"Alice!"
The untimely—or perhaps timely—call from the elderly man interrupted the burgeoning emotions. The woman responded with a soft "yes" and walked over, her head slightly bowed. With her back straightened, she no longer appeared stooped but instead exuded the grace expected of a young woman. After staring for a few seconds, Lynn instinctively turned his gaze elsewhere. Under the moonlight, the winding road vanished into the darkness. Königsberg, a once beautiful coastal city, had now become the last hope for hundreds of thousands of stranded German civilians in East Prussia, with the remaining ships of the German Navy and their valiant sailors ferrying away boatloads of civilians and soldiers under the noses of Soviet aircraft and warships.
Contemplating these thoughts, Lynn felt a sense of melancholy. He turned back, and the woman, now holding two pieces of bread-like snacks, was walking towards him. A gust of wind blew, causing her checkered scarf to billow. Her complete face and the bun of hair resembled a small feather, delicately stirring Lynn's young heart.
Perhaps out of gratitude or considering the other as an acquaintance, this time the woman did not avoid Lynn's somewhat dazed gaze. As the distance closed, her deep brown eyes widened. By the time she stopped in front of Lynn, she was in her most spirited and beautiful state.
A widow and a lone figure, Lynn's heart raced. As an ordinary member ensnared in this brutal war, life was as fragile as a flower in full bloom—any gust of wind, few drops of rain, or even invisible forces could cause it to wither. Why not bloom freely, even if just for a moment?
"Please, eat!"
The woman offered the food with both hands, as if welcoming back a hardworking husband.
The man's broad chest cradled the sleeping child, and his sturdy arms could easily embrace the woman's mature body.
For three or four seconds, Lynn was unaware of his own blunder. He looked at the woman's hands; the bread was palm-sized, while her fingers under the moonlight gleamed like white jade.
"They must be soft and smooth, unlike the rough fingers of soldiers who wield guns all day," Lynn thought.
"Thank you!"
With crumbs in his mouth, Lynn removed his right glove with his teeth, picked up a piece of bread from the woman's clean palm, and attempted to put it in his mouth but found it hindered by the glove. Despite being a sharpshooter and a calm killer, he now seemed awkward and clueless.
Seeing Lynn's embarrassment, the woman refrained from laughing. Her widened eyes seemed to tire, gently closing, as she gracefully lifted his glove-covered hand to her face.
The tense atmosphere was broken by the elderly man, "Don't worry, he's Danish," he said in German, as the woman was about to reach for the bread.
The tension dissipated, leaving both parties standing awkwardly.
"Sorry!"
Chewing on the bread, Lynn's German was muffled and unclear. He couldn't find more words to explain, so he continued to munch on the bread, which had lost its original taste. The woman and the elderly man walked to the luggage area, leaving Lynn behind, feeling the weight of life's burden on a woman's shoulders.
Is slaughter the only way to resolve conflicts?
This question seemed rather profound for a soldier like Lynn, who leaned against a large tree to rest. Before even a quarter of an hour had passed, the direction they came from suddenly echoed with the rumble of artillery fire. Lynn half-turned his head, seeing flashes of yellow fire on the southern horizon, with columns of dark smoke rising faintly. Surely, the Soviet forces had launched another attack. With their clear numerical and equipment advantages, they could rotate their troops, while the German soldiers defending along the riverbank had no choice but to grit their teeth and hold on.
"Let's go, let's go!"
Perhaps seeing the defense line under attack again, the non-commissioned officer in charge of this retreat unit ended their rest prematurely. The situation was abundantly clear, and the exhausted civilians had no choice but to continue trudging forward. At their slow pace, the artillery fire from the rear frontline maintained a consistent tone throughout, its prolonged duration causing concern. Lynn even felt that these days were more grueling than being in the frontline trenches.
Hopefully, this defense line could hold out for a few more days, Lynn silently prayed, wishing that his good luck would be transferred to the "Butcher" for the time being, giving them a chance to meet again. If fate separated them forever, it would be a great regret, as profound as the inability for comrades to share a drink unless heaven allowed it.