On both sides of the Meuse River in the early morning, there was a thin layer of ice near the shore, and a layer of winter mist shrouded the river. There was no movement on the calm river, not even on the grass on the bank.

Despite the slightest disturbance, no matter where you look from anywhere, this day seems to be an extremely peaceful one.

The Meuse River in the early morning is undoubtedly extremely beautiful even in winter. The thin snow covers the grass and the fields, showing only different beauty. Anyone who comes here may be obsessed with it and cannot help but feel deeply.

He took a breath to taste the fresh morning air, but when he took a deep breath, he felt a sense of surprise...

But just taking a breath, Pierre could smell a trace of gunpowder smoke mixed in the cold early morning air. This was the residual smell of gunpowder from the warning shelling in the early morning. This kind of shelling had no meaning. It was just to remind the Germans that

Opposite them, the French were still preparing and waiting.

Since the outbreak of the war, although he had watched the morning scenery and sunrise on the Meuse River hundreds of mornings, when this dreamlike scenery appeared in front of Pierre again, it still brought him a sense of joy.

An irrepressible feeling, the world became so peaceful and peaceful, as if the war had never happened. The blood and violence were like things that happened in another world and had nothing to do with this world. If he could, he would be more

I am willing to pick up my paintbrush and paint a picture of "the Meuse River in the morning".

But all that is just fantasy! Reality will always be reality! In the end, all fantasies will be shattered in the cruel and ruthless reality.

As a painter, at this time, Pierre's hands that were supposed to hold the paintbrush were covered with gun oil and gunpowder shavings even though it was early in the morning. The cold touch of the steel barrel of the M1914 machine gun in his hand and the

The faint smell of gun oil separated him from the beautiful and peaceful world in front of him. They constantly reminded him that he was on the front line of the battle, maybe in a minute. The paradise-like scenery in front of him would be

It will become a hell on earth, death will be the only scene here, and he may also be buried in hell together with thousands of others, but this paradise-like beauty will become his last memory of the world. Perhaps, this

Also a good choice.

February 20th.

Suddenly, he took a look at the calendar and found that today's calendar had not yet been torn up, so he tore off a piece and the date became February 21st.

It's a new day, I hope there won't be a war today. At least here... At least on this front where he is, maybe...

"Pierre, Pierre."

Suddenly a voice interrupted Pierre's "longing for peace."

"What's up?"

Pierre looked back at the speaker with some depression. That was Sergeant Anthony. He was a veteran who had broken into the Chinese capital. Like many veterans, he always had a nonchalant look on his face.

He can be said to be the person with the most combat experience in the whole group, but this veteran...

"Do you still have butter there? I've run out of it."

Anthony sat there and smiled and said to Pierre that for the French, they could give up everything. But they could not give up their yearning for delicious food. Although there was a kitchen on the battlefield, for Pierre, he would rather do it himself.

, and don’t eat those “pig food” either.

At this time, he set up a pan and was about to make breakfast. A faint steam began to emerge from the soup pot on the stove, and a rich aroma of food began to fill the air, which made Pierre couldn't help but think...

After swallowing a few big mouthfuls of saliva, this is the special treatment as a veteran.* The officers rarely interfere with these people, and these people will always go about their own business with such little interference, just like Anthony, his own

Things are often like this.

"I have a little more. Sergeant."

Pierre quickly ran to the bunker at the rear and dug out a butter can in his box.

"Sergeant, what do you want to do today?"

Pierre handed the butter to Antoine.

"Good stuff, I got it from the battalion headquarters kitchen yesterday."

Anthony took the jar and put it aside, but then he took out a large piece of bacon and a piece of bacon that was at least ten centimeters long.

"Sergeant, you are so great."

Several soldiers who had just woken up from their sleep rubbed their sleepy eyes and gathered around the old sergeant. They looked expectantly at the two delicacies that they had not seen for a long time.

"Everyone has it. Don't look at me like that, Albert. Don't move the damn lid, Bryce, look at you. Why don't you guys go wash your faces quickly? Don't get eye shit on me."

It went into the soup. You bunch of slanderers!"

Anthony laughed and cursed loudly, driving away the soldiers who had just woken up, and then continued his work amidst their cheers. For this front-mounted machine gun post, the sergeant's meal is always what they look forward to most.

.

"Pierre, do you know?"

Anthony took out a sharp pocket knife from his trouser pocket and began to cut the piece of bacon. The French bayonet was a spike bayonet, otherwise he would not have used this small pocket knife to cut bacon.

"Oh, you know what."

Pierre did not look back. He looked through the periscope at the barbed wire fence that was more than ten meters deep in front of him, paying attention to the open area.

"It's best to use butter for frying bacon. Using other oils will lose that special aroma."

"Oh? Is that so?"

"Didn't your mother tell you this?"

"No, I've never been near the kitchen."

