Chapter 401 Operation Starvation (17)

While Wilhelm was brainwashing little Hepburn, in Edinburgh, UK, the prisoner of war Dennis was complaining to his companion, Wendell, who was also a prisoner of war returning home for a visit. "I don't know when this dreadful time will end."

The deep winter cold is a great threat to the civilians on the British Isles, not only in terms of food supply but also often in terms of fuel supply.

Almost everything in the UK today has been labeled as military supplies, including food, oil, steel, imitation textiles, and even coal for heating. Almost everything is becoming scarce. The prices of all daily necessities are soaring, with only one thing not rising: the workers' wages. Not to mention an increase, many factories and companies are facing closure, and unemployed workers are coming in droves, with more and more people being forced to receive food relief assistance. But this kind of relief food is not enough to be full at every meal; it's a cycle of being full one meal and hungry the next.

The UK had already moved away from agricultural self-sufficiency two hundred years ago, with over eighty percent of the population being urban residents, and all food was basically dependent on imports.

Before the war between the UK and Germany, the UK had a population of nearly 48 million, with two-thirds of the country's food depending on imports. Once the war started, the British Empire's navy suffered a heavy blow, and German submarines and surface fleets wreaked havoc in the Atlantic, with a large number of British transport ships being attacked. These losses included not only raw materials such as steel and metal but also food such as rice, wheat, and sugar transported from various colonies.

The war changed everything, waking the British people from their sense of well-being. Suddenly, there was nothing on the streets, no beautiful and luxurious clothes, no delicious and cheap restaurants, and even the pubs that never closed hung up signs for limited business hours. Various leisure clubs disappeared overnight. Then came the soaring prices, and those farmers who used to drive farm vehicles into the city became the object of everyone's flattery overnight, with everyone hoping to get a fresh steak from them to improve their long-unseen meaty diet.

The pound was once the pride of the British, with all Britons proud that their banknotes were equivalent to an equal amount of silver. But now, a pound can't even afford a full meal, how can this not make the British feel depressed?

What's more disappointing is that although the government has always proclaimed that the British Empire will surely achieve the final victory, it just doesn't let people see the end of the war.

With the arrival of winter, heating became the biggest problem for all British civilians. The bit of coal provided by the government was simply not enough, and every British family treasured their coal, storing it in the pantry because if you weren't careful, the coal that no one would pick up if thrown on the ground would disappear without a trace.

Therefore, as soon as night fell, all British families had no other activities besides wrapping themselves in quilts to keep warm, all to save that precious coal.

Coal became an everlasting pain that all British civilian families could not forget. However, this also cultivated a good habit of thriftiness among the British, a habit of storing coal in the pantry that some British families maintained for decades to come.

"I actually want to go back now," said one. Leaving the prisoner of war camp to return home should have been a happy occasion, but at such a time, their arrival only added to the burdens of their already not-so-wealthy families. Moreover, their meals were far worse than those in the prisoner of war camp.

What's more fatal is that they also had no way to earn money to supplement their household expenses, truly becoming a burden.

Wendell brought up another matter. "Did the guys from the intelligence department look for you?"

"Of course, they did, a bunch of guys who are full and have nothing better to do." The day before yesterday, two intelligence department personnel came to his door, asking him in detail about everything in the prisoner of war camp, not knowing what use these guys had for such information. They weren't making guns or cannons in the prisoner of war camp; they were only producing civilian goods.

However, it was a bit disgusting that those intelligence officers even proposed to him to join forces with the prisoners in the camp to launch a production boycott movement, and even to plan an escape.

"These idiots," Dennis spat disdainfully. He had managed to live well in the prisoner of war camp thanks to his skills. "You think I'm too comfortable, don't you? Is escaping that easy?" When they first arrived at the prisoner of war camp, indeed, some had planned an escape, but the prisoners who escaped became corpses with their lower bodies blown off, hanging on the wall for public display the next day.

Moreover, once an escape was attempted, even if they took half a step out of the prisoner of war camp, they would lose the treatment of prisoners of war under the Geneva Convention and be shot immediately.

Dennis certainly didn't have the courage; although he agreed superficially, he secretly decided that if anything was amiss after returning, he would immediately report to the Germans.

Wendell apparently had a similar idea. "I don't want to be sent to a B-level or even C-level prisoner of war camp." He had stayed in a B-level camp for a while before being transferred to an A-level camp. He had a deep understanding of this, as the conditions in the A-level camp were much better than those in the B-level camp. Although he had never experienced a C-level camp, he had learned from the guards' remarks that a C-level camp was like hell on earth. It seemed that the Germans never intended to let anyone leave there alive.

Although he didn't know if the C-level camp really existed, he didn't want to fall from heaven to hell.

"You didn't see it, but one of the guys who came to question me heard that we could eat meat every other day in the camp, and he actually looked envious," Wendell said, unable to help but laugh out loud. Seeing that guy's expression, Wendell wondered if he wanted to be voluntarily locked up in the German camp.

After laughing a few times, Dennis sighed. "Ah, don't mention meat, my stomach is growling again. There's still a week before I can go back. How am I going to get through this week? How much food will I have to eat?"

Wendell asked, "How's your father's factory doing?"

"It's been approved, but now there are no raw materials, so how can we start work? I've heard that even the big factories can't start work, so how could it be possible for a small factory like ours?"

After a long silence, Wendell suddenly spoke up. "Do you think we could go back early?"

"Go back early? I'd like to go back early," Dennis said with a wry smile. "But how? We returnees are scattered all over the country. How do we contact each other, notify each one individually? Do you know their home addresses?"

Dennis shook his head in frustration and sighed. "Ah."