Unlike war-torn Moscow, the streets of Augsburg, a small city in southern Germany on the Danube, are so clean and tidy. The spacious roads are spotlessly cleaned, and from time to time long buses slowly pass along the streets of the city, and the sun shines on everyone's face, making the place look peaceful and beautiful.

On the facades of the old brick and stone buildings, huge red flags stretch from the roof to the ground, and the campaign slogans of German Führer Arcardo Rudolf, who have been worn by the wind and sun, can be seen everywhere on the mottled streets and alleys. The bloody typing was printed just below the handsome portrait of the Führer: "Victory or Perdition!"

Patterned street lamps in a medieval style line the streets, looking like rows of guards. The little boy in the school hat and shorts stopped at the floor-to-ceiling window next to the store, looking at the new goods with curiosity.

Life in the town has been getting better lately, with better sweets, more bread and margarine, and even luxury goods like canned sardines and natural butter if you are willing to spend money. People no longer worry about hunger and begin to pursue a more comfortable life with the money in their hands.

Many families relied on government support and subsidies to buy new radios and beautiful floral clothes, and some wealthier families even bought civilian cars that looked really ugly. If the men who were far away from the front could return home, the local civilians might be more satisfied with their lives.

Victory or Destruction...... Before 1937, this question weighed on every destitute German like a mountain, inspiring every German to fight to the death with his weapon in his hand, but in 1939 the problem had disappeared. One victory after another made people rejoice and eventually become numb. Everyone began to talk about no longer which enemy city was captured at the front, but which family received a death notice from the condolence department.

"Hello, to 7th Street. "When the bus stopped at a stop next to the train station, a soldier in a Wehrmacht uniform squeezed onto the bus with his luggage, put down his baggage, took change out of his pocket, smiled politely at the driver, and handed a few coins to the conductor by the door.

He wore an Iron Cross on his chest, along with a beautiful medal for battle wounded, a medal for heroic combat, a medal for the country, a medal for the battle on the Eastern Front, and a medal for the battle of St. Rudolph. Although his rank was still only a sergeant, not even an officer, he still made several children in the car look at him with respect.

The soldier who had returned from the front squeezed out a warm smile to the children, and then was about to pick up his luggage and walk to the empty seat in the back row, but was stopped by a beautiful female conductor with curly blond hair: "Sir, you have three free tickets on you, so I can't charge your fare." ”

Because of the long war, Germany has promulgated various policies for returning soldiers, including free transportation, free train tickets, medical insurance, and various subsidies and benefits enjoyed by their families. These policies ensured the morale of the German soldiers fighting bravely on the front, and also improved the state welfare system in the rear, preparing the foundation for the development of a number of people's livelihoods after the war.

The soldier was obviously stunned, then put down his luggage, took the change that the other party had returned to him, smiled politely at the beautiful conductor, then said thank you, and picked up his luggage and walked to the back of the car. The little boys in front of him looked back curiously at the medal on his chest, as if looking at a victorious general.

The car moved slowly in the sunlight, and the frequency of the bumps and rocks made the soldier unconsciously close his eyes. It was as if the roar of the machine guns on the front line was ringing again, and the helpless roars and the crisp sound of bullet casings jumping out of the chambers. His head swayed slightly back and forth with the frequency of the car's shaking, as if he was sitting on an armored vehicle heading to the front line, and it was also the familiar roar of the engine, the difference was that at that time he was holding an MP-44 assault rifle in his arms, and there were countless comrades around him who were noisy and noisy.

"Griff, ammo, ammo, griff, cover me, shoot at that window, fire, fire...... Oh my God, you got shot...... The enemy is coming, Griff, fire!" A cry echoed in his ears, causing the young soldier to frown involuntarily as he fell asleep, sweat streaming down his forehead, and he was terrified of everything in his dreams.

