In the room on the first floor, there were some modest meals on the dusty table, but in the center of the table, there was a half-full bottle of wine.
Under the dim light of the oil lamp, Marco's aunt poured a small half glass of wine for Wei Ran and the three of them. The scarlet wine reflected a strange blood color under the light of the oil lamp, and the aunt's face was quite fanatical.
Their expressions and their confidence in Germany's victory, which seemed like nonsense, actually made the three of them feel a more frightening terror than the rumbling explosions outside the window.
After patiently finishing the tasteless dinner, the crazy aunt, who seemed to be giving a speech, raised her head and drank the last sip of red wine, and then asked curiously, "Marco, I just forgot to ask you, when are you coming back this time?"
What's matter?"
"We are helping Lieutenant Colonel Rudy send some key information to the headquarters."
Father Hans lied one after another. While making excuses, a hint of embarrassment appeared on his face, "You know, we can't reveal anything more to you."
"I understand completely!" The aunt simply changed the subject, "Marco, when are you going back? I'll prepare some clothes for you."
"Lieutenant Colonel Rudy allowed me to stay at home for one more day." Marco clearly understood the true legacy of Father Hans, "but it's best not to let others know that I didn't return to the battlefield immediately, after all..."
"I see!"
This aunt was particularly on the road, "I will help you keep the secret. I will try to come back as early as possible tomorrow to see if I can buy some meat and make you some delicious food."
"Then thank you, aunt." Marco frowned and drank all the red wine in the glass, fearing that he would reveal his secrets by saying too much, "Aunt, it's getting late, you should go to bed early!"
"You guys go to sleep in the basement," the aunt said with concern, "the first floor is too dangerous, maybe a shell will fall at some point."
"No, let's just stay on the first floor." Marco quickly refused.
"Listen to me, go to the basement." Marco's aunt helped the former dust off the non-existent dust on the major's uniform, "You are a major now, and Berlin still needs you to protect it with your soldiers, so go upstairs
Get off."
Marco opened his mouth and was about to say something, but Father Hans helplessly drank the red wine in the glass, "Marco, just go to the basement."
"Then...okay" Marco, with a tangled look on his face, could only agree to his aunt's arrangement and returned to the basement with Father Hans and Wei Ran.
Gently, the tables made of ammunition boxes were piled up to look like beds. The three of them would take the quilts sent by Marco's aunt and lie down undressed in the dark and damp basement and amid the almost continuous sound of explosions outside the window.
Each is thinking about his or her own thoughts.
In the blink of an eye, the night passed. There was a gentle knock on the door. Wei Ran and Father Hans got out of bed in no particular order. The former had a pistol in his hand that did not belong to this era, while the latter raised his hand.
The submachine gun that was brought down.
As for "Major Marco" lying on the bed, he was sleeping soundly like his younger brother, drooling all at once.
Outside the door, Marco's aunt whispered through the door, "I have prepared breakfast for you. It is on the dining table on the first floor. Remember to tell Mario that he does not have to put up posters today and let him stay at home.
You guys."
Hearing this, Father Hans and Wei Ran put away their weapons at the same time, and the former replied hoarsely, "Okay, I will notify them when they wake up."
"Also, lend me your motorcycle. I just have to go out to give lectures today." After Marco's aunt finished speaking, without waiting for Hans' father to answer, she ran upstairs and disappeared.
Waiting until the footsteps outside the door completely disappeared, Father Hans winked at Wei Ran and was the first to leave the turbid and humid basement with his weapon in hand.
As Father Hans returned to the first floor and climbed up the stairs to the second floor, the former pulled a stool and sat in front of the window, looking at the King's Square shrouded in thick fog, and asked soliloquy
He asked the same question as yesterday, "Victor, your reaction doesn't look like a new recruit."
"I just hate war"
While Wei Ran was talking, all the main forces were placed outside in the square filled with thick fog. The fire bunkers built by the young men last night had been completed. At this time, next to the gallows not far from the door, there were
There was a group of little kids in youth league uniforms with their chests straightened out and looking excitedly and proudly at the rank soldier who was brainwashing them. From time to time they would all stretch out their little arms and howl like ghosts.
