The sound of a train whistle echoed in the air, from far to near, overhead, and after a few seconds the earth began to tremble with a low, heart-wrenching roar. The air was filled with the pungent smell of gunsmoke, and the bomb craters were filled with sewage during the heavy rain last night, and the water was filled with pale and swollen corpses and stumps that had been soaked and stumped, giving off a disgusting fishy smell.

Jack Fried. Carrying a Mauser G98a carbine and an M1918 grenade on his belt, Sergeant Dogen led the squad's last three infantry men to retreat north along the muddy road.

The counterattack of the regimental reserves had been routed, the Marne had become the end of everything, the battalion headquarters had been completely destroyed by enemy shelling, the companies and platoons on the front had lost their unified command, and after a nightmarish night, the hungry and cold remnants of the German army raised the white flag and surrendered to the French, and only a few broke through the gaps in the French troops by the morning light.

"Squad leader, take a break." Private Hans. Bert suggested to Dogen. They had been marching continuously for four hours, and their physical exertion was already close to the limit.

"Rest in place, Greendoug is on duty." Dougan looked at his watch and agreed to the private's request.

"What kind of battle is this, the senior officers are all stupid." Bert sat on a rock, crumpled his soaked cigarette case, and threw it into the mud pond by the side of the road.

Dougan turned his head to look at his old subordinate, and then silently took out his tin cigarette case from the pocket of the hem of his uniform, and handed it to Hans. Bert.

"Thank you, squad leader." Bert took the cigarette case with some embarrassment.

"Do you want one too? Klein. Bert opened the cigarette case and passed it to his comrades on the other side. Private Rowan. Crane glanced at him and reached for a cigarette from the case.

"What about you? Greyhound. Bert asked Private Harry, who was standing guard on the side. Greendoug.

"Okay, let's have one." The private, nicknamed "Greyhound," wiped his hands on the placket of his uniform, then picked up a cigarette from his cigarette case.

"Squad leader, walk two kilometers further north, and you can see the riverbank." Bert took a cigarette and handed it back to the squad leader, Dogan.

"At this time, it is especially necessary to be vigilant, you may encounter the French reconnaissance force." Dougan took a cigarette out of the box, then carefully slipped the mottled tin cigarette case back into his uniform pocket.

"Don't worry, the greyhound has a bright eye." Bert pulled an Austrian-made kerosene lighter out of his pocket and lit a cigarette in his mouth.

"Watch the plane!" Greyhound shouted warning. Dogen hurriedly looked up and saw that in the gap filled with gunsmoke, a few small shadows were faintly revealed.

"It's fighters, and they don't waste bullets on the heads of us soldiers." Dougan lowered his carbine.

"Squad leader, what should we do when we go back, I'm afraid there will only be three of us left in the company." Bert asked.

"The third company can't be rebuilt, and we should be replenished into the reserve as usual." Dogan spat out a smoke ring.

"Squad leader, will the above demobilize us?" Bert looked at the squad leader expectantly.

"The French are still pushing forward and we can't stop their offensive at all. Do you think the higher authorities will let us leave the army at this time? Dogan replied with a shake of his head.

"You still know more, squad leader, I'm just a farmer, and I don't understand any situation strategy at all." Bert nodded in agreement.

"There's troops coming, it's our people." The greyhound shouted loudly again, and then jumped onto the highway and waved vigorously into the distance.

"Is it our reinforcement? If so, they'd be half a day late. Bert stood up with his cigarette in his mouth.

"It should be a division reserve, is it still ready to continue the counterattack? Are all the people in the staff crazy? Dogan stepped out onto the road with his rifle on his back and carefully donned his steel helmet.

"Salute!" Seeing the troops approaching, Dogan gave a loud order. Four German soldiers stood tall and saluted a major officer at the front of the line.

"Company, keep moving!" The Major shouted orders, then left the line and walked towards Dogen.

"Which unit are you from? Are you left behind? The major walked up to Dogen, first glanced at the fourth-class Red Eagle Medal and the Non-commissioned Officer Military Merit Cross on Dogen's chest, and then raised his hand and returned a military salute, those who can get these two medals will not be deserters.

"Sergeant Jack Fred of the 3rd Company of the 2nd Battalion of the 57th Infantry Regiment. Respects to you, sir. Dougan reported loudly.

"Fifty-seventh regiment?" The major was stunned for a moment.

"Yes, sir." Dougan replied with his head held high.

"Intelligence says that the 57th Regiment was annihilated yesterday." The Major frowned.

"Actually, we held out all night, sir, until the morning." Dougan replied.

"Understood." The Major turned to look at the troops on the march, then turned back to Dogen and said, "I'm Marven, commander of the 3rd Battalion of the 702nd Infantry Regiment. Graff. Feng. Major Kuhnberg, now you are under my command. ”

"But, Your Excellency." Dogen saluted the other party: "According to the rules, we should report to the division headquarters." ”。

"Call me Major, Sergeant, it's an emergency, the division headquarters has retreated to the north bank in the early hours of this morning, and now I'm the highest-ranking officer on the front." Major Kuhnberg waved at Dogen: "Keep up with the group, soldier, I have some questions for you." ”。

=================================================

"Are you sure that man is Count Kuhnberg, a former major in the German Army?" Werler frowned and looked at Dogan.

