As night fell, the field hospital that had been busy all day fell into silence. Wei Ran, carrying five kettles in his hand, walked out of the shadows between several trucks and strolled back to the hospital where he had been waiting for a long time.
his tent.
"The beer is here"
Wei Ran waited for Randy to fasten the tent door and hang up the cans, then placed five heavy water bottles on the ammunition box that served as a table.
I don’t know if it was to appease the panic caused by the sneak attack last night, but tonight’s dinner was also a lot richer. Not only did it include the steak that I only had time to eat a few bites of yesterday, but there were also some American stews and pasta, and even because
The supply of supplies became more and more abundant, and Marshall relied on his connections in the engineer camp to get back a box full of Coke.
"Before we begin, let's toast Captain Sean with the first glass of wine."
Pastor Tom held a metal cup filled with beer and said, "He is a respectable soldier. He saved many people's lives."
"Here's to Sean!"
Everyone, including Will, raised the glasses they had just filled with beer and clinked them together. No one felt that there was anything wrong with having a black man in the tent, but Will himself seemed a little reserved.
Taking a sip of beer, Marshall poked the steak with his fork and took a bite. He said with some memories, "Sean is a bastard. He used to be the leader of a small gang in our local area. You know, the one in school."
We grew up in a gang. We robbed the lower class of money together, stole cars and drove them out to have fun together, smoked marijuana together, and one time when we got high, that bastard even took the lead in setting fire to other people's houses."
"Stop talking about these things."
Tom, who seemed to know something about the inside story, wisely picked up the glass again, interrupted Marshall's memory and said, "Second glass, let's celebrate that we have a new friend. He is Will. This bastard is a devout believer in God.
He also saved the lives of Victor and Marshall, so for the second glass of wine, let’s toast to Will. I don’t think anyone will have any objections, right?”
"To Will" Wei Ran was the first to raise his cup in response.
"Here's to Will." Randy, the stretcher-bearer, raised his glass second and burped after speaking.
"To Will." Marshall smiled and raised his glass. He was completely different from Wei Ran when he first met him.
"To...to all of you, my friends."
Will raised his cup and said apologetically, "Marshall, I'm sorry, I took your gun away on D-Day, and..."
"nothing"
Marshall held the cup and clinked it with the former indifferently, "I also threatened Victor with a gun that day."
"It does happen," Wei Ran agreed with a smile.
"Will, where are you from?"
Randy picked up the cup, clinked it with Will, and took the initiative to explain, "Tom is from Hawaii, and Marshall and I are both from Texas. Of course, Marshall later moved to...Marshall, where did you move to? Michigan
?”
"Mississippi" Marshall burped, "I was shooting... I did some stupid wrong things, so I moved to Mississippi."
"Georgia, I'm from Georgia."
The black man Will introduced himself with a beer, "I am a music teacher, and I am also responsible for teaching the choir of the church in our town."
"It seems that I have met a colleague." Tom smiled and clinked glasses with Will. "Will, after drinking beer, maybe we can sing some hymns to these three unbelieving bastards."
"I am also a devout believer!" Randy defended dissatisfiedly.
"You're only religious when you need God" Marshall ruthlessly exposed Randy's true colors.
"Of course I'm fine"
Will raised his head and drank all the beer in the cup, then took out a white harmonica from his pocket, "And I can not only sing hymns, don't forget that I am a music teacher."
At this point, Will had already brought the harmonica to his mouth and played a short piece of music fluently.
"I can also play the harmonica, and I know this tune!"
Randy was the first to answer, "This is the theme song from Casablanca, right?"
"It's also my favorite tune and song." When talking about music, the restraint on Will's face disappeared, and he even took the initiative to sing a short part.
"Give me the harmonica!" Randy stretched out his hand to Will, "I'll accompany you!"
Will was stunned for a moment, then handed the harmonica to Randy, who looked eager to try it.
Soon, gentle music accompanied by Will's calm and soothing voice floated outside from the tent full of bullet holes. Several military policemen on patrol looked at each other and quietly came outside the tent of Wei Ran and others.
He took off his helmet and placed it on the ground, then sat on it.
Gradually, Tom and Marshall in the tent began to sing along. As they sang one song after another, no one knew that more and more people were sitting outside the tent.
"Victor, it's your turn."
Randy drank the last of his beer and said, "You can't just keep listening here, can you?"
Well... Wei Ran grinned, saying that everything else was okay, but singing was really his weakness.
"Looks like we stumbled upon something Victor isn't good at."
Marshall, who was in a much better mood, gloated and encouraged, "Victor, people who sing out of tune are the most interesting. Come on, tell me what you want to sing. We have a music teacher here, and Will will definitely know it."
I can accompany you."
"That bastard Marshall was right."
Tom followed, "I remember a wounded man brought a guitar. I can borrow the guitar if necessary."
"Or can we help you choose?" Randy followed up with a suggestion, and Will played a smooth and slightly funny tune on the harmonica to tease Wei Ran.
Seeing that he couldn't escape, Wei Ran simply put the unfinished beer in the middle and said, "Forget singing. That's really not what I'm good at, but I can let you listen to something different."
