Chapter 67: The Fire-Carrying Soldier

"Hey buddy, what's your name? I'm Lynn, Lynn Galgo!"

Although his German proficiency was still at the elementary level, in order to improve as quickly as possible, Lynn was not satisfied with acquiring knowledge from just two "bibles". He had exchanged many words with the white-goateed soldier along the way, and occasionally even teased little Carina with simple conversations. As they walked towards the "Oliver Line" over the hills, he finally "made a move" towards his comrade carrying the black pot.

"Carl, Carl Del Otto!" the private answered without looking back.

"I'm from Denmark, how about you?" Lynn asked again.

"Belgium, Flanders!"

It turned out he was also a foreign volunteer soldier, but how come his German was so fluent?

Among the million-strong Waffen-SS troops at their peak, there were quite a few volunteer soldiers from different countries. Many of them were Germans living abroad, as well as enthusiastic admirers of the Nazis and the Führer. There were also Finns, Spaniards, Italians, Dutch, Belgians, and even French people. Of course, many were there for livelihood or revenge. Generally speaking, their identities and nature could be roughly distinguished based on the Waffen-SS units they belonged to.

"You're German too, right?" Lynn rolled his tongue and said.

"Of course!" the private carrying the black pot replied, "If I'm not mistaken, the Danes are all in the 11th Armored Division. It withdrew directly from Latvia to Germany for rest a month ago, didn't it!"

This sentence was a bit long, and if it weren't for the white-goateed soldier quietly translating a few key English words from behind, Lynn wouldn't have understood the meaning. However, even if he understood the meaning, he couldn't respond: unless they were die-hard military fans of the Waffen-SS, who remembers the operational routes and final outcomes of each division in history?

Without Lynn's response for a long time, the private turned halfway and said, "Hey buddy, I didn't mean anything else, just wanted to tell you: you seem to have fallen behind!"

"Maybe!" Lynn said while thinking, "But my comrades, my superiors are all in the defensive line behind!"

This short sentence was full of errors, so much so that the private stopped and looked at Lynn, saying, "Buddy, your German is not that good!"

Lynn shrugged helplessly, "My mother is German, my father is Danish, so..."

(Note: Although Danish and German share a common origin, namely Germanic languages, due to the long period of differentiation, by modern times, only about 40% of the written language is similar to German, and there are significant differences in spoken language, and the grammar has lost its inflection, which is more similar to English. Of course, the main reason why the protagonist uses English is because English is widely taught in compulsory education ^_^)

It seemed that the private did not doubt Lynn's identity. He nodded kindly, "Oh, I understand, no need to explain!"

Lynn added unnecessarily, "I am currently working very hard to learn German!"

"Well, good luck!" The private slightly accelerated his pace. Soon, the five of them arrived at the front line, and before they got close, a rifle-bearing sentry shouted, "Halt, minefield!"

"We are allies!" the private carrying the black pot shouted loudly, "We came from the Kass Line and were ordered to escort civilians. There are still many people behind us!"

"Stay there and don't move!" the sentry's response was still cold. Lynn glanced at the defensive line and saw at least four or five black gun muzzles directly aimed at them, including a light machine gun—with its rapid fire capability, it could wipe them all out in the blink of an eye.

In a moment, two soldiers with rifles and large ear helmets came out from the defensive line, but they didn't walk on the main road, instead cautiously along the edge of the road. Presumably, landmines had already been laid in the center of the road, and Lynn wondered how the two carriages had passed earlier. They didn't see them stop or turn back along the way, indicating that there must be passages on the defensive line for vehicles to pass.

"Stay where you are, especially your weapons!"

When the two soldiers with large ear helmets said this, their submachine guns were raised to the appropriate firing position. This surprised both Lynn and the private carrying the black pot, and little Carina shrank in Lynn's arms in fear.

The woman and the white-goateed soldier also stood still like sculptures.

"Hey guys, don't be nervous! I'm Private Karl Del Otto from the 27th Armored Infantry Battalion of the 27th Armored Infantry Regiment of the Armed SS Support Grenadier Division! We're allies, not Soviet spies!"

