Steel Soviet Union

After all, Malashenko, who was born in peacetime and grew up under the red flag, was still an ordinary person who worked hard to climb the academic tower in his previous life, and his exposure to killing and death was limited to the TV screen and the spoken words of his father.

Even after being on the most brutal and bloody battlefield during World War II for half a year, witnessing countless life and death, and even taking the lives of countless enemies with my own hands, I have been deeply obsessed with the secret that I am a time traveler. The last touch of kindness buried deep in his heart suddenly rose up again in Malashenko's heart at this moment.

"Comrade Dyakov, do we have any hot soup or vodka? The kind that can be obtained immediately."

"Uh vodka?"

Before the bewildered Tyakov could react, Malashenko, who was the first to bend down, took off his fire-proof combat uniform and put his hands on the lieutenant's arms to cover it. The German soldier here was frozen to death.

Because of the cold weather, the officers' regular uniforms were put on under the fireproof clothing, but immediately the military rank on Malashenko's shoulders was presented to the eyes of the German major.

"Lieutenant Colonel?! Oh my God, you are actually a Soviet Lieutenant Colonel!?"

Malashenko, who turned his head again in silence, did not comment on the shocked look on the face of the German major next to him, and then extended his right hand to Diyakov, who was still in a dazed state.

"Uh, yes, I mean there is vodka. Comrade Malashenko, I will give it to you right now."

After reading the meaning of Malashenko's gesture of reaching out with a dull look on his face, Tyakov barely reacted in a hurry and quickly removed the water bottle hanging from his waist. He stepped forward with both hands and handed it to the horse. Rashenko's hands.

The severe cold weather in winter makes all creatures living on this land feel the unavoidable biting cold. In order to keep the soldiers on the front line away from the cold, vodka spirits, which were strictly prohibited from drinking during wartime in previous battles, are also used. Then the restraints were quietly released.

Without getting drunk, just drinking to keep out the cold will not be held accountable by the superior officers and political commissar comrades. This is why Malashenko took the initiative to ask Diyakov for vodka. After all, Malashenko, who has not become addicted to alcohol due to his previous life relationship, would not carry it around with him. Borrowing alcohol to keep out the cold is still a bit too far-fetched for Malashenko, who has traveled from a later life. Tan.

With his right hand, he grasped the kettle handed over by Diyakov and shook it gently. Feeling that most of the weight was still in it, Malashenko immediately reached out and unscrewed the metal lid without saying a word, and a burst of fire and pungent smell came out. The smell of alcohol immediately rushed out of the spout and wafted into every trace of air nearby.

"Give him some water. If it's not to the point where he can't be saved, he'll warm up quickly."

The German Major, who no longer knew what to say, looked at Malashenko's calm expression, as if nothing had happened. He felt as if he had knocked over a spice box, and he still felt uneasy. It is good to know what to say, and the indescribable gratitude towards Malashenko has turned into moving eyes and is full of it.

"Thank you, thank you! Mr. Lieutenant Colonel!"

The German major who thanked him profusely was like a child grabbing candy. He took the water bottle from Malashenko's hand in an almost snatching manner, and then covered it in his arms. The "half-dead corpse" that had been frozen to the point of unconsciousness was forced to drink it.

The body that still had a vague consciousness came to life immediately after realizing that the liquid in his mouth tasted like wine. His greedy hands held on to the kettle as if grasping a life-saving straw and swallowed without opening his mouth. In Malashenko's opinion, such a scene of drinking vodka was rare even among the Soviet soldiers who were addicted to alcohol.

"Drink slowly, Koch, you damn little bastard! Be careful and choke yourself to death, this is the strong drink of the Russians!"

In ordinary battles, vodka could only serve as a drink to soothe one's sorrows and relieve the pain and sequelae of war, but in the current bitterly cold environment of ice and snow, it became a jade liquid that could save lives.

"Cough cough - cough cough cough -"

Holding the entire kettle in his hand, he drank the remaining half of the vodka in one gulp. The German soldiers, who only cared about the momentary pleasure and desire for life, immediately coughed loudly after the spout left their mouths. They used vodka with a high concentration comparable to alcohol. This way of drinking it, it was poured into the stomach in one breath. It was lucky that it didn't kill anyone.

"Damn it, Koch! I told you not to drink so hard. Did you think you didn't hear me? You're a teetotaler!"

The German soldier lost his strength and dropped the kettle in his hand. Although his throat felt like burning gasoline poured on it, the feeling of rejuvenation that suddenly heated up his whole body was so refreshing and wonderful, even though Even the biting cold wind that was still blowing bleakly from his face still couldn't cover up the fierce heat.

"Who wants to die if you can live? Herman, I feel better now, thanks to you."

Seeing that the half-dead corpse in his arms finally regained some of the warmth and demeanor that represented life, the German major who was almost about to burst into tears finally broke down in tears and smiled and felt relieved.

As long as he could drive away the biting cold that was close to death from his body, Koch, who was already in good health and uninjured, had every reason to survive this ordeal.

The surrendering German soldiers passing by the German major, who were still walking past with their hands raised in the air, saw this and moved closer to the two of them. The Soviet soldiers who were escorting the prisoners of war team immediately raised their weapons upon seeing this. The weapon was about to be yelled at to stop, but the two German soldiers who had already taken action had already picked up the young German soldier who had no strength to walk, and then returned to the prisoner of war queue to help him again according to the gathering point instructed by the Soviet army. Walk away.

"I didn't expect that these Nazi lackeys actually care about their comrades. It's really strange."

As the escorting Soviet soldier spoke with some doubts and confusion in his ears, the German major, who could fully understand Russian and mastered basic grammar and could communicate, immediately stood up from the snow, and with that With a sincere expression of gratitude on his face, he then spoke to Malashenko in front of him.

"Thank you very much for your generosity and greatness in saving my comrades-in-arms, Mr. Lieutenant Colonel. Let me introduce myself as Major Heinrich Hermann of the 127th Infantry Division of the Wehrmacht. It is my honor to meet you."