Battle of the Third Reich

"Damn it, why didn't you find it!"

"Stopped by the woods, what now?"

"Keep calm and drive like this." Swaynbach patted the shoulder of his deputy, then turned his head and shouted to the subordinates behind: "There are roadblocks set by the Soviet border guards in front. Everyone needs to be flexible.".

The officers and soldiers of the werewolves have all received systematic agent training. Compared with the early Brandenburg forces, they pay more attention to actual combat capabilities, so in theory, they can be classified as special forces or they can be regarded as Enhanced version of the armed spy.

"Understood, Sergeant." The soldiers answered in unison.

"Does anyone feel scared?"

"No, sergeant."

"Very good!" Swaynbach was very satisfied with his mental state.

"Stop slowly, Crent. In addition...keep smiling." The SS sergeant reminded, and put Tokarev back into the holster around his waist.

The distance was close enough to see each other's faces. A border guard sergeant wearing a gray winter coat, shaking a red traffic sign in his hand, commanded the truck to stop slowly in front of the barricade.

"Please get off the car, Comrade Lieutenant National Security." The sergeant walked to the side of the co-pilot and saluted a military salute at Swaynbach.

"No problem, Comrade Sergeant." Swaynbach put the PPD in the seat, opened the door and jumped off the car.

"Please show your ID, Comrade Lieutenant National Security." Seeing the big blue brim hat, the soldiers of the border guards on the roadside lowered their muzzles involuntarily.

"Okay, Comrade Sergeant." Swaynbach smiled and took out the officer's card from the inner pocket of his coat, and raised his hand to the sergeant.

"The 236th Independent Guard Battalion of the Internal Force, Lieutenant Andrey Yermakovich Nazar" turned his head down and turned over the documents, and then looked up and compared the photos.

"Any questions? Comrade Sergeant." Swaynbach asked.

"Ah, no problem, Comrade Lieutenant National Security." The sergeant returned the document to Swaynbach, and then saluted again a military salute: "It's just that the road has been blocked, and your car can't pass from here. "

"But we have an urgent task." Swaynbach put the document back in the inner bag.

"Sorry, this is a command issued by the headquarters, we have just arrived here." The sergeant shrugged his shoulders, indicating that he could not help.

"It's bad luck, I knew we should start earlier." Swaynbach glanced at the Markin 1910 machine gun on the roadside carriage, then pulled out the cigarette case from the coat pocket and shook a cigarette out of his mouth. .

"Is there any fire on you, Comrade Sergeant." Swaynbach touched his pocket, then said to the Sergeant.

"Here, Comrade Lieutenant." The sergeant touched the coat pocket and pulled out a box of matches.

"The weather is really good today. If it snows like the previous two days, you will be guilty." Swaynbach lit the match and lit the cigarette, and then handed over the remaining half of the cigarette with the match. .

"What a shame, Comrade Lieutenant." The sergeant took the cigarette happily.

Ordinary Soviet soldiers have a ration of 100 grams of tobacco leaves per month, which is the legendary Mohe cigarette. This has become a Red Army tradition.

Everyone actually knows that cigarettes are easy to smoke, but they have to pay for themselves, but at the time it was a big expense.

The Red Army troops stationed in Poland can buy some locally produced cheap cigarettes. These Polish cigarettes were just changed to a Soviet-style brand and began to be sold to the grassroots Red Army units. The problem is that in the eyes of the Red Army soldiers, the quality of the Polish tobacco leaves is not as good as that of the Soviet Union, and the smell is unpleasant, even the energy is not enough.

The Swaynbach came out with white-carton cigarettes in carton packs. Even if they were all very popular goods in the Soviet Union, they were only distributed to the rank of officer in the Red Army.

The White Sea Canal has a Soviet characteristic. It does not have the filter of European advanced cigarettes, but instead of filling up the tobacco at one end of the cigarette, it is intentionally left empty for a while, and then a thicker layer of cigarette paper is wrapped on the outside. Formed a cigarette holder made of paper.