The private tried to liven up the atmosphere, but the two soldiers coming towards them did not lower their gun muzzles. This situation reminded Lynn of scenes from movies where police faced off against bandits. He was puzzled: with so many guns pointed at them from behind, was it necessary for them to be so nervous?

Finally, when they walked up, checked their documents one by one, the tense atmosphere eased somewhat. When the private asked "why", one of the soldiers spoke in a low voice, babbling a long string of words. Lynn only understood a few words like "night", "attack", "superior", etc., and combined with the nighttime infiltration operations he had participated in before, he guessed a bit: the Soviets had also sent troops to infiltrate, probably causing considerable trouble to the German defensive line and threatening the safety of the rear defense line.

Following the two soldiers with submachine guns, Lynn and the others walked cautiously along the edge of the road, fearing they might accidentally step on mines laid by their own side. Fortunately, this section of the road was not long, and they quickly passed through the barbed wire and trench area. As they were about to bid farewell, one of the soldiers with submachine guns said to Lynn, "Hey buddy, you have a beautiful wife and a lovely daughter, how lucky you are! Take care!"

"Uh..." Lynn was about to echo, but suddenly thought that this might be a probing question to guard against Soviet spies, so he shrugged at the soldier who asked the question, "It would be nice if it were true!"

The private carrying the black pot also explained on the side, "They are civilians we were ordered to protect, the last group of evacuees from Horgen town. The main force is still behind!"

"Oh!" the soldier with the large ear helmet replied flatly, and to Lynn and Alice, who happened to be walking together, he said, "You two really look matching. Good luck!"

The depth of the "Oliver" line was not wide. It was only three to four hundred meters from the minefield to the anti-tank gun positions. Looking around, there were very few defenders on the position, and there were only a few guns and cannons. Behind the defensive line, you could still see several open-air repaired tanks and assault guns. From the looks of it, Lynn guessed that this defensive line was a peripheral buffer defense, and once the frontline position was lost, the retreating troops could use the existing fortifications here to organize defense.

After asking the officer on the defensive line, Karl led Lynn and the others directly to a civilian house located behind the defensive line. There was a fire burning in the stove, and a middle-aged man without any military rank or branch insignia had just boiled a large pot of soup. The smell of food was tantalizing, and more than thirty civilians, mostly elderly, women, and children, had been eagerly waiting on the side, and in just a moment, the bread and soup that had been prepared beforehand were divided up and consumed.

Seeing that the stove was empty, Karl simply greeted the middle-aged man and put his pot down on the stove. It was only at this moment that Lynn truly understood what he meant by "we don't need to make our own fire".

Because his left hand was injured, Private Karl asked Lynn to help. The two bags they carried contained black bread and the potatoes and cabbage Lynn was carrying. Karl taught Lynn to roughly wash the potatoes and then cut them into pieces into the big pot. The cabbage was also very simple, just peeling off the leaves layer by layer, tearing the big ones in half, and putting the small ones directly into the pot. Finally, he used a small knife to cut a whole piece of black bread into small pieces and took out a small piece of sausage from his backpack, cutting it into small pieces, and threw all of these into the pot.

While waiting for the soup to boil, Private Karl taught Lynn to use a small knife to cut each black bread into roughly equal thirds, which was the daily rations for an adult civilian, while soldiers protecting civilians could receive two pieces. As they worked, this German from Belgium chatted with Lynn in some daily phrases with great interest. With Carina occasionally joining in, the shadows of war, death, and defeat were temporarily cast aside.

When the soup boiled, the civilians who had come from Horgen also gradually arrived at the defensive line. Although all the ingredients added up to less than a quarter of the pot, this pot of soup, meticulously cooked by Private Karl, was fragrant and delicious, with chunks of tender potatoes. Taking a spoonful, it was more delicious than any meal Lynn had eaten in the past few days.

This meal was not only delicious for the refugees who had come for refuge, but also attracted some soldiers on the defensive line. As a reward, they used a newly repaired half-track armored vehicle to transport the civilians for a distance. Although only a dozen people could sit on one trip, and the fuel was only enough for one round trip, and they could only take the passengers to the defensive line near Konigsberg, it still greatly eased the current plight of this group of civilians.