[World War II] Thousands of Miles in the Sky

Behind him, he suddenly stretched out his arms around Shulikevich, grabbed the barrel of the gun with both hands, and pulled it back hard.Illerman stuck the barrel of the gun in Shurikevich's neck, and took a step back. Shurikevich was staggered unsuspectingly, lost his center of gravity under his feet, and his whole body was under the jaw on the barrel.

The two hid behind the half-closed carriage door. Illerman's chest was pressed against Shurikevich's back, and his hands were relentlessly choking the latter's neck between himself and the barrel of the gun in his hand. between.Shurikevich struggled to break off the gun barrel on his neck, opened his mouth wide, but couldn't make a sound.Soon, the Soviet man in Illerman's arms softened, his hands dropped, and he stopped resisting.Ilerman lightly supported Shulikevich's unconscious body, laid him down slowly, and stretched out his hand to check his breath.Shurikevich, who had passed out, had a calm face, his chest heaving up and down.

"Sorry." Elleman said softly.He put the rifle next to Shulikevich, then turned around and jumped out from the back of the carriage, running wildly regardless.

While Yileman was running, shouts in Russian came from behind, mixed with a few dogs barking faintly.The barking of dogs and the sound of people were getting closer, and Illerman turned around and plunged into a sunflower field by the side of the road.He continued to run among the sunflowers, and the sunflowers as tall as a person covered his figure.The sound of the dog barking became farther away. Illerman stood still and looked back, seeing the boundless sunflowers as far as he could see.He turned around, and there were exactly the same golden flower discs on the front, back, left, and right sides.

The shouts in Russian came closer together with the dogs.

The ground suddenly shook, and Illerman fell unconsciously on the ground, and at the same time there was a deafening explosion.The ground shook as if the end was coming, and the sound of explosions came and went, drowning out the shouts in Russian and the barking of dogs.Illerman covered the back of his head with his hands, raised his head from the ground, and saw that the sky had turned to a cloudy gray at some point, and the air was full of sand and dust from the explosion.A round of blood-colored red sun hung in the sky, and all sounds disappeared in the continuous blasting sound.

Illerman rolled over and lay on his arms at the bottom of the sunflower field, looking up at the sky.After a few minutes, the sound of the explosion seemed to be gradually quieting down, and the sky revealed some of its original color.A neatly arranged fleet passed Illerman's field of vision, which was mostly blocked by sunflowers. Surrounded by seven Messerschmidts, there were several black and gray Sdukas in the middle.

The darkness of silence.The Soviet ground troops stationed nearby during the day seemed to disappear out of thin air, without a sound.Illerman stood up from the flower field, looked at the bright starry sky, turned in one direction, and then ran with his head down.Soon he ran out of the flower field and continued to move forward, leaving the large sunflowers behind.

Under the clear moonlight, Illerman saw a long trench in front of him, and a fortress shape slightly raised from the edge of the trench. Between the rectangular gaps, black muzzles were faintly visible.

He slowed down, tiptoed down, and listened carefully.The content of the vague conversation coming from ahead is unclear, but the solid guttural voice and cadenced rhythm are undeniable.

"Don't shoot!" shouted Illermann, standing up straight. "I'm a German!"

The conversation in the trenches came to an abrupt end, followed by a shout, "Hands up!"

Illerman stood not far from the trench, raising his hands.A lantern suddenly lit up in front of him, and a sentry exposed half of his body from the trench, and placed the lantern on the ground next to the edge of the trench.The other person still remained at the original sentry position, but the gun barrel protruding from the gap was shaking.In the dark night, the red-yellow light of the lantern seemed to be extremely bright, shining on Illerman from a distance, coating his side facing the trench with the color of flames.However, there is still boundless darkness behind him.

"You have no papers?" shouted the sentinel.

"Of course not!" Illerman shouted back. "I escaped after being captured by the Soviets!"

"How do you prove that you are a German?" the sentinel shouted again.

"If I hadn't been a German," Illermann roared, "you would be dead by now!"

The barrel exposed at the gap trembled suddenly, and a gunshot pierced the night sky.

thirty

Illerman looked down and saw a bullet hole that was still smoking in the hem of his trousers bulging beside his calf. The surrounding fabric was scorched black, but there was no trace of blood.Apparently the bullet had passed through the trouser leg next to the skin.

