Chapter 3015 "You Are Here to See the Joke, Right?"

It would not be easy to take down Wittmann. Malashenko knew that this fanatical SS leader was much more difficult to deal with than the general Wehrmacht.

According to the intelligence that Malashenko learned after the Battle of Berlin, Wittmann's later experience, who was not killed by the Allies on the Western Front, was simply legendary.

Because another top ace of the German armored forces, Karl Uss, was disabled and forced to retire in 1944, and his record was terminated.

Without his biggest competitor, Wittmann, who was still killing madly on the Western Front, had a record that soared all the way, almost crazy. Driving his newly replaced 105 Tiger King, he killed the Allies and made them cry and scream, and naturally sat on the throne of the record list with absolute advantage, and his position was stable.

It was precisely because it had reached 180 vehicles by the beginning of 1945, of which more than 100 were horrifying records scraped from the Allies.

Wittmann thus received the highest honor - the Knight's Cross of the Iron Cross with Oak Leaves and Diamonds, Swords and Gold, which was only awarded to two people in the entire German armed forces.

One was Hans Rudel, Mr. Meyer's favorite general, the German sky god who was praised to the sky by the little yellow Goebbels.

The other was Wittmann, who, together with his 105 King Tiger with the turret call sign 007, became the ultimate nightmare of the Allied soldiers who "changed their heads when talking about tigers".

Moreover, the person who awarded Wittmann this honor was none other than the shampooer himself.

For such a person who had won the top honor and met the head of state, Malashenko himself did not believe that he would be taken down so easily.

Letting Krause try to take him down was just an early "fire test". Malashenko wanted to know how tough and "stupid" this guy was.

The result was predictable. As expected, Wittmann was as hard and stinky as a stone in a toilet. Not only did he not obey, he also scolded Krause who tried to persuade him, and even humiliated Malashenko.

If it weren't for Malashenko's order, Krause, who was trembling with anger, would have given Wittmann a "hard job".

But it doesn't matter. It's interesting because it's hard to take him down. Otherwise, wouldn't the meal Malashenko prepared for Wittmann be in vain?

It happened that Alsim was going there today. Malashenko, who already had a plan in mind, decided to add some ingredients to Wittmann. With Alsim's help, he would definitely get twice the result with half the effort.

Krause and his brothers had no proper status or formal organization. Whether they lived a good life or not depended on whether Malashenko would show favor to them. In the true sense, all fame and fortune depended on Malashenko.

Of course, it was also because of this that these smart people were loyal enough.

Staying in a duplex apartment building arranged and specially assigned by Malashenko himself, enjoying a special and independent "office building" and forming its own lineage, but still subject to the supervision of the military agency representatives assigned by Malashenko.

Clause didn't think there was anything wrong with this, but thought that this just proved that he was useful.

After all, supervision is also a kind of cost investment. The investment of cost means that the target object\person invested in the cost has its value. Knowing this simple logic, Clause welcomes the general to send representatives to supervise.

If you don't do bad things, you don't have to be afraid of ghosts knocking on the door. I, Clause, have no rebellious bones and am 100% loyal. What else can I be afraid of supervision?

Malashenko even re-granted Clause and his brothers the basic power to arm themselves. In order to facilitate unified logistics, they did not use the original German broken guns. They were all the latest AK44 automatic rifles and SVT40 semi-automatic rifles. Officers are equipped with standard pistols of the same standard as the leader's army, and all the necessary tools are available.

Although including Krause himself, the total number of officers of him and his brothers is only 4, and the rest are all soldiers.

But Malashenko also gave him another power: he can expand the team to a scale of 100 people.

As for how to get soldiers, it is impossible to force you to recruit new recruits from the Red Army anyway. You have to rely on your own ability to recruit soldiers.

Where to recruit?

Simple, there are plenty of Germans who grow potatoes and dig the earth in the Siberian prisoner-of-war camps. You can find who you want yourself, and recruit them if you like them.

The premise is that the resumes of all new recruits must be reported in detail. Not only must Malashenko personally review them, but they must also be submitted to the political commissar for political review at the same time to ensure that this team, which will be of great use in the future and will continue to grow and develop, is clean from the beginning.

For the series of powers and full respect given by Malashenko, Krause felt an indescribable gratitude in his heart, and the more he thought about it, the more he felt that he was about to cry.

It felt like no one had ever looked up to him so much in his life, and no powerful person had ever treated him so well.

Thus, Krause's determination to serve the general and go through fire and water became even stronger.

Similarly, because of Malashenko's direct intervention, these former Wehrmacht airborne veterans whose families far away were properly settled were basically as moved as Krause.