Shout "Germany will finally win!"
"Hate war?"
Dr. Hans also looked at the children in the square who were lining up to poke holes in the corpses hanging on the gallows with daggers organized by the stall army. He murmured in a voice that only he could hear, "That's a
Good excuse, who doesn't hate war?"
Wei Ran withdrew his gaze, turned around and leaned against the wall and asked, "Dad Hans, you look like you are more than just a doctor."
"I just happened to catch up with the First World War when I was young."
Father Hans fumbled and took out a pack of crumpled cigarettes from his pocket. After Wei Ran declined politely, he took one out and lit it. He said in a particularly depressed tone, "My companions and I are here."
Apart from a few worthless pieces of iron that I could hang on my chest in exchange for a meaningless battle in a trench full of corpses and rats, the only memory left to me is that I lost one eye. However, and the square
Compared with those idiots, using one eye to get a clear brain now is already a very cost-effective deal."
Wei Ran sighed, "But if those brainwashed children want to regain their clarity of mind, the price they have to pay may be far more than just one eye."
"It would be better for such an idiot to die"
There was obvious indifference and disgust on the face of Father Hans, "Lest ten or decades from now, there will be another madman in a beer hall who ties everyone to the chariot.
In a world war, it would be better to let them all die under the guns of the Soviets now."
This chapter is not over yet, please click on the next page to continue reading! Before Wei Ran could say anything more, a child shouted in surprise from downstairs. Father Hans moved the cigarette butt that he had only taken two puffs down.
The window popped open, he breathed a sigh of relief, turned around and walked down the stairs.
Following Father Hans back to the first floor, the radio placed in the center of the dining table was playing impassioned nonsense to encourage morale. At the dining table, there was a man wearing the full uniform of the Youth League, with a kettle, a bugle and a dagger on his waist.
Mario sat upright, listening to the content on the radio very carefully. From time to time, he even straightened his back, and a strange look of excitement appeared on his small face.
Even when he saw Hans and Wei Ran coming downstairs, he immediately stood up, straightened his right hand, and shouted, "Hey! Suck..."
However, before the last two sounds came out from his leaky front teeth, Father Hans had already slapped Mario on the back of the head with a big ear scraper, "Shut up, you idiot! No more!"
Let me see you stretch out your right hand and I'll cut it off and make it for breakfast!"
This threat was obviously more effective than anything else. Mario was so frightened that he sat down on the floor, then cried, rolled and crawled and hid behind his brother Marco.
"Dad, you're scaring Mario again."
Marco said helplessly that this father who took good care of him was not a good-tempered man. It could even be said that if it weren't for his stick education, he might not be much different from his younger brother Mario now.
"I'm too lazy to scare this idiot"
Father Hans, who was dissatisfied with Mario, sat down on the chair at the dining table. After turning off the radio, he opened the upturned dinner plate, picked up a piece of bread with sausage and took a hard bite.
He kept saying, "Your aunt took the motorcycle away, so we can only go back on foot."
"Brother, do you want to leave?" Mario asked reluctantly, holding on to Marco's sleeves. His eyes that were a little aggrieved and frightened just now were full of reluctance and efforts to hold back.
of tears.
Marco, who was sitting on the chair, nodded and held his brother Mario on his lap, "Mario, wait for you to come with me."
"Can I go with you?" Mario asked excitedly, but then said with a grimace, "No, I have to put up posters today, and I have to help the post office deliver letters in the afternoon."
"I will take you to fight the Soviets, arrest the Jews, and hang them all on the gallows!" Marco offered a temptation that his younger brother could not refuse.
"Really? Really?!"
Mario jumped down and asked excitedly, swinging his legs, "I'm going to capture 100 Soviets! And then capture 100 Jews! Then burn them all to death. If you do this, you will definitely award me a medal in person!"
"Bang!" Father Hans slammed the table, which frightened Mario and quickly hid behind his brother.
"Look at the good things these madmen have done!" Father Hans clenched his fists and cursed fiercely, with a sadness that could not be concealed in his old eyes.
