Chapter 1777 The Real Hero

Kozhedub, this is a well-known name that will definitely be known in the future, and he is also a well-known figure in the history of world air combat.

For Malashenko, a time traveler with a special identity, Kozhedub is not only his comrade-in-arms and comrade in this timeline, but also an object of gratitude before he traveled through time in his previous life.

In that foreign duel with the world's number one capitalist enemy, the pilots of the Soviet Air Force fighter aviation unit led by Kozhedub fought bloody battles with evenly matched enemies in the sky of a foreign country, covering a group of communist comrades on the battlefield below who had different skin colors and languages, but shared common beliefs and fought for common goals and justice, and laid the glorious reputation and immortal merits of the "MiG Corridor".

The arrogant and domineering capitalist enemies learned the power of communist shells, and countless brave Soviet Air Force boys shed their blood in the sky and buried their bones in foreign lands. Until the 21st century when Malashenko lived before crossing, they still rested in the land where the red faith continued.

This is a friendship and revolutionary comradeship forged with blood. Even many Chinese Air Force generals who have made outstanding contributions and outstanding military exploits in the future were once students taught by Kozhedub.

As the saying goes, the teacher's kindness is unforgettable, let alone the deep affection of comrades who have fought bloody battles together.

In the gray and difficult years after Kozhedub died in anger, it was these Chinese students who had been taught by him how to fight air battles that funded his wife, the widow of a Soviet hero, to survive the difficult years when even having enough food was a problem until his death.

Malashenko in his previous life was not a personal experiencer of this history, but in this life, he still cannot forget the deep memory he brought from the distant future.

Malashenko has a very complex and grateful special feeling for Kozhedub. He is an upright person who values ​​friendship, knows the limits, abides by the duties and honor of a soldier, and never does anything he shouldn't do.

Otherwise, based on his merits in the Great Patriotic War, he could have become a marshal many years earlier.

Two independent individuals with similar personalities will attract each other, and those who should come together will eventually come together, regardless of love or friendship.

It is precisely because of the similar values, ways of dealing with people, and personalities that Malashenko has not yet met Kozhedub in person or had a historic handshake.

But Comrade Ma is still very sure in his heart that he can become friends with Kozhedub, just like the many bloody comrades around him who have become the most reliable brothers.

"The guy who flies this plane is really amazing. He dares to do this on the battlefield. He must be a master."

Iushkin, who is a ruthless person and a lot of cunning words, opened the hatch on the other side of the turret at some point, leaned his upper body out, and stood side by side with Malashenko outside the turret looking at the sky above his head.

"You seem to know him. Your eyes say so."

After following Malashenko for so long, Iushkin has more or less learned some advanced words, and this is how to ask questions with high emotional intelligence.

"No, I don't know him. To be precise, I haven't met him once, so I don't know him."

Malashenko's answer is somewhat intriguing. Different people will have different understandings and perceptions after listening to it, just like there are a thousand Hamlets in the eyes of a thousand audiences.

"But I know his heroic story, just like I know the story of Pavel Korchagin."

""

While he was speaking, the wind was howling again, and the roar was coming. Kozhedub, who turned the nose of the plane and readjusted the course, flew back with his war eagle, and at a much higher climbing angle than before, he went to meet his comrades in the air who had basically declared that they had finished their work.

The iron lion on the ground was still staring at the red eagle in the sky, his eyes fixed.

As if he had noticed all this, Kozhedub, who was flying the war eagle again, waved the joystick in his hand and instantly deflected the fuselage a little. The movement of the wings shaking towards the ground was trying to express a clear meaning. Even Ivushkin couldn't help but say something to Malashenko.

"See, I said you two definitely know each other, and he is greeting you again."

Malashenko just smiled and didn't say too much or explain.

Perhaps this is how heroes appreciate and understand each other. At this moment, there are four Soviet Hero Medals between heaven and earth on this small battlefield, two in the sky and two on the ground, two for each of the two heroes of the motherland, and they are all front-line war heroes who are used to fighting bloody battles on the front line.

This is really a wonderful feeling that is difficult to describe in words, but Malashenko is sure that this feeling feels good to him.

Looking at the back of the red No. 27 La-7 fighter plane going away, Malashenko, whose eyes have regained their former firmness, refocused his gaze on the battlefield in front of him. His fierce eyes, like an arrow from a bow, have been staring at the German position in front of him that is about to be destroyed.

"Call the artillery group in the rear, their shells should be replenished! Aim at the last doghouse of the Germans and cover it with maximum firepower for fifteen minutes!"

"Lavri, Kurbalov, fifteen minutes to prepare! Regroup your troops immediately. You only have fifteen minutes to prepare for the attack! As soon as the artillery fire stops, I want to see our tanks rush to the German positions and end everything completely within an hour!"

The arrival of hope and the annihilation of despair followed one after another, and they came so fast that people had no time to make a specific reaction.

Colonel Klose, who was sitting at the rear of the command vehicle, was holding the newly arrived telegram paper with a pale face. The text recorded on it was enough to drag him and this most legendary and outstanding meritorious unit of the Wehrmacht into the abyss of hell from which there would be no return.

"The reinforcement troops were hit by a massive air strike by the Soviet army and could not arrive at the scheduled time. Please make sure to hold on tonight. We are rushing to save you at full speed!"

Tonight? Still hold on tonight?

Colonel Klose, with a haggard face and war stains all over his body, could only smile bitterly. He scratched his messy hair with his right hand and could only laugh and curse.

"I couldn't even last half an hour, but these bastards made me last tonight. Hahahahaha, what kind of people did the Wehrmacht raise? A bunch of good-for-nothings or teachers in the military academy? Hehehe hahahahahahahahahaha"