[Titanic] I can't help myself

I couldn't help looking into his dark eyes.He frowned tightly, and an unknown light flickered in his eyes.

"Tell me, baby, why don't you go to a safe war zone? Why do you have to stay there?" He pressed down slowly, held my head, and coaxed me softly, "Tell me."

I blinked, "Carl..."

"Please! Tell me the truth!" His expression was very serious, even sad, "Tell me the truth!"

We faced each other silently, he stared at me intently, the thick and complicated emotions in his eyes made me unable to bear it soon.Finally I closed my eyes first.

He sighed in frustration, then, as if venting his emotions, he bit my lip fiercely, poked his tongue in indiscriminately, and went on a rampage.

"I have nightmares almost every night! Every night!" He growled lowly, pressing his forehead firmly against mine, "I dreamed that you were seriously injured, covered in blood, lying in a tent with a dirty environment , no one takes care of you! I even dreamed of you more than once, dreamed of you..."

He couldn't go on, just closed his eyes and gasped.

"Tell me, baby, why don't you want to go somewhere safe?" he begged. "What are your concerns? Do you know how scared I am of you?"

"I'm very……"

"Don't say you are safe!" he interrupted me, "Think about it, what would you think if I went to the front line? You would stop worrying because I found a temporary safe position in a dangerous environment Is my safety in danger? Are you?"

My lips trembled: "No..."

"Then, tell me, why not let Viscount Stuart transfer you to a safe place?"

Trembling, I reached out and touched his face.I hardly thought about this issue. When Viscount Stewart passed Major General Mosley and told him that he had arranged for me and could transfer me to a safe place at any time, I almost subconsciously refused.But why?I clearly hate that place so much.

"I can't do it..." My throat was choked, and I could only make a whisper-like hiss, "I just couldn't do it...all the people I knew, they were all descendants of nobles, no one, No one chooses to escape... I can't..."

"Why..." He frowned tightly, his expression could almost be regarded as angry, "Are you stupid? Or have you been brainwashed by the hypocritical words of those politicians?"

"This has nothing to do with the so-called patriotism and dedication, I just can't let myself leave calmly!" I finally cried out, my emotions are always so easy to lose control in front of him, "Everyone is bleeding and dying there, They were all low-level officers who took the lead and led the soldiers to charge in the most dangerous places. Some of them were injured during the border battle, but as soon as their injuries recovered, they immediately returned to the front line where the fighting was most intense.

"And I, until now, have been hiding behind them and enjoying protection. And my former classmates, friends, my seniors, those who grew up with me, those who were with me a few months ago People who exchanged dance partners and drank together at the same ball, they all went to and fro in the flames of war without complaint, facing the threat of serious injury and death. Under such circumstances, how do you let me leave there with peace of mind and become The first cowardly deserter!"

"It's not your fault! You don't need to bear the responsibility of the war!" Carl sat up irritably, rubbing his hair indiscriminately, "I beg you to think about me, think about your mother! Put you away Unrealistic dream of heroes! They are them, you are you! And there are many people who seek connections to transfer themselves away! The heir of the Elliott family has been transferred to the logistics! The children of the Polman family have no medical examinations. Passed, did not go to the battlefield at all, and you also know that those two stupid big men are as healthy as two cows! Besides, you are not suitable for the battlefield at all! You can’t become a military strategist, and a war will not be extra because of your participation. Some odds! I beg you not to die in vain!"

I listened to him growling loudly, covering my eyes with my hands.

Those people I know, their broken bodies when they died, their limbs and eyes lost, their numb expressions when lying in the tent of the medical team, they frowned and leaned against the trenches smoking a cigarette, looking at the dusty eyes just now The appearance of the dead comrades lying on the ground in the battle zone after the fierce battle, all of these flashed past my eyes quickly.

In the three months since the war started, I have been safe as if I were still in Acton. What I did the most was commanding soldiers to clean up the battlefield, dragging back the wounded compatriots, or arranging the corpses of the sacrificed soldiers, and organizing a war. Buried after a small memorial service.

