Chapter 5 Chapter 5

I never saw him wear tassels in Notre Dame.When the woolen ball first became fashionable among students, he seldom wore it anymore.Several times, the three of us stood under the chestnut trees on the campus during recess, chatting wildly, and mentioned this wool thing from time to time. Mark took the tassel off his neck first, but after the second rest bell rang, he hesitated to put it on again because there was no better substitute. One day, a graduate of our school returned to his alma mater from the front line for the first time.On the way, he visited the "Führer's Headquarters"①; so he hung the coveted "sugar cube"② around his neck.At that time, we were in class, and an unusual bell called us into the hall.A young man appeared on the rostrum of the auditorium.He didn't stand behind the podium, but beside it, with the "sugar cube" hanging around his neck, behind him were three tall windows and several pots of green plants with large leaves.All the teachers of the school formed a semicircle behind him.The little reddish mouth spoke up and down the top of our heads.He also makes some interpretive gestures from time to time.Joachim Mark sat in the row in front of me and Schilling.I saw that his ears turned pale at first, and then turned red again. He leaned straight against the back of the chair, touched his neck with both hands from left to right, pinched his throat, and finally threw something away. Got under the bench.That must be tassels, I thought—small balls of red and green wool.

At first, the young man who became a second lieutenant in the Air Force spoke in a low voice and stuttered a little, with a cute clumsy tongue, and several times he blushed with embarrassment.His speech was not immediately motivating: "Don't think it's the same thing as shooting a rabbit. You often go in circles and find nothing, even weeks without a fight.But we came to the shore of the Channel—and if there is no more fighting here, I suppose, let alone anywhere else—at last we got what we wanted.On our first move we encountered a formation of fighter jets.I first came to a 'carousel', that is, I got above the clouds for a while, and got under the clouds for a while, and my curved flight was impeccable.I pulled the plane up as three Spitfires circled below me, covering each other.I thought, if you can't get rid of them, wouldn't it be ridiculous.I dived down vertically from above and aimed at an enemy plane, and immediately, its tail drew thick smoke.Then, I adjusted the left wing in time to keep the plane in balance, and at the same time, I used the sight to cover the second Spitfire flying in the face, aiming at its propeller hub: either you die or I die.You see, it still fell headlong into the sea.I thought to myself, since I have killed two planes, I should try the third and fourth planes as long as I have enough fuel.At this time, seven scattered enemy planes flew below me.The lovely sun is always behind me.I grabbed one of them and gave it its due blessing. I repeated the same trick and succeeded. The third enemy plane almost hit the muzzle of my gun. The joystick was pulled to the fender.The enemy plane is whizzing by below me, I must kill it.I instinctively chased after it.I was thrown by it, and I went into the clouds, chased after it, and pressed hard on the cannon button: it finally spun and fell into the sea, and I almost went to the sea to take a bath.I really don't know how I pulled the plane up at that time.When I flew back to the base tremblingly, the landing gear couldn't be put down, and I was trapped in the air.You must also know, and maybe have seen in the "Weekly News", that if something falls on the plane, the wings will shake.So I had to try a belly landing for the first time.Later, in the officer's mess hall, I learned that I had undisputedly shot down six enemy planes--of course I was too excited to count them all during the battle.Of course I was very happy at this time.About four o'clock we took off again.All in all, it's pretty much the same as we used to play handball here.At that time, the school did not have a playground, so we could only play on campus during recess.

Teacher Maren Brandt may still remember that I either didn't score a goal, or I scored nine goals in a row.It was the same that day, in addition to the six I shot down in the morning, I added three more in the afternoon, and these were the ninth to seventeenth enemy planes I shot down.Half a year later, I accumulated forty and was commended by my superiors⑥.When I went to the "Führer's headquarters", I had already marked the forty-fourth mark on my wing.In the English Channel, we pilots were out of the plane almost all day, even in the cockpit while the ground crew checked the plane.Not everyone can make it through.In order to adjust it, we also tried to find our own entertainment.Every military airfield has a shepherd dog.One day, the weather was very good, and we sent the shepherd dog named 'Alex'" ① Hitler had nine "Führer's Base Camps" all over Germany, and he often awarded honors to meritorious soldiers in the "Führer's Base Camps".

② People jokingly refer to the round Nazi party emblem as "sugar", here refers to the Iron Cross. ③ refers to the English Channel. ④ Spitfire, a fighter jet used by Britain in World War II. ⑤ A news documentary film in Germany at that time. ⑥According to the regulations at the time, the pilot who shot down 40 enemy planes could receive a Knight's Cross. So much was told by the decorated second lieutenant, and between two aerial battles he inserted the story of "Alex" the collie learning to jump, and the anecdote of a private first class: every time the alarm was given, the Waiting soldiers are always the last to climb out of bed, and often have to fly the plane in pajamas and pajamas to perform tasks.

