Chapter 864 Primitive Instinct

The battle that did not take too long was over. The Romanian army, holding the tattered weapons issued by the Germans, was inevitably defeated in the end, just as Malashenko once told the front commander Vatutin on the phone. As guaranteed.

Malashenko's car was parked next to the 150mm heavy howitzer that had made him so angry not long ago. The third and final core position of the Romanian army had been completely defeated and there was no need to pursue it. Just stand ready in the occupied position and be prepared to repel the Germans who will attack soon.

Only this German-made 150mm heavy howitzer, only this broken gun that destroyed two IS1 heavy tanks one after another, is what Malashenko cares about most at the moment.

None of the corpses that fell to the ground and died next to the cannon were intact. The power of the 85 mm full-caliber hooded armor-piercing bullets hitting the flesh and blood human body was no longer terrifying. It was a stand-alone thing that could rival "anti-humanity" At a high level, it is a complete destruction of the human body.

Malashenko, who had already gotten out of the car, squatted next to the nearest pile of rotten blood, rotten flesh, and paste-like objects, and used the blade of the saber he pulled out of his boot to scratch the pile of smelly rotten flesh in front of him.

"They are not Romanians. Why would a group of German artillerymen stay on the Romanian positions to work hard? Is it now fashionable for owners to work for dogs?"

Lavrinenko, who came from a short distance away, saw the good man's head dumped on the roadside like a bag of garbage.

The manure spoon on the head is not the wide-brimmed steel helmet that is the iconic feature of the Romanian army, but the M35 that is only worn by the German army.

The bastards who controlled this 150mm heavy howitzer to shoot at their own side turned out to be a group of real Germans. This result really surprised Lavrinenko, who regarded all the enemies as Romanians.

Compared with Lavrinenko's unexpected look, Malashenko, who was squatting on the ground and playing with a pile of rotten organs and meat in front of him with a knife blade, didn't have much surprise.

"With that kind of reloading speed in a combat situation, I guessed from the moment the second shot was fired that these bastards were not those Romanian ghosts. They couldn't achieve such a high reloading speed with such low combat quality. and reaction speed.”

Malashenko used the blade of his knife to find something in the pile of meat. He swung the tip of the knife and picked it gently. A bloody lighter tied with a fine iron chain flew straight in the direction of Lavrinenko.

Lavrinenko, who reacted quickly enough, instantly raised his right hand and grabbed the lighter flying towards him in mid-air. He put it directly in the palm of his hand through a layer of winter combat gloves without bothering to get dirty.

"June 22"

Lavrinenko, who was staring at the inscription on the lighter in his hand and muttering to himself, had not yet reacted. He had already picked up half of his arm on the ground, wiped the blood with a clean sleeve on his arm, and Malashenko, who sheathed his sword, followed him. Open your mouth.

"The day when the French surrendered, a festive day for the Germans. Maybe the thing in your hand was made in France. If I were you, I would clean it and put it away as a souvenir. It can also be used for lighting cigarettes. "

Lavrinenko glanced at Malashenko with a lighter in his hand and grinned. This indeed sounded like a good idea.

"We fought very well in this battle. Only one new tank was a total irreparable loss. Karamov has already led people to deal with those tanks that can be repaired. I think you should report this matter, no matter what. This can be considered a miracle.”

Malashenko, who was no longer interested in the pile of rotten meat, returned to the tank with his old classmate. He put his right arm on the body of the tank and looked thoughtful at first, then spoke.

"If it were those German guys, I might be happy for a while, but it's really easy for these Romanian guys to fight."

"There are no suitable weapons, the combat quality is low, and the artillery support is so weak that it is almost non-existent. The artillery positions will be eaten by our artillery as soon as they fire. The barely passing fighting will is of little use. "

As he spoke, Malashenko slowly raised his head and glanced at the dark cloudy sky above where the sun could not be seen. An almost foreseeable snowstorm was coming soon. The howling wind around him was much stronger than the wind during the battle just now. Undiminished at all, the intensity remains the same.

"As well as the German air force who were scared off by the blizzard. Who knows if they deliberately didn't want to give these Romanian ghosts a fire. There was no suspense from the moment the battle started."

Lavrinenko, who still had a smile on his lips, listened while he took out the cigarette case in his pocket and took out two of them. While leaving one for himself, he also handed one of the cigarettes to Malashenko. root.

"What you say makes sense, but this is at least a real victory. We were the first to break through and occupy the enemy's core position, faster than other friendly troops around us. You must know that our main attack direction is here. , it is enough to prove that our brigade is the best.”

But all male creatures on the earth must have a competitive spirit.

To trace the origin, this is the primitive instinct of male creatures to show their powerful side to females in order to ensure that their genes can be passed on, with the ultimate goal of competing for mating rights, and to prove their strength by defeating their male counterparts.

When human beings evolve true wisdom and ideology and break away from the stage of primitive humans.

The primal instinct to be competitive is still preserved, especially in the military, a group full of bloody and violent genes.

It is true that we are all comrades-in-arms, but comrades-in-arms also want to rank and distinguish themselves based on who has the bigger fist and who is stronger.

The armies of the East are like this, and the armies of the West are certainly like this. All regular military organizations in the world are like this. Respecting the strong is the eternal truth among all armies on this planet.

The 1st Heavy Tank Breakthrough Battalion is an elite vanguard, and the 1st Heavy Tank Breakthrough Regiment of the Guards is the elite among the elite.

Lavrinenko, who is accustomed to the feeling of being the first and the strong, even after being nominated by Malashenko to be promoted to lieutenant colonel and deputy brigade commander, he still inherited the mentality of the past and wanted to continue to be the first and enjoy the victory. The feeling of being seen as elite and heroic in the eyes of others.

Malashenko, who is familiar with and understands Lavrinenko's performance in two different timelines, is not surprised by this. In other words, even Malashenko himself enjoys this feeling very much and is intoxicated with it.

Although the halo of heroes above your head must bear its weight, there are still countless passionate and courageous people throughout the ages who have continued to work hard and never tire of it.

The so-called primitive instinct is probably like this.