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Canned meat, really canned meat! Markavich picked up the can and held it high to the sunlight to see the Russian instructions on it, and he was too excited to control himself. He never imagined that there would be canned meat in the flyer. Did you throw it down by mistake on the plane, or did you have another dance party inside? Or is it poisonous?

Markovic held the can and stared blankly, not knowing whether to eat it or throw it away. No one wants to die, but he is afraid of the poison in it. Like him, the soldiers who picked up the cans were all stunned and didn't know what to do with them, and the more who didn't pick up looked greedily at the cans while picking up the leaflets, hesitating between food and discipline.

"Can't eat it! Throw it away, there must be poison in it! And these flyers, all fake! The General Secretary has already sent reinforcements, and now that the weather is clear, they will soon come to our rescue! "The officers of the Ministry of Internal Affairs rushed out and smashed the leaflets and cans from the hands of the soldiers. The can in Markovic's hand was also slapped off and smashed into the sharp notch of shrapnel next to him. The sturdy can had been cut open by shrapnel, revealing a yellowish lump of luncheon meat, and the tantalizing scent of fennel and star anise wafted far away.

"It's meat! It's really meat! Looking at the shredded flesh at the crack, Markovic's saliva suddenly increased. He had been hungry for days and nights, and he couldn't stop the smell at all, even if it was poison, he just wanted to be a full ghost now. So quickly pull out the bayonet, ready to pick open the iron sheet and eat it beautifully. But he didn't pay attention, the smell of meat and movements had already made the footsteps of dozens of soldiers uncontrollable, and their eyes were green and staring at Markovich's hands.

I want to eat meat, I want to eat meat!

I don't know where the strength came from, Markavich picked up the can at once, smelled most of the luncheon meat, and couldn't control it and was about to bury his head in munching. But just when the meat is about to reach the mouth. Several pairs of large hands grasp the can almost simultaneously. "Fuck off! It's mine! A stout soldier squeezed away the man next to him, and his fierce movements caused his elbow to slam into Markevich's nose, and blood flowed instantly.

Before he could understand what was going on, the luncheon meat was snatched away, and then his nose was crooked by his elbow, and when Markavich covered his bleeding nose and got up, he saw that a dozen of his companions had already formed into a heap, frantically snatching the luncheon meat from the strong soldier's hand.

"Let go!"

"Give me a little. Give us a little. ”

"Fuck off, it's mine."

The strong soldier leaned on his body, kicking away his besieging companions as he desperately stuffed meat into his mouth. Seeing that the chunks of his own luncheon meat were swallowed by others, Markavich's brain was stunned! I just felt that something was rushing up from the depths of my heart. It's like volcanic magma boiling hot. He quickly got up and rushed forward with blood on his face: "Give it back to me!" It's mine, it's mine! ”

Markavich tried his best, but he was no match for hunger and cold, and he fell again after being hit in the eye by a strong soldier's fist. But at this time, friendship has long been a stepping stone to survival, and discipline is left behind. The comrades-in-arms who rushed up didn't care about him, and they were still frantically grabbing half a box of luncheon meat.

The looting here instantly caused an even bigger commotion, and the strong soldiers were seen desperately stuffing meat into their mouths. The soldiers, who had feared poison, rushed to the nearest can. After the close ones grabbed it, they were crushed to the ground by more people before they could hide, fighting and arguing, rolling and robbing in the snow with red eyes. Completely forgot the friendship that went to life and death together for more than a month. Markavich was even more insane, and the life-saving luncheon meat was snatched away. He was also beaten covered in blood, which had already made him lose all his senses, and he crawled to the side of the rifle vigorously, and clicked his load at the crowd of looters.

"Mine, it's mine! It's mine. Markavich, who had never read a book, didn't know what doctrine was, and the pain of starvation in the ice and snow made him forget the beautiful world propagated by the political commissar and the instructor, and he got up crookedly, muttering in a muddled way, and the blood dripping from the corners of his eyebrows was red on the snow. A partner who was kicked to the side saw him and yelled for him to stop. But at this time, he couldn't hear any sound, just mechanically dragged the blood mark forward, and when he came to the outside of the battle circle, he slowly raised his gun.

"Smack! Syllable! Syllable!. "One shot, two shots, three shots. Markwich pulled the trigger and watched numbly as his companion who had been in a trench was pierced by his own bullets. He was completely unconscious, and even after the bullet was finished, he was still pulling the trigger.

As the gunfire rang out here, so did the other looting places, even the firing of machine guns and the sizzling of submachine guns. Blood flowed and condensed quickly in the snow, dozens of looting soldiers were beaten to death by robes, and cans of fragrant luncheon meat became a talisman at this moment! Whoever touches their hands will either be beaten or beaten.

The shouts of the overseers and political commissars fell on deaf ears, and the officers who came to persuade were beaten on suspicion of coming to grab meat. More and more soldiers are involved in the conflict, and the whole riverside valley is shouting and fighting! "Grab it! The harder you rob, the better, and it's best to kill them all! "On the plane, the pilot was still wrapping the cans in leaflets and smashing them down at a ratio of one can per 1,000 people. Seeing the scene of the robbery and scuffle below, I couldn't help but think that it was the staff officer who came up with this method, and he could actually seduce the psychology and guilt of people in despair.

