Steel Soviet Union

"Hey, there's someone alive here! You, what about you! German, damn fascist! Put your hands up, hurry up!"

The bayonet directly under the muzzle flashes with cold light and is sharp. The long and narrow curved magazine leaves no doubt that this latest Kalashnikov assault rifle is enough to kill anyone in front of it once it is fired. Their flesh and blood were turned into a hornet's nest and killed on the spot.

The Red Army soldier holding a steel gun spoke a slightly stilted German and shouted loudly at the half-exploded bomb-proof cave. He was sure that he saw black shadows flashing in the remaining half of the dark cave. move.

But what was different from the past was that there was no familiar shouting from the Germans in the cave, nor was there the mechanical friction sound of wiping and loading guns. The dark half of the shell-proof cave was almost silent. Weird.

"Last chance! Get out of the cave, fasis, now!"

The impatient Red Army soldiers were already slightly tightening their triggers and were ready to fire at any time. Repeating the slogan twice was already showing the utmost kindness to the fascist die-hards, and there was no need to repeat it a third time.

But the Red Army soldier whose nerves were already tense into a straight line would never have thought that the voice coming out of the cave would be Russian that sounded extremely awkward and did not sound like Russian at all.

"Don't drive, don't shoot. I'm not a fascist or a German when I come out. Please don't kill me. I'll come out right now."

From the half-exploded shell-proof cave, a hunched figure walked out slowly with hands raised in the air.

What is surprising is that this unkempt and unkempt young man, who is wearing tattered coarse cloth clothes that are not military uniforms, and whose original appearance cannot be seen, actually has an Asian face with yellow skin and black eyes.

"Stop, don't move! Who are you? Mongolian? Or Kazakh?"

Whether it was the clothes on his body or this special face, they were silently explaining something obvious.

He will definitely not be a member of the German army. In the German army, where racism is rampant, Asians with yellow skin and black eyes have never been heard of. This person is generally called a "monkey" in the mouth of the German head of state. It is obviously deviant and undesirable to allow the "rich" Aryans to fight side by side with the "monkey".

There are quite a few Asian faces with yellow skin and dark eyes in the ranks of the Red Army. A considerable number of Kazakhs and Mongols fought in the ranks of the Red Army. This is no longer a rare thing and everyone knows it.

The Red Army soldier who was on high alert with his AK in hand felt that he had guessed the truth. The guy in front of him was most likely a captured prisoner. After being captured by the Germans, he worked for these fascists. The skin on his body doesn't look like someone who is looked down upon by the Germans. Don't expect to be given a gun to join in the battle. At most, he is just a coolie.

Although strictly speaking they may be comrades who once fought under the same flag, "traitors" who surrender to the enemy are still worthy of vigilance.

The Red Army soldiers who were on alert did not put down the steel guns in their hands and were about to say something else, but at this moment, a heavy and roaring steel body passed by.

"Huh? What's wrong with this person?"

Malashenko, half of his body hanging outside the turret, happened to be passing by and noticed something was wrong at the first sight. This unknown man with tattered clothes and an Asian face immediately attracted Comrade Ma of attention.

"What's going on? Who is this person?"

Malashenko's brief question got straight to the point. The Red Army soldier clutching the AK in his hand immediately recognized the man on the turret as the division commander.

After confirming that there were other comrades with guns pointed at the unknown prisoner, the soldier who temporarily put away the steel gun in his hand immediately saluted.

"Reporting to Comrade Division Commander, this is the prisoner I just captured. I guess he may be one of our people who was captured by the Germans as a coolie, or he may be one of our civilians. I haven't had time to inquire in detail. In short, he cannot be a German. "

""

After hearing this, Malashenko did not continue, as if thinking about something, and then refocused his eyes on the unidentified prisoner. He glanced up and down again and then asked questions.

"Where is your hometown? What's your name? Why are you with these fascist lackeys?"

The curious Malashenko just wanted to know where the man in front of him came from, but he never expected that the next answer would make him almost flinch and barely avoid falling back from the turret back into the car. .

"Report, I am Chinese. My hometown is Qiqihar, Heilongjiang. My name is Ren Dagui. I was captured by the Germans from the east and brought here. I used to work for the Red Army and help the Red Army fight! I worked for the Germans. It was really forced.”

? ? ?

Damn, Chinese? Damn it, fellow!

For a moment, Malashenko almost thought that his ears were stuffed with donkey hair and he heard wrongly.

This is Belarus, which is thousands of miles away from the China-Russia border! If this guy is really Chinese, how did he get here across such a long distance? What the hell is this?

No, is this bitch deliberately putting it here to deceive the Sa family? This is simply outrageous!

No, I have to find a way to confirm and test whether this bitch is lying.

If Comrade Lao Ma is indeed thinking fast enough, an idea suddenly comes to his mind, and the words come to his mouth, and a long-lost dialect that smells like Northeastern people is blurted out in an instant.

"How many people are there in the family? Big brother."

At that moment, Malashenko clearly noticed that the guy in the car in front of him who claimed to be Chinese had a startled expression and his eyes widened. His expression almost had "I was shocked" engraved on his face.

However, this subconscious reply that followed immediately made Comrade Ma take a deep breath.

"There are five members of our family, my father, my mother, my younger brother and my younger sister. We live in Gadahu Village in Shihu Mountain."

""

What is authentic Northeastern flavor?

This is called authentic Northeast flavor!

At this point, there is no need to say more. Malashenko is convinced that the person in front of him is a genuine Northeastern Chinese.

Just with this authentic taste of the Northeast, if you say that this is Maozi pretending to be here to deceive people, Comrade Lao Ma will not believe it even to death.

Malashenko felt that countless questions were welling up in his mind in an instant, and he wanted to ask the noble man in front of him. This strong curiosity could not be suppressed and kept rising crazily.

Unfortunately, this was not a good time to sit down and ask questions. Malashenko could only suppress the curiosity in his heart for the time being, and turned to the nearest infantry company commander within sight. With a greeting, he called him to get out of the car next to him.

"Comrade Commander, what are your orders?"

"This prisoner, the person I am pointing to in front of you, should be taken down and guarded alone. No mistakes can be made, and he cannot be handed over to other friendly forces. He is special. When the battle is over, I will come to you personally to ask for him. Understand Yet?"