[World War II] Thousands of Miles in the Sky

Hello Dieter. "

Folk put his arms around his sister's neck from behind, and talked to Illerman through her: "The Air Force Second Academy is nearby, right? The weather in Berlin is very suitable for flying."

"Yes." Illerman replied a little uncomfortably, paused, and then said cautiously, "I heard that you...you are very good, in the North African battlefield. Even General Rommel admires you very much."

Folk smiled happily and said, "Am I in the magazine again? It's okay, not that exaggerated. But the general is really kind."

"Get up and drive." Inge pulled his brother's arm off his shoulder in dissatisfaction, looked at the other end of the waiting platform, and then turned to him and said, "The car is here."

"Then let's go back first, and mom will be in a hurry later." Foko took Inger's hand and curled the corner of his mouth at Illerman, "I'll play with you when I have time!"

two

The evening in early autumn is cool and refreshing.It's just that the guards on duty have sober minds and have nothing to do at this time.He propped his forehead with one hand, flipping through the brochure boredly, absently scanning the recent heroic deeds of several generals listed on the page.New strategic moves and victorious battles have nothing to do with him at all, and can be read to pass the time.Just when he started to feel drowsy, his wandering thoughts were suddenly pulled back by a knocking sound.

"What to do!" The guard got up from his seat and opened the window.

The person who just knocked on the glass looked at the guard confidently: "Open the door, I want to go in."

"who!"

"My own." The young man was wearing an ordinary light-colored suit, with a polka-dot pattern silk scarf tied around his neck exposed at the neckline, and a dark long coat over his neck, lazily putting his hands in the coat pockets.

"Where did it come from! Without the instructions of the chief, ordinary people can't just go in."

"27th Air Force Wing, North Africa." The young man shrugged.

"That's not okay, there is no instruction..."

"What about this?" The young man took out something from his pocket and held it up in front of the guard.The new black ironwork has a swastika in the center, 1939 on the bottom, and a silver trim around it, shining brightly.

"Iron Cross?!" The guard said in surprise.

"First class." The young man waved the cross-shaped medal in front of the guards before taking it back and putting it in his pocket, "You can ask the commander of the school to come out, and I will talk to him myself to see if he will let me go in."

"Then..." The guard hesitated for a moment.The first-class Iron Cross, which shows outstanding performance on the front line, still has the deterrent power it deserves.

"What's your name, I'll register your ID." The guard finally gave in.

"Hayo Foko." The young man said, handing over a driver's license, and pointing to a photo of a general in a brochure spread out on the table, "This is my father."

Foko triumphantly swung the hem of his coat and strode up the dormitory building.Rounding the corner on the second floor, he stopped in front of a room door.Without knocking on the door, he turned the doorknob through his coat with his hand still in his pocket, and kicked the door open.The student who was working hard at the desk in the door was startled, immediately put down his pen and turned around.

"Heil Hitler." Folk walked over, raising his right arm in front of Illermann.

"Heil Hitler." Illermann quickly stood up and returned the salute.

"Still working so hard on weekends?" Foco bypassed Illerman and walked to the desk, looked down at the thick textbooks on top, and reached out to flip through two pages.

"Why are you here?" Illerman asked, unable to hide the surprise in his words.He looked closely at Foko, who was more handsome than the small photo in the print, standing in front of him at this moment.He blinked in disbelief.

"I said I wanted to play with you." Foco showed a sly smile, "Aren't you going out with me?"

"Where are you going?" Elleman asked.

Foucault couldn't help but put the books on the table together: "Except for the Air Force Academy in the southwestern suburbs of Berlin, there are gatherings of Air Force officers everywhere. Change your clothes quickly."

The sun was almost setting.The afterglow casts on the roof of the mansion, stretching the shadow on the grass in the front yard obliquely.As soon as Foco got out of the car, he raised his hand to signal Illerman to follow, and then walked quickly to the door, pushing the door without knocking.

The low piano music came, and Illeman followed Foko in, only to see a man who looked like an officer playing the piano in a corner of the hall.A portrait of Adolf Hitler and the swastika flag hung high in the hall, and there were scattered military officers in smart uniforms, most of whom were chatting with girls holding goblets.Apparently the party hasn't arrived yet.

