Chapter 169 Departure

"20 liters, 20 liters... Why isn't it 200 liters!"

As Lynn watched his soldiers preparing their equipment, loading scattered bullets into empty magazines, and stowing hand grenades in dedicated pouches or hanging them from their waists, he paced back and forth, feeling frustrated. If it weren't for the unfortunate Soviet artillery bombardment that hit the supply truck, everything would have been perfect. Now, the soldiers from the "Nordic" Division had delivered 20 liters of gasoline as promised. However, considering the engine displacement (a four-cylinder air-cooled gasoline engine) and the actual load, they could only go about 200 kilometers at most. And the actual journey couldn't be measured by road distance alone. To avoid the Soviet blockade and break out, detouring and driving through the fields would be inevitable.

As night fell, the sounds of artillery and explosions erupted outside, with hundreds of shells raining down, shaking the entire city of Berlin. To prevent any last-minute mishaps, Lynn had parked the VW82 military bucket car directly under the Army Library building. It seemed like the Soviets were determined to wipe out the city's buildings and German positions from the face of the earth. Fortunately, casualties were minimized during the subsequent attacks, but this round of shelling was particularly intense and prolonged. Lynn kept checking his watch. The bombardment that began at 5:10 in the afternoon lasted until 8 in the evening.

After eating bread and filling their canteens with water, the soldiers were ready to sit in the bucket car at any moment. Following Lynn's individual communication, Private Frederick firmly joined their plan, bringing the total number of passengers in the car to seven. In terms of weapons and equipment, since they couldn't obtain new batteries, Lynn decided to discard the old, power-depleted, and heavy batteries. He removed the infrared searchlight, infrared scope, and connecting wires from the assault rifles and carried them along. The rest of the soldiers, except for Noah using an 88mm anti-tank rocket launcher and Tanze using a Mauser sniper rifle, were now equipped with MP44 assault rifles.

The rolling thunder of artillery gradually subsided. Lynn climbed to the top floor of the Army Library one last time and observed the situation in the entire city with the binoculars that Laurenz Bach had given him. The flashing fires to the east and north of the city and the billowing smoke illuminated by the flames were most intense. The fighting had spread to the Spree River that cut through the city—the last bridge spanning the river had collapsed, and only the bent bridge structure could be seen lifelessly lying in the river. The artillery barrage intermittently stirred mushroom-shaped water columns on the river surface, and numerous dark red dots crisscrossed on the river surface. With the help of the artillery's light, floating objects moving towards the city center could still be vaguely seen on the river surface.

The last and most brutal battle was about to begin... Subconsciously, Lynn took out the thick journal from his pocket and lightly rubbed it with his fingers. With the improvement of his language and reading skills, he could now understand the German written inside. The psychological world of a young volunteer soldier gradually unfolded before his eyes. If he were to describe Lynn Gargo's character in the simplest terms, Lynn felt "sincere, gentle, and imaginative" were the most appropriate: he was not good at hiding his inner thoughts, which earned him precious camaraderie but also plunged him into contradictions and distress about reality; he was originally gentle by nature, and killing was simply an unforgivable sin for him, yet he had to shoot his gun time and time again on the battlefield, often having nightmares, and even waking up several times in fright to write down the continuation of the day's journal entry; like many young people of his time, he fervently admired the leader who vowed to lead the Aryan race to the top of the world, supporting every thought of him wholeheartedly, which enabled him to overcome the fear in his heart and get involved in the largest-scale slaughter in human history.

The dim light made it impossible to discern the handwriting in the journal, but Lynn still remembered many words related to family affection written inside. Especially on the last page, there were two sentences written in mud-stained handwriting: "Mom, I miss you! Mom, I want to go home!"

Mom... Lynn's mind immediately conjured up the kind and gentle face, although memories from the past still appeared in dreams and fragments, with the passage of time, he felt that he and his world were getting farther and farther away, but one thing was certain, the two could never be completely severed.

Because the soul is irreplaceable.

With a deep sigh, Lynn put the journal back into the pocket of his coat and the binoculars into the left pocket, then decisively turned away from the window and walked down the spiral staircase step by step to the ground floor, looking up to see familiar and comforting faces, which instantly eased his mind.

"Brothers, let's go!"

The soldiers quickly boarded the vehicle, with Lynn among them, making a total of seven people along with their equipment, weighing nearly half a ton, causing the chassis of the vehicle to visibly sink. Despite its small and seemingly fragile appearance, this military bucket car, originally designed as a civilian vehicle, was remarkably sturdy and durable. After years of testing in the harsh cold of Soviet Russia and the scorching heat and sandstorms of North Africa, it had proven itself capable of handling most military tasks.

Lynn skillfully started the car, glanced at the fuel gauge, which still hovered near the bottom line. He couldn't help but feel a bit resigned and anxious. However, considering that if their group ran out of fuel and had to abandon the vehicle, they would still be lucky, he found some solace. As for the road ahead, walking or making further plans wasn't out of the question.

