In situations where resources are scarce, queuing often becomes the best solution to address fairness issues. Seeing more and more soldiers joining the queue, Lynn's group of SS soldiers, under the leadership of a senior officer, also walked past, each carrying their equipment. In the center of the square, wooden frames hung three large pots in a row. The soldiers in charge of cooking had already filled them with water and added vegetables, potatoes, and pieces of meat-like substance. Although the aroma had not yet wafted out, the sight alone made the hungry soldiers salivate.
Lynn carried a Mauser rifle, a PPSh-41 submachine gun, a slung canvas bag, and some miscellaneous items, totaling about twenty kilograms. For an adult of his height and weight, this wasn't considered a heavy load, but with mental stress, lack of food, and the fatigue from a day of long travel, his body probably only retained about forty percent of its normal energy. Seeing that the wait in line wouldn't end in less than half an hour, Lynn followed others' lead in propping up his rifle with his hand, allowing the butt to rest naturally on the ground, thus relieving most of the burden. Unconsciously, about ten minutes passed, and suddenly he felt someone walking straight towards him. Instinctively turning his head, he felt a jolt of apprehension.
Eight soldiers approached, all without helmets and wearing boat-shaped caps, clad in the famous m43 "pea" camouflage combat uniform and grayish-green military trousers. If it weren't for the incident at the blacksmith's shop earlier, Lynn wouldn't have been surprised by their presence, even if the first three were unusually tall. However, he felt somewhat uneasy now, fearing that "Junker," who had been humiliated in front of his superior, might seek revenge, and these soldiers from the National Defense Army seemed somewhat unfriendly.
The most burly soldier resembled a bear fattened up before winter, his sleeves rolled up high to reveal arms as thick as an average person's thigh. This physique shattered Lynn's preconceived notion of the quality of late-war German soldiers—dealing with two or three ordinary Russian soldiers in close combat simultaneously would probably be a piece of cake for him! When he stopped in front of Lynn, his imposing presence almost made Lynn unconsciously take a step back, but fortunately, "Butcher" and other SS soldiers were nearby, preventing him from panicking too much.
The big soldier spoke in a low voice, and despite being less than thirty centimeters away, Lynn's ears seemed to go numb—a condition he'd only experienced during artillery barrages. However, the soldier's tone and actions didn't seem malicious, so Lynn breathed a sigh of relief. Looking down, Lynn realized the big soldier was pointing at his PPSh-41.
Before Lynn could respond, the big soldier took out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. Glancing up, Lynn saw it was still unopened. After a moment's delay, he finally realized: the soldier wanted his Soviet submachine gun!
At that moment, several other National Defense Army soldiers who had come together began conversations with Lynn's SS comrades, not just exchanging weapons and ammunition, but also trading cigarettes, chocolate, wristwatches, canned goods, or silver items like pocket watches and cigarette cases with the SS soldiers. If they felt the traded items were not of equal value, they would haggle and pull out new things from their pockets. It was like a different kind of free market where anything could be traded as long as there was profit to be made.
Seeing Lynn remain silent, the big soldier pulled out a piece of candy wrapped in colored paper. At this point, Lynn truly considered the weight of the items offered by the soldier compared to his Soviet submachine gun. Honestly, most of his confidence now came from his precise handling of the Mauser rifle, and the PPSh-41, which generally outperformed the Mauser 98k, had never really been used by him. Remembering he also had a repaired shotgun, Lynn handed over the submachine gun to the seemingly willing soldier, then grabbed the cigarettes and candy from him.
The big soldier skillfully operated the gun's bolt, checked the action, and removed the drum magazine. If it weren't for wearing German uniforms and speaking fluent German, his seamless movements might have raised suspicions about his identity. After confirming that it was a fully functional PPSh-41, the big soldier grinned at Lynn, pointing to the drum magazine, saying something. Lynn guessed he was asking for matching ammunition, and he shook his head firmly. The big soldier looked somewhat disappointed but still slung the gun over his left shoulder, next to his original Mauser rifle.
Lynn untwisted the colored paper and found an orange-colored hard candy inside, then gently squeezed the cigarette pack, which should contain the same brand that "Butcher" had offered him before. The transaction went smoothly, but Lynn couldn't help but feel curious: did the National Defense Army soldier exchange cigarettes and candy, relatively scarce supplies, for his Soviet submachine gun just because of its performance, attempting to increase his chances of survival on the battlefield?
Looking around at the others, the barter transactions went smoothly and didn't take much time to complete. National Defense Army soldiers exchanged various supplies for war trophies captured by the SS officers and soldiers from the Soviets, which was partly due to the ambush in the forest in the morning. Although the ambush on the highway in the afternoon was more significant, the German soldiers involved had no time to clear the battlefield, so there were no spoils of war to speak of.
After a while, as the steam rose from the pots of soup, someone blew a whistle unexpectedly. Stimulated by this sound, the soldiers who had been queuing in circles suddenly became restless. Four proud-looking officers stood on the steps in front of the church, with a stout non-commissioned officer wearing a helmet, holding a clipboard, and loudly reading from it. After each statement, about ten or twenty soldiers would quickly join the temporary queue in front of the steps. Compared to the casual formation of the queue waiting for soup, the hastily formed neat lines truly reflected the professionalism of the soldiers.
The non-commissioned officer read seven or eight sentences in this manner, then suddenly changed his pace and said a long string of words. One of the officers standing on the steps walked up to them, shouted a short slogan, and then led the group of over a hundred soldiers to the west, leaving the square. This pattern repeated again when the second officer took away a similarly sized group of soldiers. Then, the non-commissioned officer started reporting one by one with the previous rhythm. When he called out a name unfamiliar to Lynn, the group of SS officers and soldiers he was with didn't hesitate to jog forward. Lynn reacted relatively quickly this time, at least catching up with his companions' pace.
Without the command of the officers, everyone automatically lined up. Lynn didn't know the proper way to stand, so he just followed "Butcher" closely. Standing in front of the steps, the mechanical voice of the non-commissioned officer could be heard more clearly. Lynn raised his head and suddenly noticed that among the two remaining officers on the steps, one was very familiar— "Jankel", the German Army lieutenant referred to as "Heidelink" by the colonel. He held his head high, chin up, his gaze descending from above, displaying an arrogant attitude. The collar he tightly clasped was adorned with an Iron Cross medal, his chest held high, his belt tightly fastened, and his pistol holster seemed too small compared to his burly physique.
There was another slightly longer pause in the officer's speech, and Lynn knew that one of the two officers would come down to be the "leader". As per usual practice, the local command had previously registered the scattered and disorganized troop numbers and approximate situations. Now, they were just organizing these scattered troops temporarily and assigning officers of appropriate ranks to be their temporary commanders.
Just as Lynn feared, "Jankel" scanned the group of about one hundred and forty soldiers below with his cold, stern gaze, maintaining a proud posture as he descended the steps. A loud slogan, and the soldiers, lined up in three columns, began to turn from the front of the formation, jogging to the left, while "Jankel" followed closely beside the front of the formation, leading the group to the east after circling half of the square.
Before leaving, Lynn glanced resentfully at those pots. The soup was already boiling...