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"German Honor"

As a World War II enthusiast, you may admire the professional qualities of the German army, envy the abundant resources of the American forces, and respect the tenacious fighting spirit of the Soviet army. If you could personally experience the military glory of the early German war, or transform into an Allied soldier to satisfy your thrilling World War II addiction in the later stages of the war, it would certainly be exhilarating. However, if your soul were to inhabit the body of a volunteer soldier in the "Nordland" division of the German army during the final stages of the war... Unfortunately, Lynn, who had just graduated from university, is such an unlucky fellow. He is thrown into a battle for survival from the moment he steps onto the scene, honing his skills in desperate combat, gradually evolving from a rookie to an elite. However, no matter how hard he tries...

sckyh · 軍事
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197 Chs

Chapter 70: Overnight Stay

Cooking is something quite unfamiliar and confusing for a considerable number of male compatriots. The kitchen is also a place these gentlemen tend to avoid. Lynn didn't really like the smell of cooking oil either, but when he graduated and entered society, he found himself in an environment that wasn't very favorable for men: the gender ratio for marriage was severely imbalanced, housing prices were soaring, those with wealth but lacking virtue were still carefree, and those without wealth or virtue hoped to find a wife who excelled both internally and externally, which was as risky as buying a lottery ticket. So, under his mother's intense training, Lynn became a modern youth who could stew soup, stir-fry vegetables, and cook rice, all before he had the chance to find a job. However, before he could find employment, he inexplicably crossed over to this war-torn era.

The day after being ordered to cover the retreat of civilians to Königsberg, as dusk approached, Lynn and Private Carl, who was carrying the pot, found an abandoned farmhouse. There were no ready-made stoves or fireplaces, only the rough hands of men. The two gathered firewood, boiled water, and cooked soup, sparing the old goat beard, the young widow, and little Karla from any physical labor.

Unable to resist Carl's encouragement, and also troubled by his own thoughts, Lynn took on the role of head chef for such a large pot for the first time in his life. Western and Chinese cuisine, originally two distinct dietary cultures separated by thousands of miles, were reduced to the most basic principles in the harsh conditions of the battlefield: whatever was cooked could be eaten, could fill the stomach, and that was all that mattered.

Salt was a bit scarce, the soup was a bit thin, and refugees passing by continuously came to ask for food, forcing Lynn to repeatedly add water to the pot, resulting in a taste that could be imagined. However, when the refugees from Horgen held up the hot soup, not a single person showed any signs of dissatisfaction. According to the number of people at noon, Lynn divided the dinner bread into fifty-two portions, first come, first served. From noon until dusk, which was about four or five hours, the line of civilians retreating had stretched out a long distance. The first group arrived at nightfall, ate their fill, and then continued on their way, while the last few pieces of bread were distributed to soldiers and civilians in the proper amounts, the moon already climbing above the treetops.

"All right, we'll arrive in Königsberg tomorrow morning, and we don't need to worry about everyone's bellies anymore!"

Private Carl, packing up his large black pot, said to Lynn with a relieved tone.

Lynn intended to say "as long as everyone arrives safely," but when he remembered the civilians who unfortunately died in the Soviet air raid that morning, he closed his mouth again. Even if the fifty-two people who had dinner could arrive at their destination safely, the casualty rate along this road was still around thirty percent, not extremely terrible, but thinking about those originally lively faces, Lynn always felt a sense of regret.

After packing up, seeing that Lynn still wasn't speaking, Carl asked word by word, "Should we catch up with the group or stay here for the night?"

"Huh?"

Lynn turned to look at the old goat beard and the mother and daughter. They had been sitting idly for more than two hours after dinner, and they should have been doing some post-meal exercise. However, thinking about the unusually cold night in winter, he hesitated again—this abandoned farmhouse, although crude, at least had two walls that could block the wind, and could even keep a pile of less conspicuous charcoal for warmth.

Lynn explained his thoughts to the old goat beard in English, who nodded and then relayed them to Carl in German.

Before Carl could respond, Lynn said to the young widow in English, "It'll be warmer to stay here tonight!"

