Chapter 562 Can’t Sleep

No matter how much you plan, you can't escape the fate. Malashenko tried his best to change the situation, but he ended up being dragged into the Battle of Stalingrad.

Compared with the meat grinder of Verdun in World War I, the Battle of Stalingrad in World War II was far more bloody and large-scale than the former.

The cruel and inhumane street fighting is far beyond the ordinary field battlefield. If Malashenko was thinking about how to survive in the previous battle, then for this upcoming Battle of Stalingrad, it might be more appropriate for Malashenko to consider how to keep his body intact.

The right hand holding the cigarette holder trembled as if he had epilepsy. Political Commissar Petrov, who noticed that something was wrong with Malashenko, immediately cast a questioning look.

"What's wrong with you, Malashenko."

Even if he was scared, he didn't dare to say it out loud. Malashenko, who forcibly suppressed the fear in his heart, had to try to evade it with those meaningless words.

"I'm fine. I probably caught a cold from sleeping just now. Nothing's wrong."

I always felt that Malashenko's expression and tone of voice were a little strange, but after carefully thinking about it for a while, Political Commissar Petrov couldn't find any clues that he could say on the spot.

After shaking his head slightly, Political Commissar Petrov pointed to the column of support materials on the telegram and continued to speak seriously.

"Tomorrow's delivery will be some food and medicine. The oil will arrive later. The amount mentioned in the telegram can probably allow our regiment to maintain a strategic maneuver of 500 kilometers. Strictly speaking, it is still a bit small. Do you have any opinions to point out? Malashenko."

There were only Political Commissar Petrov, Lavrinenko and Malashenko in the empty room. In the absence of outsiders, Political Commissar Petrov preferred to call Malashenko's name instead of Comrade Regiment Commander.

Malashenko, whose mind had already flown into the meat grinder in the street fighting in Stalingrad, hardly considered the issue of the telegram. Facing Political Commissar Petrov's sudden opening, he was stunned as if he was electrocuted.

"Supply? Fuel?"

""

"Just distribute these things as you see fit. The less fuel, the less. Our regiment will not make strategic maneuvers over long distances next. 500 kilometers of fuel is enough for a long time."

After listening to Malashenko's calm words, Political Commissar Petrov and Lavrinenko looked at each other in confusion.

How did Malashenko know that there would not be strategic maneuvers over long distances next?

They wanted to find the answer to the question, but after seeing that Malashenko was not very interested and even a little listless, Political Commissar Petrov and Lavrinenko simply swallowed their words and gave up the plan.

The two who had no idea of ​​Malashenko's true identity naturally pushed all the problems and results to the point where Malashenko was very tired, and they thought it was time to have a good night's rest.

Many people slept soundly that night, but Malashenko lay on the bed with his eyes wide open like cowbells, tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep.

Although the bloody cruelty of the Battle of Stalingrad is unparalleled in the world, Malashenko, who has an extremely strong desire to survive, still has to consider and face the reality of how to survive.

The plain armored assault like the one on the grassland before would definitely not work in the jagged street fighting in Stalingrad. Malashenko must consider innovative tactics to deal with the upcoming battle.

"Cluster combat is definitely not feasible in the city. If possible, it is best to conduct assault combat in groups. Break up the whole into small pieces to assist the infantry in combat? But in this way, the entire unit will lose control. Without command, I don't know how the group of vehicles below can fight."

"Not grouping is not very realistic. The iron turtles in the city are simply seeking death, not to mention that they can't be used."

"Damn, the infantry-tank coordination is still too backward these days. It's impossible to rely on it without everything. What should I do?"

My head is full of considerations for the next combat mode. My thoughts have flown away. The more I lie down, the more confused I feel. I can't sleep.

After turning over and sitting up from the bed, I glanced at the time on the watch that was clearly illuminated by the moonlight outside the window. It was just after 2:30 in the middle of the night. Even if I could fall asleep, I probably wouldn't be able to stay awake for a while. Instead of tossing and turning like this, it's better to get up and go out to relax. Malashenko grabbed the coat hanging on the bedside, put it on, put on his shoes and walked out of the house.

I don't know if it was because of the heavy rain just now, the air in the middle of the night is not only very fresh, but also makes people feel smooth to breathe.

After a breeze blew, Malashenko, who had just gotten up from the bed, shivered a little. At least the temperature difference between day and night tonight is really unusual.

"Fighting all day long! Damn! If you can live a peaceful life, who the hell would want to sell this life? Why can't you travel through time and become an ordinary person and hug your wife and roll the sheets peacefully?"

Malashenko, who was getting more and more crazy, began to blame all the problems on the fact that he had a bad fate when he traveled through time.

Compared to the novelty of being a Soviet officer and the feeling of being admired when he first came to this special era, Malashenko, who was tired of war, began to yearn for the ordinary life experience in his previous life. Malashenko was really fed up with this kind of rotten war where people died every day like daily meals.

When he first came here, Malashenko could still feel disgusted and a little touched when he saw the dead bodies and blood all over the ground, but if it were now, Malashenko could sit next to a half-body with blood flowing on the ground with a bowl of rice and eat it all in a minute.

War destroyed human nature and turned higher creatures with human hearts into indifferent war machines. Today, Malashenko can fully experience what kind of state of mind those who went crazy after the war are in.

Even if people with weak wills survive the war by chance, their souls that have fallen into the abyss will always stay on the battlefield with gunfire and suffer for the rest of their lives.

When the spark of the third cigarette was about to burn his fingers, a figure came quietly from behind and handed the fourth cigarette to Malashenko who was half squatting.

"Lavri? Why did you run out? Aren't you sleeping so late?"

Listening to Malashenko's irrelevant question, Lavrynenko smiled faintly, reached out to take out the lighter and pressed it gently, and then spoke quietly.