Chapter 39: Did I Miss an Exciting Plot Twist?

Struggling to open his heavy eyelids, which felt like they had been run over by a truck, Logan caught sight of an angelic face. Um... was it morning already?

"Hey, Lieutenant, looks like this French girl is quite concerned about you!" Mark Ira, the former gatekeeper, with bandages wrapped around his head and a cigarette dangling from his mouth, sat casually nearby. On either side squatted a pair of children—the younger siblings of "Little Sophie Masson."

"I don't understand what she's saying, but... it seems the French grandparents have passed away!" Airman Rankin Fritz, with a prominent hooked nose, his left arm entirely bandaged up, said with some compassion.

"What?" Logan asked in French. "What happened to your grandparents?"

"They're dead!" the girl said softly. "They were probably too tired, too weary, and wanted to rest in heaven!"

Logan sighed. If it weren't for his luck, he might be lining up at the gates of heaven right now!

"I've been very obedient!" the girl said with a quiver in her voice.

"I know, Lili! Actually, for them, death is a relief; it's living that's truly painful!" Logan's words were a heartfelt reflection. Despite being alive, his head was throbbing like never before, his bones felt as if they'd come apart, and he wasn't sure if his organs still belonged to him. Looking back, the previous battles had been too brutal, too harrowing.

The girl lowered her head, seeming to ponder Logan's words.

After a moment, Logan continued, "Hey, Lili! Heaven is a happy place. The departed bless us from there, blessing all the living! And your grandparents, they would want you and your siblings to live well, healthy, and safe!"

The girl turned to look at her younger siblings, who were still completely innocent and unaware. Her childish face displayed a complex expression—sadness, affection, helplessness, confusion, and a hint of responsibility.

As the saying goes, children from poor families grow up quickly. Logan couldn't help but reflect on his own childhood, which hadn't been particularly joyful.

"Yeah! And Auntie will also live well, right?" Without missing a beat, "Little Sophie Masson" turned her head, her gaze innocent, pure, and melancholic, yet filled with determination, much like Isabella in "Braveheart."

"Yes, I promise, in the name of..."

"In the name of dandelions!" the girl finished his sentence.

"Why dandelions?" she asked softly.

"Have you seen paratroopers jumping?" Logan pointed to the paratrooper emblem on his uniform. "When the parachute opens in the air, it looks like dandelions drifting in the wind!"

"Oh! I saw them two months ago. They were beautiful, like angels from heaven!" The girl stared intently at the emblem. The three black openings didn't seem to have any connection to a parachute, but it was indeed the insignia of the German 7th Paratrooper Division.

"Angels? Um... angels can also get hurt!" Logan said somewhat self-deprecatingly, turning his head with effort. "Mark, is the fighting outside over? How are the others?"

"Finally, you remember this important question!" The former gatekeeper seemed displeased with Logan's childish conversation with the French girl. He grumbled, "The fighting ended two hours ago. The Allies retreated, bypassing Monk towards Dunkirk! They must have been afraid of our bombers! Lieutenant Stefenberg woke up before you did, but he just fell asleep again! Oh, and that embedded journalist, you guys were all trapped under the armored car, yet only suffered some minor injuries. It's a miracle!"

"Huh? Trapped underneath?" Logan could hardly imagine flipping over the heavy half-track armored car. How much force would that take? Was it something a regular shell could achieve? Did the British infantry stuff a pack of explosives underneath?

Thinking of these complex questions, his head throbbed as if torn apart. It's better to just rest!

The former gatekeeper continued, "I was grazed by shrapnel as the fighting was about to end. Rankin wasn't as lucky; a bullet shattered his hand bone. It'll take him two or three months to recover!"

"What's a little injury like that?" the hooked-nose airman said indifferently.

After lying down for a few minutes, Logan finally felt his head ache subside. Using his incredibly sore hands for support, he sat up. "Did the medical officer really say I only had minor injuries?"

"Yes!" the former gatekeeper replied. "And your head might have taken a blow. The previous wound reopened and was stitched up!"