The young widow looked down at Karla, who was squatting on the side drawing with twigs. Although the child's energy was still good, her resistance was not as good as that of an adult. Sleeping in the cold wind was inevitably prone to catching a cold, and with a shortage of doctors and medicine during the war, if not treated in time, it could easily lead to serious illnesses like pneumonia.

After a moment's thought, Carl said, "Okay! I agree to stay here for the night! Lynn, we'll take turns keeping watch!"

Lynn naturally agreed.

The last group of four civilians and two National Defense soldiers had left a few minutes ago, leaving only the four adults and one child in the farmhouse. Since the decision was made, Lynn added some dry branches to the weakening fire in the stove, then chose a dry corner near the wall to lay down his assault rifle and the young widow's luggage, and asked the old goat beard and the mother and daughter to rest. After taking care of these things, Lynn got up and prepared to find some relatively dry straw and hay in the collapsed stable next to the farmhouse. Little Karla insisted on following "Daddy" persistently, and the young widow looked up at Lynn and said, "I'll come and help too!"

Lynn didn't think much about it and picked up little Karla, walking out with the young widow following closely behind. It wasn't very late yet, and the bright moonlight illuminated the calm countryside. Whether it was too far away or the Soviet army had exhausted too much in the previous few attacks, Lynn hadn't heard any gunfire from the direction of the river defense line since lunchtime.

"How old are you this year?" the young widow suddenly asked.

His soldier's ID card stated his birth year as 1924, so Lynn replied, "21."

"Oh, so young!" the young widow replied softly.

"What about you?" Lynn realized he had been somewhat impolite after saying this, and hastily added, "Sorry, I shouldn't have asked."

"It's okay!" the young widow replied politely, and indeed didn't answer the previous question.

"Your husband..." Lynn paused, then switched to English for the rest of his sentence, "Was he in the army or air force?"

"He was a pilot, a fighter pilot," the young widow replied, her tone not sounding particularly proud.

"Handsome!" Lynn said, "I also wanted to be a fighter pilot when I was young!"

"You men are born fighters, you like to engage in dangerous professions regardless of the consequences!" The young widow's words carried a hint of resentment.

"Um..." Lynn sensed the discomfort and didn't want to sour the atmosphere, so he quickly changed the subject, saying, "Where is your hometown?"

"Austria!" the young widow said, "Perhaps I should have listened to advice and returned to Austria with Karla earlier."

"But then we wouldn't see Daddy anymore!" Little Karla suddenly interjected between the adults' conversation.

The young widow fell silent, and Lynn didn't turn back to see her expression, because he knew that her delicate face must be filled with sorrow.

"Hehe, Karla is right, we won't be able to see Daddy if we go to Austria." Lynn rarely spoke German so fluently—he mainly imitated the slow and clear pronunciation of the little teacher Karla just now.

"Daddy won't leave us again, right?" Little Karla asked, worried.

Knowing that Königsberg was

 the place of farewell, Lynn couldn't help but tell a lie.

"Daddy won't go anywhere, he'll stay with you and Mommy."

Little Karla snuggled happily in Lynn's arms, repeatedly saying "Daddy is so good" several times.

The collapsed stable was covered with a lot of snow, and it took a lot of effort for Lynn to fetch some straw from underneath during cooking. However, now all he needed to do was to push up the round logs, and the young widow could easily pull out the straw and feed for the horses underneath. After that, the two of them each carried a large bundle, and little Karla obediently tugged at her mother's sleeve, silently returning to the farmhouse.

"Oh, you're back so soon!"

Private Carl was comfortably leaning against the corner under the wooden stairs, which had collapsed completely.

Ignoring this comment, Lynn spread a layer of straw and hay on the ground, which was much more comfortable than sleeping directly on the floor.

Seeing that there was only enough straw and hay to make a "single bed," Lynn said, "I'll go get some more!"

As if rehearsed in advance, the young widow followed suit, saying, "I'll help!"

Little Karla had just climbed onto the straw bed and also shouted that she wanted to go. But out of pure care, Lynn smiled at her and said, "We'll be back soon, Karla, will you take care of Grandpa?"

Although the little girl was somewhat reluctant, seeing that no one else was speaking, she could only look at Lynn with big eyes and said, "Daddy, come back soon!"

"Soon!" Lynn smiled naturally, not noticing the mischievous smile on the guy accustomed to carrying the pot in the corner.