Chapter 542 Who Else?

After shooting this lieutenant of the Wehrmacht who was fanatically loyal to the Nazis, Malashenko, who had opened his eyes again, could not help but feel touched.

"It seems that Hitler's black hand is not only in the SS and the Nazi Party, but also in the Wehrmacht. He thought that the power of the Junker nobles was so strong that it could not be penetrated by water or needles. It must be very uncomfortable to see that the Wehrmacht, which has been painstakingly managed for so many years, is full of Hitler's fanatics."

A considerable number of later generations believe that Hitler's tentacles are only in the SS and the Nazi Party. The Wehrmacht is a regular military group that advocates chivalry and is led by the Junker noble officer corps. It has not been contaminated by Hitler's black hand and has nothing to do with it, but in fact it is not the case.

Hitler's highly inflammatory speeches made the whole of Germany crazy.

This kind of enthusiasm is almost pervasive in all walks of life in Germany. From children as young as a few years old to the elderly in their seventies and eighties, they all worship this enthusiasm as a god-like existence.

The 93% public support rate is not a random fabrication, but an exact number obtained after a detailed public opinion survey.

This enthusiasm for swearing allegiance to the head of state has long penetrated the Wehrmacht. Even if the older generation of Junker aristocratic officers can see the true face of it, it does not mean that the new generation of young officers and soldiers of the Wehrmacht can do it.

The seeds of humiliation planted by the defeat in World War I took root in the hearts of young people and grew into twisted and deformed towering trees that reach the sky.

In Germany, no class or group can escape this enthusiasm.

If there is any, the one-meter-thick Jewish putty in the crematorium of the concentration camp may be the real answer.

Anyone who dared to disobey the will of the head of state would be subjected to the most crazy retaliation and complete elimination by the Gestapo, and the means were even more brutal than those of the Soviet Ministry of Internal Affairs. Himmler, who also wore a pair of small glasses, was much more cruel and efficient than Beria. Reality was so cruel and simple.

After venting his anger on the corpse that had lost half of its head and shooting out the magazine of the SVT-40 semi-automatic rifle in his hand, Lavrinenko, who still felt unsatisfied after spitting hard, turned around and walked to Malashenko's side and spoke slowly.

"What should we do next?"

"After killing a high-ranking official, there must be lower-ranking officials. We have plenty of interrogation targets."

Putting the Tokarev TT33 pistol, which had cooled down in his hand, back into the holster on his waist, Malashenko, who had already made plans in his mind, spoke again to the bearded major not far away.

"Maxim, go and capture another German prisoner, the biggest officer. I want to see if these Nazi fanatics can be killed!"

"Yes! Comrade Regimental Commander!"

Major Maxim, who was stupid and thick, was as tough and resolute as his big beard when doing things.

Major Maxim, who had not read many books, always obeyed the orders of Comrade Malashenko, the regiment commander who promoted him to the position of major battalion commander. Major Maxim, who had not read many books, only knew that Comrade Regimental Commander was good to him, so he should work hard to repay Malashenko. As for the other big principles used by the literati, he did not know anything and never thought about them.

Major Maxim, who had gone around the prisoners of war, quickly pulled out another German lieutenant. What Maxim did not expect was that he had just grabbed the collar of the German lieutenant and was about to pull him out of the crowd. The latter, who was as stubborn as a wild horse, broke free from Maxim's right arm and raised his right hand to stop him and shouted.

"Hi, Hitler!"

"Fuck you, you idiots are really not afraid of death!"

Malachenko, who could easily turn into a fanatic, was furious after seeing this scene.

Malachenko, who had long lost patience with this group of anti-human scum, snatched the rifle of the soldier next to him. The Mosin-Nagant with a bayonet flashed coldly and was imposing.

Malachenko, who had never tried this way of killing, clenched the long gun in his hand and rushed forward to stab. The German lieutenant, whose right hand was pointed at the sky at a 45-degree angle, was stabbed to death before he could put his hand down.

Malachenko, who was still not satisfied after stabbing the opponent's chest with a knife, raised his size 45 military boots and kicked the opponent's chest hard. The bayonet under the gun head was instantly detached and a scarlet blood spurted out. The German lieutenant, whose heart was stabbed through, fell on his back and was only left with a breath. It seemed that he was completely dead.

With one shot and one knife, he killed two German lieutenants in less than a minute. Such a ruthless Soviet officer frightened the German prisoners who had surrendered and surrendered so much that they turned pale and speechless.

Raising his sharp eyes like eagle claws, he scanned the group of unarmed German prisoners in front of him. Malashenko was sure that there must be some people who hated him and looked at him with disobedience among these seemingly harmless guys.

Malashenko, who had confronted this group of anti-human Nazis, decided to go all out today. He simply stood there with the Mosin-Nagant rifle with a bayonet and blood on the tip, and was obviously waiting for the next fearless fanatic Nazi to come forward after having the courage to do so.

"Anyone else? The bastard who swore allegiance to Hitler and the Nazi Party is not afraid of death!? You can stand up now! It is Comrade Lenin's business to forgive you scum, and what I have to do today is to send these scum to Comrade Lenin to confess their sins in person!"

Malachenko, who was splashed with blood on half of his face and didn't bother to wipe it, looked even a little funny with a black leather tank cap on his head. If he was put in a circus, he would look like a clown with ketchup on his face, but the German prisoners who were basically scared didn't dare to think so at all.

The fanaticism of swearing allegiance at all costs began to cool down rapidly to the freezing point in the face of blood and cold death. The scarlet cruel reality made the few Nazis who were still slightly dissatisfied in the pile of prisoners finally choose to be turtles and keep silent.

If you don't even have your life, where can you swear allegiance? Allegiance to God? This is not funny.

Malashenko, who had been planning to kill a few more Nazi fanatics to establish his authority, saw that no one dared to stand up again. He was about to say something when he was interrupted by a young voice.

"Mr. Soviet commander, I have important intelligence to report to you! You will definitely be able to use it! Please believe me!"