Chapter 232 Interlude

Sitting in the passenger seat of the wobbly GAZ-61 car, feeling a little sleepy and like he was suffering from narcolepsy, Malashenko slapped himself twice, ignoring the surprised look of the Red Army corporal driving next to him.

"Comrade Lieutenant Colonel, can I have a chat with you?"

The street scene that kept passing by the window was still a while before arriving at the Smolny Palace where the front headquarters was located. Malashenko, who just wanted to kill some time, nodded and agreed.

"Don't be too reserved, comrade, just say whatever you want to say."

The light words from Malashenko made the somewhat timid young Red Army corporal look happy. It was undoubtedly a great honor and something to brag about to be able to have a direct and close conversation with the Red Army tank hero that everyone was talking about in private.

"Lieutenant Colonel Malashenko, everyone privately says that you are the most powerful tank hero of our Red Army. The tanks of the fascist lackeys will flee as soon as they see you. Even the political commissar of our division said that you have broken the backbone of the German armored forces. Those Germans are really vulnerable in front of you."

At the instruction of his father Comrade Stalin and the needs of the Red Army's political propaganda, Malashenko, who has already gained a little reputation in the front-line troops of the Red Army with the headlines of Pravda, was deliberately portrayed as an indestructible Red Army tank hero.

Once the German armored forces met Malashenko, they would be helpless like butter meeting a branding iron and then be annihilated. Such exaggerated propaganda is undoubtedly due to the increasingly low morale of the front-line troops of the Red Army due to continuous defeats.

For Malashenko himself, he is undoubtedly well aware of how much false water is mixed in such propaganda reports.

As the armored troops with the highest combat quality during the entire World War II, the German armored forces are so powerful that they are shown by their real and awesome results. It is no exaggeration to say that you may lose your life at any time when fighting against such a world's strongest armored troops.

Although the words of the Red Army corporal beside him can be said to be ridiculous to bystanders, Malashenko, who has been portrayed as a hero, cannot deny it. Morale in wartime is more precious than gold in peacetime.

"Those fascist invaders are fragile, and their tanks are as worthless as their will. Our Red Army is gradually turning the situation around, comrade."

Speaking insincerely, Malashenko, who has a hard time speaking, has to use these nonsense to perfunctory the corporal beside him to meet political correctness. The reality that the military exists as an appendage of politics has never changed since its birth.

Getting the affirmative answer from the tank hero beside him, the corporal, who is only responsible for driving for the division chief and has almost never faced the brutal German army, immediately showed a cheerful smile.

"I knew it would be like this, Lieutenant Colonel Malashenko. With a hero like you in Leningrad, those fascist tanks can't cause much trouble. You are their nemesis."

With an awkward smile on his face, Malashenko, who never said a word of truth along the way, arrived outside the Smolny Palace where the Leningrad Front headquarters was located not long after.

Pushing the door open and getting out of the car, Malashenko, who changed into a clean major's uniform, came to the guards on duty at the checkpoint.

"Please show me your pass or relevant documents, comrade."

Malashenko stretched out his hands and fumbled in his new major's uniform for a while. He almost thought he didn't bring his officer's certificate. Finally, when he looked a little flustered, he found this hard little book and handed it to the guard in front of him.

After taking the officer's certificate handed over by Malashenko, he carefully looked through it, but the face of the guard captain, who was only a lieutenant, looked a little strange.

"Major? Major Malashenko? This is inconsistent with the order we received, comrade. We received an order to allow Lieutenant Colonel Malashenko to enter the front headquarters, not Major Malashenko."

Being a little overwhelmed by the strange words of the guard captain in front of him, Malashenko, who was stunned for a while, realized what was going on and immediately said inwardly.

"It's bad! When I left the front headquarters last time to support the front line, I left too hastily. Not only did I not update my officer's certificate for inspection, but even this set of uniforms was the previous major rank. Brother, don't treat me as a fake spy."

Malashenko's worries were not unreasonable.

People who can serve as the commander of the guard squad in the front headquarters are definitely not mediocre. Observing words and expressions and being good at seeing through details are the basic attributes of these people. People like Malashenko who tried to get into the front headquarters by holding an officer's certificate that did not match the notice from their superiors would naturally be equated with some very bad special hostile professions.

Seeing the increasingly unfriendly expression of the lieutenant in front of him, Malashenko, who was panicking, immediately waved his hands and started to explain.

"It's like this, comrade, the problem with the officer's certificate was caused by a small problem, and the specific details cannot be explained at the moment. But you can call your superior directly to report the situation here, and he will tell you how to deal with it, believe me."

Malachenko's explanation, which sounded a bit pale and weak, could not dispel the lieutenant's doubts, but since his superiors had previously informed him that Lieutenant Colonel Malachenko was allowed to pass, the young lieutenant, who was undecided about what to do for a while, blurted out with Malachenko's officer ID in hand.

"Don't leave here, wait a moment, I'll contact my superiors to report the situation."

Before turning around and leaving, the lieutenant with his back to Malachenko winked at his subordinates, and the two guards who understood immediately moved closer to Malachenko intentionally or unintentionally, with vigilant eyes like staring at the enemy.

"Well, this fucking must be regarded as a spy of the Germans, is it wrong for me?"

The lieutenant who came to the duty booth holding Malachenko's officer ID immediately picked up the microphone at hand and dialed the phone. The colonel in charge of coordinating the command of the front headquarters guard answered the phone.

"Yes, Comrade Colonel. His officer's ID card indicates that he is a major, and his uniform is also like that. So that's how it is. I understand. I will let him go."

When Malashenko was wandering around with his hands in his pockets, he felt that the situation was getting worse. At this time, the young lieutenant, who had a 180-degree turn in his attitude, smiled and handed him back his officer's ID card with both hands.

"I'm sorry to have caused you trouble, Lieutenant Colonel Malashenko. There were some problems in our communication. Please understand. We will let you go now."