Although Germany had been beaten to pieces, these veterans, most of whom were in their thirties, compared the treatment described by their families in the letters, and were basically surprised to find that their families were living better now than during the Nazi period.

Compared with the relatives and neighbors around who picked up garbage and had to eat one meal a day, the contrast was too sharp.

The worries were properly resolved, and with Clauser's firm leadership, these second-time veterans, whose personal tactical skills were far better than those of ordinary soldiers, were now loyal to Malashenko.

Some even put Comrade Lao Ma's photo in their diaries and hung it on the head of their beds, reminding themselves to always remember how this good day came about.

So how can we see the effect of doing this?

As soon as Malashenko got off the car, the two guards standing guard at the door of the building immediately smiled, and their expressions showed respect and excitement that were closer than seeing their own father.

The Nazis were dead, and everything related to them had been abolished and became the dust of history.

As it should be, the two guards standing at the door of the building gave Malashenko a standard Red Army salute with guns.

Although they had just learned it not long ago, the movements looked pretty standard and good. The brand-new AK44 automatic rifle in their hands was far more efficient and easy to use than the broken STG44 they had used before.

Walking into the building with Malashenko, Alsim, who was saluted by two guards because of Malashenko, felt pretty good.

"It can be seen that they respect you very much, comrade commander. Now they don't care even if they are cursed by other Germans."

"That's because I gave them what they needed, what others couldn't give them, and what they wanted in their homeland in ruins."

Malashenko would not tell these surrendered German soldiers any great truths, that would not work. At this time, material things are far more useful than empty words.

"Now for them, it is the time when the stomach determines the brain and the family determines themselves. Before making a grand narrative, they must first feel that they are being paid attention to. If the grand narrative cannot pay attention to the individual, it can only be a fantasy."

Hearing Malashenko's words, Alsim was thoughtful. Although he could not immediately understand it thoroughly, he still wrote it down. This is a good habit that Alsim has developed in the process of accompanying Malashenko for a long time.

It doesn't matter if you can't understand it on the spot. Just write it down first and study it carefully later. There is always time.

Klauze, who returned to the base first, has already started to prepare in advance. When he learned that Malashenko had arrived, he immediately took the initiative to greet him. As soon as they met, he smiled at Malashenko.

"General, everything is ready. The prisoner is in the interrogation room No. 2. Do you need me to do anything?"

He didn't bring any extra entourage, only Alsim and the driver. Malashenko left the driver and the car outside. Now only Alsim was with him. The commander went out without even a guard.

But Klauze, who knew everything, knew that this man named Alsim was far better than any guard, and it was enough to have him by his side.

It is said that Heisenberg, who was notorious and nicknamed "Bavarian Shaver", died at the hands of Alsim. Alsim chopped him into several pieces on the roof of the Capitol, and the body had to be put in a bag to collect it. It was really horrible.

Even Krause, who looked down on the SS lunatics from the bottom of his heart, had heard about the cruelty of Heisenberg and his crazy SS.

Countless prisoners of war and British and American allies died at the hands of this guy. Developing new killing techniques was his favorite thing to do. His personal combat power was simply the peak of infantry combat, and far above ordinary people.

Why would someone put Heisenberg's company together with Wittmann's troops?

It was because someone who issued this order hoped to see the strongest infantry combat and the strongest armor combined to produce an effect of one plus one greater than two.

It was a pity that Heisenberg's overly crazy style of behavior really didn't catch Wittmann's eye. The two people who looked like they were in harmony but were actually at odds with each other felt disgusted with each other even when they were together, so don't expect too much communication. This is the reason why a forced melon is not sweet.

Now Heisenberg is dead, and his top SS infantry company has been annihilated, chopped into sausages by the number one Slavic superman under the Iron Butcher.

And Wittmann has been captured alive, and was pinned down by the Red Army soldiers surrounding the remains of the Tiger King, kneeling on the ground and becoming a prisoner of war.

Malashenko had expected how this guy would speak and what he would say to him when he saw Wittmann again.

But when he entered the room, Malashenko saw only a man with messy hair like a chicken coop and a messy beard like weeds, with a stinky face. Wearing a prisoner uniform that had not been changed for who knows how long, he was not much better than the beggars on the streets in later generations.

The number one armored ace who was once arrogant is now just a prisoner, which makes people sigh.

Hearing the sound of the door opening from the door, Wittmann, who looked a little dazed but still had bright eyes, raised his head and recognized the face of the man he remembered at a glance.

"You are here to see the joke, right?"

