Borol shook his head, put his hand on the steel helmet on his head, slapped the white ash on his chest, and spat the spit in his mouth to the side.

"Hey, hey?" he shouted twice, making sure that there was nothing wrong with his ears, and then he carefully bent over the window, glancing out with half of his head exposed, and quickly put his head back.

"Baru, the French are retreating?" he shouted loudly upstairs, but no one seemed to answer.

"Baru!" he had a bad feeling, and for a moment the grinning beard leaning against the cannon came back to his mind, which made him very uncomfortable.

So he shouted in a more anxious and urgent tone, "Baru! I'm calling you! bastard!"

"I hear you! this is the third time I've answered you! Borol!" finally came Balu's voice in his ears, and it seemed that his ears were still a little problematic just now, but now it seemed to be fine.

"The French are gone?" Borol asked, laughing.

Although he didn't know why his platoon commander's boss was laughing, Balu, who was carrying a machine gun down the stairs, replied, "Retreated, I saw them come down after a long walk." I don't know why, they should have been able to defeat us lightly. ”

"Go and get everyone here, I'm going to check the casualties, there's no way to hold out here, arrange it, be ready to retreat at any time. Borol said to Baloo, and wanted to turn away.

Balu suddenly stopped him, "Hey, head, are you alright?"

Borol was stunned for a moment, then stared at Balu: "It's okay, of course I'm fine, what do you mean by asking?"

"I wanted to ask if it would hurt to have a fork in my shoulder. Balu asked, gesturing to Borol's back.

It seemed that the tension and killing could indeed make people forget the pain for a while, and Borol found a fork stuck in his shoulder, which seemed to be the debris of the grenade just now. He pulled out the fork and threw it on the ground: "Don't come to help, I have a tourniquet in my waist pocket behind me." ”

After bandaging the wounds, Borol himself walked out of the house with his gun. Baloo went to find the other survivors, and he walked slowly down the road of the small village with a gun in hand. On a street corner, he saw one of his men lying on the ground, staring at the sky with big eyes, but he had a few bullet holes in his chest and neck, and the blood was dry.

Walking cautiously, he closed the soldier's eyes with his hand, then ripped off the identity tag from the corpse and solemnly put it in his jacket pocket. He raised his head and looked at the warehouse at the entrance of the village, which had once been an anti-tank gun position, and it had been just ten minutes ago, but now there was light smoke and no sound.

He stepped over the fence, which had been half-shattered by machine guns, and walked slowly to the place where his heroic comrades had fought, and he felt that his face was itchy, as if small bugs were crawling down his cheekbones. Ignoring this, however, he walked straight to the bearded man, even though the person leaning there was now only a corpse, unable to open his eyes or speak.

Four German paratroopers - or airborne infantrymen - were killed here, and although they were not trained to parachute, they could be replenished by guò transport planes as soon as possible. They were arguably the most advantageous support for the paratroopers and arguably the most elite infantry in Germany. The collars of these men were not embroidered with the alpine edelweiss that represented the honor of paratroopers, but there was a clasp on it to distinguish them from ordinary infantrymen.

Walking to the bearded man's side, Borol sat down slowly, looking at the man who had been sent to support him, who was still alive himself, and the man who had come to support had died here. Borol lit a cigarette, then for some reason pulled out another cigarette and placed it on one of the cannon's blood-ridden seats.

"I ask you to smoke a cigarette and I hope you go all the way. Borol whispered, and then he reached out his hand and wiped it on his face.

Behind him, the German sniper came over: "Sir, everyone is assembled, waiting for you to pass." ”

Borol nodded, stood up and tore off the ID cards of the fallen soldiers and put them back in his pocket, then walked back, and when he passed the sniper, he pointed to the 75 mm cannon behind him and said, "What a good gun." ”

"You're right! The sniper nodded, glanced at the burning tank wreckage at the entrance of the village, and nodded: "A good gun!"

As if something had been put down, Borol's steps became much lighter. When he saw his men, he became irritated for some reason. He didn't find his former deputy squad leader in the familiar crowd, and ...... Several people he knew.

