Chapter 60: Civilian Assignment

This...

Upon stopping in his tracks and observing the scene before him, Lynn's thoughts momentarily went blank.

This time, "Janker" neither led them to the dangerous front-line positions nor onto the mysterious "black cars." Instead, the group finally arrived at a civilian house located on the slope's backside. Gathered here were approximately fifty to sixty civilians, some with white hair, stooped over with age and leaning on canes, appearing out of breath after just a few steps; others with pale faces, requiring assistance from others to stand upright; and some still in infancy, completely lacking the ability to move on their own. At their feet lay bags and suitcases of various sizes. Two horse-drawn carts were parked nearby, with occupants sporting bandaged heads or arms, and the limited remaining space was filled with bags of food and bundles of blankets.

Normally, a town of this size would have a population nearing or exceeding a thousand people. Subtracting the able-bodied men and women who joined the military or went elsewhere for work, there would still be several hundred elderly, infirm, and children. Perhaps, as Lynn had previously speculated, most of the civilians had evacuated before the approach of the Soviet forces, leaving behind those who were either physically incapable of moving or who clung to their homeland in the hope that the German military could fend off the enemy's advance. Unfortunately, the empire's situation had long been deteriorating, and the once formidable army that had swept all before it in the early stages of the war was now bogged down in fighting on two fronts. Even with supposedly sturdy defense lines, they were unable to halt the relentless onslaught of the Soviet forces.

Looking at the anxious and helpless expressions of the people, Linen guessed his new mission: to escort these civilians away from the front lines.

In previous PC games, escorting civilians to the rear was not just an easy task. The journey was often fraught with difficulties and dangers, with evil enemies lurking to kill, and if the number of civilian casualties exceeded the limit, the mission would fail. Nowadays, the people in front of Linen were flesh-and-blood individuals. Their safety was just one aspect; along the way, their fatigue and hunger also had to be considered. Even if the mission failed, there would be no second chances. Thinking about this, Linen looked around. Besides the five soldiers brought by "Junker," there was also a small group of German soldiers who had arrived earlier. There were nine of them in total, with only two wearing helmets. The rest had bandages wrapped around their heads, or wore field caps or berets, or were simply bareheaded. Apart from the pioneers carrying cooking utensils, the others each carried weapons, but there were no heavy firepower such as machine guns, grenades, or rocket launchers. It was evident that the officers intentionally selected lightly wounded soldiers from the front lines to carry out low-intensity escort missions. As long as the defense line along the riverbank was not breached, the only thing they needed to guard against was the airstrikes by Soviet planes. Of course, the luggage that couldn't fit on the carts also had to be shared among these soldiers.

Shortly after, another German officer brought six "lightly wounded but still able to serve" soldiers, and then a lieutenant issued orders to all personnel, including civilians and soldiers: civilians must obey the arrangements of the military, and soldiers must do their utmost to protect the safety of the civilians. The destination of this trip was Königsberg, forty kilometers away.

Yes, Königsberg, one of the last bastions of the German army in East Prussia at the end of the war. Linen confirmed that he hadn't misheard. In his memory, in early 1945, the German High Command launched a large-scale evacuation operation codenamed "Hannibal" to evacuate as many civilians as possible from the areas about to be occupied by the Soviet army. The total number of civilians successfully evacuated reached millions, and the German Navy exhausted its last reserves. Unfortunately, history is written by the victors. Although the overall scale of this retreat operation was three times that of the Dunkirk evacuation, it was intentionally downplayed and forgotten by the Soviet Union and the Allied Powers. Only military enthusiasts with deep research might know its significance.

Based on his memory of the Battle of East Prussia and the "Hannibal" evacuation operation, Linen could already confirm his time, location, and the general situation of the war. However, he didn't expect to experience firsthand the epic and poignant retreat operation so soon, and his thoughts became somewhat confused.

If he could safely arrive in Königsberg, should he board the ship with the civilians or return to the front lines?

