Spallation

　　We lost that battle.

　　Later, the squad leader's notebook added a few more names, and that was because several comrades died on the way to the charge, and even the bodies were not recovered, and the higher authorities sent a few more recruits into our squad, they seem to be younger than me, did they volunteer? Or is it already the Motherland that even minors are going to be sent to the battlefield? I do not know.

　　But the squad leader is still the old squad leader, and this time he did not die and gave me the task of leading recruits, because he said that I was a "new veteran" or an "old recruit"? I don't remember exactly. In short, he said that I had a common language with this group of recruits.

　　To be honest, I don't want to take them, because from them I can see the shadow of my past, brave and cowardly.

　　But no way, other people who have really been on the battlefield have long been unable to find a figure. I shook my head and could only take the group of soldiers to training. I didn't plan to take them to physical training or anything, but took them to the field hospital and the place where the corpses were disposed of next to the field hospital, listening to the screams of the wounded soldiers in the field hospital, smelling the burning smell of burning corpses, they were as paralyzed as I was, and some even vomited directly.

　　In fact, my legs are weak, after all, I am also a recruit, but I have to endure it.

　　I did this just so that when they were really exposed to the war, it wouldn't be like they are now. But this didn't seem to be of much use, because they were still lying on the ground in fear when they attacked again, and yes, the fear of death could not be overcome by this.

　　There is bad news and good news for this attack, the good news is that the old squad leader is not dead, and I am not dead. The bad news was that we failed again, and the troops still failed to break through the defenses on the periphery of Paris.

　　I'm starting to wonder if we can win? I asked the squad leader, who said to me, "Yes, you see, Paris is in front of us!" "Yes, Paris is in front of you, but why can't it be broken?

　　This situation lasted until August, when our last all-out offensive ended in failure and we were ordered to retreat.

　　Before retreating, I oversaw the squad leader standing on a small slope looking in the direction of Paris, we are only 37 kilometers from Paris, and the city in the distance is already looming, but it seems to be separated from the sky. Chinese There's an idiom, what's it called? Oh, the end of the world, I think that's how it describes the present.

　　The squad leader just looked at Paris quietly, and for a moment I thought he was dead, but he was alive.

　　After a few days, I confirmed that the squad leader was dead, because I never saw the optimistic squad leader who was happy all day, and now he has never shown that smile or said a word.

　　No matter how we hit him or scold him, he was silent, just eating and in a daze every day.

　　We are extremely afraid, afraid that the squad leader will just leave, he is a hero, he is a hero who has participated in most of the major battles in the war and killed countless enemies, we thought that he would sacrifice, thought about the glory of his walking, thought about him and the enemy dying together, but we never thought that the squad leader would "sacrifice" like this.

　　Surrendered, we surrendered, and when the news came from the rear, all the soldiers first laughed and thought it was a cold joke, but when the company commander confirmed the authenticity of this order with us, everyone present was silent, although it meant that we no longer had to face death and no longer worry about it.

　　A day later, a group of French soldiers came to our company station, they came to receive our surrender, and we lost, albeit at the group of greedy and death-fearing officials behind.

　　The troops lined up for the last time to hand over their weapons to the Frenchman who had been beaten by us, and looking at their arrogance I wanted to slit his throat with a bayonet.

　　Suddenly the shoulders of the squad leader next to him moved, he looked up in one direction, and I followed his gaze to see that a French soldier was tearing off our flag from the flagpole and stepping on his feet fiercely, acting so recklessly.

　　The fist of the squad leader next to me gradually clenched, and I felt that the squad leader had returned.

　　He roared and rushed towards the French soldier, the gun rang out, the squad leader stopped, he slowly turned around, blood gushed from his mouth, red piercing, like I saw the day I first went to the battlefield, really annoying.

　　The comrades next to him slowly reddened their eyes, and also let out the same roar as the squad leader, one, two... Gunshots rang out, and people continued to stop on the charge like squad leaders, but there were more people behind him.

　　I rushed up and picked up the squad leader from the ground, he was already dead, this time he was really dead.

　　He was holding a notebook in his hand, and I opened the one he was clasped with, the one with our names on it. Tears welled up in my eyes, this fool, he has no face to meet his former comrades-in-arms, in fact, he has no skills, and he is only the head of the shift because he is left alone in his previous class.

　　The book was almost broken by his grip, and it was also stained red by his blood.

　　Before retiring from the battlefield, there were already 39 names marked with crosses representing death, I opened the book with trembling hands, found the name of the squad leader on the front page, drew him an ugly cross, he was finally like his brothers, he was the 40th.

　　I put away the book, the battle was over, we were bare-handed, this battle doomed us from the very beginning, the entire company of comrades died close to 1/3, the company commander also died, but we also won, our flag was robbed out.

　　I opened the notebook I had just put away, drew eight crosses in front of the only nine names left without forks, and our squad was the first to charge with the squad leader, and the casualties were the heaviest, leaving me in the entire squad.

　　Fast forward a few months, and when I returned home, I refused the invitation of the F-FDTL to stay in my post and instead visited the families of the other 48 people in the book, either poor or rich, but all of them had one thing in common, they were all missing a piece.

　　I didn't dare to stay at their house any longer, so I put down my gifts and ran away every time I visited.

　　I was afraid that they would ask me why I was where I was when their loved ones died.

　　After the war, Germany was so badly in recession that many businesses were destroyed, and I couldn't find a job, but I didn't dare to go home, and I even asked my comrades in my hometown to tell my family that I had died in the war.

　　I could only beg on the street, as a post-war veteran.

　　I thought that I would spend my life like this, as atonement, atonement for the sins of my life.

　　Until one day, a young man stood in front of me, I thought he was the one who gave me charity, but he just stood there, I was a little impatient, glaring at him, but he was not afraid of my eyes, he was the same as me, there was a bloody breath on his body.

　　"Stand up, soldier." He ordered me.

　　I pretended not to hear, why did he order me?

　　"Stand up! Soldier! He yelled at me.

　　I watched him lose his mind, and at the moment he yelled at me, I seemed to see the shadow of the squad leader, and he also yelled at me, telling me that Paris was ahead!

　　I subconsciously stood up straight and stood up in the most standard military posture that I had when I first met the squad leader.

　　"My name is Leon and I am a major general in the Wehrmacht. You remember to me, even if it was once, you can't forget that you were a soldier! German soldiers never kneel! He reprimanded me loudly.

　　I lowered my head in shame, but I was shocked that this general was so young!

　　He took a handful of notes out of his pocket, stuffed them in my hand, and turned away.

　　I paused, then quickly caught up with him, shoved the money back into his hand, and said seriously: "Mr. Major General, I can't ask for it." I figured it out, the German soldiers would not accept handouts either! "

　　A hint of surprise flashed in his eyes, then he smiled and asked me, "What's your name?" "

　　"Ludwig Schröder!" I answered out loud.

　　"You don't want to accept handouts, so what do you want?" He asked me.

　　"I want to pick up the gun again!" I replied firmly. Hearing this, he frowned, looked directly at me and said: "It's peacetime, guns won't be used to kill enemies anymore, they will make you dirty, have you thought about it?" "

　　I replied without hesitation: "After thinking about it, what you just said woke me up, the German soldiers will not kneel and beg, we will only earn what we want with guns." I hesitated for a moment and continued, "I'm ready to dirty myself!" "

　　He smiled and turned to walk forward, knowing that he had promised to let me join him, and I quickly followed.

　　Squad leader, I'm on the battlefield again!