Chapter 468 Madness

After leading the attack force back to the starting position, Malashenko collapsed on the turret from exhaustion and gasped for breath. He originally thought that the battle situation would no longer be fierce enough to require the vehicle's heading machine gunner to suppress the enemy, thereby removing the electromechanical crew. Malashenko, who was transferred to the loader position by Nikolai, was once again slapped in the face by the cruel reality.

The Grossdeutschland Infantry Regiment, with up to 14 combat battalions, went all out to fight, far beyond Malashenko's imagination. The waves of German infantry that surrounded the gap in the position and tried to fill it caused unimaginable huge pressure, forcing Then Malashenko had to transfer the temporary loader Nikolai back to the co-pilot position to control the vehicle's heading machine gun.

The embarrassing reality of losing a loader forced Malashenko, the commander of the vehicle, to become a loader again.

After the first ammunition rack built into the turret was lit up, Malashenko, who was already tired and out of breath, bent down again, went to the second ammunition rack on the chassis of the car body, and continued to carry 85mm custom high-explosive shells into the turret. .

The repeated bending and physical work dozens of times almost made Malashenko fall down on his post from exhaustion. Malashenko, who seemed to be falling apart, now feels weak in his entire lower back and is shaking constantly as if he is suffering from epilepsy. The average right hand can hardly hold a half-burned cigarette firmly between the fingertips.

"Comrade Commander, are you okay?"

Iushkin, who was the second to emerge from the turret after Malashenko, saw Malashenko's desperate look at a glance. A similar scene only occurred to Malashenko in Leningrad. Iushkin, who had only seen him when he was suffering from malaria, couldn't help but asked quickly.

"It's okay. I can't die now. Get me some water, preferably hot. I don't even have the strength to stand up."

I have never held the position of a loader in such a high-intensity battle like today. The previous battles where I could just load a few shells casually could not be compared with now. Malashenko, whose description was a bit disappointing, really wanted to lie down on the bed and sleep all day long.

Iushkin, who jumped off the turret in a hurry, was almost tripped by the narrow barrel of the 85mm D-5T tank gun and flew out. Iushkin, who stumbled to the ground, was confused and didn't know where the heat was. Shui simply roared loudly.

"Hot water, who can drink hot water!? Give me a pot quickly!"

After a failed attack, the Soviet army, which had suffered heavy losses, had just returned to the starting position and was licking its wounds. After the adrenaline had subsided, the Red Army infantrymen, shrouded in fatigue and frustration, paid little heed to Iushkin's caller, like crows. Iushkin howled several times without getting any reply.

"These dead people! Where on earth can there be hot water to drink!?"

Just as the grumbling Iushkin was cursing the inaction of these comrades, a steady figure who didn't know when he came forward reached out and handed over a hot kettle at the right time.

"Thank you, comrade, er, comrade political commissar!?"

Iushkin, who had his head lowered and just reached out to pick up the kettle, felt the warm touch, but suddenly and subconsciously saw an empty sleeve. There was only one person in the entire Guards First Heavy Tank Breakthrough Regiment who could be dressed like this. When Iushkin realized who was handing him a kettle in front of him, he raised his head, and then he saw a familiar face. And a resolute face.

"Go and give him the kettle. It's not convenient for me to climb the tank with only one arm."

"Yes, Comrade Political Commissar!"

He happily took the warm military kettle and quickly turned around and ran to where his car was parked. Malashenko, who was still slumped and sitting on the turret, had no strength at all, so he had to hold the bottle in his mouth that was about to burn out. The cigarette butt was waiting for Iushkin to deliver the kettle to him as if he was paralyzed.

Seeing that Malashenko was almost scrapped, Iushkin immediately reached out and unscrewed the lid of the pot and prepared to give Malashenko two mouthfuls.

Although he was tired and paralyzed, Malashenko reached out to catch the kettle before the spout reached his mouth. He spit out the cigarette butt that was about to burn in his mouth and then immediately ate as greedily as a nursing baby. Binge drinking.

The warm boiled water with the right temperature was passed through his throat. Malashenko, who was so thirsty that he continued to smoke another cigarette to relieve his addiction. It can be said that the more thirsty he became, the more salt he drank. He drank a full bottle of hot water in one go. After being turned upside down, Malashenko felt like he had been reborn.

"Help me up, Iushkin, my waist is almost broken now."

Iushkin, who followed Malashenko's order, immediately leaned over and stretched out his shoulder towards Malashenko's arms. Iushkin, who put his right hand around Malashenko's right arm, used force to pull it all over. The man was lifted up, and Malashenko, who slowly jumped out of the car, felt the pain in his waist, and then saw the political commissar Petrov who had already walked in front of him.

"Why is it like this? What happened?"

Political Commissar Petrov, who was unable to go to the front line in person due to health reasons, could only use a telescope to observe the situation from the rear starting position. He did not know that Malashenko was continuously carrying Petrov, who had loaded dozens of rounds of artillery shells, inside the narrow tank. The political commissar thought that Malashenko had suffered some kind of injury that led to his current situation.

Weakly, he raised his right arm and waved slightly to indicate that he was fine. After a wave of failed attacks, Malashenko was obviously feeling a little depressed.

"It's okay. I just worked as a porter and moved dozens of shells. I've never seen those Germans so desperate as today, not even in Yelnya. They are no less than those fanatical SS."

Malachenko, who had been driven out by the German reserve troops after four consecutive breakthroughs, could only sigh. Even when he fought with the two SS ace troops, the Guards Flag Division and the Imperial Division, he felt the same way. What Malachenko is most puzzled about now is why the German troops of the Grossdeutschland Infantry Regiment are like crazy.

After hearing Malachenko's sigh, he fell silent. Political Commissar Petrov, who knew clearly why the German army was so desperate, thought for a moment, and after organizing the information network in his mind, he blurted it out without hesitation.

"I just received a telegram from the Front Command ten minutes ago. The German troops besieging the semi-circular offensive circle outside Moscow have now completely retreated. The reason why the Great German Infantry Regiment you encountered fought so hard is probably to buy time for the large troops behind to retreat. Of course, it may also be due to some other reasons that we have not thought of yet. Do you have any ideas?"