with its 105 King Tiger with the turret call number 007, became the ultimate nightmare for the Allied troops.

Moreover, the person who presented this honor to Wittmann was none other than the hair-washer himself.

Malashenko himself did not believe that someone who had won top honors and had met the head of state said that he would be defeated so easily.

Let Krauser try to take him down, which is just an early "test of firepower". Malashenko wants to know how tough and "stupid" this guy is.

The result was as expected. As expected, Wittmann was as smelly and hard as a stone in a pit. Not only was he disobedient, but he also scolded Krauser, who was trying to persuade him, and even Malashenko. A total humiliation.

If it hadn't been for Malashenko's order, Krauser, who was shaking with anger, would have given Wittmann a "hard job".

But it doesn’t matter, it’s interesting just because it’s hard to win. Otherwise, wouldn’t the package Malashenko prepared for Wittmann be in vain?

It happened that Alsim was going with him today. Malashenko, who already had a plan in mind, decided to add some ingredients to Wittmann. With Alsim helping him, he would definitely get twice the result with half the effort.

Krauser and his brothers have no formal status or official establishment. Whether their life is good or bad depends entirely on whether Malashenko will reward him or not. In the true sense, their fame, fortune, and wealth all depend on Malashenko. Shenke is all in one.

Of course, it is precisely because of this that these smart people are loyal enough.

Staying in a duplex apartment building specially arranged and specially assigned by Malashenko, enjoying a dedicated and independent "office building" and being of its own, but still subject to the supervision of representatives of the military agencies assigned by Malashenko .

Krause didn't think there was anything wrong with this. Instead, he thought it just proved his worth.

After all, supervision is also a kind of cost input, and the input cost means that the target object\\person to which the cost is invested has its own value. Krauser, who knows this simple logic, welcomes the general to send representatives to supervise.

If I don't do anything wrong, I won't be afraid of ghosts knocking on my door. I, Krause, have no back-biting and 200% loyalty, so what kind of supervision can I be afraid of?

Malashenko even gave Krauser and his brothers the basic power to self-arm again. In order to facilitate unified logistics, they did not use the original German guns. They all used the latest AK44 automatic rifles and SVT40 semi-automatic rifles. Officers are equipped with standard pistols of the same standard as the leader's army, and everything they need is available.

Although including Krause himself, he and his group of brothers have only 4 officers in total, and the rest are all big soldiers.

But Malashenko also gave him another power: the ability to expand the team to a hundred people.

As for how the soldiers will come, it is impossible to stuff you with new recruits from the Red Army anyway. You have to rely on your own ability to recruit troops.

Where to recruit?

It's simple. There are plenty of Germans growing potatoes and digging the earth in the Siberian prisoner-of-war camps. Find the ones you want and recruit them if you like them.

The premise is that the resumes of all new recruits must be submitted in detail. Not only must Malashenko personally read it, but they must also be handed over to the political commissar for a political review to ensure that this team will be of great use and continue to develop in the future. A strong team, clean from the start.

For the series of powers and full respect given by Malashenko, Krauser felt an indescribable gratitude in his heart. The more he thought about it, the more he felt like he was about to shed tears.

I feel like in my entire life, no one has ever looked down upon me so highly, and no powerful person has ever treated me so well.

In this way, Krauser's determination to serve the general and be willing to go through fire and water is even stronger.

In the same way, because of Malashenko's direct intervention, the group of former Wehrmacht airborne veterans whose families far away have been properly accommodated are basically as moved as Krauser.

Although Germany has been beaten to a pulp, these veterans, most of whom are in their thirties, compared the treatment described in their letters to their families, and were basically surprised to find that their families' lives are better now than during the Nazi period.

Comparing it with the relatives and neighbors who pick up garbage and eat hungry meals, the contrast is not too stark.

With their worries properly resolved, and with Krauser's firm leadership, this group of second-service veterans whose personal tactical skills are far better than ordinary soldiers are now loyal to Malashenko.

Some people even paste Comrade Ma's photo in their diary and hang it on their bedside to remind themselves not to forget how this good day came about.

So how can the effect of this be seen?

As soon as Malashenko got out of the car, the two guards standing guard at the door of the building immediately beamed with respect and excitement, and their expressions were more respectful and excited than meeting their biological father.