The limited role I played at the front made me feel an embarrassing shame when compared with those officers of the same noble family as me.The shame I was suddenly aroused was something I hadn't expected.I thought it was impossible for me to have England's martial gentleman spirit, but under the influence of those students who took the lead around me, some of it remained.

As long as I look at those people, those who brush shoulders with death every day, who have the opportunity to leave but insist on staying, I can't convince myself to hide behind them with peace of mind.Although I can't do anything, it seems to suffer in the same place as them, as if it makes me look less useless.

I sat up and hugged him from behind, put my hands under his armpits, over his chest, and kissed his back.

"I'm sorry." I said softly, "I know this will make you sad, but... please let me be selfish again. Give me enough time to adjust, maybe in a few months I will take the initiative to push Uncle Patrick called me back. Don't be angry, turn around and look at me, I'm leaving tomorrow."

Carl grabbed my hand, turned around slowly to look at me, and finally hugged me in his arms without saying a word.

"Okay, I won't force you." He bit my ear and said, "Quickly figure it out, don't make us worry too much."

I was back in a war zone on the Swiss border.Throughout November and December, we were stuck there, and no one could move forward.Soldiers were sent out to attack every day, some were injured, some died, and the rest came back at night, and I commanded the soldiers who had no mission today to clean up the battlefield, just like going to work routinely.

Every day here is getting more and more boring.Occasionally short-lived victories will be quickly recaptured by the opponent, and our own occasional losses will be counterattacked immediately.It's all in a constant loop, like a hopeless nightmare, with no end to victory in sight.

My mother was worried about my diet at the front line. Almost every day I received packages from her, which contained medicines and a change of personal clothing. There is also coffee, black tea and milk powder.I distributed these among the officers around me, and soon my tent became a common room for everyone.

Everyone huddled together, drank black tea and coffee mixed with milk powder from dirty enamel teacups, or brought a bottle of whiskey sent by their family members, each of them drank it in turn, and then smoked one after another. Smoke, talking about what's happening at home across the channel, the country, the manor, the fox hunting season and the salon of a rich young widow in her mansion in London, as if we were still at home and it's after dinner gentleman's time.

Ten minutes later, everyone put on their hats and left my tent one after another. The moment they stepped out of the tent, they immediately changed from gentle gentlemen to stern and rude soldiers.

In December, the Archbishop of Canterbury proposed a truce during Christmas, so that the soldiers could spend Christmas safely.This proposal received a positive response from Germany.When the news reached the front line, the atmosphere of the entire battlefield immediately became careless. Both offense and defense became lazy. It seemed that everyone's focus was shifted from the battlefield to Christmas.

Soon, there was a steady stream of Christmas cards, thick letters and overstuffed packages from the soldiers' families, including clothes, medicines, cigarettes and food.Most of them received a small Christmas tree the size of a palm, and those with wealthier families got slightly larger Christmas trees. My Christmas tree was as high as an arm, and the youngest son of a duke even received a big Christmas tree as tall as a person.He generously donated the Christmas tree, and finally the tree was placed in an open space and became a public Christmas tree.

At midnight on Christmas Eve, the priest accompanying the army and several soldiers who used to be priests took everyone to the midnight mass. Many people cried bitterly because they missed their families.

On Christmas Day, everyone started giving each other presents, showing each other cards from family members.Gifts are usually not well-prepared gifts, but food and cigarettes sent by one's own family are exchanged, but everyone is still in high spirits.It seems that because I drank too much black tea and coffee before, I received as many cakes and chocolates as there are hills, as well as several bottles of spirits that were obviously taken from the family's treasured wine cellar.

Throughout the day, the trenches were filled with a cheerful and relaxed atmosphere.At night, the surveillance sentry found that the German trench opposite was full of red light. He quickly reported this discovery to us generals who were having dinner in the tent, wondering if the Germans had any conspiracy.

This speculation immediately tensed all of us, and a lieutenant general proposed to open fire.But this proposal was immediately rejected by the general.

"Possibly a hoax," he told the Watch Sentinels. "Don't open fire. Open fire during the Christmas truce will get us accused. But be vigilant and watch them closely."

