Steel Soviet Union

The end of the brutal battle during the day was just the beginning. Malashenko clearly knew what kind of fierce battle was waiting for him later.

After fighting for a whole day, he was as devastated as a refugee who had just escaped from Africa. Malashenko was leaning against his car with a lunch box in his hand and quietly filling his stomach. The hand holding the spoon seemed to be trembling slightly. At this moment, political commissar Petrov, holding a stack of documents in his hand, came over from a short distance away.

"Both the casualty statistics report and the loss report of technical equipment have been calculated. Which one do you want to see first?"

Political Commissar Petrov stood aside and asked Malashenko for his opinion. Malashenko, who kept his head down while eating, answered casually without any emotion.

"Which loss is more serious?"

Political Commissar Petrov was silent for a while, seeming to guess what Malashenko was thinking.

"From the perspective of the brigade headquarters, the loss of technical equipment is obviously more serious."

Malashenko picked up a spoonful of potato stew and stuffed it into his mouth, swallowing it whole without chewing much, and then replied.

"Then let's look at the loss of technical equipment first. Give it to me."

Malashenko, who took the report from the hands of political commissar Petrov and spread it out in front of him, began to carefully study the contents recorded on it. The lunch box containing a small half bowl of remaining food was placed at his feet.

"Are you sure that 11 IS2s and 14 ISs are correct?"

Malashenko's tone could not be heard as disbelief or anything else, and Commissar Petrov never thought of concealing anything and told the truth directly.

"This includes all the losses from the air raid between the first wave and the second wave of offensive. We held on for a whole day under the Germans' high-intensity offensive, and there were bombings from planes in the sky. Such a loss is something to be thankful for. Many friendly tank units were disabled by the Germans on the first day of the war. In comparison, our brigade's losses were not particularly large, at least they were bearable. "

Malashenko was noncommittal about Commissar Petrov's words. After thinking calmly for a moment, he raised his head and asked Comrade Comrade Political Commissar again.

"How much of it is damage that can be repaired? Other than the total damage."

Facing the question raised by Malashenko, Commissar Petrov shook his head slightly.

“It’s unclear yet, but Karamov is already leading his men to clear the battlefield and try to recover the tanks that are still usable.

"Before I came to you, I had a special chat with Karamov. He told me that judging from the current situation, it is best not to raise too much hope. About half of the destroyed tanks were shot in the front of the turret, so Under such circumstances, even if the tank is towed back, it will take a lot of time to repair it.”

"The repair of the armor is secondary. The main reason is the damage caused by the explosive charge to the breech, main gun pitch, and turret steering mechanism. These are precision mechanical parts. Karamov said that he has enough spare parts on hand, but this is not enough. It will take some time, and he asked me to tell you that he will try to get these tanks moving as soon as possible and repair them, but you'd better be mentally prepared in advance."

Karamov did not stick to his word or make a guarantee, which shows that he is not absolutely sure that he can resurrect these zombie tanks that have already died once before the next battle. .

Malashenko understands Karamov's character. This is a man who would never speak so harshly if he knew he was not sure. Even in front of a mountain of military orders, Karamov will still do so without being humble or arrogant or showing off forcefully, as he has always done in front of Malashenko.

"I don't have the conditions to give him that much time, and the Germans certainly don't."

"Send someone to inform Karamov that if the tanks that are still worth repairing cannot be put into combat before the next battle, then his field maintenance battalion commander will no longer be employed. I will find someone who can complete the task to replace him. He One night to get the job done and let him do his thing, that's it."

Malashenko's expression didn't look like he was joking, and his tone of voice was as calm as water, with no trace of ripples audible. Political Commissar Petrov, who heard this, could only nod his head in acquiescence.

By the time the order was delivered, Karamov was leading his men to squat on the carcass of an elephant that had just been dragged back with great effort, carefully observing this German steel behemoth that far exceeded his imagination and existing knowledge. .

Karamov doesn't think he is being lazy. Understanding the enemy's weaknesses as soon as possible can help gain an advantage in the next battle, especially for such powerful and extremely terrifying equipment.

As for repairing those damaged zombie tanks, Karamov has mobilized all his forces to do this. The person responsible for leading the team is his right-hand man and deputy battalion commander, who is the most trusted person in Karamov's daily life. A right-hand man like no other.

Later, he would take someone over to repair the tank himself, but now, Karamov decided to take five to ten minutes to check on the corpse of the giant elephant. After all, the stronger the curiosity, the more difficult it is to stop and resist, even for a veteran and repairman like Karamov.

"Hand me the flashlight and ask for the biggest one."

Karamov, who was squatting on the elephant carcass, stretched out his arm. An ordinary soldier of the field maintenance battalion who was standing next to the car was also busy. He hurriedly followed the order of the battalion commander and took out the corresponding message from his backpack. He took the initiative to reach out and hand it over.

"The size of the body is scary. It took six tanks just to drag you back. Let me see if it's worth it."

Karamov, who was standing at the front of Nange's chassis, muttered and pressed the flashlight button in his hand. A very bright light instantly illuminated the dark armor in front of him. Karamov, who was in a low-lying area, He was not worried that this beam of light would expose his target. The gently extending soil slope of seven or eight meters high was enough to cover his position.

What was illuminated by the flashlight was Ferdinand's large-opening hull, which had been blown away by the 152 high-explosive grenade. The heat dissipation window of the power cabin had been blown away. Traces of deep black ablation were all over the entire power cabin and the surrounding armor. All Karamov could see were the two dark elephant hearts that had been burned until nothing was left around them.

"It's unbelievable, comrade battalion commander! This monster is actually powered by twin engines. No wonder it can run so heavy! Look at this layout. I have never seen a similar design on any German tank. there has never been!"