The essence is dead, and everything related to it has been abolished and turned into historical dust.

As expected, the two guards standing at the door of the building gave Malashenko the standard Red Army military salute with a gun.

Although I just learned it not long ago, the movements are pretty standard and pretty good. The brand new AK44 automatic rifle in their hands is far more efficient and easier to use than the shabby STG44 they used before.

Walking into the building together with Malashenko, Alsim felt pretty good as he was honored by Malashenko and saluted by the two guards.

"It can be seen that they respect you very much, Comrade Commander. Even if you are cursed by some other Germans, they don't care anymore."

"That's because I gave them what they needed, what others couldn't give them, and what they wanted in their ruined homeland."

Malashenko will not talk to these surrendered German soldiers about any big reason. That will not work. Materials at this time are far more useful than empty words.

“For them now, it’s time for their stomachs to determine their brains and their families to determine themselves. Before launching a grand narrative, we must first let them feel that they are noticed. No matter how grand a narrative is, if it cannot pay attention to the individual, it can only be whimsical. "

Alsim was thoughtful after hearing Malashenko's words. Although he couldn't comprehend them immediately, he still remembered these words. This is a good habit that Alsim developed during his long-term stay with Malashenko. .

It doesn't matter if you can't understand it on the spot. Write it down first and study it carefully later. There is always plenty of time.

Krauser, who returned to the station first, had already started to prepare in advance. When he learned that Malashenko had arrived, he immediately took the initiative to greet him. As soon as they met, he smiled at Malashenko.

"General, everything is ready. The prisoner is in Interrogation Room No. 2. Is there anything else you need from me?"

He didn't bring any extra entourage, only Alsim and the driver. Malashenko, who had left the driver and the car outside, was now accompanied only by Alsim. The dignified military commander went out without even a guard.

But Krauser, who knew everything, knew that this man named Alsim was far superior to any guard, and it was enough to have him by his side.

I heard that the infamous Heisenberg, nicknamed the "Bavarian Razor", died at the hands of Alsim. Alsim put it on the roof of the Capitol and chopped it into several pieces. The body had to be packed in bags. It was really terrible.

Even Krauser, who sincerely looked down on the lunatic SS, had heard of the ferocity and cruelty of Heisenberg and his gang of crazy SS men.

Countless prisoners of war and British and American Allied forces died in the hands of this guy. Developing newer killing techniques was his favorite thing to do. His personal combat effectiveness is simply at the peak of foot combat, and far above that of ordinary people.

Why would anyone put Heisenberg's company and Wittmann's troops together?

It is because someone who issued this order hopes to see the combination of the strongest infantry combat and the strongest armor, producing the effect of one plus one being greater than two.

It's a pity that Heisenberg's too devilish acting style really couldn't catch Wittman's eyes. The two seemingly inseparable people feel that they are at odds with each other even when they are together, so don't expect too much social communication. This is what happens with the stubborn melon.

Now that Heisenberg is dead, his top SS infantry company has been wiped out and chopped into sausages by the number one Slavic superman under the Iron Butcher.

Wittmann had also been captured alive. He was held down on the spot by the Red Army soldiers surrounding the wreckage of the Tiger King. He knelt on the ground and became a prisoner of war.

Malashenko had expected how Wittmann would speak and what he would say to him when he saw him again.

But when he entered the room, all he saw was a stern face with hair as messy as a henhouse and a beard as messy as a weed. Wearing a prison uniform that had not been changed for an unknown period of time, he was no better than the street beggars of later generations.

The number one armored ace who used to show off his power is now just a prisoner, which makes people sigh.

He also heard the sound of the door opening. Wittmann, who seemed a little dazed but still had bright eyes, took the initiative to raise his head and recognized the face of the man he had kept in mind at a glance.

"You're here to see a joke, right?"

"No, I want to see how the number one armored ace with a final record of 196 is doing. He is not satisfied with the "reception" of his compatriots."

Malashenko, neither smiling nor angry, said as he sat on a chair and faced the person he had come all the way to meet. Alsim followed closely to the right rear of Malashenko and stood ready with his bare hands. Wittmann, who was handcuffed to the interrogation table and unable to move, continued to have a sullen expression.

