The supply of food from the rear still hadn't arrived, so Lin had no choice but to close his eyes and avoid looking at those lucky comrades who managed to drink hot soup. Inside might just be a few pieces of vegetable leaves and a few crumbs of bread, but in such harsh conditions, they were considered precious! Before long, the sound of panicked shouting suddenly came from the trench. As Lin quickly crawled out from the trench, the eerie wail of the hand-cranked air raid siren echoed in the air.
What came into view was a squadron of dark green aircraft flying low. Lin squinted, trying to discern whether they were fighters or bombers. At that moment, someone in the trench suddenly cheered loudly. Turning around, Lin saw two gray-green camouflaged fighters flying in from the opposite direction. They were agile and swift, seemingly fast, and in the blink of an eye, they flew over the position with the iron cross emblem under their wings, shining like stars in the night sky!
For the first time in two days, seeing their own aircraft, many soldiers in the trench joined in the cheers, some even waving their arms excitedly. The two German fighters, with their melodious humming, rushed towards the Soviet aircraft and opened fire with their machine guns. Since it was daytime, from the ground, only the tracer rounds could be vaguely distinguished as they headed towards the Soviet aircraft. The six Soviet planes immediately maneuvered and dodged, but the first shots from the German planes failed to down any enemy aircraft. This made the German soldiers watching from the ground, including Lin in the trench, tense. Despite being outnumbered two to one, the German planes quickly pulled up, their climb rate and agility far surpassing their opponents. Forming a staggered formation, they locked onto one of the green Soviet planes and pursued it. The Soviet fighter, realizing it was being pursued, changed course and flew level. This tactic proved effective, as the other green planes quickly adjusted their course to intercept the German planes flying towards their comrade. At a critical moment, the lead German fighter opened fire, and a sustained burst of fire for four or five seconds caused one Soviet plane to spiral out of control, tumbling to the ground like a bird with clipped wings, finally crashing into the open field in a deafening explosion.
The German soldiers watching from the ground erupted into cheers, and Lin's heart leaped with joy. From the scene, the German fighters' actions from appearance to achieving the first victory were simply seamless, while the Soviet planes, despite their three-to-one numerical advantage, seemed to lag behind in response. Could the German fighters win with a two-to-one advantage if they played their tactics right?
Just as this thought emerged in Lin's mind, he was immediately struck by a blow: the flanking Soviet planes began to open fire. The staccato of machine gun fire was continuous and crisp. The lead German fighter immediately executed a rolling maneuver, but the trailing one seemed a beat slower and soon found itself engulfed in a hail of bullets.
With great reluctance, the German soldiers watched as their own fighter also plummeted to the ground.
The era when the German Air Force dominated Europe was gone forever!
Before the plane crashed, the German pilot managed to bail out in time, and the white parachute blossomed in the sky, tinged with an indelible sense of melancholy. The Soviet planes did not ruthlessly attack the parachuting pilot but instead chased after another German fighter. Despite the five-to-one disadvantage, the agile fighters performed acrobatic rolls in the sky, reminiscent of knights evading swords and spears in the midst of enemy lines. With the calm operation of the pilot and the superior performance of the aircraft, it even found an opportunity to attack again and opened fire, but this strike not only failed to down the opponent but also exposed it to other Soviet planes, ultimately meeting the same fate as its companion.
This non-monotonous aerial battle lasted less than five minutes, but its intensity far exceeded that of air show performances decades later. As Lin huddled in the trench, bullets whizzing by, he realized that the most terrifying thing was not death but standing on the edge of life and death, feeling helpless; at that moment, as bullets kicked up dust around him, he thought he was about to meet his end and surprisingly let go of all distractions; at another moment, he suddenly felt a deep longing for his family and friends, earnestly praying to return to his own time, even if it meant shortening his life by thirty years.
Time flowed slowly amidst the torment, with the machine gun still roaring, but it sounded closer, and the booming of cannons "came late," overshadowed by the fireworks-like explosions. Gradually, voices of people talking and shouting could be heard again in the trench, although Lin couldn't understand a word, he knew that he had survived another ordeal. As he opened his eyes, what he saw was a hellish scene: the trench was littered with the corpses of the fallen and various degrees of wounded, and the ground, soaked in blood, became even muddier!
"Are you okay?" Lin blurted out in Chinese when he saw Yellow Hair leaning against the trench wall, clutching his arm in pain. It sounded awkward even to himself, but Yellow Hair just looked at him with a numb expression, a look of impending doom.
Having taken first aid courses at school, Lin knew some basic techniques. Thinking about the numerous casualties after the air raid, and the possibility that the medics accompanying the troops might not arrive in time, he hesitated for a moment before moving forward. Based on the visible conditions, Yellow Hair's injury seemed to be on his right arm, and blood had soaked most of his sleeve. Lin tried to move Yellow Hair's left hand away from the wound, but his arms remained stiff. With no other choice, he applied more force to move Yellow Hair's hand aside, only to be shocked to find Yellow Hair's right arm blurred with blood and flesh, with part of the flesh visibly missing through the torn clothing...
Lin would usually feel nauseous at the sight of blood, but in this focused moment, he pushed aside all instinctive reactions. Mimicking what others did, he tore open the first aid kit carried with him and stuffed the tourniquet under Yellow Hair's armpit, then cradled his neck with his own arm. During this process, Yellow Hair maintained a numb expression, his eyes somewhat dull, but his pale lips trembled slightly, and a few beads of sweat dripped from his temples.
Sanitäter, Sanitäter.
Lin called out loudly for a medic, one of the few German words he had picked up through eavesdropping and self-study over the past two days. His initial intention in learning was to use it for himself when injured, but he hadn't expected to use it on a comrade.
Despite calling out several times, there was still no sign of a medic. Suddenly, Yellow Hair tightly grasped Lin's hand with his left hand, his hollow eyes seeming to pierce through everything and see another world. His lips moved, barely forming a few unclear words, as the pressure of his grip on Lin's hand suddenly increased. Lin's hand hurt, but he endured and didn't pull away. In just a moment, the hand that held him lost its strength, while the weight on his arm seemed to increase.
Lin closed his eyes in pain, silently experiencing the terrifying proximity of death, the infinite sorrow of life's demise, and the bloody and cruel nature of the world.