Even if the distance between Stalin and the German vanguard troops was only a few meters a day, it could not withstand much consumption. After repelling the Soviet army's crazy counterattack, the German army attacked the center of Moscow along the streets of Kiev under the cover of tanks. Although the results were not great, they had indeed stood firm in the city of Moscow.

"Marino?" A German soldier leaned against a ruin on the roadside, looking at the only remaining wall, a door sign engraved with Russian. He was the only soldier in the entire infantry company who knew Russian, so he was surrounded by a veteran who was responsible for protecting him.

"Marino? Is this Moscow?" The veteran shrank his neck and held a cigarette in his mouth. He asked the Russian partner in a vague way: "From forward, it's the front line between both sides. We have to be careful, it's not very safe here."

The two were originally next to the buildings on both sides of the highway. At this time, there were many friendly infantry sitting against the walls around. Some were preparing for food for a while, and some of the remaining people were either building temporary resting places or gathering together in groups of three or five, enjoying a difficult moment of leisure time.

"This is a civilian area on the outskirts of Moscow. There may be some taller buildings, but it seems that our artillery troops are afraid that those buildings will become observation posts for enemy artillery, so now it seems that there is no place too high here." The Russian-speaking soldier bypassed the two killed Soviet civilians lying at his feet, followed the veteran, and walked carefully towards his company.

This is a battlefield with light smoke, and common sense of life has no effect on it. It is possible that shells will fly in the next second, or it is possible that a deadly landmine will be buried at the corner of a seemingly calm street. So here, you need to be extra careful every step you take, and every decision may affect the final life and death.

Several leopard tanks were parked on one side of the road, and the crew members of these tanks sat in the shade of the tanks. They were wearing black tank uniforms full of oil stains, and on their chests were the most ordinary battle medals and other messy commemorative medals. These badges must be carefully identified and represent the previous battles these crews have participated in.

The gun barrels of the parked tanks were painted with several white circles, which obviously meant that they were not new recruits who had just joined the battlefield, but veterans of armored troops with experience in destroying enemy tanks. The members of the crew glanced at the various German infantry passing by with their deep eyes, watching the other side walk straight towards the bloody and cruel battlefield.

If the soldiers who participated in the Battle of Stalingrad came here, they would definitely be very familiar with the scenery in front of them: the same broken rubble, the same dilapidated street, the same tense ruins, and the same riddled positions. Everything here is a nightmare memory, and every time they think of it, countless goose bumps appear all over their bodies.

...

Directly behind the German position, in a reinforced bunker, Klug, who had just been promoted to marshal, held his marshal's scepter and looked at his subordinates with satisfaction in setting up his new command center.

Several non-commissioned officers helped to unfold a huge map of Moscow city and hang it on a board made of wooden boards. Above their heads was a roof made of wood and sandbags, and a layer was laid with rainproof materials to ensure that there would be no rain leakage in rainy days. The chandelier connected to the diesel generator equipment was fixed in the center of the room, but even so, the entire command center still seemed a little dim.

The sunlight penetrated into the room through several observation windows facing Moscow, and several staff officers were debugging the cannon mirrors erected next to the observation window. Some officers were putting piles of documents on the desk they had just found, and two soldiers were following the orders and carrying locked file cabinets.

There were definitely many things in the command center of a German marshal. Even before the promotion, there were definitely many documents and equipment in the command center of the German general that were shocking. Just after everything was ready, the two officers placed half of the army flags in a corner of the command center, and a photo of the small head of state, Akado, was hung not far away.

After the telephone line was pulled and everything had been laid out, Kluge finally grabbed the phone and began to confirm the location where his troops arrived. Two hours ago, his troops had already invaded the Marino area of ​​Moscow. And according to the news sent by the messenger just now, the Soviet army launched a fierce counterattack there.

"I am Kluge, answer me with the 82nd Army." Kluge grabbed the phone and ordered loudly to the other side of the phone: "I want to know which part of his troops are attacking in the Marino area now."