Hearing this, Logan felt exasperated. Did God take the wrong medicine? Was He specifically targeting his head to make a vegetable out of him?

Well, without looking in the mirror, he knew he looked like a zongzi! Confident that his body was fine, Logan got out of bed and walked heavily out of the makeshift field tent. The sky outside was brightening, but thick clouds still shrouded the world in a dull gray. In his line of sight, there were shell craters, bloodstains, and various debris, remnants of the battle. Further away, he indeed spotted an overturned half-track armored car.

"Ah, Lieutenant, you're awake! Feeling better?" A cotton pad was stuck on the glasses man's face, but he seemed cheerful and light-footed. He still had that square old-fashioned camera hanging around his neck—though in this era, it might be considered quite advanced!

"Um, not really! How about you?" Having fought side by side, Logan's tone softened. This guy looked sleazy and weak, yet surprisingly brave.

The glasses man stretched his arms. "I'm ready to fight the Brits again! By the way, Lieutenant, if possible, I'd like to continue the interview we started earlier!"

"Interviewing heroes? Haha, aren't you a hero yourself now?" Logan laughed.

"Hehe, I just lost a few grenades. Besides, when the armored car flipped over, I thought I was going to die and yelled for help! So, how can I still call myself a hero?" The glasses man raised his camera. "But most importantly, my baby is intact. The photos inside are priceless treasures! Shall we take another picture together? Not missing any words."

Logan quickly waved his hand. "Forget it! Taking pictures of me in this state would just tarnish the image of the Air Force!"

As they spoke, a buzzing sound came from the sky. They all instinctively looked up, watching as a large group of German bombers flew from east to northwest towards Dunkirk.

"Beat those Brits to a pulp!" Mark Ira, the former gatekeeper, waved his fist indignantly.

Boom... Boom...

The howitzers deployed near the town also sprang into action. While increasing the firing rate to extend the range would greatly accelerate the wear and tear of the barrels, compared to their tactical and even strategic significance, these losses were completely worthwhile!

Perhaps hearing their conversation, Lieutenant Stefenberg, whose head was also wrapped like a zongzi, emerged from a nearby tent. "Lieutenant, you're awake! Um... my head hurts!"

"Feels like I've been hit on the head again?" Logan joked.

"Pretty much!" the lieutenant replied with a wry smile.

As they breathed in the fresh morning air of the small town and chatted about topics beyond life and death, they soon heard the clanking sound of tank treads coming from the direction of the town.

Logan turned around to see, oh, it was actually a squadron of tanks!

"Where did these guys run off to last night? They only show up after the fighting's over!" the paratrooper lieutenant said somewhat discontentedly.

"Oh, Lieutenant, you probably don't know yet! These are the forward units of the Wehrmacht that just arrived this morning. The tank battalion of the Guard Regiment suffered heavy losses in last night's bombardment. It's said that only less than ten tanks were preserved! But... we don't need to worry too much. Their replenishment speed is much higher than that of the regular army!" the glasses man explained.

"So... does that mean the siege of Monk has been lifted, and our army has advanced to the outskirts of Dunkirk?" Logan looked at his companions with excitement, seemingly the last one here to hear the good news.

"That's right! Our army has smashed through the Allied perimeter like crushing eggshells... pop! Breaking the Allied outer defenses to pieces!" Dietrich popped out from somewhere, his head also wrapped in thick bandages. Along with the "selfish" Rost, these few stood together, looking like a gathering of Indian babus.

"So, I've missed out on some exciting developments?" Logan seemed unperturbed.

"Indeed, Lieutenant Hans Logan, brave and wise, but what does it matter? I'll have people send you and your men to Sodon. I believe the Supreme Command's special train is still there!" Dietrich smiled.

"Um... could you take care of these French people for me?" Logan glanced at "Little Sophie Masson" and the two children standing beside her.

"Of course! As you wish!" The "you" uttered by the commander of the Fuhrer's Guard Regiment was filled with admiration.