Markavich still pulled the rifle that had long been out of bullets, and the strong soldier who grabbed the luncheon meat had his feet broken, but he was also unconscious, and he only knew how to crawl forward in the snow with a can in his arms. "Mine, it's my flesh, it's mine." "Let go!" One of the soldiers rushed over and kicked the strong soldier in the wounded left chest, snatching the blood-stained luncheon meat and stuffing it into his mouth despite the blood.

Markovich, who had no sense of murder, noticed his can and swept the butt of his gun fiercely. Blood exploded from the heads of the robbers again. This time, the tyrannical action shocked everyone.

It's messed up! It's a complete mess!

Discipline, spirituality, faith, morale, etc., completely collapsed at this moment. Even a few generals who were unwilling to break through and escape alone were powerless, and could only watch the soldiers fight and even kill each other over a little food. The confidence of the firm has completely collapsed, the undisciplined troops are inferior to the militia, and when the trust between the soldiers has been broken, no general can think of regrouping in a short time.

Markovic finally snatched his own can of meat, and although there was only a little left, and although it was covered in blood, he laughed stupidly. Standing on the ground with his gun, he slowly lifted the blood-dripping piece of flesh, and as he was about to stuff it into his mouth, a few black dots slowly floated on the horizon. The black dots are more and more numerous, more and more dense, accompanied by the rumbling sound of motors, like galloping horses sweeping in.

The appearance of the opponent brought the scramble to a swift end, but the soldiers had no intention of fighting. A lot of people just stood, guns in hand, unwilling to hide in bunkers.

A Type 26 light tank drove up to 500 meters away from Markovich, and the muzzle of the 40mm gun was coldly pointed at him. Markovic froze, looking at the blood-stained minced meat in his palm, and finally slowly let go of the hand holding the gun.

Without bullets, Mosinagan slowly slipped out of his palm and slammed into the snow.

His war was over.

As rifles landed, more and more Soviet soldiers chose to lay down their arms. For the first time, Markovic didn't feel nervous as he watched the steel-armored monster pass by, and as he was about to re-swallow the bloody minced meat, a new can of meat was tossed to his feet. Markovic looked at the can in surprise, then at the machine gunner on the tank, whose face was hidden by snow caps and glasses, and slowly picked up the can and crouched to the side. This time, no one grabbed him anymore.

Some die-hards began to fire at the tanks that surrounded them on all sides, but this counterattack was even more futile in the face of most of the soldiers who had lost their fighting spirit. Food and severe cold finally crushed the spirit of the Soviet Kazakh Front, and after half a month without support and supplies, no matter how strong the soldiers were, they could not continue to fight.

On November 27, 350,000 Soviet troops surrounded on the banks of the Tondek River were the first to surrender. According to the later count, only 290,000 of these Soviet troops survived, and the remaining 60,000 were either frozen to death or killed in the final purge.

Like a plague, as the Soviet troops at the Tondek River surrendered first, the Soviet troops on both sides of Lake Balkhash began to surrender their weapons to the Wehrmacht in batches. Except for those who initially escaped, only 710,000 of the 1.08 million soldiers in the encirclement made it to the prisoner of war camp alive, 200,000 died on the battlefield, and the remaining 170,000 froze to death or disappeared due to lack of food and clothing.

On 29 November, the 29th Army, which had moved south after clearing Mount Aitau, arrived at Taraz (formerly known as Talas) and, together with the Airborne Division, launched a fierce assault on the 60,000 Soviet troops encircled here. As the most important strategic city in eastern Kazakhstan and the largest warehouse and material hoarding on the southern line of Mount Aitau, the Soviet army was quite well defended here. In the end, after three days and three nights of fierce fighting, the 29th Army and the 31st Army that arrived later paid more than 10,000 casualties to conquer the city, killing a total of 30,000 Soviet troops and seizing more than 2,000 tons of ammunition and materials.

At the same time, the third group, having handed over the remaining sporadic clearance and escort of prisoners of war to the fraternal forces, took advantage of the snowfall gap to move rapidly in the three directions of Pavlodar, Karaganda and Zhezkazigan, preparing to plug the entire gap in the northeastern part of the Aral Sea.

The news of the loss of Taraz quickly spread to other regions, and the Uzbek front immediately shrank, and all the 370,000 troops shrank to large cities such as Tashkent and Salmahan, trying to rely on the cities to defend to the end. After urgent discussions between Shymkent in South Kazakhstan and 60,000 Soviet troops in Turkestan, it was decided to abandon the rigid defense, take advantage of the cover of night to retreat to Kyzylorda, the nominal capital of Kazakhstan, behind them, and try to rush out before the Wehrmacht closed the line from Zhezkazgan to the Aral Sea, and joined the Lukin division of Alkarek.

However, due to the previous wind and snow, the Soviets did not know that in the deserted Ares salt marshes north of Kyzylorda, a unit that had been lurking here for eight days to escape the wind and snow also started its engine at the same time.

The Kyzylorda encounter was on the verge of breaking out