"No, I want to see how the top armored ace with a final record of 196 is doing now, and whether he is quite dissatisfied with the "hospitality" of his compatriots."

Malachenko said without laughing or getting angry, and sat down on the chair, facing the person he had come to meet specially. Arsim followed closely and came to the right rear of Malachenko, standing unarmed and waiting for orders. Wittmann, who was handcuffed to the interrogation table and could not move, continued to have a stern face and a bad look.

"A young major is not worthy of me coming here to see a joke. To be precise, this is an interview. It is the best job opportunity you can receive in the rest of your life, and I believe you will eventually agree to come to work."

"Ha, hahahaha, hahahahaha——"

Malashenko's words trailed off quietly, but all he received in exchange was a sneer from the prisoner on the chair.

"My answer is, fuck you!"

"You may get those spineless Wehrmacht cowards to lick your shoes, steel butchers, but you can't get a true SS elite to surrender."

"I don't know if your dog told you, so I'll just repeat it to you."

"Either kill me or let me go. You have no third option. The only way to use me is to bury me in your back garden as fertilizer. Do you understand? Idiot."

""

The corners of Alsim's mouth and eyelids twitched at the same time.

Although I couldn't fully understand the meaning, I knew from the arrogant expression and the few curse words that the dog had no good words coming out of his mouth. He was definitely insulting the comrade commander and seeking death.

But Malashenko did not speak, and Alsim, who knew what he should do on this trip, remained unmoved, waiting quietly for the next words of Malashenko, who was not angry but smiling.

"Then it seems that I have no choice but to let you go. There seems to be no other choice. We can't let the interviewer die at the interview site."

"Do you think lying is entertainment?"

Wittmann simply did not believe that the steel butcher in front of him would let him go. He only thought that Malashenko was deliberately making fun of himself, but he never expected Malashenko's next move.

"Oh, don't blame me for your favorite Goebbels thing."

"Every spitting is a nail. I, Malashenko, keep my word. If I say I will let you go, I will definitely give you a chance."

""

Before Wittmann, who had not reacted, could speak, Malashenko, who stood up from the chair, pulled out the saber from his waist with a "clunk" sound, held the hammer in his forehand and pointed it at the handcuff chain that imprisoned Wittmann. The knife hit.

Bang——

The knife hit the metal interrogation table, causing sparks to fly. The handcuff chain that was integrated with the interrogation table was cut off by Malashenko's knife.

Horrified by the strength of this steel butcher, before the astonished Wittmann could speak, Malashenko had already raised his hand and dropped the sharp saber on the table in front of him.

"do you know it?"

"This is"

Looking at Wittmann's obviously wrong eyes after looking at the knife, Malashenko, who raised the corners of his mouth, had obviously gotten the answer he wanted.

"Yes, this is Heisenberg's knife. You and he are comrades who live and die together, right?"

Before Wittmann could say anything, Malashenko had already turned around and walked towards the door, his back to Wittmann, his words sounded quietly again.

"The man standing in front of you is the enemy who chopped your comrade Heisenberg into sausages. He is also the only obstacle to your freedom."

"Don't worry, he is unarmed now, neither a gun nor a knife. And all you have to do is pick up Heisenberg's knife and kill him, if you have the ability to do it."

"I promise you with my honor as a soldier, as long as you can pass this test and walk out of this door, you will be free and can go wherever you want immediately."

"Believe it or not, the opportunity is right in front of you. It won't hurt you to give it a try, right?"

Bang——

The heavy iron door of the interrogation room was pulled shut by Malashenko. At this moment, only two people were left in the room, looking at each other.

Arsim, who was left behind by Malashenko, was still standing there, with a still face and no movement. Dressed in a major's uniform, he looked as harmless as a decoration.

""

Wittmann did struggle and struggle, but it was only for a few seconds. In the end, he resolutely reached out and grasped the knife Malashenko put in front of him and stood up slowly.

"Did you really kill Heisenberg?"

""

Alsim ignored him and continued to stand there as motionless as an iron tower. He neither understood nor bothered to reply.

"You don't like to talk, huh? Killing you should make the steel butcher look good. This is enough reason."

""

Alsim remained silent, and Wittmann, whose provocation was useless, could only bite the bullet and continue to slowly approach this motionless guy like a wooden man.

Malashenko, who was standing outside the door and lighting a cigarette against the wall, glanced at the time on the watch, and could not help but speak quietly with "worry" smoking in his mouth.

"Five minutes is too long. Let it be three minutes, lest this Wittmann be beaten to death. I hope you can hold on."

The second update will arrive later, so we will continue to add more updates.