Chapter 858 Do you understand Russian?

5 kilograms of TNT charge cannot destroy the IS1 heavy tank that even the 88-gun cannon can't shake at medium and long distances, but it is enough to break the tracks and paralyze these forty-ton steel behemoths with broken legs. They can't move on the spot. No.

Malashenko, who commanded the troops and led the infantry back to the first defensive position that had been captured, was in a bad mood. He held a telescope in his hand and looked at the second defensive position within his field of vision. Those Romanians were there. The scene of hurriedly filling gaps, transporting weapons and ammunition, and rescuing the wounded on the position seemed almost a mockery to Malashenko.

"Bunch of bloody Romanians"

Malashenko, still holding the telescope in his hand, just lowered his arms and seemed to be preparing to do something while muttering.

Lavrinenko, who had disappeared without a trace since the moment he returned to the position, suddenly walked in quickly with two soldiers from the entrance trench connecting the dilapidated observation post. Two heavily armed soldiers were holding hands. There was also a poor Romanian officer in custody.

"According to what you said, Malashenko, among the more than a hundred prisoners captured, this boy is the biggest, and he is a second lieutenant. What are you going to do?"

Lavrinenkoti slipped the poposa in his hand, just like a vegetable seller in the market introducing the goods he brought, introducing the escorted Romanian second lieutenant to Malashenko who was very close in front of him.

Malashenko, who learned preliminary information from his old classmate, turned around and began to look up and down without saying a word, searching for any information he needed from the Romanian second lieutenant.

There was no military cap or helmet on the messy henhouse-like head, leaving only the medium-length thick black hair standing up, as if it had just been struck by lightning.

There was a cut as long as a little finger on the face covered in blood and mud, and there was an obviously swollen bruise on the forehead. It looked like a wound from shrapnel, and he received a righteous shot for disobedience. Yes, Malashenko, who nodded slightly and spoke slowly, felt that this should be the case.

"Can you understand Russian?"

Malashenko's words were full of ice and without any emotion. For a prisoner of war who had just fallen into the hands of the enemy, such words were even colder than the cold wind of more than 20 degrees below zero outside. .

"Understood, I can speak Russian, Mr. Colonel! There is no need for an interpreter. Just ask me questions and I will answer everything."

The Romanian second lieutenant, who was kneeling on the ground with his shoulders pressed down, looked a little anxious. He was eager to prove himself to Malashenko, so he wanted to stretch out his hands to show body language.

Although this was just a subconscious move in desperation, the two soldiers escorting the enemy didn't think so. They raised their legs and kicked them in size 46 winter thickened wide-soled military boots along their backs.

"Stay there! You bitch! Who told you to move?"

The Romanian officer who lost his balance in an instant and was kicked over fell forward and fell to Malashenko's feet. The whole broken face he brought with him took a mouthful of the frozen soil on the ground, which was full of fishy smell. He struggled and his body just turned. He looked up and saw a cold, smiling face floating in front of his eyes.

"Hey, listen. I still have a lot of important things to do, such as capturing all your commanders and comrades on the opposite side and sending them to the prisoner of war camp to keep you company."

"You are very smart, so I am not interested in killing you for the time being. As for you, you only need to answer my questions and cooperate with me. Saving time will be beneficial to both of us. Do you think so?"

The Romanian second lieutenant, who was still crawling on the ground, almost forgot that he wanted to stand up just now. He just crawled to the ground in an extremely embarrassed posture and listened to Malashenko's instructions with his head half tilted. His instinctive desire to survive crossed the line. The thinking in the brain circuit drove the somewhat stiff body to nod subconsciously.

"Very good. It seems that my assessment is correct. You are a smart man."

Malashenko reached out and patted the Romanian second lieutenant on the face. He seemed to have some bad taste, as if he was rewarding a stray dog ​​wagging his tail on the roadside by throwing a piece of food. He took out two cigarettes from the cigarette box he took out and put them in. He stuffed one into the other person's mouth and lit it up for the Romanian second lieutenant who had forgotten to reach out to take the cigarette.

"Now listen, question number one."

"Anti-tank mines are deployed on your second defensive position. Tell me the depth, width, and coverage area of ​​the minefield."

Malashenko, who did not want to waste his words, spoke concisely and to the point. The Romanian second lieutenant, who still forgot to get up with a cigarette in his mouth, immediately answered without thinking.

"Those mines were not laid by us, but by the Germans. The German engineers sent a platoon over three days ago and spent almost a whole day laying them by themselves."

"The mines they deployed were all brought here by themselves. We didn't even think of setting up a minefield between the first and second positions before. This is simply crazy! The commander of our division even had a fight with the Germans about this. I made a big quarrel because this meant that the people on the first line had no way out."

"But those Germans were very tough. They said that soldiers should think about how to fight first rather than how to retreat. We had to listen to the arrangements of those Germans, and in the end things became what they are now."

Lavrinenko, who pulled up a broken chair and sat aside to listen, put the gun on his shoulder, reached out with a lighter to light a cigarette for himself, and spoke quietly to Malashenko.

"It seems that those Germans don't care about the life or death of their dogs. The more people the dogs can bite to death, the better. Anyway, they didn't intend to keep the dogs alive in the first place."

Turning his head to look at Lavrinenko who was speaking silently, he responded with an indifferent smile. Malashenko, who was noncommittal and did not answer, then continued to ask questions to the Romanian second lieutenant in front of him.

"You mean it should be a mixed minefield, right? Tell me the ratio of anti-tank mines and anti-infantry mines."

""

"I don't know much about this. I just know that there are about three large minefields, connected by small scattered minefields in the middle. The main minefield is in front of the second position. It is less than one kilometer deep, and those German We only have one platoon of engineers, and they borrowed some engineers from us. They don’t have enough manpower, so they can arrange it like this at its limit, and they were busy until dark. "

Before Malashenko could answer, Lavrinenko, holding a cigarette in his hand, took the lead in expressing his opinion.

"You are holding a white flag through the minefield to prove that you are not lying. Anyway, you Romanians will not shoot and kill your own people, right?"