The chat with the old squad leader came to an end, and the surrounding soldiers who were cleaning up and searching the house were basically busy.
Sulovechenko ordered to take a breather, drink a few sips of water to adjust his condition, and then continue to set off. After all, continuous fighting requires a gap between battles, especially this kind of bloody street fighting, which is like stuffing meat into a meat grinder.
There is no harm in taking a proper breather, but it is beneficial. This is one of the things Alsim has taught Sulovechenko after he was transferred to the Combat Engineer Corps.
"What is written behind this? Is there any content?"
"Um?"
Sulovechenko, who was holding the diary in his hand, planned to go downstairs to take a look. If nothing unexpected happened, he would call the people and get ready to go.
Hearing the old squad leader's curious question and looking at the thing he was still holding in his hand, Sulovechenko felt that there should be some time to satisfy his curiosity and then opened it again.
"Okay, let's see what the naughty young man said next."
"Yeah, it's interesting. This idiot is actually waiting for someone of his own kind."
"ha?"
The old squad leader didn't need to ask any more questions. Sulovechenko, who was squatting on the floor with the corpse at his feet but seemed to turn a blind eye to it, immediately read out the interesting content on the second page of the diary.
March 3rd, sunny.
It's the third day, maybe more. On what day was I captured? Damn it! That torturous bullshit training drove me crazy! Is this going to end? Where are the rescuers? Why are they still there?
No one came to fish me out?
Are those officials trusted by the Führer all stupid pigs? Every day I stay here is a loss for the empire! Damn it!
March 4th, rain.
It rained. I thought this was a good thing. I should be able to sleep in that smelly barracks for a day. Now my whole body hurts! But it turns out that I was wrong and I underestimated the ferocity of those demons.
I trained in pouring rain and mud puddles, well, so-called training.
Just holding that broken gun and crawling in the mud again and again, crawling around like a maggot! How terrible!
I say it again, how many times do you want me to say it again!?
I'm an imperial elite, not those damn lowlifes! Those bugs!
I'm afraid none of the Jews have suffered such torture, right? Maybe there is a traitor among us, controlled by the enemy, and the head of state has been deceived! Those evil people must want to destroy our motherland by treating me and the imperial elite like this.
I was as cold as a molted chicken that had just been fished out of ice water! Then when I returned to the barracks, I saw an even more unbelievable scene. The sky was about to fall!
There is a new guy in the barracks. I have never seen him before. This may not be accurate because I am also new, but he is indeed newer than me because he just arrived today.
He told me that he was the architect of the city hall. Who could believe such a thing?
I laughed at him for deceiving me like a three-year-old child. Not to mention that I didn’t believe this nonsense, even the homeless people on the street probably didn’t believe it.
But who knew that he told me a lot of things and professional knowledge that only people in our field would know. He even knew how many buildings in Berlin were planned and designed. He told me when I couldn’t close my jaw, because that
He was involved in the planning.
Damn it! He’s over fifty! The same age as my father!
Why are such people still being captured and sent to the army? I can’t figure it out, I don’t understand, and I don’t understand.
After chatting with him, I really couldn't sleep, so I went to the radio studio and listened to the radio for a while. This is my only way of entertainment now.
The radio said that the most loyal troops of the Führer had won again, severely defeating Stalin's bandits and leaving their corpses strewn across the fields. More enemies were considering surrender, and the front would soon be able to advance to the gates of Moscow. We would return
That bandit den then wins the war.
I'm looking forward to it, eagerly looking forward to this day coming soon, so that I don't have to be sent to the battlefield. I also want to continue going back to school. I haven't finished writing my graduation thesis yet.
I'm sleepy. I think I've said enough. I hope I won't feel so sore tomorrow.
March 6th, cloudy.
Am I deaf? Or am I hallucinating or auditory hallucinations?
The person in charge of guiding our training is a useless person with no complete parts of his own arm.
He told us that today is the last day of training? Oh, I was so happy that I almost jumped up. Finally, someone came to save me, an elite of the empire.
But this guy followed up and said that he would send me, the old man from the city hall, and all the low-class people to the front lines tomorrow?
Oh my God? Has things reached this point? Why do the Führer's troops still let us go to the battlefield with repeated battles? Shouldn't there be more professional people to do this?
I'm too tired. There must be something wrong somewhere. What I know now shouldn't be true. It must be like this.
I'm going to rest. Tomorrow morning I can get on the car specially picked up and set off back to school.
Maybe I should think about how to write my graduation thesis next. It would be a good idea to fall asleep like this. Good night.
".Is this idiot's head rusty? Why is the writing so messy, with the preface and the follower not matching up, as if he is crazy?"
The old squad leader couldn't bear to listen anymore and couldn't help but complain. He felt that there was no need to continue reading. Sulovechenko, who had already translated nonsense literature, closed the diary.
"The gap from heaven to hell is so big, it's not surprising."
"Yesterday he was a highly envied young talent with a bright future, full of dreams of a bright future and a lot of money from women. What happened? The next day, he was captured by the Nazis and thrown into the mud in a smelly ditch.
After playing games and talking to strong men with a higher social status than him, his "sickness" became even more serious."
Just before closing the diary, Sulovechenko casually flipped through a few pages. Sulovechenko, who was very fast at reading and translating, read ten lines at a glance and roughly understood the following contents in just a few seconds.
What criticism.
"This thing will be like a medical record in a mental hospital in the next few days. This fool even thought that everything he experienced was sleepwalking. Someone fed him an unknown drug to cause him to be like this. When he wakes up,
It’s business as usual.”
"."
The old squad leader, whose consciousness and spirit were "shocked", was speechless. He took the last puff of cigarette from his mouth and stamped out the cigarette butt. After thinking about it, he still had the last trace of curiosity and couldn't help but ask one more question.
"What about the result? What is the final result in the diary?"
"result?"
After hearing this, Sulovechenko turned around and saw at a glance the position of the soldier who had just given him the diary. The searched corpse in the corner was probably not cool yet.
"Well, there it is. Just like the wood in the furnace, after the consumables are burned, there will be some ash left for people to see. The wood approved for high-end furniture is not necessarily more durable than the wood cut from the forest. After it is burned,