The senior military officers personally came to the surveillance point where the sentries were monitored, holding up binoculars to carefully identify the flames.But soon, we heard Christmas carols coming from the German trenches, the singing was mixed with a lot of laughter, they dragged a long tune, there were several high and low tones in a song, chaotic mix together.

"Frohe Weihen (Merry Christmas)!" shouted a German, followed by another in English with a thick German accent, "British! Merry Christmas!"

Joy spread through everyone at once, and the next moment we heard one of our soldiers shout, "Merry Christmas to you too!"

Immediately afterwards, the German soldiers on the opposite side climbed up the low wall of the trench. They raised their hats above their heads and waved them in circles, screaming and whistling at us, like a group of restless teenagers just released from the boys' school. Saw a beautiful woman on the street.

Our soldiers were not to be outdone, and twice as many soldiers climbed up the low wall, imitating their appearance and whistling to drown out their voices.So they also increased their firepower.At the end, almost all the soldiers competed like hooligans on the low wall of the trench, whistling and booing like mountains and seas.

"Come here!" The German soldiers on the opposite side yelled, "Come and see us, we will treat you to a drink!"

"Come to us!" our soldier shouted. "Sandwiches! We have cider!"

There was a lot of noise, not knowing who or where it started, when suddenly the sound of Christmas carols came.The singing became louder and louder, and more and more people joined in the singing.

Because of the distance, it takes a certain amount of time for the sound to come through. When I listened to it here, this Christmas carol was divided into several parts, and the songs that were not in sync at all merged together. The tune was chaotic, but it was incomparably harmonious. .

The German soldiers on the opposite side raised the flames and swayed them to the beat. Only then did I realize that the flames were all small Christmas trees decorated with candles. Our people lit the candles and swayed with them.The chaotic rhythm quickly became unified with the candlelight swinging from side to side.Christmas carols were sung over and over again until midnight, when everyone cheered and stopped singing and went back to rest.

The next day, both sides sent representatives to negotiate in the no man's land between each other's positions.The final result we reached was that until New Year's Day, we would not initiate fire.We signed a simple agreement. The generals of both sides came to the uninhabited area and shook hands with the generals of the other side for a short ceasefire.

Soldiers crawled out of the trenches to greet each other's soldiers and Merry Christmas.How strange, a few days ago we were still fighting to the death, but now we gather together to talk and laugh, exchange cigarettes, alcohol and food sent by family members, and show each other photos of our relatives and friends.

Together we held a formal burial for the fallen the next day.The remains of those who had not yet had time to bury were carried to the uninhabited area and neatly placed together.The generals of both sides, and the officers of the squads where the fallen soldiers belonged, all delivered speeches, expressing their memory and gratitude to the soldiers who died in battle.We prayed for them together, sang hymns, and the national anthems of both countries.

After the funeral, a colonel from Germany came up and asked us in barely understandable English if we could organize a football match.This proposal was immediately adopted, and that afternoon, we held a football match in no-man's land.The football was made by a British soldier who was originally a craftsman. It is very simple, and because the center of gravity is a bit off, it is not very comfortable to play. However, this football received a warm welcome, and everyone asked him to make a few more.So from Christmas to New Year's Day, we played countless football games in the wide no-man's land between the two positions, and even a few games, several generals also participated in it.Everyone wins and loses, and no one has any conflicts because of this.

By the end, we tallied the number of goals scored in all games in all venues, leading the German team with a score of 89 to 81.So a German general who lost to us two large boxes of frankfurters and Bavarian wurst joked that he had lost to us almost all the meat in their kitchens.So for dinner on New Year's Day, our army ate soup made of these sausages.

The happy and relaxed truce time is over, and the next day, we have become undead enemies again. This no-man's land, which hosted a few football matches with laughter yesterday, is once again full of killing and blood, and laughed yesterday. The people hooking shoulders and shoulders, once again fell into chaotic mutual killing today.It's such a huge difference that it almost seems to me that the Christmas truce is nothing more than a spooky dream.But in any case, the war is still going on, and I still can't see the end of the victory.

The author has something to say: locked another chapter, speechless.

The administrator still ignores my background twitching. . .