Battle of the Rhine

"Davahiri" is a weirdo—that's a polite way of saying it.Among the workers, his nickname is "Vampire".Michael thought the small, good-looking jerk must be a pervert, not because of the war, but because Schwarberg was "bad."

Schwarberg is from Hamburg, and it is said, always said, that there are different stories about his experience, several versions circulated privately.Some people say that Schwaberg was a fanatical Nazi who once served as a guard in a concentration camp and slaughtered tens of thousands of Jews. Others said that he joined the Gestapo and arrested Communists everywhere.There are also rumors, which may be the one closest to the real version, that Schwaberg was a member of the 1955rd Skeleton Division of the SS, with brilliant results, and can be counted in "hundreds".In any case, "Davasili" was captured by the Soviet Army on the eve of World War II and served as a prisoner of war in Siberia.Most of the German prisoners of war who served in the same period failed to return home alive, but he tenaciously survived the trial, overcame the extreme cold and hard labor, and survived amazingly. In [-], Su and Germany signed an agreement, and he was on the list, and returned to China to start a new life.This is where the nickname "Davasili" comes from.

In all fairness, Schwarberg was the hardest working man Michael had ever met—if he was one.Young people in the company often mention in awe that Mr. Schwarberg gets up at five every day and arrives at the company at seven, rain or shine.The areas he has dealt with have seen their performance flourish.However, the other side of hard work is cruelty. "Davasili" requires everyone to give as much as he does, without private time, holidays, family and friends.He had a particular fondness for "squeezing" ("motivating," as he called it) engineers, especially Quincy.He was always actively "summoning" Quincy to his office, looking for all sorts of little errors in reports, "a"s that weren't big enough, typed ink that was too pale, binding papers. Nails used three - listen!It is obvious to find fault.Michael wanted to beat him up a long time ago, but Quincy persuaded him, why bother, they are all at this age, and they will retire in a few years, so they don't need to respond to Schwarberg's provocation. "He's just waiting for you to hit him so he can fire you in a fair way." Quincy stroked Michael's temples. "Don't be as knowledgeable as he is."

However, now, Michael had to "common knowledge" with this little man. "Damn you!" He pounced on him, knocked down the desk, smashed the ink bottle to pieces, and dropped the documents all over the floor, stained with ink, "How dare you!"

Schwarberg promoted Quincy at the same time as he dispatched Michael.This is never a good sign.Quincy loves the position of engineer, and this promotion will take him away from his beloved front line. He doesn't care about salary, and he doesn't want to be off the shop floor.Moreover, in this way, Schwarberg became his immediate supervisor, and he had to report to "Davasili" in every detail.Michael suggested to the company headquarters that if he wanted to go abroad, let Quincy go with him, and they would go to Asia together, no problem.But "Davasili" just didn't agree, and finally, under Quinnessy's persuasion, Michael got on the plane to Hong Kong resentfully.

Quincy often wrote to Michael, long letters with many pages.Michael wrote to him too, the same long one, the envelope bulging with paper.Michael couldn't adapt to life without Quincy at all, and couldn't help touching his side every night when he went to bed.Depressed by the empty other half of the bed, he called Quincy, not counting jet lag.Quincy never complained about having to get up in the middle of the night to answer Michael's phone calls. He just gently persuaded Mike to take care of his health, avoid stealing Coke, and remember to open an umbrella... and, he is very good, Schwarberg reprimanded him at most That's all, the work is not as difficult as imagined.

Clearly, Quincy lied.As soon as Michael came back, Sherman, who was in the same office, secretly told him that "Davasili" used Quincy as a private secretary and ordered Quincy to go to work at seven o'clock; Quincy, throwing documents on him and making him serve tea and water, just like the old landowners oppressing serfs.Although Quincy seldom speaks on his own initiative, he is capable, responsible, willing to help, and does not make small reports. After getting along with him for a long time, his colleagues like him very much.Schwarberg's "tyranny" has angered everyone, but Queenie has been hesitant, perhaps worried about Michael.

"Mr. Von Quinnessy didn't tell you, did he?" Sherman was filled with indignation. "'Davasili' went to Switzerland for a meeting last month and asked him to go with him. Just the two of them! I guess Von Quinnessy Mister must have been bullied very badly, he didn't have much energy when he came back..."

Sherman and many in the company knew Michael and Quincy as "old friends."Maybe they understand, but no one cares about it.As an adult, it's hard to take care of yourself.During the physical examination last year, Quincy had some calcium deficiency, his calf twitched from time to time at night, and his blood sugar was lower than normal.From winter to early spring, the cold has not been cured. "I'm in worse shape than I used to be," he said to Michael, "after all—I'm my age!"

Michael left Germany in the spring and was unable to take care of Quincy.The thought of his college students being so mistreated by Schwarberg made Michael furious. "Fuck you!" He jumped on top of Schwarberg, slamming his knee into his chest. Not to be outdone, "Davasili" turned over to avoid it, picked up a chair and threw Michael on the head and back.He is definitely professionally trained, gets up early every day to exercise, and is extremely agile. "Come on," Schwarberg's green eyes glowed wildly, "Damn Yankee, you pig—kill me! Aren't you going to kill me!"

"I'll kill you!" Michael roared, grabbing the chair, "Why didn't the Russians shoot you!"

Hearing "Russians," Schwarberg seemed even more excited, as if he could draw a dagger from his sleeve at any moment and slice Michael's neck open.However, due to his height, he gradually lost the wind and retreated to the corner of the office, looking for new weapons.Michael chased after him, "Run? What are you capable of!—Without tanks, you're not even a fucking fart! Worse than a woman!"

Schwarberg glared at Michael, and for a split second, hatred ignited him.This is a real soldier, or rather, he was, or still is, a pure Nazi.The deep-seated hatred radiated from every cell of Schwarberg, and he charged desperately, as if he had forgotten everything.