Today is the twenty-ninth birthday of the sky, and I am the biggest in the "beast" star, so let's give all the recommended votes, and the sky smiled, ah......

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It was dawn, and Lynn opened her tired eyes. The morning light was so soft, and the scent of the earth overshadowed the aftertaste of the smoke. The sound of guns and cannons seemed to belong to another world, and it was so quiet in my ears that I couldn't even hear the sound of birds.

The dirt in front of her was still damp and muddy with ice crystals, and Lynn knew in her heart that she was still in the trenches, and the nightmare seemed to be an unchangeable reality. After a moment's hesitation, he struggled to push his stiff, sore hands to his feet. Although wrapped in a fairly thick blanket, it could not withstand the cold of the night at all, but compared to those who froze to death in the hinterland of the Soviet Union, Lynn was already quite lucky - although there was a light snow in the past two days, the minimum temperature was about -15 degrees Celsius, and he could barely survive with winter clothes and military blankets.

Being able to fall asleep in such a difficult environment is unthinkable in the past.

Sitting up against the wall of the trench, Lynn looked around, and many of the soldiers were still curled up in blankets and clothes. Not far away, several big ears sat around a small pile of charcoal fire along steel helmets, and a metal lunch box was hanging from a tripod made of wooden sticks, and a faint fragrance was wafting from it. As consciousness cleared, the emptiness and hunger in my stomach became uncomfortable.

Licking his lips, Lynn pulled out half of a biscuit from his pocket, which he had kept from yesterday's dinner - bullets, food, and water, and he had unwittingly turned into a squirrel, instinctively storing everything so that he could survive as much as possible in difficult circumstances.

Expectantly and reluctantly, I stuffed the biscuit into my mouth and chewed it a few bites, and it was dry and hard. He was groping for a kettle, but saw the "butcher" approaching with his submachine gun. Of course, there is some nervousness in his heart, but Lynn knows that this guy only becomes extremely manic when he is fighting or close to battle, and usually has a straight face at most.

As he approached, the "butcher" stopped, looked down at Lynn, and said something "with a huff." Lynn didn't understand a word, so she had to raise her head and look at each other blankly. Fortunately, there are people in any situation on this battlefield, who are temporarily deaf, insane, or suffering from battlefield autism. Seeing that Lynn neither stood up nor answered, the "butcher" was not angry, but just reached out and patted him on the shoulder, and then walked away with a serious face.

Guessing that "The Butcher" was probably praising his performance last night, Lynn was not happy at all. The line was held, but it was the German soldiers who bought it with their blood and lives. Lynn, who had seen no less than fifty German infantrymen die heroically just to repel the Soviet heavy tank group's charge, had been expected to surrender when the soldiers of European countries suffered more than a certain percentage of casualties, and would not be ashamed of this. The tragic battle that took place in front of him finally made him see the bloody side of the German officers and soldiers.

The battlefield of fire and blood had been repeated countless times in her dreams, and Lynn tried to clear her mind and continue to fumble for her water bottle, but the cold, hard metal object seemed to be lost. At that moment, a hand wearing woolen gloves handed over a military kettle with almost worn paint. Lynn turned her head, and to her left was a lean young man, who looked to be in his early twenties, and under his steel helmet he could see a handful of stained yellow hair, always holding a half-cigarette in his mouth, and only carefully clipped it to his ear when he slept.

Lynn took the kettle, not knowing how to say thanks, so she simply didn't say anything. When drinking water, Huang Mao whispered, and finally laughed a few times. This time, Lynn roughly understood a separate word in front of it: "Danich", which means Danish.

So, you're a volunteer from Denmark?

On her first day on the battlefield, Lynn identified the unit as the 11th SS Volunteer Panzergrenadier Division of the German SS, an elite fighting force of Germanic people from all over the country, including Norwegian, Danish, and a handful of Swedish and Finnish soldiers. Among the various armored divisions of the SS, the "Nordic" division was formed relatively late, but after it became an army, it fought on the most difficult front line for a long time, experienced a series of extremely brutal battles, and its name was also quite resounding.

In fact, whether the Danes or the Norwegians, there is no difference in this trench, and they will not change their situation. Thinking like this, Lynn twisted the kettle and returned it to Huang Mao, and smiled reluctantly.

Huang Mao didn't say anything more, wrapped himself in a blanket and closed his eyes to recuperate.

Weapons are a soldier's first life, but sometimes the role of a kettle is more important than a weapon. Thinking about this, Lynn fumbled around again, and finally found the kettle half-buried in the dirt under her buttocks, shook it, and there was still half a pot of water, and tied it back under her belt. When I retracted my hand, I touched a hard object in my jacket pocket, so I took it out. It was a thick book slightly larger than a palm, with a cover, and it was estimated that it was a book. The handwriting inside is quite vigorous, and Lynn knows most of the individual letters - judging from the "redundant" dots on some of the letters, Lynn estimates that these are either German or Danish.

