[Crossing] Beacon Fire Dragon Line

After burying Herman, Qi Han embarked on a journey back to Germany with his three subordinates.

The Wehrmacht has no command over the SS and dare not take them in casually.What's more, the SS is now on the US military's shoot-to-kill blacklist, and no one wants to have anything to do with them, so as not to be implicated.They had to return to Aachen, the nearest German city, on their own.

After walking for several days without supplies or food, both men and horses were exhausted.

Even Qi Han, who is extremely physically strong, is about to reach his limit.

Even worse than cold and hunger is sleepiness.The snow stretched endlessly in front of his eyes, sleepiness was like a wet shroud, wrapping around him mindlessly, making him feel that he could fall headlong at any time and never have to get up again.

Only at this time, he will feel that the Endymion plan is not so terrible, at least he can sleep enough without being disturbed.

When an abandoned forest cabin appeared in front of them, all of them unanimously decided to spend the night here to relieve their physical strength.

The cabin was empty, everything that could move had been taken away.But at least it can keep out the wind and snow, and it is much warmer than outside.

Sergeant Fritz and another recruit, John, were in charge of guarding in the first half of the night, so Qi Han and Nightingale could rest for a while.

Because of Herman's death, Nightingale was hit hard and snuggled up to Qi Han like a child.

"Sir, I'm hungry," he said softly.

Qi Han fumbled all over his pockets, except for a pack of cigarettes, there was only a piece of chewing gum left.

He handed it to Nightingale.Not sure if chewing gum on an empty stomach is a good idea, but it's the only thing I can eat right now.

Nightingale silently peeled off the wrapping paper and put the gum in her mouth.

Qi Han picked up the pack of cigarettes.He was not addicted to cigarettes, and he didn't even open the package, and the seal of the Third Reich was still pasted on it.He pulled one out and lit it with a lighter.

I wanted to use smoking to relieve my hunger, but it turned out that this method was not effective.Smoking on an empty stomach sucks.I don't know if it's because of inhaling the cold air, but it feels like a big lump of lead has been pressed in my stomach, and I feel nauseous all the time.He quickly stubbed out the cigarette again.

"Sir, do you have a brother?" Nightingale asked suddenly.

After a second pause, Qi Han replied: "No."

"Your personality is very similar to my brother." Nightingale recalled her brother.Not talkative, but very gentle and caring.

He continued: "I also joined the SS because of my brother. My dad loved Germany and always said we should fight for Europe."

The logic of this sentence is very strange, but Qi Han didn't ask any questions.

After a while, Nightingale fell asleep.

Qi Han covered him with his coat, sat curled up by the wall with his legs crossed, put his chin on his knees, and slowly dozed off.

Sheng Rui's face appeared in front of his eyes again.

...don't know what he's doing at the moment.It should be in a room somewhere, lying on a warm bed.

Qi Han thought dimly and fell into a dream.

He didn't know that just a few kilometers away from him, Sheng Rui was trekking hard in the wind and snow.

Throughout December, American and German forces fought each other on the plains of the Ardennes.The U.S. gradually gained the upper hand and began to push the Germans back east of the Rhine.

Sheng Rui's company has also gone through several large and small battles.In a small-scale encounter yesterday, their squad fell behind the main force, and now they are hurrying to hurry.

"Let's work harder, we are not far away from the main force!" Harold, who was walking in the front, looked back to encourage morale.That's what he said hours ago.

Sheng Rui lowered his head and took steps mechanically.The legs and feet that were about to lose consciousness caused a heavy numbness to the whole body, as if a piece of ice had been stuffed into the chest cavity, squeezing the remaining heat in the lungs.Every time I breathe, I feel like I'm being frozen a little bit from the inside out.

"Keepgoing. Keepgoing." He whispered to himself.

"What are you talking about?" Harold asked.

"Nothing. My own little spell."

He has a habit of saying this sentence whenever he feels uncomfortable.For him, it seemed to have some kind of magical power, which would dispel the restlessness in his heart.

The origin of this mantra was mentioned when he was in his fourth year of college.One day I encountered an emergency and had to go to Boston immediately.I don't know which tendon had a problem at the time, but he thought it was the most convenient way to go by car.As it turned out later, this was a completely foolish decision.

Before leaving New Jersey, he already had some regrets.Even for an experienced driver, the night-time round trip of more than ten hours is too much.But he didn't dare to leave the interstate highway casually, fearing that he wouldn't be able to find a gas station and break down in a place where birds didn't lay eggs, so he gritted his teeth.

It was early morning when we returned.There is a long stretch of road with no rest area, and the stretch of road in the night seems endless.He was terrified every time a large car passed by, fearing they would skid and roll over, crushing him.