"A young major is not worthy of me coming here to see a joke. To be precise, this is an interview. It is the best job opportunity you can receive in the rest of your life, and I believe you will eventually agree to come to work."

"Ha, hahahaha, hahahahaha——"

Malashenko's words trailed off quietly, but all he received in exchange was a sneer from the prisoner on the chair.

“My answer is, fuck you!”

"You may get those spineless Wehrmacht cowards to lick your shoes, steel butchers, but you can't get a true SS elite to surrender."

"I don't know if your dog told you, so I'll just repeat it to you."

"Either kill me or let me go. You have no third option. The only way to use me is to bury me in your back garden as fertilizer. Do you understand? Idiot."

""

The corners of Alsim's mouth and eyelids twitched at the same time.

Although I couldn't fully understand the meaning, I knew from the arrogant expression and the few curse words that the dog had no good words coming out of his mouth. He was definitely insulting the comrade commander and seeking death.

But Malashenko did not speak, and Alsim, who knew what he should do on this trip, remained unmoved, waiting quietly for the next words of Malashenko, who was not angry but smiling.

"Then it seems that I have no choice but to let you go. There seems to be no other choice. We can't let the interviewer die at the interview site."

"Do you think lying is entertainment?"

Wittmann simply did not believe that the steel butcher in front of him would let him go. He only thought that Malashenko was deliberately making fun of himself, but he never expected Malashenko's next move.

"Oh, don't blame me for your Goebbels favorite thing."

"Every spitting is a nail. I, Malashenko, keep my word. If I say I will let you go, I will definitely give you a chance."

""

Before Wittmann, who had not reacted, could speak, Malashenko, who stood up from the chair, pulled out the saber from his waist with a "crack" sound. He held the hammer in his forehand and pointed it at the handcuff chain that imprisoned Wittmann. The knife hit.

Bang——

The knife hit the metal interrogation table, causing sparks to fly. The handcuff chain that was integrated with the interrogation table was cut off by Malashenko's knife.

Horrified by the strength of this steel butcher, before the astonished Wittmann could speak, Malashenko had already raised his hand and dropped the sharp saber on the table in front of him.

"do you know it?"

"This is"

Looking at Wittmann's obviously wrong eyes after looking at the knife, Malashenko, who raised the corners of his mouth, had obviously gotten the answer he wanted.

"Yes, this is Heisenberg's knife. You and he are comrades who live and die together, right?"

Before Wittmann could say anything, Malashenko had already turned around and walked towards the door. With his back to Wittmann, his words sounded quietly again.

"The man standing in front of you is the enemy who chopped your comrade Heisenberg into sausages. He is also the only obstacle to your freedom."

"Don't worry, he is unarmed now, neither a gun nor a knife. And all you have to do is pick up Heisenberg's knife and kill him, if you have the ability to do it."

"I promise you with my honor as a soldier, as long as you can pass this test and walk out of this door, you will be free and can go wherever you want immediately."

"Believe it or not, the opportunity is right in front of you. It won't hurt you to give it a try, right?"

Bang——

The heavy iron door of the interrogation room was pulled shut by Malashenko. At this moment, only two people were left in the room, looking at each other.

Arsim, who was left behind by Malashenko, was still standing there, with a still face and no movement. Dressed in a major's uniform, he looked as harmless as a decoration.

""

Wittmann did struggle, but it was only for a few seconds. In the end, he resolutely reached out and grasped the knife Malashenko put in front of him and stood up slowly.

"Did you really kill Heisenberg?"

""

Alsim ignored him and continued to stand there as immobile as an iron tower. He neither understood nor bothered to reply.

"You don't like to talk, huh? Killing you should make the steel butcher look good. This is enough reason."

""

Alsim remained silent, and Wittmann, whose provocation was useless, could only bite the bullet and continue to slowly approach this motionless guy like a wooden man.

Malashenko, who was standing outside the door and lighting a cigarette against the wall, glanced at the time on the watch, and could not help but speak quietly with "worry" smoking in his mouth.

"Five minutes is too long, let's give it three minutes to prevent Wittmann from being beaten to death. I hope you can hold on."

The second update will arrive later, so we will continue to add more updates.