Living in Caoying, heart in Han

"This is my story. My father used a beautiful lie to protect me during the darkest years. So far, when I think back to my childhood experience, what I remember in my mind is joy and happiness.

But my impression of Langlot is only the unexpected food in those days, fruit, small cakes, biscuits and candy, sometimes he can even give me a bacon sandwich, every time I see him, it means Delicious snacks are coming.

However, I can deeply remember the appearance of those foods and their aroma, and I can remember the eagerness to look forward to Langlot's arrival every day, but I can't remember Langlot's appearance, his facial features seem to be in the years Become hazy in the transpiration.

It wasn't until a while ago that I finally got a copy of a photo of Langlot right out of school, before he went to war.He was indeed a handsome man, but I always felt that the Langlot I remembered was different from the picture.

Without Langlot, our family would never have escaped safely from the concentration camp, nor would we have been able to reunite and spend the rest of our happy time together—my great-uncle survived the war for another ten years and finally died in the Accompanied by his relatives, he passed away peacefully, with almost no regrets in his life.

And my father reopened his bookstore after the war, and he tried to write a book for Langlot, but every time he sat down at the typewriter, his eyes would go blank and he would start remembering, and then he would have a look on his face. It's a kind of interesting smile, a kind of smile that makes people feel warm when they look at it, and you can tell that this person is caught in some of the best memories in the past.

My father often sat all afternoon without writing a single word.

So the plan for this book has been shelved again and again. He always clamors that one day he will write a good book for Langlot, so that others will know what Langlot has done, his courage, his integrity, and his integrity. Funny, and his sacrifice.

My father spent the rest of his life, apart from being with his family, dedicated to restoring Langlot's honor.Officially, Langlot Rheinsis was a German Nazi killed by the U.S. Army, a well-deserved race war fighter.

No one knew that it was Langlot who intercepted the camp guards that night, saving truckloads of Jews from the final massacre.

No one knows how he did it alone. In my father's narrative, he seems to be like an ancient hero who faced the fate of destruction alone. He walked into the final night with wounds and weapons, and then I couldn’t come back either. My father handed me over to my mother after dawn, and I searched among the corpses of the German army alone.

He found the battered body, but had no time to bury him, because Americans have a uniform burial point for the dead.

Since then, my father has been telling the story of Langlot. He tried to prove to everyone that Langlot was a hero and not a butcher. Unfortunately, he failed to persuade the authorities, even though it took him a long time to find the former inmates. Jointly wrote letters to the local government and German officials, but all these letters fell into the sea in the end, and no one wanted to justify a Nazi.

The only one who unilaterally contacted Langlot was Mivis, who could prove his innocence. He died under the guns of the Nazis before the arrival of the Allied forces.

Yes, traitors appeared in the Rebel Alliance, and the crazy Nazis finally pulled them back. This is why they received the news from Langlot but did not come to support them, because they were almost all killed themselves.

After the war, Langlot's mother was put under the administration of the Soviets. A Berlin Wall prevented my father from looking for her. He spent all his energy trying to find Ms. Rhinesis in East Germany. Failed to do this.

In the end, Langlot's mother died before Germany was reunified, and she did not receive Langlot's last words until her death.

My father passed away a few years ago, and he passed away very peacefully. There were only two regrets in his life that he failed to do: one was that he could not meet Langlot's mother and personally convey to her Langlot's message before he left; The second is to rectify Langlot's name. He should be classified as an anti-fascist martyr who died heroically, not a fascist who was killed by the Allied forces.

And I inherited my father's behest.

When I finally crossed the fallen Berlin Wall, I found out that Langlot's mother was dead, but I got in touch with her sisters and told them about Langlot.

The rest of Langlot's family said they would vindicate the family hero.Although the older inmates passed away, there were always people alive, and my father also left a testimony.I've got to settle this matter in my lifetime and give Langlot his due.

History has passed, and the truth has been gradually obliterated by time, just as no one knows why Langlot was determined to break with Nazi Germany, why did he have the courage to stand up and resist alone, and what kind of person is he?Perhaps all of this will eventually become a secret, and I will always leave the last trace to commemorate his sacrifice.

I would like to thank my editor BJD for his help, my father's inmates for their support and memories, and Mr. Oskar Schindler for his reply and support to my father.

I would like to dedicate this book to Lanlot Rhinesis, the righteous men of the Italian Rebel League, my great father, and thousands of compatriots who have suffered with us

—Your little Joshua back then. "

The man who finished writing the last paragraph stood up and stretched his slightly stiff body. The children in the garden were running and playing and playing. The wife in a long pink dress looked at the two children tenderly, calling from time to time to let them Be careful.The sun shines through the cloudless sky on the rose petals in the garden, and the dew on the silk petals is crystal clear.

The man couldn't help showing a gentle smile, hastily put an old black and white photo of a young graduate in a suit in a thick folder, picked up the coat on the chair, walked out of the study, and kissed his wife After a while, he chased the laughing children and shouted: "Millie, Langlot, I'm here, come here..."

But the children looked at each other, squeaked, ran faster, and played eagle and chicken with their father.

The sun shines through the window on the thick pile of folders, and on the unfinished half black and white graduation photo - the handsome and tall Germanic youth in the photo smiles as before, with unlimited ambitions for the future and longing.