[World War II] Thousands of Miles in the Sky

Sir, stay with the 51st Wing.He also participated in Operation Barbarossa on the Eastern Front in June this year, and shot down more than 51. He is the recipient of the Knight's Iron Cross with a leaf inlaid image. The [-]st regiment was able to become the first regiment to reach [-] kills, and his trump card is indispensable. "

"But I haven't been on the battlefield since a serious takeoff accident on August [-] last year." Pete Canin slightly raised his head to look at the darkening sky, and slowly put away his smile.

"I am German. I am half-Scottish, with an English name, and a Scottish title; but in the end I am only a German, half-Scottish, with an English name, and a Scottish title. England and Germany have always been Allies separated by a strip of water, no matter how this war proceeds, Britain and Germany are bound to join hands to deal with the Soviet Union in the future." Peter Cain said, "I'm afraid you and I will never see that day."

After he finished speaking, he smiled at Illerman and turned to leave.

"Sir!" cried Illerman, "you will live to see the end of the war."

Peter Kane didn't turn around, but just raised his right hand: "Heil Hitler."

"Heil Hitler." Illermann raised his right arm and responded to Peter Cain's back.

In Neustadt on the Rhine, even the evening breeze is damp.Illerman walked across the square unhurriedly.The merchants and shops have already turned off their lights and closed their doors, only the orange street lights that are quite far apart are lit up lonely.The misty blue sky is not only like a layer of thin clouds blocking the moonlight, but also like night fog covering the bright sky.The November night was falling early, and the surrounding scenery was slowly darkening.

Illerman put his hands in his coat pockets and tapped his boots on the stone pavement.There was no expression on his young face, his eyelids drooped slightly, and his amber eyes looked ahead lightly.His eyebrows were slightly raised, like Bernini's statue of David, and his handsome face carved out of marble carried a serious expression that almost didn't match his age.He passed a bookstore, and his figure in a coat was reflected in the glass window.He lowered his head to avoid the hanging shop name signboard, and briefly glanced at the glass, but his eyes did not stay on his reflection in the reflection.

The pointed roof with layers of brown tiles, the staggered stripes on the beige-painted walls are like the flying buttresses on Gothic architecture, and they are arranged as supportive decorations; The name of the hotel is written in lacquer type.Illerman turned into the dark but dry hallway.He raised his hand and knocked on the wooden door, and the old man under the dim light slowly moved his eyes away from the newspapers spread on the table.

"I'm looking for Miss Patrik." Ellerman stopped for a moment as he passed by the old man, and walked towards the stairs.

"She's not here," said the old man.

"Not here?"

"She's gone out." The old man slowly turned his head, looked at the rows of keys hanging on the wall beside him, and nodded.

Illerman frowned slightly, turned and walked in front of the old man.

"Goed out with a man." The old man looked up at Illerman, his wrinkled face and gray hair, and his light blue eyes became clearer and more transparent, as if they were the only part of his body that hadn't aged.However, he lowered his head to read the newspaper again, and stretched out his hand to support the thick lenses on the bridge of his nose.

Illerman hesitated to speak, turned and walked out.A little light diffused from behind him, casting his figure vaguely on the ground.His exhaled breath turned into shallow white smoke.He leaned against the wall by the hotel door and looked up at the sky.It was already dark.The early winter sun disappeared early.He closes his eyes.The night in the new city is quieter than that in the suburbs of Berlin. The slightly humid atmosphere in the air overwhelms the pedestrians, and it is bone-chillingly cold.He let out a long breath, and slowly raised his eyes to look at the sky.The stars scattered all over the sky with varying brightness and darkness, out of reach.He stared blankly at the train tracks not far away, his eyes gradually drifting away with the railway track.He took out a cigarette case from his pocket and struck a match.

The night is shrouded, and the bleak branches are swaying empty, with a cool feeling.Illerman exhaled a puff of smoke slowly, half-watching as it rose and drifted into the evening wind.With the other hand in his pocket, he lowered his head and stared motionlessly at the slow-burning cigarette sandwiched between the index and middle fingers of his right hand, his amber eyes reflected a little sadness.He suddenly smiled.But that smile disappeared suddenly, like soot falling from his hand, scattered on the stone road illuminated by street lamps, and disappeared without a trace.He gazed for a long time at the vault on the fourth floor of the building across the street.The blue-colored roof of the Byzantine style shrinks and gathers at the tip, but extends upwards. The four-corner prisms set up a bronze-colored sphere, and the pointed cone shape on top protrudes vertically, piercing into the sky, like a knight's sword. .There was the sound of a plane's engine, and Illerman raised his head without thinking, searching aimlessly in the faintly starry night sky.As far as the eyes can see, there is only an endless darkness, only the noise tearing the air is gradually fading away, like whimpering, slowly disappearing.

