Battle of the Rhine

Tim and his German chick are having a hot fight and cuddling with no qualms.In order to feed the family of German girls, Tim often "robbed" the chocolates of his fellow robes—"It's cheap for you to keep it, those Nazis!" He snatched two small compartments from Michael's chocolates, "Why? Why don't you lend it to me? Then I can get a wife."

"I said, man," Michael said, wrapping the rest of the chocolate in foil, "are you serious?"

"Of course, buddy," Tim opened his mouth, showing some crooked teeth, "just like me, if in America, how can there be a girl like me?"

"He doesn't quite understand." One-third of "Big Girl"'s chocolate was robbed, "That German woman is not for love, but for bread and sugar."

"Believe me, most people don't marry for love." Michael said in the tone of someone who had experienced it. "Big girl" shrugged, "I'm not married, and it's useless to scare me, Mike."

"I'm here to tell you a truth of life, lest you have a sudden whim and try the taste of marriage someday."

"People who live to be a hundred years old don't get married, but I want to live to be a hundred and one years old."

"It is estimated that I can only live to 35."

"Oh, come on." "Big Girl" scowled, "Don't be a fucking bullshit, Mike—come on, you were just bullshitting."

People on the battlefield are somewhat taboo.Michael stretched out his hands to the sky, murmured a prayer, and finally managed to retract those words.

"We all have to live to be one hundred and one years old." "Big girl" said seriously, "or one hundred and two years old. Anyway... there is no harm in living a few more years, maybe you can see miracles happen, such as , Germany became a good country, the Soviet Union and the United States became good partners, wearing a pair of trousers."

"That's kind of hard." Michael said with a smile.

The more interesting thing about fighting is that there are commissaries in the army.Michael stood in line for a quarter of an hour and bought a box of shoe polish, two pairs of socks, and new laces. "Want some biscuits?" called Vincent Yates. "Smoke?"

"Thanks." Michael waved his hand, carrying his harvest, strolling along the path.The evening sky was bright and clean, and a few birds fluttered towards the mountain.The captives sat at the foot of the hill and drank their soup in silence.Perhaps it was to make a certain gesture, the food given to them in the past two days was significantly more abundant, and water was also provided to wash their bodies.Michael spotted Carl Quincy at a glance. He must have washed himself, his hair gleaming in the setting sun.Michael was somehow reminded of the smell of hot water and soap, the kind of bad soap that was surprisingly strong and, in Mary's words, "could kill a cow."

But Michael liked the soapy smell.He scrubbed his skin vigorously with that soap every day after his work on the farm.The water was hot from the sun, and he could smell essence, mud, hay...

Michael turned around and left in a hurry.

Tim came back at night and kept humming a ditty:

"Long way to Diporelli,

There is still a long way to go.

Long way to Diporelli,

Go find my most beloved girl! "

"Isn't your beloved girl right beside you?" Jack lit a cigarette, "what's the matter, where are you going to find your girl again?"

"Long way to Diporelli,

There is still a long way to go.

Long way to Diporelli,

Go find my most beloved girl! "

Singing is not annoying, but Tim can only sing these two lines over and over again.Soon, like a buzzing fly, he was coaxed here and then there.Finally, he sat down next to Michael and sang loudly, "It's a long way to Diporelli, but my heart has already flown there!" It was a stop to the noisy night.

Everything was right and nothing was right, that was how Michael felt about February 1945.Everyone singing "The Long Road to Diporelli" in unison in the sun is his clearest memory of that time.Not only the American soldiers liked this song, but also the Germans.God knows what happened.

"Is it troublesome to be married?" Tim suddenly grabbed Michael that day, "Dude, Mike, tell me the truth—what's it like to be married?"

Michael put on his new socks, he had no shortage of socks at all, and buying those two new pairs was a real waste. "Married? First, you have to buy a pair of rings."

"I know it, everybody knows it," said Tim irritably. "Ring, ring, well, ring."

"Then... you have to get a house."

"Kids know I've got to fucking build a house! My dad promised to lend me money to build a house - and then? I mean, what's it like to be married, how it feels!"

"I don't feel much." Michael said matter-of-factly, "There are two people on the bed, you have a pillow, and she has a pillow. Eat breakfast, work, have lunch, take a nap, work again, call it a day, have dinner...then go to sleep."

"sleep?"

"What else do you want?"

"I thought it would be more fun to get married," Tim said, blushing so that the freckles on the tip of Tim's nose seemed to glow, "I thought—"

"That's a movie, that's all about getting married. It's not much different from a person." Michael raised his gun, "Are you planning to get married?"

"I'm thinking... thinking about it," Tim said. "I'm going to write to my dad and bring Uta back."

"Good luck," Michael said. "Keep it up."

During this time, Michael noticed that Quincy was a little more emotional than before.He paid special attention to this young second lieutenant, perhaps because his blond hair was too conspicuous.Michael gave Quincy a new pair of socks as a reward for the work.Quincy and another prisoner were responsible for arranging the crucifixes from the tomb, and he did it with great care.

"Long way to Diporelli,

There is still a long way to go.

Long way to Diporelli,

Go find my most beloved girl! "

Basking in the sun, Michael hummed a song.Damn it, Tim must have caught it.He might be singing too loudly unconsciously. Quincy, who was leveling the cemetery with a simple wooden rake, raised his head and blinked his blue eyes.

"Long way to Diporelli,

There is still a long way to go. "

Michael pretends to be calm, it's no big deal, no one can sing this song. "Long way to Diporelli, to find my most beloved girl!" He paced back and forth humming a song, the muddy ground in Europe smelled like moss, he held a gun, "... to find me Most beloved girl."

Quincy lowered his head and continued to rake the ground beneath his feet.The spring sun cast a halo on everything, Michael saw the birds flying over the green treetops, and the white flowers swaying in the wind... The world was silent, he held his breath, and saw Quincy hanging his head, The chin is fair, and the corners of the mouth are slightly raised.