The two sentries in the trench not far away looked at each other, and the tense atmosphere among the three seemed to be shattered by this shot.Suddenly a sentry muttered something in a low voice, turned around and trotted away, probably to report to his superiors.While another sentry with a gun was at a loss, Illerman ran over without hesitation.

Illerman jumped into the trench, raised his hand to hold the hot gun barrel in the sentry's hand, and angrily said, "Can't you tell if I'm a German?! You almost hit me, do you know it!"

The sentinel seemed to be overwhelmed by Illerman's furious expression, and he backed back involuntarily, but he couldn't really back away because the rifle in his hand was held by Illerman.His shoulders trembled, and he raised his hand as if wanting to scratch his hair, but his fingers hit the cold helmet.He uncomfortably pulled the khaki strap on his chin that held the helmet in place, and then he said at a loss, "Sir, I really can't tell, I'm Dutch..."

The anger on Illerman's face suddenly dissipated. He seemed embarrassed to be so aggressive. He let go of the sentry's rifle as soon as he let go: "Which army is this?"

"It's the No.20 [-]rd Armored Division 'Nittland' of the SS," the sentinel said nervously and quickly, "except for the officers who are Germans, all the members are volunteers from the Netherlands."

Illerman frowned, looked at the bewildered sentinel, then looked at the rifle in his hand, and could only say, "I don't want to escape from the Soviets and return to the German front, only to be sent a few guns by my own people." Eat. Be careful, such a dangerous thing."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," the Dutchman hurriedly apologized. Seeing that Illerman didn't respond, he reached out and handed the rifle to Illerman, "Why don't you take it?"

Looking at the sincere face of the Dutchman, Elleman said dumbfoundedly, "No need..."

"Yo, isn't this our 'black devil'."

Illerman looked in the direction of the source of the voice, and saw an SS officer walking out of the thick darkness at the junction of the adjacent trenches.The officer had his hands in his trouser pockets, a chiselled face under his officer's hat, and the hair around the brim had been shaved to reveal his pale skin.He looked about Illeman's age, but had the look of a hawk.He was wearing a jet-black SS uniform, with a black tie under the collar of a brown shirt buttoned to his Adam's apple.Pinned to the left chest is a first-class Iron Cross, with a silver border surrounding the black Iron Cross, glinting coldly.As if he didn't want to show an inch of skin, a black silk scarf was tied around his neck, the end was pressed inside the shirt, and a pin was stuck on the side of his neck.On the needle is a black shield shape with a white pattern on it, which seems to be the logo of the No. 20 Third Armored Division.

When he spoke just now, he bit down the words "black devil" for some reason, and now he was carefully looking at Illeman from head to toe with sharp eyes.

"Dieter Illermann, Air Force 52nd Wing." Illermann said deadpan, looking straight into the deep blue eyes of the SS officer without flinching.

The officer nodded, and then made a tight circle around Illerman without a sound.In the narrow trench, he almost stuck to Illeman, and continued to look up and down carefully at Illeman.When he walked in front of the young pilot again, the officer suddenly stretched out his bony hand and patted the pocket on Illerman's chest, followed by his trouser pocket.

"He doesn't 'look' like a spy." The officer withdrew his hands from his deflated pockets, turned and said indifferently to the Dutch sentinel standing aside.The Sentinel nodded in confusion, but made no further reaction.The officer put the emphasis on the word "looks" this time, and prolonged the sound as if on purpose.

Illerman was clearly holding back his anger, but he just pursed his lips and didn't make a sound.

"I'm looking at you." The officer turned his attention back to Illerman, and his eyes full of evil spirits went straight into Illerman's eyes, as if to pierce him, "Whenever you are over our station, When fighting with enemy planes, I always climbed out of the trench to watch at the risk of exposing myself. At that time, Captain Ernst Jung risked his life to watch the Red Baron in the western battlefield under the British air raid. I think That's all."

He said all this in a rather flat tone, and finally showed an almost malicious smile.

"You're flattered, Mr. Captain," Illerman replied stiffly.His eyes dodged and landed on the badge on the officer's shoulder, hesitation in his voice: "I only hope that one day I can serve our fatherland like the Red Baron."

The officer still didn't take his threatening gaze away from Illerman, still looking directly into the latter's amber eyes, "You have done it. You are a loyal soldier of the Empire, and the one with the highest record of shooting down Fighter pilot."

He paused briefly, then continued: "You are very strange. You are not very active in attacking."

"I only attack when I'm absolutely sure."

The officer nodded again, as if in agreement.Suddenly, he turned his attention to