"The Heart of Germany"

Not knowing how long he had been asleep, when Logan woke up, the pain, as if thousands of steel needles were piercing into his head all at once, made him convulse violently like a fish not quite dead yet.

Uh...Finally, a faint light appeared in the darkness, and his body seemed to regain some sensation after the numbness of pain. With great difficulty, he opened his eyes, feeling as if they had been run over by a truck. The hellish horror scene did not appear; instead, a white ceiling reflected a slightly glaring light.

Huh? Was this heaven with angels with wings? Or was it a hospital with angels in cute uniforms?

Logan tried to turn his neck but found it as stiff and powerless as his limbs. After struggling for a while, he gave up exhaustedly. Just then, a large round face came into view, almost making Logan's heart jump out of his chest.

"Hey, Lieutenant, you're awake! How do you feel?"

This somewhat rugged voice lacked any charm. Combined with the round and smooth face, the "Michelin Tire Man"-esque neck, and the solid body, it completely subverted Logan's good impression of 'angels.'

"Oh... terrible!" Logan barely squeezed out a few syllables from his throat. Having lived in Germany for two years, normal conversation was not a problem, but he suddenly realized that the nurse, with her very stable center of gravity, had just addressed him as "Lieutenant."

Lieutenant? Local slang?

Before Logan could think further, the nurse, wearing a dark nurse's cap with a vintage shawl over her skirt, poked his arm with her chubby fingers. "Can you feel anything?"

"Um, a little!" The chubby fingers lingered on Logan's head for a moment. "Don't worry," she said, "the doctor said, apart from severe head trauma, the other parts are just minor scratches. You'll be fine when you wake up! It won't be long before you're back on the battlefield!"

Battlefield?

Logan suddenly felt his head splitting with pain.

"Rest well!" The rugged female voice said gently.

What's wrong with me?

Logan searched desperately in his remaining memories: studying in Austria, adapting to a new life, making new friends, joining the parachuting club...

The last fragment in memory was jumping out of an old transport plane. For some reason, the parachute ropes, carefully checked before departure, were tightly entangled, and the parachute failed to fully open. In this situation, Logan could only watch helplessly as he plummeted towards the ground at a dangerously high speed!

Ah...

A sense of inexplicable suspension woke Logan up. Was this a dream?

Trying to turn his head to the left, a row of white single beds came into view. From the furnishings, it seemed to be inside a traditional European-style church, but it seemed to have been set up as a field hospital!

Logan tried to lift his hands. These were not his hands. His hands weren't this big, didn't have this much hair, and the skin tone was wrong. It seemed he had become someone else now.

Struggling to sit up, most of the single beds around him were occupied. In front of him, a guy wearing German military uniform from World War II, his arms wrapped in thick bandages, was squeezing out an awkward smile.

Logan considered himself a thrill-seeker, but this joke seemed to have gone too far!

Well! If this isn't a dream, am I now a German?

"What day is it today?" he asked the guy on the opposite bed in German.

The man's toothless mouth opened, somewhat breathlessly. "May 20th, Monday!"

That didn't answer Logan's doubts, but he didn't directly ask "What year is it?" Instead, he cleverly asked, "Oh! Have there been any major events these days? I seem to have slept for a long time!"

"Major events? There are major events every day! I heard General Guderian and his armored division can already see the English Channel. The Allies will soon be surrounded by us, and the war will be over in a few weeks! This time, we're definitely going to win!"

Measured by the standards of a military enthusiast, Logan might not even be considered a "pseudo" enthusiast. Fortunately, he had some interest in history, and he had read plenty of "street stall literature."

Well! Damn it, it's 1940, and I've time-traveled! I've become a German, going to blow up the British and the French, then get sent to freezing Russia, shout "Heil Hitler" before being frozen into a popsicle? Damn it!

The more he thought about it, the more Logan felt his head was a mess. After a while, a sudden urge to urinate came over him, and he had to seriously consider the physiological reality.

Slowly lifting the thin blanket covering him, he found himself wearing only a pair of gray checkered shorts underneath. Damn! Did that fat nurse take advantage of him while he was unconscious?

Looking around, there were neatly folded military uniforms under the bedside table. Logan struggled to put on the trousers with his unfamiliar limbs. Just then, that dreadful voice came from behind:

"Oh, Lieutenant, why are you getting up! Come on, don't move," the plump hand came thundering down like a bolt from the blue, swiftly pulling up Logan's trouser zipper.

