Battle of the Rhine

During that time Michael felt that he was in an "unusual state"-early in the morning, he shaved in front of the basin, leaving a few scrapes on his chin absent-mindedly.Tim noticed the streaks of blood and teased, "What's the matter, man, did you miss Mary?"

"I'm a Christian." Michael answered irrelevantly.

"I fucking know you're a Christian, and I've been to church... Well, I can sing hymns! Listen!" The motherland has its own destiny, victory and peace are in sight. Build the country, protect the homeland, thank God's strength--'"

"You idiot," "Big Girl" was dipping bread in jam and spat in distaste, "This is the fucking national anthem!"

"Oh, I said, why is it a little familiar, too familiar." Tim didn't care, "I also know a song: 'God bless the king—'"

"That's the Brit national anthem," said Big Girl. "I'm sick of it. You can't hear 'God' in the words and think it's a hymn."

"It's pretty good," Tim said, "I think it's better than our national anthem."

"Then go and be an Englishman!"

"I'm considering—"

On the west side of the Rhine, go west, continue west, across the Elbe River, the city of Berlin is full of artillery fire.Soviet troops under Zhukov's command are fighting to the death with the last defenders of the German Third Reich. "We can't," Tim shook his head, his flaxen hair curled fluffy in the wind after he had finally washed it, "it's still the Bolsheviks, I guess, if we fight them, we'll lose our pants." no."

Michael sat on a dirt slope with swaying green grass, smoking a cigarette.In the blue sky, soft and white clouds moved slowly.Who would have thought that in such a beautiful place, at such a pleasant time, shells would fly, tearing people to pieces and razing cities to the ground. "Don't fight any more," he said. "I don't want to fight any more."

"No one likes war." Tim rubbed his hair, and the clean hair seemed to make him uncomfortable. "As soon as the war is over, you will be discharged from the army?"

"Well," Michael lit the third cigarette, "I'm going back to raise my cows... However, I suddenly feel that going to school is not bad, I want to learn some technology."

"Learn some technology, what to learn?"

"Fixing cars, working with lathes, assembling airplanes? I see Mary's having a hard time."

"You should think about having a baby," Tim lay down, grabbing a few blades of grass, "have four or five, boys and girls, running around the yard..."

"You're right." Michael exhaled in frustration, "I've been out of my mind lately—maybe the war has dragged on for too long."

When you are in war, you always feel that the war is endless and hopelessly long.Tomorrow never seemed to come, and in the night, flares tailed up into the sky, bullets whizzed overhead, singed hair.One carelessness can cost a leg or even life.Michael imagined the day when the war ended: he would buy a bottle of gin and drink it hard until the last drop.Then he danced, with Mary, with old neighbor Michelle, with Tim, with "Big Girl," with everyone he knew or didn't know... But when the day finally came, He lost all thoughts.It was so unreal, Michael was in the middle of the cheering crowd, staring, screaming like waves on top of the ocean.

"Win! Hitler is going to hell!"

On May [-], the Battle of Berlin ended in Soviet victory.Hitler committed suicide and his body was burned to pieces. "He's so bad," Michael heard all kinds of rumors, everyone relished: "He first killed his mistress, with poison, and then killed his most beloved dog... He also killed all the female secretaries, I hear they're all blond."

This war dragged almost the entire planet into the water, but the culprit ended up using this way to escape the mess he left behind.Mess, shabby European cities and villages, and shabby people.Whether Europeans or Americans, everyone is tattered.Hitler's successor was Admiral Dönitz.His name was Carl, too. Michael had a bottle of beer stuffed in his hand, well, at least...it sounded better than Hans.

"We can go home!" A drunk guy hugged Michael, "Go home!"

Michael drank the bottle of beer.As a victor, he felt the weariness and emptiness of a burst of victory.He can go home, but what about these prisoners of war?The huge Third Reich left millions of prisoners of war, wanting to kill them all?Michael had heard such sayings, after all, it was too troublesome to deal with, but it was very simple to kill, a bullet, or use the method invented by the Germans himself, such as the gas chamber, which is convenient, fast and efficient.

Michael hadn't fully tasted and understood the feeling of victory, and Tim's death completely let his mood fall into the ice cave.According to eyewitnesses, Tim was drinking too much and insisted on volunteering to command a tank to retreat.And the tank driver also drank a few bottles of wine before, reeking of alcohol.In this way, no one saw the specific process.In short, Tim fell under the tank tracks and died in the early morning of the second day of Victory Day.Michael ran, only to see a human figure under a white sheet.

"You're kidding," he said, "what are you kidding? It's not funny!"

"Big girl" was crying, squatting on the ground and holding her head, tears and snot running down her face, "It's true, Mike, Tim is dead."

"Nonsense, what a fart!" Michael grabbed the sheet, "Tim can't be dead, I have to take him back! He's not married yet!"

Several people grabbed Michael's arms and pulled him back.Michael watched as two soldiers carried away the white stretcher.Tim will be temporarily buried here, sleeping under the soil of Europe, with a cross made of branches on his grave.His parents would get a message and a flag and maybe a military medal... No, Michael struggles, it's horrible, Tim, his brother, they came to this damn place from America, halfway around the world; They dodged bombs and bullets from the Germans, lying in the trenches, mocking each other for their dusty faces.How could Tim die at this time?The war is clearly fucking over!

Michael drank a lot to digest Tim's inexplicable death.He heard discussions, and some people suspected that Tim committed suicide.He pounced on the guy and got into a fight.No one blamed him for his actions.Tim couldn't kill himself, Michael continued to drink, Tim had already thought about it and decided to marry an American girl.Will he throw away his most precious life for a German woman who cheated him of food?impossible!

Michael didn't get any sleep that night.Alcohol thrilled his nerves.He prayed to God, but except for a few raindrops, God did not respond to his confusion.So Michael went out. On the way, he met "Little German", and Oliver's eyes were very red.

"Go to sleep, Mike."

"I'll go for a walk, and then I'll go to sleep."

Oliver didn't force him any more.Beyond the embankment is the cemetery, where Tim will be buried.Michael walked forward, firm on his feet.The prisoners on the other side of the embankment huddled together, their expressions numb.Trials, hard labour, and prison cells awaited them.Michael quickly found his target. Tonight, he had a premonition—he would completely desecrate his not-so-firm beliefs.

"Come out," he said in German, "Quinnessy, come out."