German supremacy

When Vogel opened his eyes, he thought he was still in a dream.

The sun shone gently on his face, warm and soft.It reminded him of the blooming daffodils and cornflowers in Württemberg, his sister sitting on the grass eating raspberries while he sat beside him reading a book, and when he was tired he could close his eyes and sleep for a while.

This fantasy made him forget for a moment that he was at war, and the sun had not shone on the land for two months.

The smell of gunpowder in the air quickly pulled him out of his dream.

He sat up and looked at his hands in a daze.

He just killed a Frenchman.Use these hands.

The Frenchman looked like a recruit, he might not have been fully trained, and he looked at him with panicked blue eyes with a slightly crooked helmet, trying to drive his own bayonet into his heart.Suddenly, an untimely pity and tolerance rose in Vogel's heart. When the panicked soldier tried to stab into his body, ('Actually, he stabbed sideways. That's why he is sitting here now .')Sighed.

How can you stab someone's heart?The ribs would catch the knife, he thought.

Almost gently, he stabbed the knife into the child's stomach.I gently, he thought, just stab him lightly, just to immobilize him, without killing him.Just let him fall to the ground, the French will carry him away, he is still a child, he should live longer.

The French boy looked at Vogel's gentle face in horror and fear, his expression twisted.He bumped forward, and the bayonet went through him, and blood flowed from his mouth, and his eyes fell silent.He seemed to read something in French in Vogel's ear, and the bayonet in his hand stabbed Vogel's ribs in vain and firmly.

Vogel's heart gradually became cold with the stiffness of the boy in front of him, and the heat in his whole body seemed to be lost along with the blood flowing from the insignificant wound on the rib.He shivered from the cold, a suppressed and ambiguous growl came out of his throat, and his heart was crumpled like a rag.

He slowly and solemnly withdrew the knife from the boy's body, and the blood in the boy's body flowed out like a dredged pipe.The red color made Vogel feel dizzy. His bayonet, fingers and clothes were stained with the youth's life. His fingers trembled, the bayonet broke free from his hand, and fell to the ground guided by gravity.

No one will pay attention here, now is not the time for war.

He had only met this French teenager, who might have been walking, during a break.

He fell to his knees and wept.

Even if he wanted to kill him, Vogel still felt a surge of sadness, like a sudden heavy rain, hitting the ground.

He carefully helped him put his hands together, and put a cornflower he just found in it.He took off his military cap and silently mourned for this young life piously and tenderly. 'May you rest in peace. ' he whispered.

How ironic, he thought.I killed him while silently praying for him.

He stared blankly at his hands.

This was the first person he had killed. Although in the army, not everyone had the opportunity to stab someone in the stomach with a bayonet immediately and easily to kill them, especially he seldom rushed to the front.

Why a teenager?He thought, why is it a child who doesn't know?

He thought of the frightened blue eyes of the boy.It reminded him of her sister.

His body trembled uncontrollably from guilt.I killed a boy.His teeth chattered slightly, a child who shouldn't be on the battlefield.

'This sergeant,' said the military doctor, 'if you wake up, please leave, we are running out of beds. '

'certainly. Vogel stood up in a panic, "I'm sorry. '

He suddenly felt someone watching him.

He turned around and broke into a pair of indifferent eyes.

Neumann Scheiber.