After a while, a firm voice came from the other side of the phone. It was obvious that the commander of the 82nd Army picked up the phone. Even through the phone, he could hear a strong Munich accent: "Long live the Head of State Akado, Rudolph! I am Lieutenant General Karikov, the commander of the 82nd Army."

"Long live the head of state! I am Klug!" Klug said to the other side of the phone: "My command was moving just now, so I did not listen to your offensive results in detail. I heard that your troops have entered Marino, where has they attacked?"

"Marson Marshal! My troops are fighting fiercely with the Soviet army at the intersection of the Kiev Highway and the Ring Road. A unit of our army attacks southward, but they are also blocked in a place called Adelan." The general named Karikf replied calmly: "Our offense is blocked and we are consolidating the defense line we have obtained."

After hearing this reward, Klug raised his head and looked carefully at the lower left corner of the Moscow map, where he found the exact location of the Marino area. Then he stretched out his fingers, pressed them on an intersection, and frowned.

There was the area where the German and Soviet troops had just fought fiercely. To the north of the 82nd Army was the 5th Armored Division of the SS, the most elite armored unit of the Thaklug F Army. To the south of the 82nd Army was the 3rd Armored Army of the National Defense Forces. The grenadiers under these troops had attacked nearby areas and formed a stable defensive formation with the 82nd Army.

Just looking at the positions of each army marked now, the 82 Army is actually more prominent than the friendly forces on both wings. If this army rashly continues to launch an attack, it will put itself in a dangerous situation that may be surrounded by the enemy.

He had to stabilize his attack rhythm. Like Qusiral, Kluge also felt that it was a very irrational decision to rashly enter the city during urban street fighting. He was more willing to annihilate as much of the Soviet army's vitality as possible on the periphery, so as to save troops for the subsequent attack on Moscow.

After thinking about these questions, Klug retracted his thoughts and said, "Don't rush to continue attacking forward. You can cooperate with the two main forces on the flanks to stabilize your defense line and then slowly advance, farthest, farthest..."

Speaking of this, he looked at the map in front of him and set his eyes on a marked location. There was an ancient cathedral called the Church of Angel Migale. This church can be said to be a landmark building near Marino and is a very important node.

"The farthest thing can only be pushed to the Angel's Migale Church! You can't go any further! Do you understand?" Kluge finally spoke and explained what he was thinking.

"Yes! I understand!" General Karikov, the commander of the 82nd Army, replied solemnly: "Our army advances as far as the Angel Migala Church! Never go further!"

After hanging up the phone, Kluge focused his attention on the map again. He saw that his troops had captured the places, and these places were only a short distance from the Red Square in Moscow and the Kremlin. As long as they crossed this short distance, they could insert the flag of victory at the top of the enemy's capital.

As long as they win this war, they will all become the greatest generals of Germany, and their era will also become the greatest era of the German nation. Kluge tightened his fists and felt extremely excited and glorious in his heart, thinking that he was one of the founders of this era, a hero who would be buried in the hero’s cemetery and carved into a statue and surround the head of state!

"God bless Germany! Long live the great head of state!" He murmured silently, then grabbed the phone on his desk, and the sound of cannons from afar came again. It was another unit attacking the Soviet defenders under Moscow.

He was about to call the command headquarters of the Wolf Knot East Line and said slowly to the other side: "Long live the head of state! Receive Marshal Bolauchic!...Long live Marshal Akado Rudolph! Give me a marshal! I am Klug! My troops have already obtained a defensive position in the southwest corner of Moscow city... Yes, the enemy's counterattack is very fierce, but we still hold our own position."

After a while of silence, he continued to speak: "Yes! Marshal Blauchic... My troops will maintain the current attack speed! The victory is only a short distance away from us! We will be the final winner, there is no doubt about this!" Mobile phone users please visit http://m.piaotian.net
Chapter completed!