To make matters worse, even when he returned to Philadelphia, he still couldn't rest.His apartment was burglarized and he had to deal with the police and his landlord.His stomach problem broke out again, and he made an appointment to go to the hospital for a review.Then I have to call my father in the Cold War and find a way to persuade him to end the economic sanctions against him, otherwise he will have to go to the streets to drink.I have to rush to the court before twelve noon to prepare to appear in court.

The reason for going to court is actually a trivial matter: there is something wrong with the item he bought, and he asked to change it, but the merchant's attitude was very bad, so he sued them in a fit of anger.At this moment, he felt a little regretful, thinking why bother to cause such trouble for himself, did he think his life was not chaotic enough?

These are nothing more than ordinary trivial matters, but at that moment, it seems that the despair of the whole world is concentrated together.He suddenly felt that his whole life would be imprisoned on this dark and deep road, and he would never find an exit.

In the end, he suppressed all these thoughts, forgot all his troubles, and let only one voice echo in his mind: keep going, keep going.

Don't think too much about anything, just keep going.One kilometer, one kilometer, another kilometer.There's always light, there's always Philadelphia, there's always trouble.

Later, all these troubles resolved themselves one by one as time went on.And that highway somehow stayed deep in his heart, and from then on, all the difficulties he had to face in his life were extensions of that highway.

Most of the pain in everyone's life comes from small things.However, it is these insignificant things and momentary emotions that accumulate little by little the way a person understands the world, and eventually become part of his own personality.

What one does with one's insomnia, stomach bugs, and migraines, one does with earthquakes, hurricanes, and wars.The man who drove alone at night on the I-95 highway many years ago, and the man who is now carrying the M1A1 on the snowy night on the Western Front, are somehow in the same line.

After passing through a forest, Harold decided to take a rest here.They dug several foxholes in the lee for temporary camps.

Harold looked around, and suddenly turned back to Sheng Rui nervously: "Ray, look over there."

Sheng Rui looked in the direction he pointed, and there was a small wooden house in a hidden place in the distance, with a few horses tethered beside it.

"Are those the horses that broke through our line of defense a while ago?"

"Who knows. It can't be such a coincidence." Sheng Rui felt that the horses all looked similar.

Harold narrowed his eyes for a while, "No mistake. I was scared to shit at the time, so I remember it very clearly."

"..." Sheng Rui has indeed heard that people have a particularly good memory when they are frightened. "What do you want?"

Harold thought for a moment.If it was really the group of German soldiers, they should be wiped out here, and such terrible guys cannot be allowed to wander around the US military base.

But they are now limited in strength, and it is inconvenient to confront them head-on.That rider was so powerful, as long as he swiped his gun horizontally, the few people in his area would all lie down.

How can we safely get rid of that guy?

Looking at the Springfield A4 rifle in his hand, Harold had an idea.

As soon as it was dawn, Nightingale and John built a bonfire outside the cabin and put their helmets on it to boil snow water.

The two of them did it secretly.Originally, Qi Han was supposed to be on duty in the middle of the night, but Nightingale saw that he was sleeping deeply, so she didn't wake him up.

Nightingale knew that their warrant officer was so tired these days that he hardly ate, drank, slept or slept.

Although they can't get food, at least they can let the warrant officer and the sergeant drink a sip of hot water, which will make them feel better.

The four eyes of the two were fixed on the steaming helmet, as if a pot of fragrant broth was boiling inside.No one noticed that there were two unremarkable snow bags more than 200 meters away.

Harold and Sheng Rui have been lying in ambush under these two snow packs for a long time, ready to kill these German soldiers by sniping.

In this regard, the US military is not as well-known as Germany and Russia, but it is not a blank slate.For example, the Springfield A4 that Harold was holding was a dedicated sniper rifle.

Harold has rich experience and acts as a sniper, and Sheng Rui acts as a scout.

Compared with sniping, it is more difficult to lurk in the early stage.The body can be hidden in a foxhole, but for reconnaissance, the head above the eyes must be exposed.

So they figured out a way to cover the helmet with the white cotton underpants inside the combat uniform—actually, the standard long johns of the U.S. Army—fixed with the camouflage net attached to the helmet, and sprinkled some snow on it.

If there is another choice, Sheng Rui certainly doesn't want to do it.Which president would put long johns on his head?

But there was no way, the current equipment they could use did not include snow camouflage suits.

Harold, who also put on the long johns, made a simple tripod with pine branches, put the Springfield A4 on it, and stretched out the muzzle of the gun from a small hole in the middle of the snowdrift, aiming at the hut in the distance.

Sheng Rui was lying not far from him, with binoculars in front of his eyes.A camouflage cover is made of cloth on the body of the cylinder to prevent the reflection of the lens from being discovered.

When it was almost dawn, there was movement from the cabin.

He saw through the binoculars that two SS soldiers came out, built a fire outside the house, and boiled snow in their helmets.