Chapter 447 Vera

Malashenko, who was full of doubts, did not wait too long. The young girl, who was holding her sister in the hands of two old men behind her, quickly responded affirmatively.

"Yes, comrade, those Germans gave us some food, and then drove us out with guns, and asked us to stay as far away as possible."

In order to make her words more realistic, the girl, who was almost wrapped in burlap and tattered clothes, carefully took out a few square objects wrapped in yellow paper from the lining of her coat. This was obviously the standard dry bread of the German army.

Looking at the things in the girl's hand in front of him, Malashenko smiled knowingly and spoke to Iushkin who had jumped down from the turret and came to his side.

"It seems that those Germans are living a good life. They actually have extra bread to give to irrelevant people."

Not knowing what Malashenko meant by this, the timid girl just stood there holding a few pieces of precious food in her hand, at a loss.

After the joking conversation with Iushkin, Malashenko turned around again, his face and demeanor had returned to normal, and then spoke again.

"Don't be afraid, girl, the food that belongs to you is yours, even if it is given to you by the Germans." After hearing Malashenko's assurance, the girl gradually loosened her tightly clenched palms, carefully stuffed a few small pieces of bread back into her pocket, and then waited for Malashenko's follow-up words.

"What's your name?"

"Vera"

"Vera?"

Thinking carefully about this unusually nice and catchy name, Malashenko nodded and spoke again soon.

"It's a nice name, Vera. But now I need you to answer some questions for me, some questions about the Germans who drove you out of your home. ”

From the fact that the Germans were so kind as to give the refugees some conscientious food, Malashenko, who needed to confirm it, guessed something and blurted out his guess.

"What do the Germans' uniforms look like? Are there any obvious marks on them? For example, are there any crooked marks on their helmets that look like musical notes?"

"Musical notes?"

Vera, who was not well educated, found it difficult to understand the description given by Malashenko. Seeing this, Malashenko, who was unwilling to give up, gestured and described for a long time. After almost using his hands and feet, he finally made Vera understand his problem.

"If that's the case, it seems that there is, comrade. The Germans' iron hats do have the marks you described, and their uniforms are similar to what you said, but many of them are wearing our Red Army's cotton coats. I'm sure I'm not mistaken. "

After hearing Vera's additional answer, he couldn't help but smile. With these words, Malashenko was able to determine that the enemy in front of him in the village not far away was the Grossdeutschland Infantry Regiment that had just arrived. The distinctive unit identification badge could not be wrong.

"Okay, Vera, I understand. You can leave now, but you have to be escorted by us."

In his mind, he had already planned a safe retreat route for the ragged refugees in front of him. Looking back, Malashenko immediately raised his hand and pointed at the one o'clock direction behind him while speaking again.

"Walk about one kilometer in this direction, and you should be able to see another group of Red Army troops. I will contact them and tell them to send you and your family to a safe place. After seeing them, you will be safe, and you can also drink something hot to warm your body. Remember not to go in the wrong direction. "

The help from Malashenko obviously made the young Vera feel a little unexpected. Vera, who had never expected to get help from the Red Army soldiers, looked a little flattered.

"Comrade, but, but won't this cause trouble for you?"

After hearing such a question, Malashenko smiled knowingly. He almost blurted out "serve the people" and chose a more euphemistic way to speak.

"The Red Army is the people's Red Army. The Red Army should and must appear in time when the people need it. We just did what we should do. There is no need to worry, Vera."

Even though Malashenko had a calm expression on his face as if he was talking about an ordinary daily matter, Vera still burst out with great gratitude in her heart and couldn't help herself.

"Thank you, comrade, can you tell me your name? "

Surprised by this slightly abrupt question, Malashenko blurted out the question after thinking about it for a while and didn't think there was anything wrong with it.

"Malashenko, Dimitri Drukovich Malashenko, Lieutenant Colonel Commander of the 1st Guards Heavy Tank Breakthrough Regiment of the Western Front of the Red Army. If you are interested, I hope you can remember this long list of names."

The agile blue eyes kept everything that Malashenko had just said in mind as her thoughts turned. Vera, who was full of gratitude for the man in front of her, suddenly took the initiative to step forward without warning and opened her arms to give Malashenko a soft hug.

"Thank you, Comrade Malashenko, I will never forget your kindness."

Malashenko was very surprised by all this suddenness. His brain froze for a while, and he suddenly came back to his senses until Vera took his sister's hand and led his elderly parents to set foot on the road to Moscow again.

"Hey, comrade commander! I think Miss Vera likes you. This is the truth. I can swear."

After coming back to his senses, he glanced at Iushkin's smirk and nose-rubbing action with the corner of his eye. Malashenko, whose brain nerves had recovered from the frozen state, directly reached out and slapped him.

"Get in the car, save your nonsense for your beloved girl later!"

Iushkin, who was holding his head and neck that was slightly painful from Malashenko's palm slap, almost had his tank cap slapped off by Malashenko, looked very aggrieved.

"I just told the truth, is there any need to hit me?"

"You're still talking nonsense!?"

"Yes! Get on board now, comrade commander!"

After a round of skillful operation by the driver Seryosha, the energy surged again. Malashenko, who still hung his upper body half-dangling outside the turret, no longer pretended to be angry. Thinking back to the hug of the girl just now, Malashenko seemed to be very savoring.

"Damn, what the hell is it to suddenly think of a woman at this time?"