Chapter 526 Another Job

"The Germans' new tanks? Can they still threaten our KV1? At a distance of 500 meters?"

Political Commissar Petrov, who had thought that only his side was actively developing and producing new tanks, was obviously a little surprised by the situation given by Malashenko. He suddenly looked solemn.

"You are right, this is very important news, Comrade Commander. Reporting it in time can help our army reduce a lot of unnecessary losses and prepare in advance. I will draft a telegram to send it now."

About 20 minutes later, Marshal Timoshenko, the commander of the Southwestern Front, who was staring at the battle zone map in the command room and anxiously waiting for news, finally received the telegram of victory that made him wait a little anxiously.

"Comrade Commander! Good news! The 1st Guards Heavy Tank Breakthrough Regiment has taken control of the village of Nibotrikaya, and it belongs to us now! The Germans have secretly deployed a whole tank regiment in the village, and now they are just a pile of burning debris and corpses!"

The front chief of staff walked over quickly, waving a telegram in his hand and talking happily, which made Timoshenko's eyes light up instantly. Marshal Timoshenko, who couldn't believe that Malashenko had ended everything so quickly, immediately grabbed the telegram and read it quickly at a speed of ten lines at a glance.

It took less than half a minute to finish reading the entire short telegram, and Timoshenko, who felt uneasy in his heart, couldn't help but empathize with what Zhukov had said to him before.

"It seems that Zhukov's evaluation is correct. This Malashenko is indeed good at creating those seemingly impossible miracles! It seems that this small test is still too easy for him. It is necessary to put him in a more important position and let him play a key role!"

Gently rolling up his sleeves and looking at the time on his watch, Timoshenko was extremely satisfied that only four and a half hours had passed since sunrise. Before this, he had never heard of any unit that could achieve such brilliant results in such a short time, so that the German reinforcements had no time to react and ended the battle.

There is no doubt that Malashenko's first victory not only made Timoshenko dispel his original disbelief, but also made the old Red Army marshal with outstanding military achievements instantly raise his evaluation of Malashenko by several levels.

"How is the telephone line? Can it be connected to Malashenko?"

Faced with Timoshenko's sudden question, he was slightly stunned. After thinking for a while, the slightly hesitant front chief of staff immediately gave a basically confirmed result.

"Judging from the time, it should have been connected. It won't take long to pull the telephone line from Malashenko's original station to Nibotrikaya Village. We can try to make a call now."

In the small wooden house that used the civilian house as a temporary regiment headquarters, Malashenko, who didn't even have time to eat breakfast, was sitting on a stool made of two shell boxes, eating dry bread and drinking boiled water. The phone next to him on the table that had just been connected suddenly rang unexpectedly.

"Fuck you, you can't even eat peacefully, damn!"

He almost choked on a mouthful of bread before swallowing it. He took a gulp of boiled water and pounded his chest twice before he swallowed the dry bread that was as hard as a brick.

Estimating that the person who could call at this time must be a senior official, Malashenko, who didn't dare to neglect it, immediately grabbed the phone.

"Malachenko, I have received the telegram. This battle was fought beautifully!"

Before Malachenko could speak, his old friend on the other end of the phone seemed to be able to sense the identity of the person answering the phone.

Before he had time to think about what to say, he was beaten to the punch. After a long while, the slightly dull Malachenko could only respond with words like "um", "yes", "this is what I should do".

The original plan was just to let Malachenko explore the village of Nibotrikaya in order to prepare for the next battle, but now that the situation has changed, Timoshenko simply adjusted the battle plan directly, and the order to send Malachenko to a bigger stage was blurted out from the other end of the phone.

"We just received an updated aerial reconnaissance report a few minutes ago. The nearest German troops of at least one division are approaching your village, Malashenko."

"The front headquarters judged that there will be more German troops rushing towards your location, but they don't have time to launch a counterattack today. The entire battlefield is now moving around you. Cooperate with the six infantry divisions behind you to block the enemy's counterattack and then launch an offensive to eat them up. I am waiting for your good news, Malashenko."

"Fuck you"

After a slight pause, Malashenko, who almost wanted to cry in his heart, couldn't understand why Timoshenko, this bad old man, was so obsessed with how to attack. In comparison, the well-organized and step-by-step battles under Zhukov last year were completely opposite. How could he have such a direct superior who loved to fight head-on?

The arrow had to be shot, and although he was reluctant, Malashenko, who looked a little frustrated, finally gave Timoshenko the result he wanted on the other end of the phone.

"I understand, Comrade Marshal! I will let those Germans know whose land they are running wild on! And make them pay the heaviest price!"

Although he was full of enthusiasm, his heart was exactly the opposite.

Recently, I have been thinking about and recalling the details of the Second Battle of Kharkov. Malashenko knew very well that he would be facing the entire Kleist Armored Group. In history, the Soviet Southwestern Front was unwilling to admit defeat and attacked the Kleist Armored Group, and finally retreated to the city of Stalingrad with bloodshed.

Timoshenko, the stubborn old man, is still moving step by step towards the pit according to the original historical trend, and fortunately he pulled himself up. Malashenko, who had tried to change the direction of the Second Battle of Kharkov but ultimately could not resist the iron-fisted order of his father Stalin, felt that he had worked in vain and could not help but sigh while sitting on the shell box.

"Forget it, now we can only plan how to fight the next battle. Fighting hard and charging hard is definitely not a solution. If we do this, we will either be killed by the Germans or sent to a prisoner-of-war camp. We should be conservative if we can. It's only Stalin who thought of defeating the Germans in the summer of 1942!"