Chapter 19 The British Farmers

Although the two British patrolmen encountered some difficulties, it did not dampen Logan's confidence in carrying on with his persuasive spirit. After reuniting with the remnants of Stephenberg's group, he took Oliver Scobie, the younger brother of General Puchel's aide-de-camp Pearson Scobie, and rode ahead on the bicycles of the British patrolmen to scout the road.

In both his past and present lives, Logan never liked nepotism. The reason he selected young Scobie for the assault team this time was only one percent because of his brother's influence and forty-nine percent because this man had studied in England for three years, speaking fluent English. As for the remaining fifty percent, it was due to his extraordinary performance in marksmanship training!

An officer immersed in studying marksmanship might not make a good officer, but he could be a valuable assistant!

"I say, how did you end up studying in England?" Logan, feeling slightly relieved, initiated the conversation—of course, in English.

Having spent three years in England, young Scobie's English was indeed remarkably fluent. "My father collaborated with his brother-in-law in doing business in England. After achieving some success, he brought my mother and me over. Actually, he always hoped that my brother and I would pursue careers like doctors or lawyers, rather than joining the military like he did back then. Unexpectedly, we ended up defying his wishes after all!"

"Oh, I see! But his considerations were not entirely unreasonable. War is indeed brutal, just like what we are facing today—some people..." Logan stopped himself midway through his sentence.

Unperturbed, young Scobie remarked, "Such is the fate of soldiers, isn't it?"

"Hmm, it's good to have such perspective!" After a pause, Logan decided to switch to a less profound topic. "By the way, it seems your brother really hopes you'll become a commander?"

"Yes, he believes that even the best sniper is just a soldier, but being a commander is different! Not only do you not have to risk your life at the forefront, but you also get to enjoy the best treatment!"

"Is that so? Hehe!" Logan chuckled. It was inevitable that there would be different roles within a military force, just like the various professions in society. It was hard to say which was superior, but an undeniable fact was: those with power and money were always on top, and this was even more pronounced in the military!

Young Scobie seemed to have a vastly different personality from his brother—naive, straightforward, and perhaps a bit innocent.

"I didn't used to think like that, but after hearing about your raid on the British Expeditionary Force headquarters, I realized that commanders can also be heroes! So, when I heard about the formation of the exemplary airborne battalion, with you as the commanding officer, I was the first to sign up!"

This attitude was somewhat reminiscent of Boggs, the "bootlicker". Logan said seriously, "Following me might offer you a chance to gain dazzling honors, but it could also mean losing your life prematurely. Sometimes, the rewards are proportional to the risks!"

Young Scobie unexpectedly made a profound remark, "War itself is an adventure, isn't it? Our country has already placed its bet. What reason do we have to stand aside?"

As they rode and chatted, they momentarily cast aside the shadow of war. In many aspects, they found their understandings to be similar or compatible, which somewhat surprised Logan. After about twenty minutes of cycling, the first building finally appeared on the road ahead—a small, pointed-roof farmhouse.

Taking advantage of their British military uniforms, Logan boldly knocked on the door, quickly awakening the homeowner.

"Who's there, this late at night!" An old man, dressed in worn-out trousers and a tattered undershirt, came to open the door with a candle in hand. If he were in the classic game "Heroes of Might and Magic III," he would probably be a level 1 peasant with 1 hit point, 1 attack, 1 defense, and 1 speed — the lowest tier of grassroots creatures.

Upon seeing Logan and little Scobie, the farmer immediately adopted a respectful tone. "Oh, Mr. Officer, what can I do for you?" he said.

"Nothing is of course not going to knock on the door," Logan thought to himself. As a righteous "law enforcer of the military," he said solemnly, "Hello, sir, I'm sorry to disturb you at this late hour, but we've just run into a bit of trouble: our car broke down. We're headed to Sandown, do you know how far it is from here?"

"Sandown town?" The old man noticed the bicycles behind the two, and his right eyebrow raised unconsciously. "It's only about 10 minutes by bike!"

"10 minutes?"

Although Logan was somewhat prepared for this answer, he couldn't help but curse the cunning bastard from before silently.

"That's great, but... sir, we have several companions who are injured. Do you happen to have any transportation like a carriage?"

Logan asked politely, although they had noticed a stable behind the farmhouse before knocking on the door, and there should be large hoofed animals called horses or mules inside.

The farmer, who didn't seem to belong to the honest type, hesitated slightly before saying, "Oh, I do have a carriage, but it's quite old, and my horse isn't very strong..."

Logan gave him a fierce look, about to settle the matter under the pretext of "compulsory requisition." But then he had a second thought, and pulled out a stack of pounds from his pocket. "For a fee, 50 pence per hour. How about it?"

Seeing the money, the English farmer's eyes lit up. "Wait a moment, I'll get dressed and come!"

As Logan put the money back in his pocket, he made a face at little Scobie.

In the midst of summer, the farmer came out wearing trousers and went to the stable to bring out his carriage. From a modern aesthetic perspective, this was indeed a very old and dilapidated means of transportation. The thin and old horse, coupled with the ancient wagon wheels and cracked boards everywhere, made people worry.

However, under the current circumstances, Logan and his companions couldn't be picky. Following the farmer's lead, they retraced their steps, and fifteen minutes later they encountered the paratroopers who had walked there. The farmer showed great curiosity about the wounded here. Fortunately, they weren't gunshot wounds, and Logan managed to cover it up with "truck flipped into a ditch."

Despite a very bad start, when the clock pointed to 2:15 in the morning, Logan and his "provost team" arrived at the small town of Sandown in the southeast of the Isle of Wight, nearly an hour and a half later than planned.

Stepping onto the gravel road, Logan felt as if he had returned to Monck before it was ravaged by war. The complex historical origins between England and France meant that many of their architectural styles intertwined with each other. Moreover, both Monck and Sandown were built on the Georgian style of the Renaissance period. Given their similar scale, it was not surprising to have this illusion. In fact, just before the operation began, Logan had deliberately taken the time to take "Little Sophie Marceau" and her two siblings to Monck. After several fierce battles, especially under the heavy artillery bombardment of the British, there were only broken walls left in Monck. Among the surviving residents, only two families returned to their homeland. Seeing their own plight, Logan was also helpless, but considering the uncertain life and death of this trip, the German farmer's house must not be able to stay for a long time. So he left all the money on him (Imperial Marks should be freely circulating in the occupied area) to "Little Sophie Marceau," asking her to take her two siblings to live in another village near Monck.