Chapter 1243 "Rude Russians"

Malachenko was not surprised that he was interviewed by reporters. What was really surprising was that even the Americans and the British came to interview him now? He did not know much about this. Did such a thing really happen in history?

No matter what Malachenko thought, the task assigned by Zhukov had to be completed. Accepting interviews with American and British reporters had become an inevitable thing. What should really be considered was how to deal with the task and pass this level.

But when parting with Zhukov, Malachenko still had one thing to do: to give two things to Comrade Lao Zhu.

The first thing was the "Luxury Supreme Noble" version of the artillery Luger pistol that Malachenko seized last time in Stalingrad, or a set to be more appropriate.

This extremely special Luger pistol was originally intended by Malachenko to be given to Lao Zhu as a gift, but after parting in Stalingrad, it was really difficult to see Comrade Lao Zhu again. Now Malachenko has finally waited for the opportunity.

"This gun is very beautiful. Where did you get it?"

Comrade Zhu is not the kind of person who will accept "bribes" casually, but Malashenko, who is very picky about gifts, is not an ordinary person.

The first gift he gave went straight to Zhu's heart. Zhukov liked this rare and precious artillery Luger that was passed down from his father, a Junker noble, to his son.

Click--

Crack--

"Not bad, very good! You can tell it's a good gun just by the sound!"

Watching Zhukov assemble the buttstock and pull the elbow to hang it on the empty chamber in a slightly groping and first-time attempt, Malashenko, who was in the same room with Zhu, could naturally hear the crisp metal collision sound that would make any man intoxicated.

This wonderful sound is enough to make all real men hard to refuse. Every syllable and every note sounds so healing, even more fascinating than the whispering of the goddess in the dream.

"It was a coincidence, Comrade Marshal."

"In Stalingrad, we happened to wipe out a well-equipped German commando. These fascists wanted to sneak attack the army headquarters and play a decapitation operation, but they fell into our hands instead. The German officer who led the team happened to have such a gun, and the gun also had relief decorations that those pedantic aristocrats liked, which was very rare."

"I thought you would like it, so I kept it on purpose. It has been so long that I almost forgot about it, but fortunately I remembered it in time."

Malachenko had nothing to hide, and he directly stated that he meant to give a gift.

Comrade Lao Zhu found it difficult to refuse Malachenko's "gift".

Such a gun is indeed a rare treasure that can be encountered but not sought. Those German officers have already taken a fancy to the Luger P08, and the artillery version of the Luger with an extended barrel is even rarer. This is the first time even Comrade Zhu has seen an artillery Luger pistol with a complete set of accessories and a embossed gun body. As a real man, it would be a lie to say that he doesn't like it.

"It's really hard to refuse, Malashenko, I have to admit this this time."

Zhukov took off the empty magazine, removed the buttstock, and put the Luger and buttstock back into the holster and put them away properly. This is considered to be formally accepting Malashenko's gift.

"Okay, I accept your gift, but what is this?"

Zhukov picked up a report, which was exactly the important thing that Malashenko had promised Karamov before and really handed over to Zhukov.

"This is a device designed by the head of my field maintenance regiment, Comrade Marshal."

"It can be used to allow members inside the tank to communicate directly with the infantry outside. It is a wired call, and it can realize two-way calls. It is a very simple electric bell reminder device with a loud enough sound."

"In Stalingrad, we tried a simple version of this device for the first time, and it showed an unimaginable improvement in combat effectiveness. With it, the coordination between infantry and tanks will be closer, and there will no longer be a situation where tanks and infantry can only rely on tacit understanding to guess in battle."

"Based on my actual combat experience, I judge that this device will be very useful! And it is made of very simple materials, which is convenient for large-scale production in wartime. If possible, I hope to promote this device in all tank units of the Red Army. This will greatly reduce the casualties of the soldiers, both tank soldiers and infantry. I hope you can help promote it."

Accompanied by Malashenko's explanation, Zhukov spread out the hand-painted design drawing as big as a newspaper in his hand and read it carefully. The design of the components and the conductive circuits on it are clearly marked, and the drawings are quite professional. Even the functional descriptions of individual components are attached where necessary, which is enough for Zhukov to understand clearly with Malashenko's explanation.

"It seems that there are rare and valuable talents in your troops, Malashenko. The drawing level of this map is already up to the level of the design bureau."

Faced with Zhukov's unhesitating truth, Malashenko could only scratch his head with a smile. Karamov, who had studied in the tank design bureau and the machinery factory, did have a commendable professional level and talent.

"I will take the things back and find other more professional people to look at and study them. If it is indeed effective, I will submit a report to Comrade Stalin personally. The things described on the drawings do have a great effect."

With Zhukov's personal promise, this major event that will benefit the entire Red Army once realized can officially come to an end.

Next, Malashenko is about to face that group of "Western reporters" who give people a headache just thinking about it.

Next to the heavy equipment station some distance away from Malashenko's current location, a tall, thin, white-faced guy who had obviously been roughed up just now was shouting loudly at the Red Army soldier who had snatched his camera not far away.

"Hey! This is so rude! You can't do this, give me my camera back! Hey, hey!!!"

Several Red Army soldiers who did not understand English at all walked away with the "trophies" they had just captured without even looking back. They were obviously too lazy to pay attention to the British guy who was yelling something strange.

Seeing that his "protest" was ineffective, the British reporter was so angry that his nostrils were enlarged and he was spitting out white air. He put his hands on his hips and then started to complain to his accompanying colleagues.

"Look at these rude and disrespectful Russians! This is how they treat their benefactors. The tanks and planes that our British Empire gave them as support were all given away for free. I must write an article to expose their ugly faces and the truth!"

Compared with the incompetent rage of this young, lanky boy, the other middle-aged man leading the team with a capitalist-style mustache had a calm face, as if the scene of violently snatching away the camera just should have happened. Not surprising at all.

"Charlie, I told you before. Don't take random pictures of those Russian weapons and equipment. Have you forgotten the last time the Americans took random pictures of fighter jets?"

Even though he knew that what he was doing was against the rules, it was the unique pride and dissatisfaction of young people that still made the young British reporter, who was called Charlie, feel indignant.

"The Russian fighter jets are secret, so are their tanks? If we can't take any exclusive photos on this trip, why do we come to this freezing Russian hell place? Wow! Damn it, God, I'm tired of the heat in this damn place! I don't know how those Russians managed it."

Charlie's camera was confiscated by a Russian sentry for taking pictures everywhere, but that didn't matter.

Martin, who has a capitalist mustache, believed that after the Russians took away the film and inspected it, they would naturally return the camera to them.

What we need to do now is to calm down this little guy who wanted to make big news but was slapped in the face by the Russians. You must know that he is the son of the editor-in-chief, so you have to comfort him for his father's sake.

"Calm down, Charlie. The Russians will show us what they can take. Now you should think about how to interview the Russian general later. It is not easy to get this opportunity."