The person playing the piano was wearing a military uniform, his blue-gray coat was open, and the lapel of his suit blocked the silver-white wingtip of the eagle emblem on his right breast.The silver chain hangs from the epaulet on the right shoulder to the ribs, around the eagle emblem, and disappears under the cover of the lapel.The outer edge of the collar is inlaid with a layer of silver, and the rows of buttons on both sides of the placket are shining silvery white under the light.Inside the coat is a pure white dress shirt, with several decorative folds on the chest, and a white bow tied on the collar; under the bow is a black, white and red ribbon, and a cleanly wiped ribbon hangs down. Ankh.

The body of the piano is also wiped clean, and the light can be seen.The feet that step on the pedals under the grand piano are knee-high boots, and the black leather is not stained with dust.

He stared at the front half-seeing, occasionally closing his eyes, completely immersed in the contact between his fingertips and the keys.The piece played was Morse Ravel's Casper in the Night: Narcissus.The sound of the piano is light but not erratic, and the compact tunes are layered on top of each other, and the hands of the piano player also jump back and forth greatly.As the movement reached its climax, his fingers flew over the keys more and more quickly, and the complicated melody flowed out from his fingertips with ease.

Foucault unceremoniously picked up two glasses full of cocktails from the side table, handed one to Illerman, and led him to the piano, watching the live performance with great interest.

The officer didn't seem to notice their existence at all, and played on his own.His speed gradually slowed down, the notes became rarer, the rhythm slowed down, and his voice became lighter.After the music stopped completely, it revived suddenly, and after a short and powerful melody, it ended completely.The officer's fingertips were still on the keys, and he quietly let out a long breath.It seemed that the ending was still lingering in the air, and the officer waited until the remaining aftertaste dissipated before gently withdrawing his hand.

Foco pinched the stem of the cup, and tapped the palm of the other hand with the remaining three fingers, applauding a few times.The officer looked up at Foko, smiled faintly, stood up and raised his right arm: "Heil Hitler."

"Long live the Führer." Foco also raised his hand in return, but in the next second he directly grabbed the opponent's right hand with his raised right hand, "Duke!"

"Hayo." The Duke lowered his arm and held Foco's hand tightly, "Long time no see. Are you on vacation?"

"Emile seven for Friedrich four, I have nothing to do recently." Fuke replied.

"So you sneaked out to play?" The Duke smiled a few times, nodded, and asked again: "Is it easy for Emil to drive?"

"Of course. Nothing else," Folk said without hesitation.

The Duke didn't reply, just let go of Foco's hand and patted him on the shoulder.

"Don't mess around with nothing all day long, and be careful to cause trouble again." The Duke said, "Do you still remember that you landed in the middle of your first long-distance solo flight training without permission, and when you took off again, the ground air current almost knocked over the heads of several farmers? What happened? Later, they sued the commander of the military academy and revoked the right to fly."

"The duke really has a good memory. I can always remember anything I told you once." Foco said lightly, and changed the subject, "This is Dieter Illermann, a student of the Air Force Second Academy. Dieter, this This is Captain Franz Xavier von Farrey, Duke."

Feng Farui nodded to Illerman, and then said to Foko: "The 27th Regiment 'North Africa' has been doing well recently?"

"It's not as majestic as the 'Spades' of the 53rd regiment." Foco raised the corner of his mouth.

"Okay," Feng Farui reached out and pushed Foco's shoulder, "You don't need to flatter me."

"You are the Feng Farui who escaped from the POW camp?" Illerman couldn't help interjecting.

"Besides me, the Air Force probably doesn't have a second Duke von Farrell." Von Farrell raised his eyebrows in surprise, looked at Illerman sincerely, and added patiently, "There will be no second Axis member. safe escape from a Canadian POW camp."

Illerman was about to continue talking, but was interrupted by the voice of a young woman beside him: "Hayo!"

The woman held the wine glass in one hand, and the other hand was already on Foko's neck.She has short curly blonde hair, a dark red low-cut evening dress, revealing the delicate skin of her shoulders; a string of pearl necklaces and pearl earrings are simple but elegant, big moving eyes, a straight nose, just right The makeup and slender figure all prove that she is an uncompromising beauty.

"Lise!" Foco put his arms around her waist generously, and pressed a kiss on her lips.

She turned her head and smiled charmingly at Fon Farrell and Illerman, and pulled Foco away; Foco disappeared with her into the crowd without saying a word.There were already quite a number of people in the banquet hall, and the record was played at some point, and the music was slowly flowing from the phonograph's loudspeaker.

"Lise Keug, his girlfriend." Feng Farui put his hands shallowly in his trouser pockets, and seeing the complicated expression on Illerman's face, he asked again, "Why?"

"One of the girlfriends," Illerman said.

Feng Farui couldn't help laughing: "You still understand