He shrank his neck, turned up the collar of his leather jacket, and tightened the buckle under the collar.The flame of the cigarette tail in his hand flickered, but he was staring at the end of the street, his right hand was only raised in the air in front of his chest, not close to his mouth.There was a sound of a car motor, and he turned his head suddenly, only to see a lonely car rushing by, and it disappeared before it was completely revealed from the night.Illerman lowered his head in a sense of loss, staring fixedly at the asphalt road in front of him.When the cigarette in his hand was extinguished, he loosened his fingers, and the cigarette butt fell to the ground without looking away.There was another sound of motors, approaching from far away.Illerman didn't move, until the source of the voice stopped firmly in front of him, and then raised his head as if awakened from a dream.

In front of him was a brand-new black car, a model favored by officers in Berlin, which looked out of place in the secluded new town.The co-pilot's door opened, and the person who got out of the car was a young man dressed in an authentic British style.There was a small Union Jack badge on his jacket, and he was holding a Humboldt hat in his hand. His hair combed back was long and fluttered slightly in the night wind.He turned and opened the rear door, a brunette woman put her hand on the arm of the man who opened the door, and jumped out of the car lightly.Her hair just past her shoulders was loose, without combing the traditional braided hair of German women. She was wearing a long skirt with white heels and elegant beige mid-heel shoes exposed under the skirt.There is a smile in her eyes, and a ostentatious lipstick on her lips, but she is not dusty, and she is still the youth and shyness of a girl.

Illerman stared at her intently.Under the light of the street lamp, the woman's face was as glaring as an old film that had been overexposed.When she saw Illeman standing in the shadows by the wall not far in front of her, a smile suddenly appeared on her lips, making her look extraordinarily moving.Before she could speak, the man next to her closed the car door behind her and turned around. At the same time, Illerman stepped forward and punched him hard under the left collarbone.

"Dieter!" Úrsula exclaimed.

The handsome man who opened the door for her just now had a look of surprise on his face, he clenched his teeth involuntarily and gasped for air, but he dodged to protect her, blocking Illerman's piercing gaze towards her.

Illerman grabbed the man's collar with both hands, turned around and pressed him against the wall.The man who was pushed and staggered a few steps leaned his back against the wall, and looked at the face that Illerman was about to touch in embarrassment.

"Hayo Foko!" Illeman glared at him, and said in a voice almost forced out of his throat, "Let me see you messing with my woman again, even if you You are the number one trump card in the Air Force, and I can't spare you!"

Folk stared blankly at Illerman, his brows were slightly frowned, and there seemed to be pain in his eyes.But he didn't say anything, and lowered his eyes to look at the ground beside him.

There was a "bang" behind Illerman, and the sound of the car door being slammed shut, and he let go of his grip on Foco's collar.Foco shook his head at the tall man who just got off the driver's seat, and walked quickly to the co-pilot's door without waiting for him to come forward.He leaned on the doorknob with his right hand and turned to look at Ursula, only to see Ileman angrily pulling her wrist and walking towards the door of the hotel.As if aware of the gaze behind him, Illman stopped in his tracks, turned his head and glared at Foco before turning around and leaving.

Foco withdrew his gaze and bit his lower lip hard.The man who had already opened the driver's door was wearing a dark gray suit, leaning against the body, with one hand on the car frame, silently looking at Foco.

"Karl," Foucault said with a final sigh, weakly, "let's go."

Seven

"What are you doing!" Ursula seemed to have finally come to her senses, and angrily shook off Illerman's hand.The old man sitting in the corner under the dim light looked up when he heard the sound, Ursula quickly turned her head and smiled apologetically at him, then hurried up the stairs.Yileman didn't bother to ask any more questions, and hurriedly followed behind.

Úrsula took out the key and opened the door, went to the window and sat down, looking out the window in silence.Illerman closed the door softly before coming over and sitting on the chair opposite her.

"Usu." He said softly.

Úrsula did not answer.Illerman looks around uncomfortably, then returns to her.The furnishings in the room were simple and clean, the tables and chairs were made of wood, and the white curtains hanging behind Ursula were motionless and silent.Illerman stared at her turned away face, and the blush on her cheeks from anger, and after a moment, he lowered his head.The night outside the window is thick, and the sparse buildings not far away are faintly showing half outlines beside the street lamps, surrounded by dark trees.Feeling his gaze, Wusu stretched his hands and straightened the hem of the skirt.Illerman no longer had the aura just now, and his breathing was slow.