Chapter 1669 An M Is Added After the Name

There are 16 brand-new IS6 improved heavy tanks, plus this batch of 76 rounds of 122 mm gun discarding sabots with impressive accuracy. In addition, there are also a batch of battlefield upgrades for the existing ordinary IS6 heavy tanks. Protective kit.

This is all the "new stuff" Poryshev brought to Malashenko.

You can't be too dissatisfied with too little. In fact, it is "earth-shaking" to receive so many new gadgets at once, but there are so many regrets that I am still speechless.

There is no IS7 and there is no stable and reliable armor-piercing sabot. These two cruel realities that can be equated with badness always make Comrade Ma unhappy. I want to complain about something but I don't know where to start. For a while, I can only just say "it's okay" and leave it at that.

Polyshev and his party waited until nightfall before setting off and leaving. They only dared to march at night, which was the reality of the Red Army troops deployed on the Belarusian border in recent times. This was not because they were afraid of air raids by the Germans or anything else, it was just a matter of secrecy before the start of the battle, preventing the Germans from discovering the large-scale mobilization of Red Army troops.

Not only was the march of large convoys moved to night, but even the telegraph silence regulations were strictly enforced. The Germans could hardly detect any useful information on the actual control line on the Belarusian border, nor could they detect the large-scale mobilization of Red Army troops for night marches.

The secrecy before the launch of Operation Bagration was taken to the extreme, and the Germans would soon face an unforgettable nightmare lesson.

"The cannons are going to fire in five and a half hours. Are you sure you don't want to go get some sleep?"

Malashenko still stayed up late at night and sat at the table, holding a pamphlet in his hand and reading attentively. The political commissar who would be on duty tonight looked at his watch and spoke to remind him, for fear that Comrade Commander would forget the time.

"Huh? Ah, it doesn't matter. I took a long nap in the afternoon. I have to finish reading this quickly, lest I don't know anything when I need it on the battlefield after dawn."

What Malashenko is holding in his hand is actually a summary of details and test data that Polyshev handed him along with this new product.

In addition to the specific parameters and testing conditions of the new tank, new ammunition, and new armor, there are also some details that were not mentioned to Malashenko during the day's introduction. For example, this new improved IS6 heavy tank already has its own name, called: IS-6M heavy tank.

"Well, it's no surprise that the name is very unique."

Having an M after the name is almost a hallmark of all improved Soviet and Russian tanks from the Cold War and even modern times. The name IS-6M is not surprising in the eyes of Comrade Ma.

But it was only then that Malashenko suddenly remembered that something was missing.

Well, I remembered it! Morozov's heavy infantry fighting vehicle modified based on the T43 chassis has not seen any movement so far. There is no news and no actual vehicle has been delivered to him. Malashenko guesses that if he really wants to use this thing, he may still Have to wait a while.

"Hey, maybe you think things are too simple? It doesn't seem to be easy to get new equipment even if you enable it."

Malashenko closed the booklet in his hand and threw it on the table. While rubbing the corners of his tired and sore eyes, he touched the cigarette case on the table and took another cigarette into his mouth.

"It's been dark since then and I've already finished one box. What's wrong with you tonight?"

Faced with the concerns of his political commissar comrades, Malashenko seemed nonchalant.

"It's nothing. Aren't I always like this before every war? If I can't come back this time, I won't be able to smoke in the future. My life is unknown. Who cares how harmful this thing is to your health."

Malashenko is telling the truth. In fact, this is also the true thought in the hearts of the vast majority of Red Army soldiers at the moment.

If you want to talk about the harm of smoking to your health in the peaceful 21st century, that’s fine. There is definitely a market for this kind of topic.

But if you were on the battlefield and told a group of big-headed soldiers who stuck their heads in their belts all day, danced on bullets, and licked blood on the tip of their knives, you would be regarded as either a fool or an idiot, or just a pain in the ass. , there is basically no other possibility.

Whether you can survive or not is unknown. It may not be long before a bullet or artillery shell kills you. In this case, who will care about your health and stay healthy on the battlefield? Pure nonsense!

Of course, Comrade Political Commissar also understood this truth. Seeing that Malashenko had no intention of answering directly, he stopped asking more questions and started busying with what he was doing.

After a while, Comrade Ma, who felt extremely sleepy, finally put out the cigarette butt in his hand, stood up unsteadily from his chair, and turned around.

"I'll go and stare for a while. Wake me up twenty minutes before the cannon fires. I'll leave the division headquarters to you. I'll lead the people to fight the first wave of charge. I won't be at ease if I don't go there myself."

Comrade Political Commissar was still flipping through the report in his hand, and the answers he blurted out were so routine that he didn't even raise his head.

"I know, just like usual."

Malashenko developed a habit, a habit that he only developed after traveling to this different world.

When you need to rest, you can fall asleep immediately. It is like having a sleep switch in your head. You can fall asleep immediately when you press the switch, without any confusion or insomnia.

When it was time to stay awake, Malashenko could keep his eyes wide open even if he hadn't slept for three days and three nights. He looked even more like a two-dimensional lightbulb-eyed pretty girl than a two-dimensional lightbulb-eyed pretty girl, except that this was a three-dimensional armored tough guy.

Boom boom boom——

The roaring artillery fire from the Third Belarusian Front tore through the night sky at dawn. The roaring and earth-shaking heavy artillery fire of 122, 152, 203, Katyusha, etc. could make the air burn and the earth tremble.

Although he had experienced similar scenes countless times, looking at the Katyusha barrage whistling through the night sky above his head like a meteor shower, and the roaring of various heavy artillery volleys mixed with it. At this moment, Malashenko swore that he could still feel the incomparable shock. This was the most powerful field artillery cluster on the earth.

"Being blown up in your sleep will save you some pain. Be grateful and go on your way, you fascist dogs."

The mighty and earth-shaking first-level artillery preparation of the front lasted for a full hour. When the first golden light of the rising sun finally shot out from the horizon in the distance, Malashenko, who had already held the radio transmitter in his hand, immediately pressed the button and shouted the order that all the officers and soldiers of the division had been waiting for for a long time.

"Attack the fascists! Stalin's First Guards Tank Division, start charging!!!"