Marco sighed secretly, stood up, straightened out his major uniform, and said in a very formal manner, "Mario, now I recruit you as a major to join the battle order, and go with me to the front line to encircle Berlin!"
"It's a great honor for me! Mr. Major!"
Mario stopped his chest trembling with excitement, and subconsciously stretched out his right hand again. However, after Hans Hans coughed lightly, the arm he had just raised suddenly lowered it with a "snap", and the lines in his mouth also changed.
Became "Hey...my brother."
"Idiot!" Father Hans threw the last bite of bread into his mouth, "Marco, don't waste time, we should set off."
Marco nodded, "Mario, go change clothes quickly."
"I refuse!" Mario hugged the small bugle in his hand, "This is my weapon!"
"Go and change quickly. We have to go to the front line secretly. Otherwise, if my aunt finds out, she will definitely not allow you to follow me." Marco coaxed his younger brother and took off the youth league saber from his waist while speaking.
, "And when you get to the battlefield, I will give you a new military uniform, and I will also give you this sword when the time comes. Haven't you always wanted my sword?"
"Can you really give it to me?!"
Mario's eyes widened, and he took Marco's saber without thinking, then took off the small dagger hanging on his belt and handed it to his brother, "I'll trade with you, you must also have a weapon."
Dumbfounded, Marco took Mario's knife and hung it on his belt solemnly. The former then ran into a room on the first floor with the newly acquired knife.
Less than ten minutes later, Mario, wearing a khaki sweater, a pair of gray overalls, and a small hat, ran out again, flaunting his trouser legs to show that he had stuffed them into his socks.
The saber, the proud and exaggerated expression on that innocent face seemed not to be affected at all by the increasingly dense explosions outside the window.
"Let's go quickly!"
Father Hans didn't want to waste any more time, so he handed the submachine gun to Wei Ran, bent down and picked up the frightened Mario, and was the first to walk out of the room.
Under the cover of thick fog, a group of three people headed out of the city with a small bean sprout. In just one night, more buildings collapsed due to bombing and shelling on both sides of the street, and at the same time, more and more buildings collapsed.
There were also corpses that had not had time to be restrained and fire bunkers being built one after another.
Compared to when they came in last night, the interrogation when leaving the city towards the battlefield was more relaxed. There was even a veteran who looked about the same age as Father Hans along the way, and he generously gave Mario a freshly baked chicken leg with sauce.
But along the way, they also saw that the supervising teams who forced residents to support the front line were unscrupulously shooting civilians who opposed the war. Most of these civilians who died at the gunpoint of their own people were old people, and some of them even wore
With the medals they received during the First World War. Apart from the elderly, middle-aged and young adults only accounted for a minority. On the contrary, the arrogant war supervisors were filled with a large number of kids who looked like they had barely reached adulthood at most.
Whenever these little kids stretched out their right hands and shouted passionate slogans towards Marco who was passing by with envy on their faces, not only Marco had to respond quickly, but also Hans' father and Mario in his arms had to respond quickly to avoid being exposed. Only
However, among the three people, Mario was probably the most excited.
As for Wei Ran, this guy was completely bullying those people across from him because they didn't understand Chinese, and directly changed that crazy slogan into something that probably only he could understand.
"Victor, what the hell are you shouting?" Father Hans asked, slowing down slightly.
"Ask them if they have eaten," Wei Ran said, holding back a smile, "Come on, come on, I'll teach you! Say haha with me, hey! Have you eaten?"
"Hey! Do you want to eat snails?" Father Hans asked with great interest, "Is that so?"
"You can eat snails!" Wei Ran encouraged irresponsibly, "Just shout like that, I hope it will make you feel better."
"What language is this?" After Hans finished speaking, he muttered "Are you eating snails?" over and over again.
"Chinese is the greatest and most interesting language I know."
Wei Ran explained, and amid the rumbling sound of artillery, he took the initiative to raise his arms and shouted vaguely to the soldiers passing by who were building a fire fortress, "Hey! Have you eaten?"
The ruffian reminds you: please collect it after reading it.
