Chapter 1159 The sunset

The unsatisfied SS troops retreated, just as they failed to win in previous battles with Stalin's Guards 1st Heavy Tank Brigade. Even this time, the retreat was faster than before.

The more intense the battle, the more people can forget the concept of time. Malashenko has personally experienced this situation countless times and understands it well, so after the battle, he raised his head and saw the sunset on the horizon.

All Malashenko could do was sigh. This day, which felt more torturous than a week or even a month, finally passed with barely holding on to the position.

Malashenko was convinced that the SS troops who had suffered heavy losses must regroup, conscientiously build a passable campsite, slowly lick their wounds, recuperate and prepare for tomorrow's offensive.

Of course, the Germans will inevitably use the gap from dusk to night to make up for their mistakes during the day. The SS, who have a strong force in their hands, wants to surround this useless and beaten-up small village. What a difficult thing.

After repelling the enemy, it was indeed possible to break through, but Malashenko quickly gave up this unrealistic idea after thinking about it.

The battle had just ended and there was no time to count the results. The troops couldn't get up quickly with so many jars and a large number of wounded. What's more important is that Malashenko doesn't have much capital left to break through. The losses in the battle just now haven't had time to count the results, but it is inevitable that the losses are not small.

Faced with an absolute advantage and an eyeing enemy flanking him from both sides, it was impossible for Malashenko to arrange so many troops to quietly break out from under the enemy's nose.

And once the SS soldiers, who were like sharks that smelled blood, heard the news, they rushed towards the breakout troops who had left their positions. Malashenko repeatedly asked himself countless times but still couldn't find the possibility of a successful breakout. The opponent's mechanization level was no less than his own and the total force was far greater than his own.

What's more important is that Malashenko really can't afford to lose. As long as he loses one more time, even if it's just a small mistake, the outcome Malashenko will face will be the inevitable fall into the abyss. By the way, they also took the lives of the 1st Stalin Guards Heavy Tank Brigade and the friendly 9th Guards Airborne Division.

Looking at the still-smoldering ruins of the battlefield, Malashenko thought over and over again and even felt that the commanders of the SS troops on the opposite side must be eager to see him break away from the defensive position and break out of the encirclement. Because only in this way can the fascist fanatics maximize their strength advantage in open areas.

If he were the SS commander, Malashenko asked himself that he would probably very much hope for such a situation.

Although it seems extremely stupid to continue to guard this shabby little village and wait for death, but as far as the current situation is concerned, Malashenko really can't find a better way.

The so-called breakout is just a catalyst for hastening death at the moment.

The injured soldiers were rushed to the field hospital for emergency treatment and wound treatment. Those soldiers who were not injured or had only minor injuries or scratches were in twos and threes holding melee weapons, cleaning the battlefield and checking those. Among the SS soldiers who rushed to the street, were there any who deliberately pretended to be dead or just passed out?

In large-scale position battles, such situations are not uncommon. There are many unlucky people who are knocked unconscious by artillery shells or grenades and later wake up.

With luck, the soldiers might be able to bring back a few prisoners for Malashenko who could pry something out of his mouth, provided that the Fascist fanatic didn't go crazy and resist as soon as he was captured. If this is the case, then the Red Army soldiers who captured him will naturally be happy to reward this idiot with a gun, and almost no one will choose to refuse to send the SS on the road.

Malashenko moved his steps back and forth to inspect the position. When he saw a stretcher passing by him with injured soldiers lying on it, Malashenko would take the initiative to step forward as long as the distance was slightly closer. , to express condolences and encouragement to the brave and fearless soldiers.

However, there are only a few soldiers who can survive, or there are not many soldiers who can survive until the end of the battle and be rescued.

Malashenko, who was walking forward step by step on a position full of bomb craters, came to the wreckage of an IS2 heavy tank that had been devoured by flames and turned into a dark coffin.

This destroyed IS2 heavy tank, which had obviously suffered an ammunition explosion, was obviously completely scrapped. The flames sprayed from the inside out had even the solid armor plate completely blackened. Malashenko took off the glove on his right hand and reached forward, wiping it lightly. Blackened smoke stains nearly half a centimeter thick were directly covered in Malashenko's hands.

"It seems that it has been burning for a long time, otherwise it wouldn't be like this."

It is unknown whether the combustibles burned out and extinguished themselves, or whether other soldiers stepped forward to extinguish the flames of the wreckage. In short, the black steel wreckage is no longer burning.

Malashenko walked around the wreckage and took two more steps forward. Then he saw several tank soldiers busy at the front of the wreckage. He seemed to be unaware of his arrival, who was quietly moving and had not yet made a sound.

"Is this car yours? Comrades."

As soon as Malashenko spoke, several soldiers who were busy in front of the wreckage immediately turned around.

"Hello, comrade brigade commander! Second Lieutenant Shevaev, commander of No. 124, 1st Platoon, 2nd Company, 1st Tank Battalion, is leading the entire vehicle crew to report to you!"

"Um"

Malashenko, who felt a little tired, did not respond with too many greetings. He just raised his hand and saluted the young commander, and then repeated the words he just said again and asked.

"Is this car your car?"

Seeing the brigade commander pointing to the burnt remains of the IS2 heavy tank next to him, the commander named Shevaev just shook his head with a wry smile and replied.

"No, Comrade Brigade Commander. Our tanks are over there, look."

Looking in the direction of Shevayev's finger, Malashenko saw an IS2 heavy tank with a raised barrel and an open top, parked about forty or fifty meters away from him.

"Then this tank doesn't belong to you. Are you here to count the battle damage?"

As he spoke, Malashenko took out the cigarette case from his pocket, took out a handful of cigarettes, and distributed one cigarette to each of the tank soldiers and Commander Shevaev present, including himself of course. Something in the mouth.