Pierre recalled how his mother cried sadly when he received the call-up order, and couldn't help but let out a long sigh. Now, the only thing he hopes for is to return home, just like in the past...

But that's just a dream. There is increasingly no hope of ending this war.

"Ah, then you are lucky today, I will let you try the exclusive flavor bacon fried by Uncle Anthony himself. Then I will give you two more slices. Haha..."

Anthony didn't notice anything unusual about Pierre, and he continued to make his delicious breakfast happily.

At this time, Pierre's ears heard the sound of bacon and bacon being put into the pan, and the unique aroma of bacon and the fragrant smell of butter began to waft from the forward machine gun whistle.

"This old Anthony."

Pierre looked at the open space in the distance and smiled.

Cooking food is not allowed in the forward position, let alone raising a fire for cooking, even boiling a pot of water. The position where Pierre is located is a forward machine gun post. Compared with the linear trenches at the rear, here

Even more important, it is even more important to pay attention to concealment. But for Anthony, a veteran, this so-called order does not seem to exist. Veterans never consider some orders from officers. In their opinion, here for more than half a year

During the All Quiet War, the Germans had already used telescopes to draw every change in the grass here on the map, and there was no need to talk about hiding it.

Their forward machine gun post was built on a small slope only a dozen meters high, several hundred meters away from the bank of the Meuse River. Geographically, it was an ideal observation and warning location. But it was definitely not an ideal defensive location.

.Because there are gentle fields near them, this lonely little earthbag stands there conspicuously. Apart from being able to immediately detect the enemy's movements on the other side and setting up a perfect target for the enemy's artillery, it has no military use at all.

value.

This is also the reason why the officers set up this post here. If the Germans want to attack from here, they cannot lose sight of this post. If the post reports being attacked, it must mean that the attack has begun, and at that time

, the entire defense line can calmly enter combat readiness. As for his forward machine gun post in front of the first three field fortifications in Verdun, it is just a sacrificed chess piece. 1,.

Pierre and his group had a total of seventeen people, not even a platoon. The highest military commander was Sergeant Anthony. Although he lived a very happy life under the leadership of the Sergeant, Pierre still vaguely felt that he

These people are actually discarded pieces in the chess game, the kind that can be sacrificed. The regiment leader must have wanted to throw some displeasing soldiers to the front line as punishment for their past violations. But let Pierre

What I find puzzling is how he could be ranked among the exiles. It seems that the Lieutenant Colonel also lost his sight at some point.

However, although Pierre's post has a small number of people, its firepower is unexpectedly powerful. In addition to a Lebel rifle, the lieutenant colonel also equipped them with a Hotsikis machine gun, and there is also plenty of ammunition.

. Tens of thousands of rounds of ammunition and machine gun spare parts are stored in that bunker. In fact, there is no need to place such strong firepower here. These weapons should be placed where they are needed more. Here, even an attack is enough.

Unable to resist.

"Pierre, come here quickly. Take your portion. I've given you a few extra slices of bacon."

Anthony's voice once again brought Pierre back to reality from his thoughts. He looked back and saw that a group of soldiers had gathered around Anroni and were eating with gusto, while Anthony was holding a plate and eating with gusto.

Zhi Plate smiled at him.

"Thank you, Sergeant."

Pierre went over and took the plate.

"Why hasn't the bread been delivered? It would be better if it could be served with some bread."

A soldier complained as he chewed bacon.

Cooking food is not allowed in the forward position. The conditions of this post make it impossible to store fresh food, and those canned foods are not something everyone is willing to eat. Likewise, they are not the three meals a day for these ordinary soldiers.

For anyone, they are more willing to eat three real meals instead of three canned meals. Therefore, the three meals a day at this outpost are delivered from the front line a hundred meters away, but the food is always from the front line.

After the soldiers ate it, it had already become cold by the time it was delivered. It even became worse than dog food after it was randomly discarded in the box.

For this reason, Anthony secretly got a small stove and a set of kitchen supplies from somewhere, and started to build his own small kitchen. At first, Pierre expressed doubts about this, but when Anthony smiled and let

After he chose between delicious food and "dog food", Pierre compromised. Thinking about it carefully, it was actually right. That kind of military regulations were set up to prevent the enemy from discovering our hidden positions, and his outpost was now

Standing there in such a grand manner, you are afraid of exposing your target. Let alone lighting a stove, what can you do even if you set a fire?

"Just eat yours. Can't such delicious food stop your mouth?"

Anthony smiled and raised his hand to give the gourmet a pat on his head.

"I heard footsteps, Bryce, you're so lucky, you'll have bread soon."

The soldiers all stood up and looked towards the road behind the post.

"Stop looking, everyone, hurry up and pack up. Don't let the guy who delivers the food see these things."

Anthony ordered loudly, and the soldiers quickly and carefully hid their plates in their respective corners. After a while, the post returned to its usual mess.
To be continued...