There is a black and white family photo in the notebook.,Judging from the smooth and smooth texture of the photo.,It should have been taken not long ago.。 The photograph is traditional, with the parents sitting in the center and the four children standing in the back row, in order of tallness. The tallest should be the "self" in the mirror, wearing a straight SS uniform, looking vibrant. The youngest three are a boy and two women, the boy is sixteen or seventeen years old, and he also wears a uniform, but he has a childish face; The older girl was in her teens, with beautiful curly hair, and she looked like a beautiful embryo, while the younger girl was only five or six years old, shy and a little afraid.

According to the normal age of marriage and childbearing, their parents should not be old, but the couple in the photo looks weathered, the man looks like an old man in his sixties, and the woman also has gray temples. The four children looked at least healthy, but the couple's expressions were heavy and lost. This can't help but remind Lynn of the background of the times, the fate of the empire is as heavy as the sun, and people of insight should indeed be sad about the fate of their own nation, and at the same time for their own fate.

Hearing some movement in the trenches to the west, Lynn hurriedly put away his scattered thoughts along with the notebook that he couldn't understand for the time being. Soon, he saw the skinny young man and another young man in military uniform carrying a long wooden box along the trench last night, and the soldiers along the way spontaneously put in the extra weapons. Most of them were left behind by wounded and fallen comrades, but some of them came from attacking Soviet soldiers. Of course, many people still keep the "** sand". Everything seems to be voluntary, and no one is imposing interference or dictating.

For the Mauser rifle in his hand, Lynn is not good, but at least he can use it smoothly. After a while, the box was finally lifted in front of him, and Lynn looked inside, although there were several MP38/40 submachine guns, they all looked damaged and needed to be repaired, and the rest were either "Mauser" or "Mosingana". Huang Mao probably wanted to find a suitable guy for himself, so he went up and rummaged through it, and soon found a Mauser military pistol in the corner of the box, that is, a barge gun. Seeing this thing, Lynn's eyes lit up: this was the favorite of warlords and bandits during the Republic of China, and German-made originals were even more popular. However, Huang Mao disdainfully brushed it aside, and the other soldiers standing next to him were indifferent to this small killing weapon.

Lynn was excited, chased a step forward, and grabbed the seventy or eighty percent new barge gun from the box, and the heavy feeling suddenly made him feel like a treasure!

The thin young man who was carrying the box in front looked at Lynn with some surprise, and slowed down his pace—Lynn thought it was a holster for his barge gun on purpose, and hurriedly laughed and reached out to rummage. The wooden crate that was originally used to hold the rifle was not large, and the contents could be counted with a few pulls, but the obvious shell holster did not appear. At this time, the surrounding soldiers all looked over with curiosity as if they had seen a flying immortal outside the sky. Lynn ignored all of this, and continued to rummage until he saw the thin young man shaking his head at him, and then he took his hand back in a huff.

The skinny young man and his companions carried the boxes and continued on their way, their thin bodies were not actually suitable for such physical work, but the battlefield was sometimes impersonal. Returning to his place and sitting down, Lynn looked at the shell gun in his hand, and his heart was a little hot. After a few fiddling sessions, the bolt, magazine, and hammer are all flexible, and the grip is engraved with a red "9" on both sides, which means that it was originally produced at 7.63mm, and later modified from the factory to 9mm in order to use ammunition with standard pistols such as the Luger 08. From this, it can be basically inferred that it belongs to the old model produced before the 20s and does not have a fully automatic shooting function.

In the process, Huang Mao has been silently watching Lynn fiddle with the new "toy", and his curious eyes are the same as the skinny young man before. Unlike in the East, especially in China, the Mauser military pistol received a cold reception in Europe. There are many reasons why the army does not like it, such as its high price, large size, and difficulty in controlling muzzle jumps when firing rapidly, etc., so even the German [***] team did not have batch equipment. However, in the later stages of the war, the dilemma of depleting resources forced the German army to turn over the old goods in the warehouse. It is said that not only the Wehrmacht units on the front line, but even the SS troops, who were quite well treated in peacetime, had to receive some weapons that were not eye-catching in peacetime as supplements, thus creating a strange situation in which the old and new weapons were on the same field.

The shell gun is actually not complicated, and when the gun is warmed up, Lynn can basically use it, and he also learns to fiddle with the bandits in the movie a few times. With a safety and no locking button, and the magazine has a capacity of 6 rounds, this guy is really old. Talking about what is better than nothing, Lynn put the gun in his waist, thinking about finding an opportunity to get some matching bullets, but he didn't notice the sympathy in Huang Mao's eyes. It is good to keep the battle in positional battles, and on long marches, the soldiers are always eager to reduce their loads to a minimum, but the casual discarding of firearms is intolerable to many officers. Too heavy? Ask the "butcher" boots first.