Lynn leaned against the foxhole, facing towards the mansion, gazing up at the sky. The clear night sky resembled a dark enamel, with countless stars twinkling like gemstones. What a beautiful night scene it was. Why did people choose to kill each other instead of sitting down to enjoy the world?
Perhaps that question would never have an answer. Lynn sat motionless, letting the cold night wind blow through his damp hair. The sound of gunfire hadn't ceased yet, and the surviving defenders, along with reinforcements from the German soldiers, were launching a counterattack. But Lynn knew that at best, they would only be able to retake the main defensive position they had lost earlier. The riverbank seemed like a sacred boundary, one that the German soldiers couldn't or wouldn't cross.
The intense battle had left Lynn feeling exhausted. He had intended to rest for a while, but suddenly, a dark figure jumped into his foxhole. Both of them instinctively turned to look at each other.
"Hey, are you alright?"
The person spoke in fluent German, with a pronunciation somewhat similar to English. Lynn awkwardly replied in German with a low but steady voice, "I'm fine!"
Satisfied with the answer, the other person raised their weapon, aimed ahead, and started firing.
Tat... tat... tat...
The crisp and rhythmic sound of gunfire instantly brought Lynn back to alertness. He looked at the weapon in the person's hand and realized it was a German-made MP44 assault rifle, which bore a striking resemblance to the AK47.
Observing the German soldier more closely, Lynn noticed that he had camouflage netting with leaves attached to his helmet, enhancing his concealment in the forest. His combat uniform was the famous M43 "pea dot" camouflage, appearing relatively clean and neat. Canvas pouches, each containing three curved magazines matching the assault rifle, were strapped to his chest.
Accustomed to seeing German soldiers with Mauser rifles, MP38/40 submachine guns, and corresponding equipment, Lynn suddenly felt like he was standing next to a PLA uncle. The way the soldier handled the weapon, resembling a Type 56 submachine gun, made Lynn feel like he had traveled through time, causing a momentary mental lapse.
As the German soldier finished a magazine, he smoothly replaced it with a new one from his pouch, deftly inserting the empty magazine back into the pouch with his left hand. Lynn immediately recalled scenes from playing Counter-Strike, where police officers would reload their guns. Before he could process more, the German soldier, having finished reloading, climbed out of the foxhole and swiftly ran forward with the others.
From appearing suddenly to disappearing abruptly, the time this German soldier using the MP44 spent in Lynn's sight was perhaps less than a minute. The scent of gunpowder quickly mixed with the various smells around, leaving behind only the yellow cartridge cases on the ground as evidence of his presence.
Lynn felt somewhat dazed.
After a few moments of being lost in thought, his brain finally cleared up a bit. Deciding between the Mauser rifle with no ammunition and the Mosin-Nagant with a few rounds left, Lynn slung the Mauser 98k over his shoulder and held the Mosin-Nagant, preparing to contribute to the ongoing war. Just as he was about to look up, a sudden burst of light in the sky blinded him momentarily.
"Damn flashbangs, blinding me!"
Cursing in "CS language," Lynn instinctively covered his eyes with his left hand, waiting several seconds before daring to open them again. Realizing that he had yelled out a German phrase without much thought, Lynn understood that it wasn't a reflex based on his physique, but rather a deep memory he had retained in the harsh environment over the past three days. Every time that voice appeared, someone slow to react might end up dead. Did people have a greater incentive to learn than survival?
Amidst the increasing chaotic gunfire, German soldiers in the foxhole were dodging bullets from across the riverbank. With the riverbank being so narrow, both sides were within each other's effective range. Undoubtedly, the positions on both sides of the riverbank would become a battlefield for snipers until the Soviet Union launched another attack.
Thinking of snipers, Lynn looked up towards the mansion. Despite the fading brightness of the illumination flares, he could still make out the mansion standing tall. Its pointed roof had collapsed halfway, and the walls facing the riverbank were riddled with holes, but the terrace and the upper part of the building still looked intact.
So, silently, Lynn prayed in his heart: "Thank you, brother! I hope to repay your kindness one day! Good luck!"