This kind of cigarette is as vigorous as other Soviet cigarettes, and it will not be filled with smoke when it is smoked, so it is very popular with the lower and middle Soviet officers.

It should be said that although they are also under the management of the People’s Internal Affairs Committee, the treatment of the internal forces is much stronger than that of the border guards. In the sequence of the Soviet state machine, they belong to the privileged class like several types of technical arms.

"I'm sorry I can't help you, but you can go around from the west, Comrade Lieutenant." In the envious eyes of his subordinates, the sergeant pulled a cigarette out of the cigarette case, and then put the cigarette case into his coat pocket.

"Do you know what happened in front of you?" Swainbach spit out a smoke ring.

"I don't know very well, I just received a call from the camp and said it was an order from the regiment." The sergeant struck a match and lit a cigarette.

"You came from Zabinka, Comrade Lieutenant."

"How did you know?"

"One of my cousins ​​is now a sergeant in the 236 independent **** camp. You may know him, Murasov Nikolai Matavovic." The sergeant threw the matchstick on the ground and stretched out his feet. Grind a bit.

"Well, I don't know, but it seems to have been mentioned." Swainbach dusted off the ashes.

"What was transported behind the car? Comrade Lieutenant." The sergeant asked with a cigarette on his back.

"Ah, there's nothing, just some..." Swaynbach said, turning around and looking at the carriage. Just the moment he turned back, the SS sergeant quickly pulled Tocalle from the holster husband.

The other party had no time to react in the future, and the cold muzzle already held his forehead.

"It didn't have to be this way, Comrade Sergeant." Swaynbach pushed the muzzle forward.

"When did you start to doubt, Comrade Sergeant."

"The White Sea Canal you brought was out of stock a month ago. And Matavovic is not a sergeant, but a lieutenant staff of the camp." The sergeant answered calmly.

"This is indeed a mistake, I will learn a lesson." Swaynbach said with a smile.

"I advise you to lay down your arms and surrender immediately. The unknown agent, now the area around the border is blocked by us, you and your companions can't run away." The sergeant began to persuade the other side without fear. .

"Really? Comrade Sergeant, then we can wait and see." During these days, he really saw too many such opponents, and he paid tribute to the bravery and perseverance of these people. So as usual, the SS sergeant pulled the pistol trigger without hesitation.

Immediately after a storm of gunfire sounded, the scene was instantly shrouded in a pale blue smoke.

The cold wind quickly dissipated the smoke, and a whole class of Soviet border guard soldiers had fallen into their own pool of blood at this time.

The border guards were ordinary infantrymen, only equipped with Mosinagan guns. Although they were already prepared, they were caught off guard by the Germans.

One of the biggest mistakes of these border guards is that they didn’t check the carriages. The blue hat made them less vigilant. They never thought that there would be so many enemies hidden in the carriages.

The four-wheeled car they were riding on was equipped with a Russian-made Maxim without shields, but the front and back machine gunners were unable to shoot even a single bullet, and they were knocked over in the body of the car by a random gun.

"How did you find out he had a problem? Sergeant." Crent asked Sweinbach while searching the body of the Sergeant of the Border Guard.

"His hand was quietly gesturing behind his back, and the soldier's eyes behind him sold him." Swaynbach wiped his hand with a piece of cloth. The distance was just too close, and blood and brain splatters splashed on the gun body and On the back of the hand.

"Put the corpse on the carriage, and then push the cart into the bushes over there, collect the ammunition on the corpse, and don't forget to bring the Maxim." Sweinbach ordered loudly.

"Now what should we do, the border has been blocked." Crent took the box of cigarettes from the sergeant's coat pocket.

"Do you know what General Clausewitz likes to say the most?"

"I don't know, is war a continuation of politics?"

"wrong."

"The purpose of war is to destroy the enemy?"

"It's not right, Crent... if you find that there is no way, just kill one out." The sergeant of the SS looked up and looked away.

"This...you actually made it." Crent looked at the monitor squinting.

"Yeah, you saw it through." Swaynbach inserted the cleaned pistol back into the holster.