Steel Soviet Union

As if aware of something coming, the German lieutenant colonel, who was pushed to the corner by Malashenko's strong hands, behaved abnormally.

He adjusted his clothes slightly in a leisurely manner, and the military cap with several holes on his head was straightened and put on again.

The strong body, not much shorter than Malashenko, stood upright. What flashed in his eyes was the unjust fanaticism and evil thoughts. The right arm raised diagonally upwards was accompanied by the loud and clear words in his mouth. Roar.

"Hi! Hitler!"

"Go to hell and spray shit, you bastard!"

Da da da da da——

The trigger of the loaded Bobosha submachine gun was pulled hard, and a burst of flames spewed out. In an instant, the German lieutenant colonel was hit by more than twenty bullets. His whole body twitched and sprayed out high-pressure blood in the shape of arrow clusters from the wound. flower.

Unable to tell whether he still had any remaining wishes for this world, his body fell backwards heavily and fell to the ground, like a dead dog that was crushed to death by a stick. After just two kicks, there was no more movement.

Malashenko, who had completed the execution himself, had no intention of giving up.

The Bobosha submachine gun with its barrel exuding residual heat was thrown back into the hands of Captain Varosha. Malashenko took out the Tokarev TT33 pistol from the holster at his waist and strode forward. , came to the corpse of the German lieutenant colonel with blood pouring out, raised his hand, fired twice and continued to pull the trigger.

Bang-bang-bang-bang-

The huge gunshots fired four times in the chest shook the already silent air around him.

The Red Army soldiers who were escorting the prisoners had stopped what they were doing and were watching the scene with interest or with smiles on their faces. Not a single person stopped them or said no.

Most of the German prisoners of war who were being escorted had panic written on their faces.

These extremely cruel Russians are exactly what the rumors said! They would kill all Germans, either in battle or after capture.

Who will be killed next? Could it be me? I didn't surrender just to die here.

Malashenko was in no mood to pay attention to the random thoughts of the group of German prisoners of war. Anyone who suddenly stepped on a piece of shit while walking would not be in a good mood.

Iushkin, who knew a little bit of German, basically understood the meaning of the conversation just now, and of course he strongly supported his comrade, the commander, in doing so, but there was still a question lingering in his mind that he had not yet solved.

"How do you know that this German guy is a fanatic? I was almost deceived by his appearance. To be honest, even if he puts on soldier's clothes and sneaks into the ranks of prisoners of war, we probably won't find him unless He wanted to expose himself."

Of course, Malashenko did not determine the other party's true identity by casual speculation, but if you want to say that this judgment must be 100% accurate, it is not true. However, Malashenko did have the ability to convince himself to believe what he had done. Reasons for judgment.

"The stench emanating from these fascist fanatics is a hundred times worse than the smell of corpses! Keeping these anti-human bastards alive is a violation of justice. In the future, there will be no such fanaticism among the prisoners. The lunatic can be killed directly without interrogation!"

"Everyone must remember that the dirty things these bastards are doing where we can't see them are a hundred times more than your ethical and moral limits! Being kind to them is a crime, and it is a crime against the motherland and the people. crime!”

Malashenko's voice became louder and louder, and in the end he was even shouting hysterically. Captain Varosha, who was standing aside, was not even sure why Malashenko was so angry. It was so sudden.

Even though the relationship between Iushkin and Captain Varosha is not very good, no one has forgotten the episode that happened on the top floor not long ago.

But perhaps in order to show off a little bit and show how well he knew Comrade Commander, Iushkin, who remained silent, walked straight to Captain Varosha quietly after Malashenko turned around and left. around.

"Don't look so confused, comrade. If you knew what was hidden behind the glory of the hero of the Soviet Union and what he had lost before this, you would understand him. This is not surprising, believe me."

Iushkin’s whispered words coincided with Malashenko’s steps forward.

It was at this time that snowflakes suddenly began to float in the sky that had not fallen for many days without any warning, and they fell and melted on Malashenko's face suddenly.

“It’s snowing again”

Malashenko, who was muttering in his mouth, raised his head and looked up at the gray sky above his head. The smoke of war and the pungent smell mixed with the smell of blood still hovered above the city's head, a sign that everything was about to reach its climax and end here. Still reluctant to leave.

"Hang a sign around my neck saying "This is what will happen" and try again in the next life."

Malashenko, who had no reason to stay any longer, was about to return to his tank when something unexpected happened suddenly.

"Mr. Officer, can I have something to eat? I haven't had anything decent to eat in a week."

Malashenko, who stopped and looked sullen, looked back in the direction of the sound. What he saw was a young German soldier who was estimated to be around twenty years old. He didn't even know where the helmet on his head was flying. He looked like he was reaching out to himself in prayer.

The Red Army soldier escorting the German prisoner of war could not understand what the German was talking about, but he could not get used to this habit of suddenly speaking to the brigade commander without permission.

With his arms rounded and the butt of the gun raised high, he was about to drop it and hit his head. Malashenko, who cast a cold look in this direction, suddenly spoke.

"How can you be sure? I won't kill you like I killed that bastard just now? How dare you reach out and ask me for food?"

The young German soldier, whose five senses had been numbed by excessive hunger, did not know that the butt of the gun, which could knock him to the ground with one blow, suddenly stopped less than twenty centimeters from the back of his head. .

The young German soldier, who was swaying a little when the cold wind blew, seemed almost unsteady and was about to be blown down by the strong wind.

Malashenko was curious about how such a body could be sent to the front line to fight. At the same time, he also had a clearer understanding of how corrupt the German army's logistics was.

"I, I, I think if this is the case, I will die no matter what, so I might as well give it a try. I can't stand hunger anymore. This is more uncomfortable than death. If I continue to be hungry, I might as well be shot to death. This is much shorter than dying of starvation. ”

The noncommittal Malashenko looked the German soldier up and down, slightly admiring his courage, but his overflowing sympathy was not worthy of being used casually.

"Someone will arrange a job for you, together with your comrades."

"Work hard, and everyone can get a bite to eat, and their wish to never die of hunger can be satisfied."