Hearing this, the students laughed, especially the senior students. Some teachers couldn't help laughing, and a smile appeared on the second lieutenant's face.He graduated from our school in 1936 and was shot down over the Ruhr area in 1943.His hair was dark brown, unparted in the middle, and combed back neatly.Not too tall, with slender limbs, he looked more like a waiter serving food and drinks in a nightclub.He always likes to put one hand in his pocket when he speaks, and once he talks about air combat, he immediately pulls his hand out of his pocket and gestures with both hands to speak more vividly.He can master this kind of play with hands in a delicate and varied way.He sends his hands out from under his shoulders to show the curved flight during the sneak attack, which can save a lot of explanatory words, and he only uses half a sentence to give hints when necessary.If there was something wrong with the engine, he would raise his voice and make a strange beeping sound, imitating an airplane taking off and landing in the auditorium.One can fully believe that he must have performed this show in the officer's mess hall of the base, because the words officer's mess hall occupied an important position in his mouth.

"We all sat peacefully in the officers' mess and I was just about to go into the officers' mess because it was still hanging in our officers' mess" Aside from his actor's hands and imitation of realistic engine noises, his report was also quite funny .He knew how to poke fun at some of the teachers, whose nicknames were carried from his days to ours.Of course, his jokes were all well-intentioned.He was mischievous and quite courteous to women, and it was no exaggeration if he had accomplished some very difficult tasks.He never mentioned his personal achievements, but always said that he was lucky: "I am a lucky one. I was like this in school. I still remember several promotion certificates." A joke often made by middle school students reminded him of three Classmates who have died in battle, he said, their lives were not in vain.At the end of the report, he did not mention the names of the three victims, but frankly stated a confession: "Boys, frankly speaking, those who fought in distant places are very willing to look back on their school days!"

We applauded for a long time, cheered loudly, and stamped our feet.My palms hurt and became a little stiff.I noticed that Mark sat there reservedly and did not applaud towards the podium. Amid bursts of applause, Principal Klose shook the hands of his former students conspicuously on the rostrum, and then shook his shoulders appreciatively.Suddenly, he let go of the thin second lieutenant and walked to the back of the podium.At the same time, the second lieutenant returned to his seat. The principal's speech was very long.The boredom extends from the lush potted plants to the oil painting on the back wall of the auditorium, which is the portrait of Baron Conradi, the founder of the school.The second lieutenant, sandwiched between Senator Brunis and Maren Brandt, kept staring at his nails.Klose always breathed out a cool mint smell when he was in math class, which even greatly dilutes the academic atmosphere. However, that smell is difficult to achieve in the huge auditorium.At best, his speech could only be spread from the rostrum to the center of the auditorium: "Anyone who comes to us is wandering at this moment, you will come to your hometown this time. We will never be flexible, flexible, hard, and neat. Say it again Tidy Whoever doesn't keep tidy at this moment and end with Schiller's words don't cost your life, your life will be worth nothing ③ Now all go back to class!"

① Baron Conradi (1742-1798), born in a prominent family in Danzig, made a will in 1794, and used eleven manors and half of the cash to establish two elementary schools and a middle school for boys . ② Hitler proposed that German youth should be "as flexible as pigs and dogs, as flexible as rubber leather, as hard as Krupp steel". ③ Schiller's verses, see "Wallenstein", the first part of "Wallenstein's Barracks", the eleventh chapter We were released, and we flocked to the narrow exit of the auditorium like a whirlwind, and gathered into two piles.I squeeze forward behind Mark.He was sweating, his sugar-watered hair stuck to his scalp, and the middle sections were all messed up.Even in the gym, I never saw Mark break a sweat.The stinking three hundred students blocked the exit of the auditorium like corks.Mark's cervical trapezius muscles, the two muscle bundles that stretch from the seventh cervical vertebra to the protruding back of the head, are slightly red and beaded with sweat.In the colonnade in front of the two gates, amidst the clamor of the first-years playing tag again, I caught up with him and asked, "What do you think?"

Mark stared ahead.I tried not to look at his neck.A plaster bust of Lessing is placed between the two colonnades.However, the winner is still Mark's neck.His voice was calm and sad, as if describing his aunt's chronic illness: "They have to kill forty to get that stuff now. In the beginning, in France and the North, they only needed to kill twenty. What will happen from now on?" What the second lieutenant said probably doesn't apply to you, otherwise why would you choose that cheap substitute? At that time, in the windows of paper stores and textile stores, there were many round and oval fluorescent badges and buttons with holes on them, some of which looked like small fish or flying seagulls, shining green in the dark. Mid-white fluorescence.The vast majority of people who wear this kind of badge are the elderly and sickly women. They are worried about colliding with people on the dark street, so they pin the badge on the lapel of their coats.There was also a walking stick painted with fluorescent stripes.

①During the war, blackouts are often implemented at night, and wearing this fluorescent badge and buttons can prevent collisions. Although you are not a victim of air defense measures, you also have five or six badges.Like a school of glittering fish, like a flock of seagulls soaring, like a few fluorescent bouquets, pinned first to the lapels of coats and later to scarves.You also had your aunt sew half a dozen buttons in fluorescent material from top to bottom on your coat, turning yourself into a clown performer.I have always seen you walking around in this attire, I was, I am and I always will be.Winter's dusk, twilight, you move solemnly and slowly through the heavy snow or the darkness of the sky, first from the south to the north, and then south along Bear Street, your coat is embellished with one, two, three , four, five, six buttons glowing green.

It was a poor phantom, which at best could frighten children and old granny, trying to hide the body under the cover of black night by delusion.You might be thinking: It's impossible for any kind of black dye to engulf the mature fruit.Everyone can see it, anticipate it, feel it, and even want to grab it because it's within easy reach.May this winter pass quickly!I really want to dive again.