Steel Soviet Union

"I don't understand, Malashenko, why did you choose such a weird-looking thing, but left this most balanced prototype tank to me?"

While quietly turning his head sideways, he glanced sideways at the confused look on Lavrinenko's face next to him from the corner of his eye. He could not tell Lavrinenko that this was the shape of the turret of our Red Army's future heavy tank. Ke, had no choice but to speak with a faint smile and a slight shake of his head.

"Just like the choice you made, my old friend. Changing the sloped armor to curved armor retains a certain amount of internal space in the turret, while also improving the equivalent armor defense and ricochet probability. Compared with "The rest of the prototypes almost all use unequal sloped armor designs. Can you tell me why I think this vehicle I chose is not the most correct choice?"

The seemingly simple but irrefutable words from Malashenko's mouth left him speechless. He was stunned for a long time with his mouth slightly open before he finally recovered and agreed with Malashenko. Lavrinenko, who was talking, nodded slowly, looked at the KV85 prototype in front of him, which represents the future development direction of heavy tanks of the Red Army, and said.

"It seems that our views and choices are the same, Malashenko. This may be called a very magical thing."

Without commenting on the conclusion given by Lavrinenko, he raised his right arm and put it on Lavrinenko's shoulder. Malashenko, whose face was full of mystery, spoke again.

"The ancient East has another more accurate and appropriate name for this situation. Do you want to know what it is?"

Lavrinenko, who was caught off guard and looked a bit confused, opened his mouth to answer. Malashenko, who was a little tricked, simply responded with a smile and gave the answer directly.

"That's what heroes think alike, my old friend."

Looking at Malashenko's back as he walked away after finishing his sentence, Lavrinenko, who had never heard such convoluted words before, felt as if he was being forced into a vodka bottle.

"What's the hero? What on earth did this guy say!?"

With the completion of vehicle selection by Malashenko, Lavrinenko and other regimental escort vehicles, a total of eight prototype turret 85-gun heavy tanks have been distributed. Malashenko immediately ordered the start of another extremely important project. But it can be said that Zhang Fei's meticulous work - coloring - is as meticulous as embroidery.

There is no reason why the Guards logo, which represents the highest honor and the status symbol of the elite in the Red Army, should not be painted on the outside of the turret to show its identity. The bear designed by Malashenko personally has a German Iron Cross in its mouth. The logo of the leading army is even more necessary. Malashenko, who finally exchanged his life for the glorious status of the Guards, can't wait to paint the symbol of supreme glory on his brand-new car. symbol.

"Comrade Commander, we should ask a more professional comrade to paint the markings. I'm worried that if something goes wrong, our car will be safe."

"Hmm? Let's finish talking. What happens next?"

Kirill, who was frightened by Malashenko's sudden opening, obviously didn't have the guts to continue to finish his words. Seeing this, Iushkin didn't have so many worries and strode forward with great strides. He spoke to Malashenko, who was holding a paint bucket and a brush in his hands.

"Comrade Commander, Kirill wants to say that instead of doing it yourself, you should find a more professional person. If you ask me to translate it, are you sure you really have the artistic talent in this area?"

Malashenko, who had just dipped a little red paint in the paint bucket with the brush in his hand, couldn't help being stunned after hearing this. Malashenko, who was only excited and ready to use his "genius" artistic talent, followed immediately. Then he hesitated.

Although what Iushkin said was not very pleasant to listen to, it was not completely unreasonable. According to his art skills as a two-handed swordsman, these brush strokes might actually turn the bear's head into a husky head or something like that. If you want to change the unusual things like corgi heads, it will be an extremely long and time-consuming "grand project".

Although it seemed a bit embarrassing to put down all the belongings in his hands, Malashenko, who hesitated for a long time and still felt that he did not have the artistic grasp, finally sighed.

"You two little bastards who can only tear me down! Give me a bucket of water as soon as I show any interest. If I had the power, I would send you two to Siberia for half a month to dig potatoes and work hard." Transform it!”

They have long been accustomed to Malashenko's approachable attitude without any official pretensions in daily battles and life. Iushkin and Kirill, who knew that Malashenko was joking with them, did not take it at all. Taking the words he just said into his heart, Malashenko looked at him with a smile and a slightly mocking expression. He was so angry that he almost wanted to take away the two buckets of red and white paint he was carrying. To the top of these two little bastards’ heads.

"You two slick-talking little bastards, I'm your commander, show me some manners."

"Who did you just say you wanted to send to Siberia for labor reform to dig potatoes? Lieutenant Colonel Malashenko."

Before Malashenko, who was pretending to be annoyed, could finish the "harsh words" in his mouth, a tall old figure walked slowly from outside the garage door, casting a shadow under the setting sun, and then spoke loudly. He forcibly interrupted Malashenko's words.

Malashenko, who had not been forcibly interrupted for a long time, was stunned for a moment and was getting angry with desire, but what he saw when he turned around immediately made Malashenko's jaw close again. Not going back to the original position.

"uncle!"

"Comrade Political Commissar!"

Two shouts of surprise sounded almost simultaneously, revealing the identity of the one-armed man. Malashenko, who still had no idea what was going on, spoke subconsciously.

"Comrade Political Commissar, you are here"

The unmistakable meaning could be read from Malashenko's puzzled and slightly surprised expression. Colonel Petrov, who always had a smile on his weather-beaten face, then turned to Malashenko. The answer was given, and it was also the real purpose of his trip.

"I just received a notice this morning that the General Staff Headquarters is going to select a regiment-level political commissar for your regiment to stay here. I was a little undecided and sent someone over to ask for my opinion."