To be honest, even Wittmann himself didn't know clearly.
There were so many unexpected things that happened in the day that just passed. The allied forces were very different from what I had imagined before.
This is not to say that the Allied forces were difficult to deal with and their combat power was far superior to the Russians, but Wittmann never imagined that the war pattern on the Western Front battlefield would be like this.
On the first day of the war, our side had no choice but to blow up more than a thousand American prisoners of war into the sky. Counting the number of American soldiers killed in the battle, there were less than 2,000.
This level of casualties is nothing on the Eastern Front battlefield. Let alone a day's battle, it only takes ten minutes to kill nearly 2,000 people when the battle is at its fiercest.
What really makes Wittmann feel a little uneasy and even scared is that the shape of this war has increasingly developed in a twisted and crazy direction. Some terrible things that were unthinkable before may now happen at any time.
Anywhere, anytime, under any unexpected circumstances.
In today's battle, more than a thousand American prisoners of war were killed, all of whom were flown on indigenous planes. But what about tomorrow? What about the future?
Will the number of prisoners of war who died unexpectedly be counted in geometric multiples? Will the Allied forces do the same thing after capturing the German prisoners of war? Will the comrades around me and even myself end up with such an end in the end?
Tossing and turning, Wittmann couldn't fall asleep lying on a simple camp bed. He couldn't help but wonder when he had become so "sentimental" and accustomed to "fantasizing".
Could it have something to do with getting older and no longer being passionate? Or maybe it’s because you’re married and you’re no longer as carefree and reckless as before?
It may be both, no one can say clearly about this kind of thing, not to mention that Wittmann is "only because he is in this mountain".
"Can't sleep?"
Wittmann, who was resting his right hand on the pillow under his ear, was startled. He turned around and saw Enschel sitting next to his bed.
"Oh! I didn't even feel it. You...when did you come here? Aren't you still up so late? There's going to be a war tomorrow!"
He took out the cigarette case and put a cigarette in his mouth, and at the same time threw one to Wittmann. It could be seen that Enschel, who was in good spirits at the moment, then laughed.
"Don't talk about others, aren't you also awake? Or are you saying that you don't have to fight tomorrow?"
"...."
Wittmann pursed his lips as he didn't know how to answer. After all, he couldn't say anything. Instead, he sat up from the bed with a sudden jerk and joined Enschel beside the bed. The relatively sturdy camp bed was enough to support him.
Lift up the weight of these two big men.
"Stop being so grim. Do you need to guess at anything? Everyone knows that this war is getting further and further away from victory. Whether you want to admit it or not, this is a fact."
???
If such words were spoken by others, Wittmann's expression would not be so exaggerated.
But the problem lies precisely in the fact that these words came from Enschel's mouth. In the eyes of almost everyone, Enschel was a complete fanatic, and he actually said such words on his own initiative? How can this be inconsistent with Enschel's words?
Wittmann's impression of Enschel, who was so fanatical and almost rigid, was different.
"Hey, don't look at me with that look. I know you think I'm fanatical. I've heard rumors like this before. The fact is that I am like that. I don't think there's anything wrong with it. I even take it for granted.
Hao. But this is not the reason why my brain lacks IQ. If I still can't see such a clear fact, or deliberately turn a blind eye, wouldn't I be a fool?"
Pfft——
Wittmann really didn't expect that Enschel would be able to say such words at such a time, and the little sleepiness he had felt disappeared without a trace in an instant as he broke into laughter.
"Yes, you are right, it should be so."
While Wittmann was smiling and lighting up his cigarette, Enschel, who was already puffing out smoke, continued to speak.
"No matter what I look like in front of other people, I don't want to hide anything when I'm in front of you. I just want to tell the truth, do real things, and show my truest self. It's also very uncomfortable to wear that mask all day long.
tiring."
"Actually, I am tired of this war. I want to leave this place that is like hell all day long. I want to go back to my hometown, to Munich. I have some land in the countryside that I can farm. I mean I have a farm at home.
The farm. Bertha is too tired to take care of the children and run the farm by herself. I want to go back and help her and fulfill the responsibilities of a husband and father. I have been indebted to them all these years."
Enschel is several years older than Wittmann, who is already a veteran. He is already a 36-year-old veteran this year.
In his early years, he was punished for offending someone he couldn't afford to offend in the National Defense Force. He stayed in the position of second lieutenant for four whole years without changing his rank or position. This was almost unimaginable in the early days of the construction of the National Defense Force, where important veterans were being promoted rapidly.
Yes, it is a very rare case.
Enschel, who did not expect to be promoted in this life, was disheartened, so he simply submitted his resignation and applied for retirement. The petty boss who deliberately put small shoes on him wanted this annoying guy to get out of the way, so he simply agreed to it with a big hand.
After receiving Enschel's resignation, Enschel packed his baggage and embarked on a journey back to his hometown, preparing to return home to farm and enjoy the rest of his life.
But before Enschel had two days to relax at home, the SS gang came to his door and personally visited him and invited him.
Enschel, who was sweating all over that afternoon and working in the fields himself, still didn't quite understand the situation. Why did these guys who were the head of state and pro-military people come to visit him, a little-known man who had been expelled from the Wehrmacht in disguise?
A young lieutenant in the army.
After asking about it, I found out that the SS had been paying attention to him for a long time. They even knew clearly that he was deliberately wearing a shoestring because he offended his superiors and was not promoted for four years. The reason was:
Enschel had won the individual championship in the commander category of the division's armored competition for two consecutive years. The rapidly expanding SS needed talents like him to join.
The SS First Class Assault Squadron leader who led the team promised Enschel a lot of benefits, including but not limited to guaranteed promotion, generous treatment, proper arrangements for his family, high-quality education for his children, etc.
You can even use your network of connections to get revenge on the boss who put his little shoes on, so that the bastard of the Wehrmacht can have a long memory. As long as Enschel himself is willing, he can just nod his head.