Chapter 1204 Crazy Plan

Although German man-made tanks strive for excellence and exaggerate like polished works of art, they are at least not without merit.

Through Kogin's description, Malashenko can basically figure out what the exhaust fan-type cooling system looks like. Many German tanks have such designs, including the Panther, Tiger, and finally the King Tiger. Using.

Oh, one more thing, Malashenko remembers that the iconic NATO hips of KraussMaffei's Leopard 2 series in later generations also had two cooling exhaust fans that looked like Nvidia graphics cards, nicknamed "gas stoves." This qualified design is still in use even in the 21st century, which shows that there is no big problem.

"I think you should save four of them and give them to me together. It will take some time before I can actually return to the front line. This time I have half a month's vacation."

"Half-month holiday? So what do you plan to do in the next few days?"

"I plan to go home and stay with Natalia. I have been fighting with the Germans on the front line all day long. She is already worried about me at home. She should go back more often."

As Malashenko and Kotin were walking, they had not finished speaking. They accidentally turned their heads and looked forward, only to see a familiar figure: Kalashnikov was curiously in front of a machine tool in the workshop. Watch.

The comrade worker who was in charge of operating the machine tool was pulling a piece that looked like a suspension part. Kalashnikov, who had probably never seen tank production before, stood aside curiously and looked at it with a slightly excited look. Seeing everything that I had never seen before, I still smiled and chatted with the comrade workers beside me and asked how this thing was made.

It was obvious that Kalashnikov was interested in this.

And this was not only seen by Malashenko, but also by Kogin who was standing aside.

"He has a tank crew logo on his collar badge. Is he from your army?"

This time Malashenko brought several entourage, and except for the little female nurse, all of them had the rank of tank soldiers. Kojin took it for granted that the young man in front of him, whose name he did not know yet, was Malashenko. One of Shenke's subordinates.

Hearing Kotin's question on the side, Malashenko realized that it was time to entrust Kotin with the Kalashnikov arrangements. After organizing his words for a while, Malashenko spoke immediately.

"He is not in my army. In 1941, he was a commander of a T34 tank, driving a medium tank. The German anti-tank gun penetrated his vehicle, and his arm nerves were injured and his hand was damaged. He didn't have the strength to hold things tightly, so after he recovered, the military doctor sent him home to let him have a good rest."

"Oh, by the way, his name is Kalashnikov, Mikhail Difrovitch Kalashnikov."

Ke Jin vaguely felt that Malashenko had the purpose of introducing this young man in such detail, but he couldn't guess it for a while, so he could only continue to ask questions while riding a donkey downhill.

"So you're going to take him back to your unit? It looks like he's recovered."

Malashenko smiled.

"No, I plan to hand him over to you and keep him with you, and you have to help me take care of him.

Upon hearing Malashenko's words, Kogin's next expression almost had a question mark written on his face.

"Stay here with me? Take care of him?"

"Yes, that's right."

Looking at Kalashnikov excitedly playing with the newly processed parts, Malashenko, who had a premonition that it was the right move to bring him here, continued to speak to Kotin.

"After he learned that he could not return to the battlefield, he jumped out of the train halfway home and ran to a station depot to make a gun with rudimentary tools. He firmly believed that he could design and manufacture a gun that could Comrades on the front line use light weapons to reduce casualties, and he has this talent and ability. I took a fancy to this and chose to believe in him, so I brought him to you. "

Malashenko's explanation was very clear and straightforward, but it sounded a bit wrong to Kotin.

"Wait, you mean, you want him to stay here to make guns? Am I right?"

Malashenko nodded, smiled and spoke.

"Of course, that's my plan."

""

Kotin, who was speechless, blinked and looked at the young man called Kalashnikov, then looked back at Malashenko beside him to make sure that his good brother was not joking. Then he answered.

"Okay, although it's a bit unexpected, I think it's no problem. I don't have a production line specifically for making guns, but I can provide him with machine tools, excellent tools, and other equipment. If he needs an assistant, I can also provide him with it. Even if it’s for your sake, it’s rare for you to ask me for help.”

"However, I want to know, do you plan to let him build a prototype gun here and then participate in the National Small Arms Design Competition?"

Malashenko, who was about to explain this issue to Kogin, heard the question and got to the point. He simply told everything in his heart without any concealment.

"In fact, I don't plan to let him participate in the National Small Arms Design Competition. Instead, I will directly build the quantity I need here, bypassing the selection of the National Small Arms Design Competition and directly equip my troops. I believe he can succeed, and he The designed weapon can be proven to be of great use in the future, and then I believe that his work will be selected to become the next generation of the Red Army’s standard rifle.”

""

Malashenko's wishful thinking was so bold and unconstrained that Kotin was so shocked that he was speechless.

Although he wanted to say that this plan was impossible and crazy, Kotin, who was full of curiosity, decided to be patient and ask Malashenko how many he wanted to make. If the quantity was not too large, he would still have room for compromise.

"How many guns do you want from him? I mean to deliver them to you from me."

Malashenko said nothing, just raised a finger to Kotin.

"Ten?"

Kotin felt that this quantity was the limit of what he could compromise under his authority. If it was more, something would definitely go wrong, and he might end up in trouble, but Malashenko shook his head calmly.

"Oh my God, you don't want him to make a hundred, do you? That's impossible!"

Who would have thought that Malashenko's real plan was even bolder than this, and the answer he gave next almost made Kotin's jaw drop.

"I want him to build enough to equip at least one battalion, starting from you. If the number is too small, it cannot reflect the role of large-scale combat, and each crew must be equipped with some as a replacement new self-defense weapon. How about it? Can you help me with this?"

If you want to say what Kotin felt at this time, if you use words to describe it, it can only be that Malashenko is crazy! Or the kind of crazy that can implicate himself.

The voice suddenly increased a lot of decibels, and even mixed with some words of unbelievable and incredible tone, and then blurted out from Kotin's mouth.

"Are you crazy? Malashenko! You want me to make you a battalion of non-standard, experimental rifles at one time without any approval from the superiors or production targets, and send them to the frontline troops for direct deployment!? If something goes wrong, you and I will be in big trouble! We will both become saboteurs of the motherland, even if you are a favorite of Marshal Zhukov and a Soviet hero!"

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