Chapter 350 Rekindling the War

Iushkin, who kept talking, also had his hands free. He raised his hand and dug into the inner layer of his thick cotton coat. Iushkin then took out two bags of trophies that he carried with him, like this At least nearly twenty packs of things were kicked on him.

"That's it, Comrade Commander, you see, the whole pack of cigarettes these Germans are carrying is much stronger than the rolled tobacco we distribute."

He took the square box of cigarettes wrapped in hard wrapping paper from the right hand that Iushkin handed to him. In Malashenko's opinion, this boxy and relatively short cigarette box shape It's rather like some kind of Chinese cigarette that I had before time travel.

"Why does this German guy smoke so much like the Black Hibiscus King?"

Malashenko, who was reporting such secret slander in his heart, remained calm on his face. It was a rare blessing to be able to taste the taste of German cigarettes.

"Here you go, smoke this, don't waste it."

He handed the cigarette that was only a third of the way lit to Iushkin and ignored the latter's greedy look on his face as he smoked heavily. Malashenko immediately opened the packaging box of the German cigarettes in his hand and tore it open. After packaging, the extraordinary appearance immediately appeared in front of Malashenko.

"It's strange, it's really strange! The German's cigarette is actually oval-shaped. Is the person who designed this shape a genius?"

The vast majority of cigarettes in the world, including hand-rolled cigarettes rolled by oneself, are cylindrical, but the cigarettes distributed by the German army are actually oval in shape. This unique shape design further inspired Malashenko's idea. The desire to take a bite and taste it quickly.

"Perhaps Iushkin ripped this off from some German officer. I have to try it quickly."

He took out a cigarette without a filter tip and put it into his mouth. Malashenko, who was already impatient, quickly raised his hand and pressed the lighter to light the flame.

With the flickering of tobacco flames, Malashenko, who originally had an expectant expression on his face, quickly took a turn for the worse like a roller coaster, and his increasingly frozen expression was even more ferocious than eating shit.

"Bah! Ahem! What kind of shit is this German guy smoking!? Is this thing made of tobacco soaked in feces!? How can it be so difficult to smoke!"

After raising his hand to light it, Malashenko took a few sharp breaths to avoid being coughed out of his lungs by the choking smell. This indescribable smell was just like lighting a pile of horse dung and then burning it. He put his nose to the nearest distance and took a deep breath. Malashenko, who knew that the German army in 1941 had sufficient logistical supplies, could not believe that this was something seized from a German.

"Iushkin, where did you get this thing? Damn it, this thing chokes me."

Looking at Malashenko's ferocious expression, he couldn't help covering his mouth and snickering, but Malashenko, who was coughing crazily, saw the gloating expression on Iushkin's face out of the corner of his eye.

"Damn it, Iushkin! You kid tricked me with fake cigarettes!"

Seeing that Malashenko, who was holding his chest and heaving violently with his hands, was about to get angry, Iushkin, who knew that he had gone too far, hurriedly waved his hands and explained.

"No, no, no, listen to me, Comrade Commander. These are genuine German cigarettes, I swear, and they should be of a higher quality, because I searched more than thirty boxes of cigarettes and there were only three of them. But the German cigarettes are really hard to smoke. When I first started smoking, I was like you and wanted to throw them all away.”

"But then I thought about it, even if it tastes bad, it's much better than the cigarettes rolled by myself, so I kept it in the end. I'm used to smoking it these days. It just tastes stronger, so it's okay."

Malashenko, who was doubtful of Iushkin's words, raised his hand again and took a look at the cigarette case in his palm. The neatly cut off cigarette holder was indeed the mark left by machine cutting rather than hand-rolled cigarettes. Two words were engraved on it. The cigarette box with ears of wheat and a few lines in German or some other inscription is indeed an industrial assembly line product. This at least shows that what Iushkin said is true.

"Forget it, I can't stand the strange smell of German cigarettes. This smell is like no other. It's worse than the five yuan a pack of cigarettes I get from Datian Dynasty."

Malashenko, who was complaining like this in his heart, was no longer interested in the pack of cigarettes captured by the German army in his hand. Most of the remaining cigarettes that he could not finish were thrown into the snow with a flick of his hand and extinguished instantly. , Iushkin, who was holding an almost burnt cigarette butt in his mouth, felt heartbroken when he saw this scene.

"This is such a waste, Comrade Commander, if you don't like smoking, you can give it to me."

"Don't worry, no one will fight with you, just hold these German horse manure cigarettes and smoke them until you faint."

I really couldn't understand why German cigarettes were so difficult to smoke. Malashenko, who had no interest in smoking at all, then threw the cigarette box in his hand back into Iushkin's arms and was about to get off the car and return to the entrance of the village. As soon as Malashenko jumped out of the car while looking at the situation of his troops, Lieutenant Colonel Yakov's galloping figure burst into Malashenko's field of vision.

Seeing Yakov's galloping movements, Malashenko, who realized that he was spoiled, could almost smell the coming corpses and blood from the air.

Just as Malashenko expected, Lieutenant Colonel Yakov, who ran all the way to a halt in front of Malashenko, immediately raised the telegraph newspaper in his hand and suddenly spoke.

"There is an urgent call from the Front Army Headquarters, Comrade Malashenko. The Germans have just captured Istria, and are less than 24 kilometers away from Moscow. They are expected to continue moving towards Moscow soon. Now use it to block them." The only thing that separates the road to Moscow is the Volga Canal. The Front Army Headquarters requires your Guards Tank Regiment to move to this area immediately to drive the Germans out. My regiment will accompany you to cooperate with the counterattack. "

Malashenko, who was shocked to death by the astonishing words blurted out from Lieutenant Colonel Yakov's mouth and felt as if he was in a trance, stared blankly for three seconds before reacting.

"Istria? Damn it! Aren't those Germans frozen and unable to move their tanks? How come they still have the ability to continue attacking!?"

He grabbed the telegram handed over by Lieutenant Colonel Yakov and quickly read it at a glance. Lieutenant Colonel Yakov, who knew that the situation at hand was imminent, continued to speak.

"Not only Istria, but German troops from several directions are now resuming their fierce attack on Moscow. Although this is not a full-scale attack, it is at least certain that some German armored forces have received the winter supplies they need."