Chapter 1508 Tiger Roar Scarlet

By the time Kurbalov reported, Malashenko had commanded his troops to advance at least five or six hundred meters on the battlefield ruins covered by artillery fire.

Although they were advancing slowly and not letting go of any details that might be overlooked, advancing five or six hundred meters in the enemy-occupied area was not a short distance.

Malashenko no longer cared about the rotten blood and flesh that could be seen everywhere on the ground. What Malashenko really wanted to know was how many of these SS bastards were still alive? Why haven't these remaining ones come out yet? Where are these bastards hiding?

"Fuck, it's getting more and more wrong! I don't believe that these SS bastards can really die! I don't believe they can't be found!"

With such a firm idea in his heart, Malashenko did not change the order he issued. The Red Army troops, coordinated by infantry and tanks and lined up in a row, continued to advance forward at a uniform speed and be alert to the surroundings.

The tanks armed with steel bodies were actually quite good. The most uncomfortable ones were the Red Army infantry soldiers following closely behind the tanks.

When you stepped on the wet and slippery minced meat and debris with your military boots, which might knock you to the ground, the soft, elastic and quite slippery touch from the soles of your feet was really not as simple as just saying it was disgusting.

"Ugh, I feel like I can't stand it! This is simply a meat slaughterhouse with potholes. Where can you find something like this on the battlefield?"

Some younger Red Army soldiers with poor tolerance were the first to have physical reactions and were about to collapse. The veterans who were traveling with them did not say much, most of them just watched coldly and continued to move forward. Only those veterans who had a good relationship with the recruits could give a piece of advice.

"Bear with it, it's better than lying on the ground and assimilating with these things. No matter how bad the smell is, it won't kill you, so look at it and keep moving forward."

Stalin's 1st Guards Tank Division still has many old members brought out from Stalingrad by Malashenko. These surviving veterans who were recruited from the troops dispersed in the city after the Battle of Stalingrad have reached an unprecedented level in terms of personal combat quality and psychological endurance.

For the scene in front of them, these veterans who have experienced hundreds of battles were only surprised for a short while at the beginning, and then they were able to adjust themselves quickly like their division commanders, without reminders or help from others, and their self-discipline was quite strong.

It's not that these veterans were not touched much or felt disgusted. No one could remain indifferent and like a wooden man in the face of this situation. If there really is such a person, it is probably either a murderer or a complete pervert. For example, the most evil SS scum in the Auschwitz concentration camp is probably this kind of person.

The reason why these veterans acted indifferent and had no ups and downs in their expressions was simply because their past combat experience silently told them: If you don't want to be one of them, you'd better cheer up, do what you should do, and never take it lightly.

The bullets that suddenly came in the middle of the night could kill you at any time. At that time, you might not even know how you died. The last consciousness before death would only leave the sigh and self-regret for the broken meat on the ground. It's that simple.

The troops were still searching and advancing slowly in the standard posture of infantry and tank coordination. Malashenko, who had been silently estimating the distance of advancement based on the speed of the troops, felt that at present, they had advanced at least more than one kilometer in depth, no more and no less.

If there was no resistance from the Germans, then Malashenko might really have to admit that Iushkin guessed right and he was wrong.

Maybe the first-level destructive artillery bombardment of the front that lasted for a whole hour completely destroyed the already half-crippled Viking Division and the Ni Panzergrenadiers Brigade.

After all, judging from the numerous huge craters and broken flesh and limbs that have continued to spread all the way to the present, the destructive bombardment that the Germans encountered is probably unprecedented.

Malashenko, who was holding the commander's periscope, has actually been thinking since just now, wondering if he really underestimated the power of the front-level field artillery cluster.

Especially when this absolutely destructive artillery coverage prepared for a battle at the campaign level was hit in an area of ​​less than five square kilometers and lasted for a full hour, what kind of scene would it be?

Malashenko had never encountered such a situation, and his past experience and memories from his previous life were of no use. Malashenko's heart was really complicated and hesitant now. He didn't know whether he had made a wrong judgment or the Germans were too shrewd and had a backhand, hiding somewhere, perhaps in the darkness not far ahead, weaving a conspiracy and waiting for him to pass.

"Damn it, the more I think about it, the more annoyed I get! I don't want to think about it anymore! No matter what the result is, I just don't believe that these SS cripples can kill me?"

Just when Malashenko had such thoughts and was about to completely clear away the troubles in his heart, a sudden and huge change suddenly came at this moment.

Boom--

Swish--

Ding--

The whistling sound of the cannonball flying through the air with a very fast initial velocity was first heard, followed by the deafening sound of the tank's violent explosion, and faintly accompanied by the roaring roar of the cannon coming from not too far away.

"Report the situation! What's going on!?"

Malachenko, who had been holding the radio transmitter in his hand, spoke almost instantly and subconsciously. Kurbalov, who was on standby at the other end of the radio, reacted quickly and answered immediately.

"At two o'clock on the right side, the German armor-piercing shells! A T34 in the front was killed! It's not clear whether it is a tank gun or an anti-tank gun, just preparing..."

Swish--

Ding--

"Damn! It's coming again!!!"

Before Kurbalov could finish his words, another piercing whistle from the darkness interrupted his speech, accompanied by a dull bang of the armor-piercing shell hitting the tank armor plate.

"Kurbalov!? Answer! What happened? How are you!?"

Malachenko could judge from this dull bang at a very close distance that the vehicle hit by the German's shot was definitely Kurbalov's own command vehicle.

Fortunately, the IS4 heavy tank's almost invincible defense on the battlefield was not something that the current German anti-tank weapons could handle. Kurbalov, who spoke again, quickly responded to Malashenko.

"It was hit by one bullet, but it didn't penetrate! It was the German Tiger King, I saw it!!!"