"Sir!sir!7th Street is here!" As he struggled in his dream, a sweet voice called him back from his illusion, and the young soldier opened his eyes and looked at the beautiful curly-haired female conductor looking at him with a smile, and his cheeks flushed for a moment because of the career line that protruded from his bent over.

"I saw you were asleep, so I came over and woke you up...... Are you alright? Are you uncomfortable?" the conductor apparently did not notice the young soldier's embarrassment, but still bent over and asked, "Do you need our help?"

"Thank you...... Thank you!" the young soldier named Griff hurriedly stood up, arranged his uniform in a panic, then picked up his luggage, nodded to the conductor in thanks, and hurriedly stepped out of the car.

The bus parked on the side of No. 7 Avenue started again in a blink of an eye, and the beautiful conductor walked back to his seat, shook his head regretfully at the driver on the side and said, "It's handsome, it's a pity." ”

Griff, who watched the bus go away, carried his luggage and walked slowly along the gravel pavement, which was as little changed as when he left. After all, it's only been a year and a half, and it's not easy for a city that doesn't have much heavy industry to change beyond recognition.

But a small city has the benefits of a small city, and the quiet life here is not so easy to break, and Griff just walks slowly, not having to worry about bullets around the corner, not having to worry about bad luck stepping on a mine, this feeling is already very good, at least for him, it is very good.

Suddenly he was stunned for a moment, then stopped in front of a window, and he saw a beautiful national flag stuck in the gap in the window, and a small wreath hung at the end of the flagpole, and two white ribbons hung from the wreath.

This family Griff didn't know, but the fact that he could put something like this in the window meant that someone in the family had died on the front line. It could be the man who lived the house, or it could be a husband or a young son, whoever it was, the family was now incomplete, and everyone alive remembered their departed loved ones.

An old woman in the window saw Griff, her wrinkled face with a hint of sadness, Griff nodded in acknowledgment, and then walked on with her luggage. He didn't dare to wait for the old man to open the window, because he was afraid of hearing an unfamiliar name, afraid of being asked again and again, if he had ever heard that someone was really dead.

The scenery around him is becoming more and more familiar and urgent, this is the home he has been away from for more than a year, and there is a father and mother who love him. He loved the familiar taste of potato stew, the soft bed he was familiar with, and the lovely younger siblings he was familiar with...... Hopefully, everything in the family is really as the letter says, and all is well.

Before he knew it, Griff slowed down and became scared. He hadn't heard of the famous poem "It's more timid to be close to home", but he felt his feelings. Walking slowly, he walked to the front of the familiar courtyard, pushed open the slightly old fence, and looked at the gate that he had pushed open countless times.

"Oh my God, Griff, is that you?" a woman wiped her water-stained hand from her apron, pushed open the door and looked at the young man in the courtyard, who had changed dramatically, and ran to her son, who had become strong and strong, and held him tightly in her arms. For so long, she thought day and night, and went to church every day to pray on time, just so that her son could return safely.

At this moment, it was as if all the previous prayers and wishes had been fulfilled, and God heard her voice! The mother, who was already in her forties, burst into tears at this moment, hugging her son and crying bitterly.

Griff dropped his luggage at his feet and gently stroked his mother's back with his hand, he really wanted to hold his loved one with both hands, but the empty sleeve of his right hand prevented him from doing so. He had no choice but to comfort his mother softly, and in a voice that had become rough from the roar on the battlefield, he muttered the softest words: "Mother, I'm back!"

Hearing the sound of the courtyard, the stout man, who looked a little old, pushed open the door of the room, and stood on the steps looking down at his wife and hugging his son. He saw the empty sleeve and was visibly stunned. But soon he held back his tears. His son has returned, with honor on a distant battlefield...... Unfortunately - not all of them have returned.

With red eyes, the man staggered down the steps and walked to his wife and son, he stretched out his thick arm and hugged the two of them: "It's okay! It's okay! God forbid! Come back! Come back!"

I still owe you 3 more, and the dragon spirit will make up for it as soon as possible...... Thank you all for your wait and support...... Thank you!