Bucket car.
That is the VW82 produced by Porsche. Like the Jeep of the US Army, it is the most widely used small car by the German Army in World War II and a symbol of the German Army. It is also the German equipment that the Allied soldiers most desire to have. Sometimes they would even use two jeeps to exchange for a bucket car captured by friendly forces.
It is impossible to encounter a bucket car that has not been driven away in this place!
Just like the Luger pistol, almost all of them have become the personal belongings of the Allied soldiers.
Walking to the car, George's heart of picking up bargains immediately cooled down - there were bullet holes everywhere on the body of the car, and even black blood stains on the seats.
Obviously, this car did not leak, but became a leak, so a pile of scrap metal was left here.
"Maybe it can be salvaged,"
While thinking about this in his heart, George opened the car door and fumbled. When he was looking for the key, suddenly a palm-sized manual between the scattered shells under the seat attracted his attention.
"Is this... a diary?"
Because he had taken German in college, George had no difficulty reading it. This was the diary of a German colonel named Hans Neiderman, recording his experiences in North Africa.
Although it was a bit boring, George was still very interested in this first-hand battlefield diary, especially in this era without the Internet, reading books can also kill time.
"On March 5, today, I received an order from the marshal to escort a batch of goods. This mission needs to be strictly confidential, and the most reliable subordinates must be selected..."
"On March 8, I commanded the troops to escort 20 trucks to set off overnight and drove towards the Sahara. After arriving in Douz, because there was a desert ahead, we could only rely on camels to move forward, so we bought camels and carried the goods into the desert..."
"On March 12, we arrived at the destination and buried the goods in the dry well as planned. After leaving the desert, I ordered my subordinates to deal with the guide..."
The content of the diary made George confused.
"Marshal...it must be Rommel...then what are these goods?...Why send them to the desert? Why kill the guide and camel driver?"
For a moment, all kinds of questions emerged in George's heart. Suddenly, an idea emerged in his mind.
"Could it be...Rommel's treasure?"
George immediately remembered an old movie he had seen before. The content of the movie was the story of the hero and heroine going to North Africa to find Rommel's treasure.
The story was obviously fictional, and even Rommel's treasure had been a legend for decades and had never been confirmed.
But since it was a rumor, there must be some source.
Could this be the source of the legend?
Looking at the diary in his hand, suddenly, as if remembering something, George quickly flipped forward, and soon found a few inconspicuous numbers in the diary.
These numbers were written in the diary. When I read the diary before, I just felt that these numbers seemed a little wrong.
"It seems like it was written later,"
Soon George picked out the numbers in the diary, looked at the numbers on the paper, combined them a little, and clapped his hands vigorously, cheering.
"This is the longitude and latitude!"
Yes, this is the north latitude...
At this moment, George could even hear his own heartbeat.
Rommel's treasure!
Treasure hunt!
Everyone has a treasure hunt dream, and now... the treasure is right in front of him.
Swallowing hard, George's eyes burst into an eager look.
The scorching sun was hanging high, and the sun was getting hot.
The sand on the dunes was scorching hot under the sun, as hot as a young woman's chest.
On the undulating sand dunes, a camel caravan was moving slowly.
The sun was hot and poisonous, even though he was wearing an Arab-style robe, it was still one word... hot.
"How far are we from our destination?"
"Almost, almost, sir."
George didn't believe a single punctuation mark in the guide's words. He had been saying this for two days.
It was always "almost, almost".
However, it must be said that the Arabs have not yet dug oil out of the ground, and coupled with the colonization of European powers, they have been trained very well.
When asking questions and talking, they always add "sir" respectfully, without the kind of rebelliousness of later generations, and they don't say anything like Ahuba.
Although this is the case, we can't let our guard down. If something happens, we will just teach them a lesson.
Finally, in the evening, George and his group arrived at their destination - an abandoned hotel. Such ruins are common in the desert. The reason for abandonment is that the well or oasis is dry, there is no water, and naturally there will be no people.
While a group of people were resting, George had already led the shampooer to search. After walking around the yard among the ruins for a few laps, the "dong dong" sound under the sand made the corners of his lips slightly rise.
It's a wooden board!
After using his hands to remove the sand on the wooden board and lifting it, George's smile became even stronger.
Just at this moment, Ding En came over and said.
"Boss, I'll keep watch for you."
"Yeah."
Wipe his sweat, George responded.
"Go get the rope."
Although Ding En didn't say much, George was still very confident in him after such a long time of contact.
Soon, George followed the rope and went down to the bottom of the well. With the help of the flashlight, he made a special observation. Although there were no snakes or anything like that, he was more afraid of landmines.
After all, it was the soldiers who buried the things.
Burying landmines is simply the most normal operation.
Just in case, he even searched with a mine sweeper.
Unexpectedly, there were no landmines!
Standing at the bottom of the empty well, George soon fell silent.
Sweeping away the sand at the bottom of the well, what was revealed was not soil, but stone ground, and there was no sign of filling on the stone.
"Is it all in vain?"
While talking to himself, George scanned the surroundings with a flashlight, and it was all stone.
"Is it really in vain?"
While muttering to himself, another thought came to his mind-if it was all stone, where did the water come from?
Observing the well wall, George touched the well wall with his hand, and there seemed to be nothing special. Suddenly, some stones caught his attention.
"The traces here are very new, here..."
It seems that someone has dug it!
Soon, George found that it was not dug by someone, but was deliberately blocked with stones. The carefully stacked stones carefully used their appearance, so that it was difficult to find the gaps in the stacking...
At this moment, he became excited...