In the morning, snow, fog, forest sea.

In front of the spruce tree, which had a tumour and looked like it had an extra head in its armpit, there was a small mound with a layer of large needles. It should be called a mound, and the dense dark green humus reminded Simon of the field gray uniforms of German soldiers. There is an old saying in the Germans, "A man who does not join the army does not have a complete life." But it was probably the defeat of the Germans, and this sentence finally stopped in Germany, and like these eternal flickering leaves, no one cared. As far as the eye could see, the spruce fir succumbed to the wind in unison, wailing and wailing, but their straight torsos would not bend a single bit.

"SiSu, Simon." Lotta said.

"HYV??, LOTA (Okay, Lotta)." Simon replied, and with the Mosin Nagant hanging from his chest, he brushed aside the branches and leaves that stood in the way, and hurried up to the top of the hump-like, frozen solid mound where a few frosty and wilting heather grew. Simon picked up the binoculars, exhaled hot air into his palm, opened the cover, and wiped the mirror clean. "Joulu on tulossa Ja olemme edelleen partioimassa (Christmas is coming, and we're still scouting)." Simon rubbed his hands and exhaled continuously, and through the face towel, two irregular white gases still erupted from his nostrils, which quickly dissipated in the forest sea. The leaves under the boots moaned slightly.

“Kuka kutsui ven?? l?? (Who called the Russians in our country?) Out of the corner of Simon's eye, Sergeant Lotta jumped up onto the mound at once, the forty-something veteran had four children, the youngest of whom was still nursing. The sergeant wrapped his face in a turban to cover the cold, and he left a slit in his eyes. And it was this crack that Simon saw that the sergeant's blue eyes were full of indifference and seriousness. “SiSu。” Simon said silently.

“Emme voi el???? jouluna,T?? t?? kutsutaan ven?? l?? isiksi ei voi el???? (We can't celebrate Christmas, so the Russians can't celebrate Christmas). The old sergeant was still angry, and Simon understood his feelings. But one cannot always go into the battlefield with such resentment. So Simon chose to close his mouth and stop talking, he scratched his wrist and pulled out a worm that looked like a leech, he took a sip, wondering why it was so cold and he could always encounter unlucky things, he pinched this parasite full of blood to death, the blood suddenly fainted, and he couldn't see anything when he tightened his sleeves.

In the telescope, it was still the same as before, snow, fog, forest sea, endless forest sea. Where the wind and snow are blowing outside the mountains, where the cold is fierce in winter, where the pine and fir trees are blown and swayed violently, a large number of bones have been buried.

“siell?? (there). A wisp of white smoke rose a few miles away, and Simon took out his pocket watch and looked at it, seven twenty-five. The sky is misty and bright for a short time, and people who have been freezing all night are often the most unbearable at this hour. Simon handed the telescope over, gesturing to guide the sergeant to the canopy that was slightly to the east, the faint white smoke, the white smoke blowing to the east.

“Saimme heid?? T Kiinni, Paska (We got them, bitch). The sergeant muttered happily, opened and closed his sabre-like slit mouth back and forth, touched Simon's arm, and leaped off the mound into the bushes.

Simon shook his head, and stepped into the snow, deep and shallow, with his velvet hat blocking the branches that were as warm as the kiss of his mother-in-law, and the mosin nagant made of fir was heavy, and Simon tried to lower his head as much as he could, and at the same time keep his eyes bright. Walking through the woods has always been a difficult task, as evidenced by the reindeer chasing in the past. The beautiful creatures with rough skin and horns would often plunge headlong into the snowy fields for days and nights without rest, all the way from Vaasa to Oulu, and then rest their strength to reach Hublanda. But no matter how fast you run, the hunter can still kill with a single shot.

Now they went hunting the Russians.

“sihist?? (shh~)" The old sergeant leaned down for the time being

The bridge of the sepiolite-like nose twitched, and the golden-white beard and pine needles looked like it. He knelt down on one knee and listened intently to the smell of the morning breeze. “Ven?? l?? iset ovat edess??, kuusi tai seitsem?? nsataa metri?? (The Russians look like six or seven hundred meters ahead). ”

“Se riitt???? (Enough). Simon leaned over his rifle and put his foot on the palms of Lotta's closed hands, the steel-plated soles of his boots stained with old snow that would not melt away, and the old sergeant must have shouted something like, "Oh, this is my pay for a week." "My wife's good gloves that I worked so hard to sew were ruined by you bad boys? Complaints like that.

Simon stepped on the old bark and kicked his legs up to the branch. One leg curled up and hanging, he blinked his eyebrows vigorously, shaking off the snow and exhaustion that had been building up for hours. Before dawn, Simon and Lotta packed up their things and left the camp, wondering if they could meet a few Russians and get some hazelnuts hidden by the pine trees for the winter. At this time, it is most comfortable to be a hamster.

The butt of the birch wood was pressed against the shoulder socket, a heavy and solid feeling, and Simon looked through the mechanical sight at the place where the white smoke inexplicably rose in the forest sea. His eyes were like arrows, shuttling through the frost and snow branches, and he saw several Russians sitting around the campfire very clearly. The earthy brown coat made these Russians look like dejected marmots.

Simon gestured to the sergeant under the tree, and Lotta immediately understood, and disappeared into the small bushes.

It's windy.

Frost puffs on the face, even through a scarf to withstand the torture of the cold, this frozen land despite the strict fatherly discipline and whipping of the children who grow in it. But after all, it is the motherland, since it is the motherland, it is the motherland, she has raised generations with milk, so it is natural to shed blood for her mother. Simon pulled the scarf tighter, revealing only a pair of blue eyes, blue over the lake.