"I thought I had forgotten about him a long time ago, but when I saw that face, all the memories came back to me, and I could swear to God that that person was Marvin. Feng. Major Kuhnberg, commander of the 3rd Battalion of the 702nd Regiment. Dougan nodded affirmatively.

"He just looks older, and he hasn't changed much in appearance." "He may not have noticed me, or he may have noticed and not recognized me, but it is understandable that who would have thought that the army infantry sergeant in the past would now be an SS colonel," Dougan said. ”。

"Hitler was just a corporal, Dougan." Weirle squeezed his eyes at Dogen: "Now do you think that this count wants to be against the Führer?" Is there any basis for this? ”。

"He was already dead, and I found his name on the dead list after the war. In the legal sense, Kuhnberg is already a dead man, a general. Dougan said.

"I see, it's really suspicious that a dead man has suddenly appeared at a press conference at the Prime Minister's Office." Wehrle snuffed out the cigarette butt in the ashtray in the corner of the hallway.

"The Führer asked me to come to you and deal with this hidden danger as much as possible without alarming the journalists." Dogan said with some hesitation: "Personally, I would like to be able to catch it alive, anyway, he was once a hero." ”。

"Heroes? I've seen a lot of heroes, and he's the first one to come back from the dead. Werler took off his military hat and brushed his sideburns from his hair.

"So, you go to Tysenhowen, and we can set a small trap." Wierle leaned in and commanded in Dogen's ear.

====================================================

"It's an authentic Norwegian cod, and in a London restaurant, a plate like this one would cost me at least two pounds." Wickwood cut the fish and showed off to his new friends.

"yes, I've never been a big fan of fish." Mr. G, or as he should have been called, Count Kuhnberg, with an elegant smile on his face.

"You're British, how could an English not like fish." Wickwood swallowed the fish in his mouth and picked up the white wine on the table.

"You're an American, so why do you like fish so much?"

"Actually, I like anything delicious, and my ancestors are Scottish." Wickwood gestured to the red hair on his head.

"Well, I can tell, Mr. Wickwood." Kuhnberg smiled and nodded.

"Excuse me, are you Mr. Henry?" At this moment, a man dressed in a civil servant's dress walked up to the table, and he politely bowed over and asked.

"Yes, I'm Henry."

"The Daily Mail's Morris. Mr. Henry. The man added.

"Yes, what's the matter?" Kuhnberg picked up a napkin and wiped his mouth.

"I'm sorry, but I'm Stuffen from the Press Secretariat. Hill, we're going to have a meeting between the head of state and journalists in a moment, your name is on the list, but we didn't find the question form filled out by the Daily Mail. Hill replied.

"Symposium? Ah yes, of course, didn't find that form? Kuhnberg was stunned for a moment, then changed to a surprised expression.

"Yes, Mr. Henry, it is rare for such a thing to happen. We need these forms as an archive, so if it's convenient for you now. Hill looked left and right: "If it's convenient for you, can you fill out a form immediately, otherwise we can only regret canceling your opportunity to ask questions." ”

"Got it, can you fill it out here?" Kuhnberg frowned.

"No, you need to go to the press office first." Hill replied.

"No problem, let's go, Mr. Hill." Kuhnberg placed the napkin on the table and stood up.

"I'm sorry, I'll come back when I go." Kuhnberg patted Wickwood's arm.

"It's all right, I'll keep you for the wine, Mr. Henry." Wickwood nodded in understanding.

"Please go this way." Hill led Kunnberg to the side door of the restaurant.

In front of the door stood a soldier of the Flag Guard with a rifle, who looked them up and down carefully for a few times before turning sideways and giving way to the door.

"Please come with me, Mr. Henry." Hill smiled at Kuhnberg and opened the door and walked out of the dining room.

Kuhnberg stood in front of the SS soldier, first at the second-class Iron Cross ribbon pinned to the buttonhole of his uniform, and then at the black battle wounded medal pinned to his breast pocket, then he nodded to the soldier, turned and strode out of the doorway.

"Over here, Mr. Henry." Hill waited at the turn in the hallway.

"It's a magnificent building, Mr. Hill." Kuhnberg said with a laugh.

"I agree more, Count Kuhnberg." A voice rang out behind Kuhnberg.

Kuhnberg stood still, raised his head and took a deep breath, then turned calmly, still with an elegant demeanor.

"Long time no see, Major Kuhnberg." Dogen respectfully saluted the other party, and behind him stood a row of heavily loaded Flag Guard soldiers.

PS: I'm not feeling well, I'm late for the update, sorry.

There is only this chapter today, and the chapter owed will be made up tomorrow or the day after tomorrow.

I'm satisfied if everyone can understand me, and I won't ask for a monthly pass today.