"What should we do?" Although they had made up their minds, they didn't dare to act recklessly. After all, treason and defection on the battlefield meant a death sentence; they wouldn't even need a military court; they could be executed on the spot.
"It's simple. Have you forgotten we're on the front lines? The German positions are right in front. When it gets dark, we'll sneak over." Harrison pointed across to the German positions, speaking casually.
Ashton felt that this decision was too hasty. Even if they sneaked over, what if the Germans thought they were attempting a raid? What if a barrage came their way? If the Germans didn't let them surrender and the were labeled traitors by the British, it would be a miserable way to die. "This isn't secure enough. I think we should send someone over before it gets completely dark to negotiate with them. We might get shot up if we approach at night."
Harrison shrugged. "Then who's going over? I can't afford to leave my post." It wasn't that he was afraid of death, but as a platoon leader, the company commander could summon them for an impromptu meeting or issue new orders at any time. If the company commander noticed anything suspicious, he might be executed on the spot.
Ashton helplessly raised his shoulders. "Then I'll go. But just the two of us going over might not be appealing to the Germans."
"That's true. Two people are just two bullets' worth." After pondering with a troubled face, Harrison slapped his thigh. "I'll go find Connor later. You talk to the Germans and at least mention that there's a whole platoon willing to come over." Connor was their friend, and this guy hated war more than anyone else. Complaining since he enlisted, he not only grumbled to himself but also had a good way with words, often inciting their comrades. He had been warned by the company commander several times.
"Alright."
At the end of their trench, there was a canal. Ashton, considering himself adept in water, though the water was a bit icy, the distance to the German side wasn't far enough to freeze him to death.
Agreeing that if he successfully reached the German positions, they would fire three red flares as a signal, Ashton pretended to be urgently in need and walked toward the canal when it was completely dark. Since the makeshift toilet was over there, even if he ran over, it wouldn't arouse suspicion.
One hour later.
"... Why are you still here?" Harrison stared dumbfoundedly at Ashton, who was still squatting in the latrine, and asked in a low voice.
Ashton smiled wryly, pursed his lips, and pointed to the two soldiers standing on the diagonal opposite side urinating. "Damn, I did want to leave. I squatted here for an hour, waiting for a moment when there's no one. But damn, one person after another, and I couldn't find a gap." His legs were almost numb from squatting.
Harrison was speechless. "Shit, I just went to the toilet over there. It's been blown to pieces, completely unusable. We can only come here."
"No wonder there was a queue just now."
After the two soldiers finished urinating and left, Harrison looked outside and urged, "No one's here now, hurry up." Ashton gritted his teeth, dragging his already numb legs and stood up. With Harrison's help, he bent over and ran towards the canal.
He ran to the riverside in one breath, quickly took off his clothes, dampened them in the water, and patted himself. Step by step, he walked into the river, starting to swim downstream.
After swimming for an unknown amount of time, he suddenly heard a tumult of German shouts not far away. Soon, the crackling sound of gunfire followed, bullets whizzing towards him. Ashton's legs went weak, almost submerging him in the river. Kicking the water in place, desperately waving his white-soaked undershirt, he shouted at the top of his lungs, "I surrender! I'm here to surrender!"
A beam of searchlight illuminated his direction, scanning a few times before locking onto him. Apparently seeing the white undershirt on his hands, the gunfire ceased, replaced by shouts in German.
Ashton vaguely heard calls for him to swim over. Desperately swimming towards the direction of the light, he soon felt his feet touch the soft riverbank.
Stumbling forward, he continued walking. Before long, he saw several fully armed German soldiers surrounding him.
At exactly nine o'clock in the evening, Lord Gort, who seemed to have aged ten years in an instant, appeared punctually in the underground meeting room.
The atmosphere in the meeting room was extremely oppressive, with everyone silently smoking, wearing gloomy expressions.
Lord Gort glanced around the room, his voice hoarse as he began, "You are all the bravest soldiers. It's my poor command that has trapped you in this encirclement. To prevent a more massive tragedy, I've decided to sacrifice my personal honor and issue this humiliating and tragic order. I hope my decision won't bring shame to my homeland, and I hope it's the right one."
Although Lord Gort didn't explicitly say it, no one sitting here was a fool, and they understood what he was about to say.
Someone immediately stood up to oppose, "Commander-in-Chief, we can still fight on."
"Colonel Montgomery..." Lord Gort sighed, ultimately saying nothing more, waving his hand, signaling the adjutant to continue.
The adjutant picked up the document in front of him and began to read, "After a day of battle, all frontline defensive positions have been lost. If the German offensive remains as fierce tomorrow as it was today, we likely won't hold the second core defense line. As for the third line of defense, it's practically nonexistent and won't provide any effective resistance. The consequence would be that we'll be forced into a very narrow space, squeezed together. One German artillery shell can wipe out a platoon, or even a company of soldiers. Moreover, our remaining ammunition can only withstand one more day of high-intensity combat. The day after tomorrow, we'll only be left with bayonets to confront the German armored units."
"...Colonel Montgomery." Lord Gort opened his mouth, but in the end, he didn't insist further. He wasn't insane, he wouldn't send his soldiers to face the iron tide of the Germans with their flesh and blood.
Seeing no one continuing to object, Lord Gort continued, "I have destined myself to become a clown. You are the last hope of the Empire. You cannot stay here and become captives. The weather is good tonight, and the German Air Force shouldn't harass us. Alright, don't delay any longer. Leave now."
Tonight's weather was extremely unfavorable. The low, overcast sky was filled with dark, thick clouds, and a drizzle was falling. Under such conditions, the German planes wouldn't come to disturb them. The engineers had managed to repair a section of the dock through great effort, allowing some boats to dock.
The group arrived at the port, seeing the dock crowded with wounded soldiers. Among them, even the least injured were missing arms or legs. More lay on stretchers, unable to move. The continuous moans and screams echoed overhead at the dock.
Docked at the port were a large passenger liner and a destroyer.
Soldiers moved the wounded onto the large passenger liner, while the officers boarded the destroyer.