Chapter 158 Bloody Cross

Watching the sergeant commander, who had completely lost the ability to move after having a large piece of meat removed from his thigh, being carried away on a stretcher, the horse realized that there was not much time left before the next wave of attacks could begin. Rashenko then turned around and asked the remaining crew members beside him.

"Who among you remaining has the highest rank?"

Facing the question raised by Malashenko, a bearded tank soldier who looked to be in his late thirties immediately stepped forward.

"Gunner Ravorov, rank of sergeant. Please give instructions, comrade battalion commander."

gunner? Why is it the gunner?

After hearing this, Malashenko couldn't help but frown, and after thinking for a moment, he spoke immediately.

"Sergeant Ravolov, have you received professional training courses as a vehicle commander?"

"Accepted, Comrade Battalion Commander. Before being transferred to the First Heavy Tank Breakthrough Battalion, I was the commander and gunner of a T34 medium tank in the original army. I have more than 100 hours of command experience."

The answer from the gunner is undoubtedly the ideal answer that Malashenko hopes for most. In this way, the problem of temporary adaptation of the KV1 heavy tank crew will not be difficult to solve.

"In that case, Sergeant Ravorov, from now on you will serve as the commander of your crew until the end of the battle."

"In battle, you need to take care of the duties of gunner and commander at the same time, but since you have served as the commander of a T34 tank before, I think this is not a problem for you."

"A crew member who is missing one person will definitely have limited strength in battle, so don't force yourself to be heroic, and be sure to act with the large unit. Now the life of the entire crew can be completely controlled by you in battle. It’s up to you to decide, you must be careful, understand?”

Facing Malashenko's last question, the gunner, who knew how to answer, immediately raised his right arm.

"Understood, Comrade Battalion Commander, this is my responsibility."

After finishing this little episode, Malashenko quickly returned to his car and prepared to get on the bus again.

He looked at the driver Seryosha, who was holding a wrench with a thick arm and adjusting the guide wheel on the right front side of the tank, and Nikolai, who was squatting aside to help. Malashenko, who had just put his right arm on the tank turret, was about to open his mouth to say something. When he accidentally glanced at the rear of his tank, Malashenko's eyes couldn't help but freeze there.

Next to the tracks at the rear of the car, which was still warm from the engine, a large pile of bright red human tissue mixed with the smell of blood and twisted together was scattered on the floor.

Needless to say, such a scene must be the result of an unlucky German soldier being killed under the tracks of a KV1 heavy tank with a total combat weight of 47 tons. It stands to reason that Marashin is already accustomed to such a scene. It is impossible for Ke to pay attention to him deliberately.

But among this pile of vague scarlet human flesh, flesh and visceral tissue remains, there is a small piece of dark black metal product that is shining under the refraction of the sun's rays. The refracted light under the sharp color contrast can naturally cause Marathon to Branch's attention.

With the most essential human curiosity in his heart, Malashenko slowly walked forward, bent down, and stretched out his right hand towards the pile of bloody fleshy tissue in front of him without even blinking his eyebrows. His right hand, stained deep scarlet by the wet blood, then gently took out the small dark black metal product.

He casually picked up a relatively clean piece of clothing next to the pile of minced meat and wiped the dark black metal product clean. A first-class Iron Cross medal inlaid with the embossed number 1939 was immediately presented in front of Malashenko.

"Oh, it wasn't crushed by the tank tracks. I really don't know whether it's a miracle or just God's will."

In early 1941, when the Soviet-German War had just broken out, the Iron Cross had not yet reached the level where it was widely distributed in the streets and could even be received by the Children's Army composed of children.

As the first-class Iron Cross, which is a further step above the second-class Iron Cross, there is no doubt that it is difficult to obtain and extremely demanding. It is no exaggeration to describe the first-class Iron Cross as a reward that is obtained by risking one's life. .

No matter how difficult and dangerous the owner of this medal was during his lifetime, he won this medal that symbolized the supreme glory of the German military. But now the holder of this medal has undoubtedly become a A puddle of fuzzy minced meat that couldn't even be distinguished from a human being.

It is no longer appropriate to describe this first-class Iron Cross as a military medal that symbolizes glory.

At the moment, this small metal product that bears the weight of life is just a souvenir in the hands of Malashenko, the victor, and nothing more.

Looking back at the strands of mottled meat and blood still stained in the gaps between the tracks of his car, he could almost conclude that this German soldier was Malashenko who was crushed to a pulp by his own car, so he simply This Iron Cross First Class went directly into his pocket.

"No matter what your name is or what your story is, in the end we are still the same type of people who have reached the same destination through different paths, but that's all."

When Malashenko, who had returned to his car, ordered Seryosha to prepare his car, Zhukov, who was far away in the direction of Gzadsk, where the reserve front rear headquarters was located, also received the latest news. Frontline battle report.

"The tentative attack on the second line of defense was blocked. The Germans deployed sophisticated anti-tank firepower and machine gun positions on the second line of defense. It is expected that the attack will be difficult? What kind of nonsense and idiotic logic is this!"

He crumpled up the telegraph newspaper that had just been handed to him by the Chief of Staff of the Front Army and threw it into the trash can. Zhukov, who had always had a hot temper, was nervous and angry at the moment.

"Call back and tell Rakutin that the new secret weapons and heavy artillery units directly under the front army that I have equipped him are not waiting to parade in the streets after recapturing Yelnya!"

"Use heavy artillery fire to smash the Germans' second defensive position, and then immediately launch an attack! The Germans will continue to bombard as long as there are still living figures on the position. The reason why the attacking troops are blocked can only explain the artillery bombardment he launched. It’s not strong enough. What I want to hear is the news that his 24th Army has invaded Yelnya City! It’s not just these casual excuses!”

Facing Zhukov's obviously displeased words, the chief of staff, who frowned slightly, immediately added something.

"But our leading offensive force, which has just occupied the German first defensive position, is less than one kilometer away from the German second defensive position. If an artillery attack of the size of an army group is launched at this distance, the possibility of accidental damage is Potential problems that cannot be avoided.”