Chapter 349 Contraband

Completely different from the foot-pedal main gun firing device used on Soviet tanks, the Germans, who have their own unique ideas in tank design, made the main gun firing device connected to the breech block into a trigger-shaped button and placed it on the turret steering wheel handle operated by the gunner.

In this way, the gunner who operates the turret steering machine to aim at the enemy in real time during the battle can press the trigger and fire at the first time. According to the actual tests of the Germans, the hand-operated main gun firing device designed in this way is more in line with the needs of human-machine efficiency.

Gunners with a long reflex arc often cannot keep up with the rhythm or are so nervous that they fire prematurely when operating the foot-pedal firing device. The difficulty of using the three at the same time, including aiming with the naked eye, operating the main gun elevation machine and the turret steering machine with both hands, and controlling the firing with the soles of the feet, does indeed require extremely high experience and proficiency of the gunner himself.

The Germans, who understood this deeply, immediately changed the pedal-type main gun firing device to a trigger-type firing device that was within reach. This small change was undoubtedly the most empathetic for a gunner like Malashenko who had served for a long time.

"The Germans are really meticulous in their design of inconspicuous details, but it is a bit too romantic and artistic to apply the attitude of making works of art to war machines."

The Germans' meticulous pursuit of ultimate perfection gave their army the strongest war machine, but it was also this rigorous spirit of not willing to compromise on details that ultimately led to the German tank technology tree becoming more and more crooked. Compared with the war principle of quantity first and quality second pursued by the opponent Soviet army in the later period of the war, the German army that chose to take the elite route was eventually submerged in the vast ocean of red iron and went to failure.

Even a time traveler like Malashenko cannot deny the perfection of the war machines made by the Germans. The ability to see the future from the small is enough to allow Malashenko to explore the power of the Tiger tank, which will be the most legendary heavy tank in human history in the near future, from the ordinary Type 3 tank in front of him.

"It's a good thing, but it's a pity that it can't be as powerful as the T34. However, if this thing really faces the Six Brothers Coffin and the Crusader, it will definitely be beaten and defeated. Sometimes the wrong room is the most helpless thing."

Only when he is alone will he speak the Mandarin of his previous life to himself to relieve his loneliness and solitude. He fiddled with the firing device on the turret steering handle in his hand and felt the completely different feel. Malashenko, who still has a lot to learn about the Type 3 tank, turned his head closer.

"Oh, it's really f*cking frozen. No wonder Karamov said he could only try his best to repair it. I'm afraid the sight will break if he applies a little force."

According to the inference given by Captain Karamov after a brief inspection, this batch of Type 3 tanks that had not been started for at least a week had basically turned into steel ice sculptures.

The originally transparent and clearly visible main gun sight lens was now just a thin piece of glass that was frozen. In Malashenko's eyes, it was like the surface of the window that had not been cleaned for a long time in the cold winter. In this case, let alone using this thing to aim at the enemy, even the most basic observation of the situation in the field of vision was impossible.

He stretched out his right hand wearing a black leather glove and gently touched the frosted sight to try to clear the field of vision, but the frost that had been frozen by the temperature of more than 20 degrees below zero was like a piece of iron plate, and even Malashenko's right index finger could not scrape it off even a little bit.

After trying for a while and finally failing, Malashenko, somewhat frustrated, finally had to give up.

"Forget it, let's let professionals like Karamov deal with it later. I'm so clumsy that I might crush it with a little force."

He moved his vision away from the gun mirror in front of him and stepped on the neatly stacked 50mm fixed shells under his feet. The Germans, for some reason, did not clear these shells out of the tank and store them separately, which was obviously beyond Malashenko's expectations.

"The tanks are frozen like this, but they still expect to be put into battle at any time without clearing the ammunition racks and storing them separately. I really don't know whether to say that these Germans are really fearless or too naive."

After stepping on the ammunition racks of the vehicle body, which were also covered with a thick layer of frost, there was nothing else he was interested in. Malashenko took out a cigarette from his pocket and put it in his mouth. He jumped up to the outside of the turret with a chic and neat one-handed posture.

Iushkin, who was holding a large wrench outside the turret to knock on the de-icing, turned around immediately after hearing the sound. Malashenko, who was sitting on the turret hatch with a cigarette in his mouth and reaching for a lighter, appeared in front of him.

"Comrade commander, do you have any more? Give me one too."

Malashenko was not surprised by Iushkin's request. He reached out and took out a lighter and then raised his head after lighting the cigarette in his mouth.

"Don't you have tobacco? I remember you had a lot two days ago. You finished it so quickly?"

"How can those Mahe tobaccos be as good as your officers' cigarettes? I'm tired of smoking them every day. I gave all the remaining tobacco to Nikolai yesterday."

After hearing Iushkin's answer, he was stunned for a moment. Knowing that this guy's addiction to smoking was no less than his own, Malashenko was very surprised.

"You gave all the tobacco to him, so what do you smoke?"

"I smoke yours. Do you even need to ask? You have so many officers' rations every month, so it's okay to give me some, right?"

"Speak human words, don't talk about those useless things, did you secretly get something good?"

Seeing that the random excuses that came out of his mouth could not faze Malashenko, Iushkin, who was a little embarrassed because his thoughts were seen through and scratched the back of his head, slowly opened his mouth to tell Malashenko the truth.

"We fought a counterattack in Leningrad and killed a German infantry company. That was after you returned to Moscow to recuperate."

"I searched the bodies of the Germans one by one, looking for food and cigarettes, but I didn't expect to find so many. Comrade Commander, each of those Germans had at least two packs of cigarettes on him, and some had three or four packs. It was like a small treasure trove."