Chapter 1743: The Number One Armored Dog

The definition of the word "big fish" covers a wide range, and can be divided into many categories.

If you catch a big enough German official, such as a general, then this is definitely a big fish.

Or if you catch an important person, such as the commander of a group of Germans who are difficult to deal with, then this can also be called a big fish.

Listening to the introduction that Varosha gave him slowly, looking at the German in front of him who was dejected, his clothes were not very clean, and even his military cap was crooked, Malashenko naturally knew that the current situation must belong to the latter.

"Where did you catch him?"

Malashenko, who was half drooping outside the turret, raised his hand and pointed at Varosha and asked.

"Inside the tank, or outside the tank, this bastard surrendered on his own. The soldiers saw that he was wearing an officer's uniform and singled him out to ask him. He said that he was the major of the 505th Heavy Armored Battalion of the Wehrmacht. In addition to his men, the Germans here also had remnants of several other divisions, a bunch of miscellaneous companies. Hey! Repeat what you just said!"

Varosha, who had an extremely hot temper, was naturally not polite to the surrendered enemy. He cursed and kicked the German on the buttocks. In Malashenko's opinion, the posture was just like kicking a lazy donkey in the production team.

"Major of the 505th Independent Heavy Armored Battalion of the Wehrmacht, Schlauenbornstadt, can I ask what your name is? You seem to be the commander of this group of people."

He came straight to the point and spoke a lot in German. This German guy didn't even know whether he could understand or speak German, but he acted on his own. This made Comrade Ma smile.

People are in high spirits when they are happy. Malashenko, who had just won a victory, was in a good mood at the moment. He didn't care much about these trivial matters, so he could give this German a face.

"Major General of the 1st Stalin Guards Tank Division, Dmitri Drukovich Malashenko, I thought you Germans should be familiar with me. Oh, by the way, you should be more familiar with the "Iron Butcher" than the name Malashenko, is that right? Hmm?"

""

At first, I just felt that I looked a bit like him, but I couldn't be sure. When the man on the tank turret in front of me really introduced himself and said his name, Major Schroen, who was already ashen-faced, just kept his hands raised and smiled miserably.

"It seems that I guessed right. It was you. The portrait printed for you by those people in the Propaganda Department is quite similar.

"Portrait? "

Malachenko was stunned for a moment when he heard this. He had never heard of the Germans printing portraits of him in the past. What the hell was this?

Perhaps seeing Malachenko's surprise and confusion, Major Schlauen, who asked himself that he didn't care about anything at this point, spoke to Malachenko again.

"If you don't know about this, Mr. Malachenko, you can ask your people to take out the portrait from the right pocket of my shirt. I just happen to carry one with me."

""

Malachenko frowned and examined the expression of Major Schlauen. Judging from his experience, this guy should not be lying. Why lie about a mere portrait?

"Take out the contents of the right pocket of your clothes and give it to me. "

Varosha is not very good at German, and so far he can only understand and say one or two simple short sentences or words.

The conversation just now was beyond Valosha's understanding, so the division commander had to translate it into Russian and give him orders with gestures.

"Right pocket? Didn't you two search his body just now? Is there anything left?"

Varosha stepped forward with doubts and began to search the pockets of the German. The two soldiers in charge of escorting him behind him looked a little panicked, obviously worried that they had missed something and caused big trouble.

"What the hell is this, uh, a poster? ? ? "

Taking out the things in his pocket and stretching out his hands, he put them in front of himself to examine them. Valosha found that it was actually a poster with a large portrait of a human head, and a bunch of German words were written on it.

It didn't seem to be anything special, just like the pictures that were found everywhere and posted on the walls after destroying the German strongholds and camps in the past.

It's just that the person in this picture, uh, why does he look a bit like our division commander?

"Very strange, division commander. I don't understand this thing. The person drawn on it seems to be you"

With doubts, he reached out to Malashenko and handed him the thing in his hand. After hearing what Valosha said, Malashenko could actually guess and confirm it, but he was still very curious about what kind of monster the Germans had painted him.

"Fuck you, why did you paint me so ugly? These stupid Germans! ”

As for this body he found for free after traveling through time, Malashenko asked himself that although he was not handsome enough to make the young girls in the street think about him day and night and lose sleep all night, and he was still a little bit away from being the "Red Army Daniel Wu". But at least he had regular features, was tall and strong, and had a heroic look, and could be considered a famous handsome young man in the surrounding areas outside Moscow.

How come you are here with these stupid German guys and draw yourself like that crazy celebrity? It felt like I could squat next to the pit at any time and spit out "Oli, here it is! Do it, brothers!"

"Forget it, it would be weird if these fascists could draw me so handsome. At least we can recognize him as a buddy."

After looking at the large portrait of a Soviet tank general wearing a uniform printed on the poster, Malashenko moved his eyes to the slogan printed on the poster.

"The enemy of the German people, the person who must be conquered by the Führer's army, the number one armored dog under the bandit leader Stalin: Malashenko"

"Fuck you! Goebbels is a rotten-assed hermaphrodite who is quite good at spreading rumors and slander. I'm just waiting for one day to kick your ass into four pieces!"

Neither the portrait nor the slogan were good things. While holding this thing in his hand, Malashenko began to think about other things related to it and then spoke again.

"Do you issue this to the entire army? When did it start?"

Malashenko knew that he was famous and infamous among the Germans, but he never expected that things had developed to this extent. Looking at this posture, those Germans must hate themselves so much that they can't even understand their hatred until they are peeled and cramped. It is obviously necessary to find out when this poster started.