After experiencing the most brutal baptism of war, Linen, although not yet at the point of disregarding life and death, had become much more indifferent to personal life and death. Whether boarding the ship to leave or returning to the front lines, as long as he remained alive, he would continue to struggle against numerous dangers. There might be a thousand possibilities for the future, but no matter which step he took, he would face it with as calm a mindset as possible. However, fighting desperately to the end when knowing the outcome in advance, how despairing would that be?

"Let's go!"

With a tone devoid of joy or sorrow, the unnamed Wehrmacht lieutenant gave some instructions, then watched with a calm gaze as the people, in a loose column, moved north along the road. According to the numbers, one soldier was responsible for two to three civilians, which sounded like a high ratio. However, the realistic scene showed the hardships ahead: the soldiers were already more or less wounded, so on average, each of them had to carry one or two extra pieces of luggage. Considering the stamina of the elderly and children, their burden would only increase along the way.

His injured arm now healed, and after a day of rest, Linen's physical strength had somewhat recovered. So he voluntarily helped carry two suitcases for the civilians. Although they weren't as heavy as the "Night Warriors" carried, each one weighed about twenty pounds. He estimated they contained the most important and precious possessions of these civilians—gold, jewels, antiques, or perhaps rare books and artworks. Thinking of books, Linen naturally remembered the bookstore across from the church. The room full of books was a significant spiritual treasure, but judging from the situation in the town, most of the houses near the church had been destroyed, and the small bookstore would probably not have been spared. Suddenly thinking of the old man from the bookstore, Linen looked around for a while in this loose queue and finally caught a glimpse of his distinctive white goatee at the end of the line.

The old man still wore the same plain clothes, but he wasn't wearing glasses this time. He carried a small suitcase in his right hand and held a three- or four-year-old child with his left, with a "old woman" on the child's other side, draped in a large plaid shawl. She held the hem of the shawl with her right hand, covering her head and face as much as possible, and carried a canvas travel bag similar to a modern one in her left hand. At first glance, the three of them looked like grandparents taking their grandchildren. Linen turned back and walked over, squeezing one suitcase under his armpit and freeing his left hand to help the old man, then used a sentence from "German Daily Conversations":

"Hello, sir, nice to meet you! Can I help you?"

The old man had noticed Linen long ago. When he heard him speak, he replied curiously and gratefully, "Oh, it's you, the Dane! Thank you, I can manage myself!"

Judging from his posture and movements, the old man was still quite robust. In fact, two carts carrying luggage were walking behind them. Although the carts were heavily loaded, there should still be space to put down a small suitcase.

"Your grandson?" Linen didn't know how to say "granddaughter" in German, so he used this simple logic to substitute the words. He looked down at the child—a tender face flushed from the cold, wearing a gray knitted hat, a slightly oversized woolen coat, and a pair of delicate brown leather shoes. The whole outfit made him look like a typical European boy.

"She's my granddaughter! My son's daughter!" The old man looked kindly at the child. She timidly looked up at Linen, and suddenly blurted out, "Daddy!"

The old man hurriedly explained to Linen, "Uh, sorry! Her father was killed in North Africa in '43, and she doesn't understand what death means, but she misses her daddy a lot, so..."

"It's okay!" Linen smiled and reached out to pat her head, but the little girl broke away from her grandfather's hand and threw herself at him, tightly hugging his right leg, and with the whining tone unique to children, she cried out, "Daddy, don't go, don't go..."

Linen was taken aback, then felt a pang of sadness. He bent down, gently stroking the back of the child's head with one hand. The fine hair under the hat felt a hundred times softer than cashmere. The scent of the hat and clothes was faint, distinct from the musty odor of European adults, reminding Linen of his distant childhood amidst the smoke and flames of war.

"I'm really sorry!" The old man said with a tone of helplessness, "Her father died in North Africa in '43, and she doesn't quite understand how he died, but she misses him a lot, so..."

"It's okay! Um, what's her... name?" Lynn struggled to ask.

"Kathleen!"

As the old man uttered the name, the "old woman" beside him bent down and, in a gentle and pleasing voice, said to the little girl, "Sweetheart, come to mommy, darling!"