Pressing down on the accelerator smoothly, turning the steering wheel steadily, Lynn smoothly drove out of the ground floor of the Army Library, under the watchful eyes of the Waffen-SS soldiers tasked with guarding the building, and onto the main street. The military truck that had come to transport supplies was now reduced to a charred wreck. Across from it, soldiers from the "Nordic" division were reinforcing damaged defensive fortifications. Lynn spotted Lieutenant Letz in the distance. If it weren't for this terrible war, he might have become a successful businessman. Thinking that this might be their last meeting, he raised his right hand, and the lieutenant waved back.

About a kilometer westward, they reached the Brandenburg Gate, which had clearly received intentional "attention" from the Soviet forces. The ground was pockmarked with craters, and although the massive gatehouse still stood, its columns were likely riddled with craters of varying depths and sizes. On the right side of the position, an flak88 gun had been directly hit by a shell, leaving it shattered and destroyed. Several gunners returning from a concealed trench stood nearby, helplessly looking at it.

After passing Paris Square, Lynn bypassed the Brandenburg Gate and headed westward through the Pariser Platz onto the Charlottenburg Street. Following it would lead them westward out of the city, but like most other routes out of Berlin, it had been blocked by the Soviet forces. The fighting had reached the vicinity of the famous Siegessäule and Bellevue Palace. After driving for another two or three kilometers, Lynn turned right onto Siegesallee — without access to current city defense diagrams, he relied solely on an old Berlin tourist map and what he had observed from the vantage point of the Army Library to plan their evacuation route.

Driving south along the straight Siegesallee, Lynn and his group were soon stopped by sentries posted along the street, as anticipated. Using the pretext of being on a combat mission for the "11th Night Combat Detachment," they had enough authority to pass through routine checks or symbolic verifications within Berlin. However, on Siegesallee, the only real obstacles were the roads and vehicles damaged by Soviet artillery. Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at a major intersection where five roads met, with the southern direction leading to Berlin's embassy district, where the embassies of countries such as the Soviet Union and Japan were located. However, with the Soviet army at the gates, most diplomats and their families had already evacuated, and many courtyards and buildings had been turned into fortifications by the German army. Here, stern military policemen blocked Lynn and his group's path, demanding to see documents proving their mission. With no other choice, Lynn mentioned the name of General Kessler, the commander of the city's defense headquarters. Surprisingly, the diligent military policeman returned to his post to call the headquarters for verification, and even more surprisingly, he managed to get through despite the chaotic situation. Fortunately, General Kessler was temporarily away, but his deputy, the lieutenant who had helped Lynn record casualty lists, had a favorable impression of the 11th Night Combat Detachment, thus confirming their existence and vaguely requesting the military police to verify their identities.

Lynn's documents were authentic, but the persistent military police were in a dilemma. Just then, several motorcycle-mounted military policemen arrived. They came speeding from the northeast, the direction leading to Wilhelmstraße. One of them stopped in front of the checkpoint, the engine of his BMW motorcycle rumbling.

"No vehicles allowed to pass!" he shouted loudly, and his fellow military policemen who arrived simultaneously also stopped at the surrounding intersections, relaying the sudden but unquestionable order to the sentries there.

Caught off guard by this unexpected situation, Lynn hesitated between taking a detour or waiting. Seeing the military policeman who had stopped him talking to his motorcycle-riding companion, Lynn pushed open the car door and walked straight over to them. He addressed the military policeman on the motorcycle, "Hey, officer, listen, I'm with the 11th Night Combat Detachment directly under the City Defense Headquarters, on an important mission. Could you possibly let us..."

"No!" the military policeman, wearing windproof goggles around his neck, rudely interrupted Lynn before he could finish speaking. "Don't ask so many questions. You'll be cleared soon enough!"

At his words, Lynn's first thought was that someone important must be passing through here. But with artillery fire raging throughout Berlin, who would be out on patrol at this time? Could it be... those high-ranking figures who left before Berlin fell?

At the thought, Lynn's heart skipped a beat. When the Führer committed suicide and Berlin fell, although stalwarts like Goebbels chose to die with their families, many real power figures of the Third Reich were seeking their own escape routes. If Lynn had indeed encountered such a situation, then following the evacuation led by senior officials who understood the situation better and had stronger capabilities might offer a better chance to leave Berlin — after all, it was only April 27th, four days before the final fall of Berlin.

Before long, a loud rumbling noise indeed came from the northeast. Turning his head, Lynn saw an endless column of armored vehicles appearing on the horizon. Leading them was a silhouette unmistakably that of a Panther tank. As it drew closer, Lynn noticed the large infrared searchlight and night vision device mounted on its turret — this was none other than the "Night Panther," which had a rare record of destroying an entire Allied tank platoon on the Western Front. In the battle of Oranienburg, Lynn had already witnessed its formidable combat power in night battles!