This chapter is not over yet, please click on the next page to continue reading! "What's different?" Tom asked with interest.
"Wait for me a moment, I need to go out and make preparations."
Wei Ran stood up as he spoke and walked towards the tent door which was tied with a rope. However, when he bent down and got out of the tent, he noticed that at some point, there were twenty or thirty people sitting around outside the tent.
, among these people were two familiar-looking military policemen, chefs who worked in the dining car during the day, doctors including Harrison and Bullock, and even some wounded who were not seriously injured.
What's even more commendable is that, perhaps because of the shared suffering yesterday, these black-and-white wounded people actually sat together for a rare occasion, and most of them had Cokes in their hands and touched them with the people around them from time to time.
These audience members who appeared out of nowhere not only startled Wei Ran, but even the other people in the tent subconsciously wanted to put away the kettles that still smelled of beer.
A military policeman closest to the tent door knocked on his helmet with the word "MP" printed in white on the bottom of his buttocks, and hinted with a smile, "Mr. Tom, now is our rest time. I hope you don't mind us listening to music nearby."
take a break."
Hearing this, Tom breathed a sigh of relief, turned around and proactively suggested, "Will, conduct everyone to sing a hymn, just like you conduct the choir in your local small town church."
Will tugged at his collar nervously, but finally plucked up the courage to sing together with Tom, while Randy played the harmonica in coordination.
As for Marshall, no matter how bold he was, he did not dare to show any disrespect to Mr. God at this time. He even pretended to stand up and gently swayed his body from side to side while rolling his eyes and making mouth movements.
Soon, the people outside the tent started singing along, and as the singing grew louder, even the wounded in the surrounding tents joined in.
Seeing that the self-entertainment of the first few people seemed to be transforming into a large battlefield choir, Wei Ran also quickened his pace and hid in the shadows at the edge of the camp.
Originally, he was planning to find an excuse to take out the Guqin Yaoguang if it didn't work out, but now it is obvious that the wounded who have become excited have found their own fun.
With no intention of going back for the time being, Wei Ran strolled toward the beach. A few days ago, this place had been a battlefield of bloody battles, and dead soldiers and wailing wounded could be seen at almost every step.
Today, a few days later, the corpses and wounded that exuded the smell of blood and panic have disappeared. The entire beach has long been smoothed by the ebb and flow of the sea, leaving only some tanks or landing equipment that have not been cleaned.
The wreckage of the car silently tells everything about that time.
He took off his helmet and placed it on the wet beach. He pulled his hair that was covered by the helmet and sat on it. At the same time, he raised his feet and stepped on a crab that he thought was well hidden as a prank.
In soft sand.
Looking around, and then at the warships dragging upstream on the sea in the distance, Wei Ran hesitated for a moment and took out the Guqin Yaoguang from the metal book under the bright moonlight.
In the cool sea breeze, the strings of the piano were gently plucked, and the song "Drunken Madness" faded in and out amidst the sound of the waves, relieving Wei Ran's tense nerves these days.
Those wounded who were struggling on the operating table, those who had no choice but to give up, those who had no time to be treated, and those strangers who had just met one moment and turned into corpses the next, followed like movie clips.
The tunes appear and disappear one by one.
When the song ended, Wei Ran noticed a military policeman sitting not far away with a Coke bottle in his hand.
"Good evening, Victor."
The military policeman took the initiative to say hello, and soon Wei Ran recognized the other party's identity. This military policeman happened to be the unlucky guy who had been doused with natto by Marshall.
"Good evening" Wei Ran responded apologetically, "Sorry about Captain Sean's matter..."
"no need to say sorry"
The military policeman shook his head and said, "Captain Sean did what he should do, and you did what you should do, so there is no need to apologize."
Wei Ran opened his mouth, but in the end he didn't say anything more. Instead, he gently plucked the strings and played another song he knew, "Guangling San".
"My brother was also killed in battle."
The military policeman said remorsefully to himself, "I originally thought that that bastard Marshall driving the fire-breathing tank in his place would make him safer, but I didn't expect it to hurt him."
With a "Plop" sound, Wei Ran accidentally played the wrong string, and finally stopped what he was doing and quietly became a listener.
"I don't even know how to face my mother when I go back, how to tell her that I successfully killed my brother with my own cleverness."
The military policeman continued with a cry, "I can't even put his body together completely. I can't tell whether the body parts are his or the Japanese who were killed by him with grenades."
"At least he did what he had to do, just like Captain Sean."
After Wei Ran finished speaking, he started playing Guangling San again, which he had just played wrongly. The military policeman who was about to say something else ended up lying on the wet beach, looking at the moon above his head with tearful eyes.
After a long time, when the Guangling song was finished, the military policeman also wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes, struggled to get up, came to Wei Ran's side and stretched out his sand-covered hands, "Thank you Victor, although you
The instruments and music sounded weird, but I felt much better."
"I'm honored to be able to help you." Wei Ran smiled and reached out to hold the other person's hand.
