Steel Soviet Union

Everyone has to die, some are heavier than Mount Tai, some are lighter than a feather, there is a difference.

Malashenko spent ten seconds to seriously consider the way he wanted to die, and finally chose to die as a dignified Soviet hero on the battlefield where he fought. This can at least be recorded in history, rather than being caught by the scum of the SS to make soap or fumigated to death in the gas chamber. Soviet heroes who died in Nazi concentration camps are not great.

After doing everything he should do, Malashenko returned to his tank. The final moment was approaching little by little.

Now, Malashenko needs a little time to do his last thing.

"What are you holding in your hand?"

Malashenko, who was sitting in his seat as the commander, was fiddling with something in his hand. Ivushkin, who had just lit a cigarette in his mouth, turned around and asked questions about the "unknown object" in Malashenko's hand.

"You mean this? Just a photo."

Malachenko's answer seemed a little nonchalant, but it aroused Iushkin's interest even more. The right hand that stretched out to Malachenko was obviously trying to take the thing in his hand to see.

Faced with Iushkin's request, Malachenko did not refuse, and handed the thing in his hand to Iushkin.

"Oh, so beautiful! Well, let me guess, this is Natalia, the fiancée of our commander, there must be no mistake!"

Before Iushkin finished speaking, Kirill, who was leaning on the other side of the breech block, also hurriedly bent down, poked his head out from under the breech block, and also wanted to quickly see the beautiful face of the commander's wife in the photo.

Although the photo is black and white and looks a little yellow and old, the young man and woman leaning against each other in the photo still show a sincere and bright smile.

No one knows when this photo was taken.

Malashenko, who had searched for a long time from the inherited memory, could only barely remember that this photo was taken when he and Natalia went on an outing in the suburbs of Moscow in the last few days before he officially joined the Red Army.

When he just came to this strange world, this photo appeared in front of him, and it was the beginning of a love across time and space.

Now, he may leave this world soon. At the last moment of his life, Malashenko, who did not belong to this time and space, the only person he could not let go of was the girl in the photo.

In the future world, Lin Jie, who used to spend all day in the library of Moscow University and immersed in the history of the Great Patriotic War, never remembered that he had seen a Soviet tank soldier hero named Malashenko, and he had no impression of a girl named Natalia.

Perhaps, everything should have ended in 1941.

The real Malashenko was already dead at that time, at least in the history where there had never been a time traveler.

If this is true, what will Natalia look like after that?

Malashenko leaned quietly on his seat as the commander of the tank, puffing out smoke and looking at the familiar steel ceiling above his head in the mist. He seemed to be in deep thought or in a whirlpool of memories.

"I hope she can fall in love with someone who can take care of her for the rest of her life. I just dragged the dead person to live for another two years. It seems that what is coming will eventually come."

Malashenko's expression was very rare and a little bit wrong.

Seeing this scene, Ivushkin, who was smiling and holding a photo in his hand, gradually lost his smile and became silent.

At the last moment before the final moment, all the crew members of the No. 177 IS6 heavy tank knew it very well.

The moment in their oath was slowly approaching them, and there was no escape. Malashenko chose to die here and never surrender to the fascist invaders who came here to burn, kill and loot.

The comrades who had followed their commander since 1941 and shared life and death and hardships with him until now also resolutely followed the resolute back again, and as always stepped onto the same road that was already a cliff.

"Have you prepared the suicide note? It's best not to carry it with you. It's best to give it to someone who is not a tank soldier for safekeeping, otherwise it will be burned to ashes. If you haven't prepared it, it's still not too late to write it in time."

Malachenko's quiet words broke the brief silence, and in response, Iushkin grinned again with disdain.

"I don't have any suicide note. My mother will hear the news that her son has died heroically in the newspapers and on the radio. It's for the Soviet Union, for the motherland, and for the people! I believe my mother will be proud of me. I have done everything I swore under the red flag, and my name will not be forgotten."

At first, it was just a disdainful statement, but when Iushkin, who was getting more and more excited, spoke to the end, Malachenko could clearly see tears in Iushkin's eyes.

They all say it is for the sake of the motherland, but which child doesn't want to return home and be with his mother again?

Malashenko in this world is an orphan, which is why Malashenko, who can empathize with Natalia, who has been bullied and excluded since childhood, can play together.

Malashenko, who has no father or mother, is concerned about Natalia who is far away. Iushkin, who turned around and secretly wiped the tears from his wet eyes, remained silent.

Kirill, who was leaning against the ammunition rack at the rear end of the turret, was looking through the letters his mother had written to him. Seryosha, who was sitting in the driver's seat at the front of the car, was also taking one last look at the photos of his wife and young children. , the No. 177 train crew suddenly fell into an unprecedented tranquility, and a pin drop could be heard.

That is to say, when Malashenko's thoughts returned to reality and he was about to say something and give an order, the tank that was parked quietly was suddenly knocked twice with something from the outside, which sounded slightly dull. The sound echoed in the silent car, endlessly.

About five seconds later, the top cover of the commander's turret of the No. 177 IS6 heavy tank was pushed open. Malashenko, who leaned out half of his body, saw who was knocking on his precious car: Major Varosha's right-hand man, Oleg, who looks a little fat.

"What's the matter? Captain Oleg."

Faced with Malashenko's question, Oleg, who was standing next to the tank with a Bobosha submachine gun in his hand, first raised his finger and pointed in the direction behind him, and then answered Malashenko.

"The Germans sent a small car over. There were four people. They raised their hands with white flags and did not carry any weapons. Comrade Brigadier asked to see our supreme commander by name. Varosha was undecided and asked me Come and have a look with you.”