Logan's voice trembled instantly, goodness gracious, the size, the weight, the stability, she had all the potential to compete in the Olympic women's discus throwing event. Using an old advertising slogan: she was a VIP among women, a fighter jet among nurses, no, she was more like a bomber, at least at the level of a B-17 "Flying Fortress"!

"Thank you, I can handle it myself! Oh, by the way... where's the restroom?"

As the formidable nurse helped Logan into a gray shirt, she cheerfully said, "Oh, you need to use the restroom? Urine or feces? If it's urine, you can use the chamber pot under the bed! It's okay!"

Although Logan was no longer a naive virgin, having to urinate in public, especially facing such a sturdy and overwhelming lady, was more challenging than blindfolded skydiving!

"I think I'm fine now, I'll just move around a bit!" Logan managed to say as he took two steps forward, but his long legs were not cooperating well. He stumbled forward, nearly falling.

At this critical moment, a pair of large hands caught Logan, but at the same time, a huge "weapon" unceremoniously smacked him on the right side of his face.

Oh my goodness! The "Flying Fortress" is indeed living up to its reputation!

Suddenly, Logan recalled a post he had seen online: a British woman almost suffocated her boyfriend during intimacy because her breasts were too big! While this story might seem exaggerated to Easterners, such "fierce" women were not uncommon in Europe!

"Thank you... thank you! I'm fine, just been lying down for too long and my legs went numb!" Logan hurriedly explained.

Just having received the "tofu gift package," the nurse with an incredibly stable center of gravity smiled, "Hey, look at you being all shy. Haven't seen a woman in months, have you?"

Logan broke out in a cold sweat.

"Alright, alright, the restroom is just ahead on the left. Don't wander around after you're done. I'll come to give you your shot in ten minutes! Be a good boy!" 

With that, she turned around, swaying her large buttocks as she walked away.

Logan heaved a long sigh of relief, lifted his head, only to find sympathetic looks from the beds around him.

Damn it!

Although his movements were somewhat slow, Logan managed to get to the restroom without any mishaps. Just as he was about to relieve himself, he involuntarily gasped.

Very explicit!

With the unfamiliar member in hand, Logan uncomfortably expelled the liquid with a medicinal odor. It seemed he had received quite a few injections over the past few days!

After putting away the enhanced version of his little friend, Logan quickly went to the sink to look in the mirror. Seeing his new appearance, he couldn't help but mutter, "Oh man," again! With layers upon layers of bandages wrapped around his head, it almost covered his eyes. What had he become? An Indian or a super invincible zongzi (rice dumpling) head?

Upon closer inspection, there was still some comfort in his heart: this angular face was sunny, handsome, and generous. Although it was a bit inferior to his original appearance, it was passable—Logan shamelessly thought.

Exiting the restroom, feeling more in control of his limbs, Logan looked at the bright sunshine and swaying greenery outside the door. He decided to forget about what the plump woman had said about getting an injection and strolled out of the door.

The sun was setting, and a few clouds leisurely floated in the azure sky. A white bird flew calmly overhead. Around the church-like building, tall trees stood upright, bushes were lush, and children rode bicycles on the path ahead. Everything was so vibrant, peaceful, and harmonious.

Was this really wartime?

If it weren't for some wounded soldiers sitting under the shade of trees, Logan couldn't see any connection between such beauty and the brutal war!

Breathing in the incredibly fresh air, Logan temporarily forgot all his doubts and worries. Wearing his slippers, he slowly walked along the gravel path, habitually turning left at the first small intersection. Suddenly, he saw someone sitting with their back against a tree.

Snicker...

Logan couldn't help but laugh because the person, dressed in the same gray shirt and military pants as himself, had even thicker bandages on his head, making him look like a super invincible giant zongzi!

Logan held back his laughter, but tears still streamed down his face. The person seemed to realize something and glanced at Logan.

"Hans, you're awake!"

Do I know him?

Logan was at a loss, the guy seemed familiar, but if he asked something, he definitely wouldn't be able to respond. What should he do? Pretend to have amnesia? Would he be kicked out of the army or put on standby for having suffered mental trauma? While soldiers were undoubtedly dangerous, at least in these turbulent times, one didn't have to worry about food and shelter!

"Hans?" the person called out again.

Time didn't allow Logan to think too much: regardless, he decided to go over and chat, and play it by ear!