"Ping~" Simon raised the muzzle of the gun slightly, closed one eye, pulled the trigger, and a second later, a hole in the head of a Russian by the campfire exploded. By that time, Simon had already jumped off the tree and fell into the snow. The old snow is no better than the new snow, cold and hard like the Kursk plain of the Russians.

“mit?? jos？ Simon crawled to Lotta's side with his gun in his elbow, and the sergeant looked at the binoculars with his eyes in his voice, "Hit sis???? n (hit). ”

“Mutta hyvin outo,Ven?? l?? iset eiv?? (But strangely, the Russians did not move at all). ”

“Ehk?? maamme on liian kylm??. (Maybe it's because our people aren't very hospitable). "The Mosin Nagant rifle rotated long and then pulled out the bolt, exiting one bullet and advancing the next. The expected indiscriminate shooting back by the Russians did not materialize. On the contrary, the monotonous and lonely sound of the guns alarmed the birds that had not had time to overwinter, and they should have called a few times in response, and then flew away. Thin.

Simon grabbed the binoculars and climbed to the next firing spot, which had been chosen before the shot was fired. In the high power of vision, one of the six Russians sitting around the campfire had fallen, and the remaining five stared at the burning fire without moving. The blood quickly coagulated into slag during the Nordic winter. Hang between the eyebrows of your companion's beard.

"Ping!" Simon fired again, his marksmanship was always accurate, keeping a dozen accurate when he used to shoot reindeer. The second Russian was shot in the shoulder socket, and if he fell down and couldn't get up, he was dead.

“He n?? ytt?? v?? t j???? tynein?? (They look frozen). "Lotta watched the other movements, but the Russians just sat back and watched their own people being killed one by one by bullets fired hundreds of meters away." Ping! The third bullet hit, and Lotta couldn't help but give Simon a thumbs up.

It's a very difficult question to calculate how many people you've sniped, but it's certain

After the war began, he killed hundreds of enemies with submachine guns and rifles. The Russians who were at first known as the most vicious among the soldiers were nothing surprising that they would cry when they were hit by a bullet. For example, if you hit a Molotov cocktail in Helsinki, you will use it for alcohol, and foxes will huddle together to keep warm, and the same will be true for people.

Simon didn't answer, just emptied the magazine, five bullets, five Russians, one shot at a time. The last remaining man had his face and body stained with the remains of his comrades, and there was no need to guess that this man was still sitting motionless by the campfire.

"Ok, mene." Simon stood up, pulled out a bridge clip, stuffed it into the magazine, and walked in the opposite direction. The sergeant was obviously a little stunned, he saw six people, but only counted five kills.

“On toinen henkil??. (There is another person)" The sergeant rushed up, holding the submachine gun tightly in his hand, and the white snow cloak hid the two of them in the snow field.

Simon shook his head, pointed to the rifle that had just been loaded, and said, "He ovat kaikki kuolleet."

Yes, there is only one person who can live in the woods when it snows? Or maybe the five bullets hit the five Russians who had already frozen to death. They lit a fire at dawn and survived a winter night thousands of miles from home.

It's December 23, the day after tomorrow is Christmas, and the Russians will celebrate their Christmas on January 7. But Simon thought that no one could go back, and if the war had been fought in the winter, it would have ended in the spring, and the dead would be buried in the season of luxury, for the land soaked in the blood of the soldiers must be the most fertile.

Simon with his gun in hand, and Sergeant Lotta walked in front, leveling out bushes after bushes. A month ago, Simon was a reindeer worker and Lotta was a farmer. Now they are all soldiers. Xu killed five more Russians, and Sergeant Lotta hummed a little tune, and nine times out of ten, his wife, who repeatedly talked about it, would take a small axe to cut down a small tree by Lake Onega, hang up streamers, and celebrate Christmas with his four children.

"Joy to the earth, glory to the Lord in the highest, happiness is the pilgrim who marches, passing forward, beautiful places ......"

The old sergeant's voice was like that of a green duck, but after all there was some Christmas atmosphere, and the old sergeant had boasted more than once how good his daughter sang and how good the swan was, so the teenage girl sang differently.

"Beautiful place, we went to the Garden of Eden with singing......"

The wind from the Karelian isthmus blew away the songs of the sergeants and flew to a thousand lakes, where there were 10,000 cabins, but only one homeland.

"The times are coming, the years are passing, the nations are rising or falling, but they never rejoice, and the message from heaven will live forever like a chord......"

What kind of heroic Valkyrie, isn't it all a cold fjord?

Ps: This chapter is a bit abrupt, but the next chapter in the text is a little bit unexpected, since the previous chapter mentioned the protagonist's bloodline and the like, then just write a Simon Haye, yes, it's Simon Haye, the Finnish sniper with the most snipers in history, sniping people with mechanical sights 700 meters away, an average of 1.5 rounds of an enemy. Naturally, there is no need to say much about where Simon Hayes came from.

In addition, there are indeed songs at the end of the article, the Christmas song in the Finnish movie "The Unknown Soldier", there are two parallel montages, one side is the chorus of the soldiers and the other is the chorus of Loka Anti's wife and daughter, which is very good. The name is "Joulu Rintamalla", which is included in the soundtrack of the film "Lasse Enersen", which is very cool Nordic style. The last sentence at the end of the article is a film review after the author watched the movie.

SiSu, transliterated as "Sisu", is the national spirit of the Finnish people, representing the perseverance and perseverance that has survived to this day.

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