Chapter 545: Defenders of Moscow

The sharp tip of the knife penetrated into the brain little by little. With his other hand firmly holding the opponent's head, Malashenko felt the strength of the struggle from his palm gradually weakened, until he finally lost all his life and completely drooped down.

The warm blood that kept sliding down the tip of the knife soaked Malashenko's entire right hand into a bloody state. Malashenko, who had no interest in whipping the corpse, gently exerted force with his right hand to pull out the entire bayonet along the chin again. The dead body immediately collapsed backwards and fell to the ground.

After killing three people in a row, Malashenko had no intention of stopping. The fierce eyes holding the bayonet handle could almost stare people to death. Even the remaining six identified fanatical fascists couldn't help but shudder backwards.

It doesn't work to talk nicely to some people. You can only use bayonets and blood to let them see the preciousness of life and feel scared.

"Who's next? Who else wants to be fanatically loyal to Hitler?"

The cold words echoed in the ears and air. None of the bodies that were kneeling on the ground and trembling dared to follow the footsteps of the first three people. They could only lower their heads in fear and could not say a word.

Seeing that his method had taken effect, Malashenko raised his mouth slightly and threw the bloody bayonet in his hand down and stabbed it diagonally into the soil. The resounding words that followed determined the fate of all the people kneeling on the ground.

"Major Chirchenko!"

"Here!"

Accompanied by Malashenko's roar, a major with a PPSh submachine gun slung across his chest stepped forward from behind. Chirchenko was the battalion commander of the infantry battalion that followed Malashenko in the coordinated attack.

"Register the names of these six fascists, and assign them the heaviest work after escorting them to the prisoner-of-war camp, so that they can reflect on their mistakes and repent during labor!"

Doing the heaviest work in the Soviet prisoner-of-war camp is almost equivalent to a direct death sentence.

Ordinary prisoner-of-war labor reform is already life-threatening, let alone the heaviest work, which will definitely kill people in a few days.

But surprisingly, Major Chirchenko, who accepted Malashenko's order, not only did not hesitate at all, but also answered Malashenko on the spot with an excited look on his face.

"Yes, Comrade Commander!"

Several German prisoners who were still kneeling on the ground with their shoulders firmly pressed down and unable to move, did not understand what Malashenko meant by the heaviest work. Several German soldiers who were just grateful that they had survived temporarily were quickly suppressed by Major Chirchenko and his men.

After finishing his business, Malashenko turned around and picked up the white flag thrown by the surrendered Germans. He used it as a handkerchief to wipe the blood off his face. He then slowly spoke to Fred, who was still standing beside him at a loss.

"Let's talk about business now. Where did the large group of troops that withdrew first go?"

After chatting with Fred, whose voice was trembling, for a few minutes, Malashenko soon learned more useful information from this young German-French soldier.

"What are you going to do? Malashenko. It's almost dark. Comrades, we haven't had anything to eat since breakfast. Should we take a break?"

Although Malashenko wanted to lead his troops to continue to rush up and kill the German rear guard troops that were not too far away from him, he could not fight at night because it was already late. Moreover, if they caught up and had a close-range fight, they might not be able to get out for a while. By then, the soldiers who were already hungry and had been fighting and rushing for a whole day might not be able to bear it.

"Take a break for now. Let the comrades fill their stomachs first. We can talk about other things later."

The soldiers who had been busy almost non-stop since morning finally had a chance to take a breather. They could sit down and have a good rest and eat something hot.

The German army, which retreated all the way without even turning its head, made it possible for Malashenko and his party to make a fire and cook. There was no need to worry that the German army in a state of confrontation might launch a night artillery attack following the fire. When the flames licked the bottom of the pot, the sun had completely set from the far end of the horizon. The soldiers sitting together were talking freely while waiting for the food to cook.

"I don't know how long this battle will last. I hope this time we can completely defeat these Germans!"

Listening to Lavrinenko's words in silence, Malashenko did not intend to tell Lavrinenko that the second Kharkov battle would eventually fail. Some things are better kept in one's heart regardless of how close they are.

Although he did not intend to answer Lavrinenko's words, Malashenko suddenly thought of another situation.

Speaking of which, Lavrinenko in history seemed to have died in the Battle of Moscow last year, but he is still alive and well now. Is this also the result of his own butterfly effect?

Looking at Lavrinenko, whose face was reflected by the firelight, Malashenko, who was quite touched, couldn't help but speak in a joking tone.

"Do you believe in fate, Lavrinenko."

"Fate?"

Lavrinenko, who was a little surprised by the question raised by Malashenko, turned and looked thoughtful after scratching the ground with a branch he picked up.

"I think they probably don't believe it. If we Communists believe in fate, how could we defeat the capitalist running dogs and white bandits who besieged us back then? Fate is not predetermined. We can only create change with our own hands and efforts."

Malashenko, who did not comment on Lavrinenko's sincere answer, picked up a small stone at his feet and threw it into the bonfire in front of him, but gave a different answer.

"But I believe it is fate that made us meet and fight side by side, Lavrinenko. And after we met, I believe fate has rewritten many things later, including you and me."

Obviously, Lavrinenko, with a slightly dull face, did not understand what Malashenko wanted to express, but this did not prevent Malashenko from continuing to speak in a soothing tone.

"There's nothing to do anyway, let's sing a song, comrades. Kirill, you graduated from the music department, come and start for everyone."

"Okay, comrade commander."

Kirill did not shirk after receiving Malashenko's order. Fortunately, Kirill, who was not injured in the lungs by the bullet, still has a loud voice.

"Everyone get ready, it's the defenders of Moscow, get ready"

"We attack the enemy fiercely, the soldiers stride forward, behind us is the capital, Moscow is more precious than anything else. We are the most tenacious and brave in the battle, because we have Moscow in our hearts"

As a classic red song that has been sung for generations, "Defenders of Moscow" really began to be sung and popular among the Red Army on the front line in 1942.

For the heroic troops who participated in the Battle of Moscow and defeated the elite Great German Infantry Regiment of the Wehrmacht on the southern front, a song like "Defenders of Moscow" is perfect for the First Guards Heavy Tank Breakthrough Regiment.

The loud singing echoed over the grassland at night, filled with the aroma of food. The bonfires under the night sky dotted the scene, just like the spark that changed the future of mankind decades ago. The brave soldiers who held the Moscow defense line will continue to fight to defend this red land.

"The defense is unbreakable, the city is unmoved, and we vow to wipe out all the invasions. The defense is unbreakable, the city is unmoved, and we vow to wipe out all the invasions. The company is heroic and surging, and the earth is shaking under our feet. There are countless factories behind us, and the stars of the Kremlin are shining red. We are the most tenacious and brave in the battle!"