It's not sadness, it's not emotion, and Borol doesn't know how to describe how he feels inside. It's just that I feel very tired and feel like my breathing is out of rhythm. He walked step by step into the crowd, put the gun in his hand on the table, picked up the dozen or so identification cards that were already placed there, and stuffed them into his pocket.

"Does anyone know how to drive? I think I can use that thing faster when I retreat for a while. Borol asked, and several people raised their hands. He nodded and continued: "Sort out the ammunition and destroy everything that can't be taken away. ”

"Balu, you take the people of Class 1 and Class 2 and pack your things...... The third shift will set up a guard post around it, and if there is any discovery, notify everyone immediately. He pointed out the window: "Men are placed in all directions, the French do not know why they have abandoned the attack, be careful." ”

Just as Borol was packing up their belongings and piling up their cars to retreat, a herald from Valhavin Airport drove into the village. The German herald wore a raincoat, leather gloves and a patterned nameplate around his neck.

"Who is your commander here?" the rider didn't get off the bike, didn't even turn off the engine, and it was clear that he was in a hurry to get to the next place to deliver the news.

Borol stepped forward and replied: "I am their commander. Is there any order from HQ?"

"This time it's not an order. The herald shook his head: "The Führer has protected us, and the French army has retreated. They are retreating in a southwesterly direction. ”

How could it be that they retreated like this? Borol was stunned for a moment, and hurriedly asked, "Why?"

"I heard that the Führer heard about the predicament here, and brought in more than 40 Stuka bombers and 20 FW-190 fighters, which took off in turn to attack this French unit, and these air forces disrupted the French offensive, and on the other hand, the 11th Panzer Division of Army Group B was already only a few hours away from here, so the French had to retreat. The herald gave a German salute: "Congratulations, Commander! ”

Won? I can't imagine it. Borol sat down on the steps, looked at his comrades who were also dumbfounded, and suddenly smirked. The retreat seemed far away, and it seemed that they didn't have to flee for their lives to the Williams Bridge, and there was a very unreal feeling at all.

However, this unreal feeling quickly disappeared, and the Leopard tanks of the German Army's 11th Panzer Division gave confidence to the German paratroopers who were weak at this moment. Watching one tank after another drive by, Borol and the others, who had just hurriedly dug up the mines they had planted, had an unprecedented sense of security.

At this moment they did believe that their battle seemed to be over. At least...... At least it's the end of the phase.

A whole company of German infantry was then rushed over, and they were ordered to take over the position and inform the paratroopers that they could drive back to Valhavin on foot.

Borol was not stingy either, and gave the infantrymen some drinks and supplies, along with the mines they had dug, and the cars were left for the German infantrymen passing by here to take their way, and he returned to Valhavin with a squad of paratroopers carrying his own weapons lightly.

On the way, they were in a very good mood, because they bumped into the battalion headquarters personnel who were also returning there, and on the way they met an artillery unit in a hurry, and dozens of trucks pulling 150 mm heavy guns were speeding by, and it seemed that they had won the battle.

These paratroopers were full of self-confidence with cigarettes in their mouths, and although their bodies were covered in dust and some of their faces were covered with blood, they were the victors of the day, the heroes of the entire German army on the Western Front.

Before he knew it, Borol heard the song that made his blood boil again, and although it was distant, it was very clear:

"We fought for Germany,

For freedom and honor,

We will make it impossible for the enemy to rest!

The cruel hand of death,

Usually like the best soldiers,

But we won, and the wall still stands,

The flood of enemies has been routed by us!

This makes us paratroopers,

Become a hero of Germany!

March with us, comrades!

In the same Medal of Honor,

Wherever we are, let's move on!

And the devil laughed like this: Hahahahahaha.

We fought for Germany,

For freedom and honor!

We're going to make it so that the enemy can't rest!"

What a good song!, Borol thought, walking on the side of the road with the MP-44 on his back. Behind him was Baru, who carried a G42 machine gun, and then the medics, who had used up all their medicines, followed by one after another disgraced German paratroopers, humming their war songs, moving their dry and peeling lips to show their white teeth.

Yes, we are German paratroopers, we are gods of war from the sky! We are not afraid of death, and we will present victory for the Führer! Borol put his hand in his pocket and touched the identification cards - and so did you.