Chapter 1647 Sleepless Night

What will the next battle look like?

To be honest, even Wittmann himself didn't know.

There were so many unexpected things that happened in the day that just passed. The allies were very different from what I had imagined before.

This is not to say that the Allied forces were difficult to deal with and their combat power was far superior to that of the Russians, but Wittmann never imagined that the war pattern on the Western Front battlefield would be like this.

On the first day of the war, we had no choice but to blow up more than a thousand American prisoners of war into the sky. Counting the number of American soldiers killed in the battle, there were less than 2,000.

This level of casualties is nothing on the Eastern Front battlefield. Let alone a day's battle, it only takes ten minutes to kill nearly 2,000 people when the battle is at its fiercest.

What really made Wittmann feel a little uneasy and even frightened was that the shape of this war was increasingly developing in a twisted and crazy direction. Terrible things that were unimaginable before can now happen at any time, anywhere, at any time, under any unexpected circumstances.

In today's battle, more than a thousand American prisoners of war were killed, and all of them were flown on indigenous planes. But what about tomorrow? What about the future?

Will prisoners of war who died unjustly be counted in geometric multiples? Would the Allied forces do the same thing after capturing German prisoners of war? Will the comrades around him and even himself end up like this in the end?

Tossing and turning, Wittmann was lying on a simple camp bed, unable to fall asleep. He couldn't help but wonder when he had become so "sentimental" and accustomed to "fantasizing."

Could it have something to do with getting older and no longer full of passion? Or maybe he is married and no longer can be carefree and carefree like before?

It may be both, no one can say clearly about this kind of thing, not to mention that Wittmann is still "only because he is in this mountain".

"Can't sleep?"

Wittmann, who was resting his right hand on the pillow under his ear, was startled. He turned around and saw Enschel sitting next to his bed.

"Oh! I didn't even feel it. When did you come here? Aren't you still up so late? There's going to be a war tomorrow!"

He took out the cigarette box and put one in his mouth, and at the same time threw one to Wittmann. It could be seen that Enschel, who was in good spirits at the moment, then laughed.

"Don't talk about others, aren't you also awake? Or are you saying that you don't have to fight tomorrow?"

""

Wittmann pursed his lips as he didn't know how to answer. After all, he couldn't say anything. Instead, he sat up from the bed with a sudden jerk and joined Enschel beside the bed. The relatively sturdy camp bed was enough to support him. Lift up the weight of these two big men.

"Stop being so grim. Do you need to guess what you are thinking? Everyone knows that this war is getting farther and farther away from victory. Whether you want to admit it or not, this is a fact."

? ? ?

If such words were spoken by others, Wittmann's expression would not be so exaggerated.

But the problem lies precisely in the fact that these words came from Enschel's mouth. In the eyes of almost everyone, Enschel was a complete fanatic. How could he take the initiative to say such a thing? This is different from the enthusiastic and almost rigid Enschel in Wittmann's impression.

"Hey, don't look at me with that look. I know you think I'm fanatical. I've heard such rumors for a long time. The fact is that I am indeed like this. I don't think there's anything wrong with it and I even take it for granted. Hao. But that’s not the reason for my lack of IQ. If I still can’t see such a clear fact, or am deliberately turning a blind eye, wouldn’t I be a fool?”

Pfft——

Wittmann really didn't expect that Enschel would be able to say such words at this time, and his little sleepiness disappeared in an instant as he broke into laughter.

"Yes, that's right, it should be so."

While Wittmann was smiling and lighting up his cigarette, Enschel, who was already breathing smoke, continued to speak.

"No matter what I look like in front of other people, I don't want to hide anything when I'm in front of you. I just want to tell the truth, do real things, and show my truest self. It's also very uncomfortable to wear that mask all day long. tiring."

"Actually, I am tired of this war. I want to leave this place that is like hell all the time. I want to go back to my hometown, to Munich. I have some land in the countryside that I can farm. I mean I have a farm at home. The farm. It’s too tiring for Bertha to take care of the children and run the farm by herself. I want to go back and help her and fulfill my responsibilities as a husband and father. I have been indebted to them all these years.”

Enschel is a few years older than Wittmann, who is already a veteran. He is already a 36-year-old veteran this year.

In his early years, he was punished for offending someone he couldn't afford to offend in the National Defense Force. He stayed in the position of second lieutenant for four whole years without changing his rank or position. This was almost unimaginable in the early stages of the construction of the National Defense Forces, which was an important veteran and was promoted rapidly. It was a very rare case.

Enschel, who did not expect to be promoted in this life, was disheartened and simply submitted his resignation and applied for retirement. The petty boss who deliberately gave him small shoes wanted this annoying guy to get out of the way, so he simply agreed to Enschel's resignation and packed his baggage, so he embarked on a journey home and prepared to go home to farm. Land and enjoy the rest of your life in peace.

But before Ensher could rest at home for two days, the SS came to visit him and invited him personally.

That afternoon, Ensher, who was sweating and working in the fields, didn't quite understand why these guys, who were the personal soldiers of the Führer, came to visit him, a little lieutenant who was unknown and expelled from the army by the Wehrmacht in disguise.

After asking, he found out that the SS had been paying attention to him for a long time, and even knew clearly that he had been deliberately framed because he offended his superiors and had not been promoted for four years. The reason was that Ensher had won the individual championship of the tank commander group in the whole division armored competition for two consecutive years, and the rapidly expanding SS needed talents like him to join.

The SS first-level assault captain who led the team promised Ensher a lot of benefits, including but not limited to guaranteed promotion, generous treatment, proper arrangements for family members, and high-quality education for children.

He could even use his network of connections to take revenge on that boss who had been giving him a hard time and making things difficult for him, so that this parasite in the Wehrmacht would learn a lesson. All he had to do was give Ensher the nod and be willing.