Steel Soviet Union

boom--

The force of a punch that was as big as a sandbag hitting the face was far beyond what an ordinary person could bear, not to mention that the person who threw this punch was a tall Red Army tank soldier.

Covering his nose with his hand as if he had knocked over the spice box, all the sweet, sour, bitter, and spicy sensations rushed to his head. The world was spinning, and he felt as if his soul had been stripped from his body. The German squad leader instantly fell backwards and fell to the ground, with two nosebleeds. Waterfalls usually flow outwards in an endless stream of spray.

"This punch is for the Red Army soldiers who were killed by you, bah! What a bastard of a lackey!"

The bearded commander, who was clenching his fists and still unable to express his hatred, spat directly on the face of the German squad leader. The cruel bloody angle grinder war had already wiped out the remaining humanity to the last trace. He was surrounded by strong onlookers. The other Soviet tank soldiers did not feel any discomfort after seeing this scene. Instead, they showed cheerful smiles and even wanted to rush up and punch and kick these Nazi lackeys.

He took two steps forward and kicked the German squad leader who had been beaten half unconscious. After the blow, the bearded commander felt that he had almost relieved his hatred. Suddenly he remembered the overturned German barrel truck. .

Thinking that there might be some German dignitaries or high-ranking officials sitting in this barrel truck, the bearded commander who stepped forward with the idea of ​​​​making a meritorious service immediately leaned down and looked into the cab that was upside down on the ground.

"Huh? Is this a German? Why isn't he wearing a military uniform?"

The driver, who was sitting in the driving seat of the car, had his head twisted to an angle that an owl could reach. He was already dead. The German second lieutenant in the passenger seat also had a bloody head and looked like he was either seriously injured or half-dead. He could only sit in the back seat. The man in civilian clothes, who was barely injured on the seat and was merely blocked by the deformed seat, looked at the bearded commander who turned his gaze with difficulty with a slightly pleading look mixed with gibbering words. Extend your right hand.

"Hmph, it turned out to be a German guy. I thought he was one of our own who was captured."

From the jabbering words of the man in the back seat of the car, he could tell that he was a German. He had already disdained to save a German who seemed to him half-dead. Just as he turned around to leave, he suddenly felt that he had just subconsciously The decision made seems inappropriate.

"No, how can the German guy who went up to me and wear civilian clothes be an ordinary person? Damn it, it's too simple."

Realizing that he might have missed a big fish, the bearded commander quickly turned around and walked back to the barrel truck that was about to be scrapped.

The middle-aged man trapped in the back seat of the car seemed to be the lively type. The bearded captain breathed a sigh of relief and quickly waved to the other crew members next to him to come forward. Several people were already there. The disarmed German soldiers who got off the Soviet tanks looked helpless at this scene.

"Lift the car door, open the back half, yes, that's it, try to get this German guy out alive."

Instructing several other Soviet tank soldiers beside him, the bearded commander finally fished out the "big fish" in the back seat. Dr. August, who had a long gash on his thigh from the fragment, was bleeding profusely and could hardly stand still.

"Bandages, gauze, hemostatic medicine, I need help, please give me these necessities"

Looking at Dr. August's obviously painful and ferocious expression, the Soviet tank soldier responded with a mocking expression as if nothing had happened.

"What is this German guy talking about? Can any of you understand?"

"I guess this Kraut is calling his mother, look at him, he's almost crying."

"Who brought the matryoshka doll? Come on, coax this German guy, he's almost in tears, haha!"

Although I couldn't understand the words of the Soviet soldiers in front of me, I could clearly feel the teasing meaning in them. I recalled that when I was in college, I was ridiculed by the same group of Yankee classmates from across the ocean. Dr. August was so ashamed and angry that he almost went crazy.

But seeing the various Soviet soldiers with German submachine guns and pistols in their hands, Dr. August, who had the upper hand with reason, finally swallowed his breath and chose to give up.

"Okay, the joke ends here, Sasha, please translate what the German guy just said."

Since the outbreak of the war, more and more field translators who can understand German have begun to appear among frontline Soviet soldiers. Some of these Soviet soldiers who also serve as translators have studied after the outbreak of the war, and some have better language talents. The young tank soldier, who could barely understand a rough word about Erdu Dao under the circumstances, was called Sasha by the bearded commander and belonged to the former group.

"He said he needed medical help, probably referring to the wound on his leg, Comrade Maxim."

After listening to the translation of his comrades beside him, he turned around again and looked at Dr. August in front of him with cold eyes like looking at a corpse. Captain Maxim looked very ruthless.

"These German guys killed our comrades and still want us to bandage their wounds. It's really outrageous!"

In the end, he chose to ignore Dr. August's request silently. He turned around and waved to his other comrades on the spot. As the most experienced person, he was appointed by Malashenko to command this group of T3457 tanks. Maxim, the official, immediately gave the order.

"Take them away, remember not to kill them."

The battle to chase the German convoy came to an end for the time being. Next to the village, Malashenko, who had almost slaughtered the stubbornly resisting German troops in the village, was commanding the troops to carry out the mopping up battle.

"Iushkin! Two o'clock, one hundred meters! Knock on the wooden house, and a class of Germans are hiding in it!"

"As you wish, Comrade Commander!"

boom--

Another dull roar spit out muzzle fire, and an 85mm high-explosive bomb was accurately sent into the wooden house along the window. Almost all the bunkers were blown away, and the German troops had nowhere to hide in a wooden house. The soldiers suffered an instant disaster. The 85mm high-explosive grenade that exploded on the load-bearing column in the center of the room was enough to tear almost everything in the room into pieces.

The scattered wreckage of wooden houses and the bloody remains of corpses were scattered everywhere in the smoke. By now, Malashenko, who had almost razed the entire village to the ground and ruined it, had basically solved all the battles, except for some that remained. The German soldiers huddled behind the ruins of the bunker and resisted desperately and never surrendered.