Chapter 11 Chapter 11

What Marc painted has been swaying in front of my eyes.I stayed at home for another three or four days.My mother has an old affair with a construction director of the Todt Group--maybe she'll go on feeding Lieutenant Stilwell with the stomach bug that unsalted food that made him so loyal--any gentleman who comes to my house They are all unrestrained, pulling my father's worn-out slippers on their feet, ignoring the symbolic meaning of them.The mother ran nimbly from room to room in her mourning dress, with the comfort of wishing the dead an eternal bliss; she not only walked the streets in this well-fitting black mourning dress, but also walked through kitchens and living rooms in it between.In honor of my fallen brother, she placed offerings on the pantry like an altar.The first is a passport photo of my brother when he was a corporal, and his image has been enlarged to make it difficult to distinguish; the second is two obituaries framed in black frames, which are cut from the "Sentinel" and the "Daily News". "③; the third is a bunch of letters from the front line tied together with a black ribbon, and this bundle of letters together with the fourth sacrifice pressed on it - a second-class Iron Cross and a Crimea Campaign commemorative medal — placed together on the left side of the picture frame; the fifth one is my brother’s violin and bow and the densely written music score pressed underneath — he has devoted himself to practicing violin sonatas many times — they are placed on the right side of the picture frame, The letters with Nazha constitute a balance of power.

① Todt (1891~1942), German Nazi politician and architect.The "Toth Group" he founded and led contracted many important military and civilian construction projects in Germany and occupied areas. ② "Sentinel", a Nazi local party newspaper published in Danzig. ③ "Mainichi Shimbun", the full name is "Danzig Daily News", a local daily in Danzig. I barely knew my brother Klaus, and if I still think of him now and then, I was more jealous of the altar on the pantry.I always imagine that my enlarged photo is also framed in a black frame.Whenever I'm alone in the living room, my brother's altar is always a sight to behold.

I often gnaw my nails with grievances. One morning, while the lieutenant was lying on the couch with his hands to his stomach, and my mother was making unsalted oatmeal in the kitchen, my right hand unconsciously clenched into a fist, almost unequivocally Photos, obituaries, and even the violin were smashed.It happened to be the day I set out for the Youth Volunteer Army, thus avoiding a feat that, to this day and in the years to come, may occur at any time: its director is the dead on the Kuban River, standing by the pantry Mother and I - a total indecisive person.I picked up my leatherette suitcase and hit the road, via Berent, to Konjitz.For three months I had the opportunity to get to know the Tuchel heath between Oscher and Rez to the fullest.Flying sand and rocks outdoors.It's spring for insect lovers.Junipers sway in the wind.Our main activities were bush drilling and shooting targets: behind the fourth small pine tree on the left were two "cardboard brothers" ① and they were the targets of the shooting.Beautiful white clouds are floating above the birch trees, and butterflies are dancing, not knowing where they are flying.There are some jet-black and shiny round puddles in the swamp, and crucian carp and carp can be blown up with grenades.Nature is full of gunpowder.

Tuchel also has a cinema. ① "Cardboard Brothers", soldiers nicknamed gun targets. Putting aside the birch trees, white clouds and crucian carp for the time being, let's talk about this unit of the Youth Volunteer Labor Army.Our temporary wooden dormitory was hidden in a forest, with a flagpole standing in front of it, surrounded by rows of bulletproof trenches, and a hut next to the wooden classrooms.The reason why I introduce the terrain like a sand table is that a year before I came here - before Winter, Jürgen Kupka and Banzemer came here - the great Marc In this temporary wooden dormitory area, he put on twill work clothes and big-toed leather boots, and left his name in the hut.This is a hut with wooden partitions and no roof.A few odd-shaped pines rustled above, surrounded by gorse.

On the pine plank opposite the polished support beams was engraved--picked out with nails, to be precise--the two-syllable surname, and below it was a beautiful line of Latin, all letters without curves. , much like Old Germanic script ②.This is the beginning of one of his favorite hymns: "The mother stands with tears in her eyes" Jacobone da Todi, a Franciscan friar, would be deeply moved if he were born again.In the Youth Volunteer Army I still couldn't get rid of Mark.Whenever I need to lighten my load - piled behind and under me with the myriad maggot-infested stuff my contemporaries excrete - you come alive before my eyes: let me whistle and think of other things , the letters that were painstakingly cut out one by one still reminded me loudly of Mark and the Virgin Mary over and over again.

① That is Mark. ②The ancient Germanic script is the oldest script of the Germanic nation, formed between the first century BC and the first century AD.Due to the limitation of writing technology, the letters have no curved strokes, but all have straight lines or corners, which are quite similar to cuneiform. ③ Jacobone da Todi (1230-1306), an Italian poet, is generally believed to have written the hymn "Mother with Tears in Her Eyes". I knew full well that Mark didn't want to joke, and he couldn't, although he had tried a few times.His every move, word and deed make people feel solemn and meaningful, as if he wants to leave a monument for future generations.

For example, he cut out a line of cuneiform writing on a pine board in the hut of the North Tuchel detachment of the Volunteer Army of Youth between Oscher and Reids.The hut's wooden partitions are enlivened by a lot of funny, dirty obscenities carved and daubed from top to bottom.However, whether it is the aphorisms after drinking and eating, or the fragrant poems and vulgar and deformed anatomical diagrams, they are all no match for Mark's words. Because of Mark's excerpt of that passage in the most hidden place, I almost became religious at that time.If that were the case, I wouldn't have to go to the Kolpin House now to do a poorly paid relief work, hoping to find early communism in Nazareth and late communism in the Ukrainian kolkhoz. Christianity; I shall quit all-night talks with the Abbe Alban, and never study to what extent prayer compensates for blasphemy; I will be religious, and believe in any doctrine, such as the resurrection of the human body .But when I was sent to chop wood in the detachment kitchen, I hacked the hymn that Marc liked out of the pine board with an axe.

Your name will disappear with it. ① Nazareth, a famous historical city in the north of Israel, is the place where Jesus was active in his childhood and where he performed his first miracle (changing water into wine in Cana). The old fairy tales bear some indelible traces of a frightening, moral, supernatural power.Therefore, the rough places where fresh wood fibers are exposed are more expressive than the previously cut-out text. Your logo must have multiplied countless times with the cut wood chips. In this unit, there are all kinds of stories in the kitchen, bathroom and changing room.On Sundays, when everyone is so bored that they start counting flies, the storytelling is especially animated.These stories are all about a volunteer labor army soldier named Mark, who must have stolen something important, so he came to serve in the North Tuchel unit a year ago.The main plot is always the same, but the details are constantly refurbished.The chief cook, the clothing administrator and the two truck drivers are the elders here, and they have not been transferred many times.

About Marc, they said much the same: "He was like that when he first arrived, and his hair grew all the way here. The barber had to cut him first.But it still doesn't help: a pair of protruding ears are like two big colanders, and his Adam's apple, oh, it's really good!Besides, he had one—that was the most delicious thing about him.At that time, I, the dress manager, was ordered to send this group of recruits who had arrived late to the Tuchel lice control station①.When they all stood under the shower head, I glanced at it by accident. First, I didn’t look at the real thing, and then I took a closer look. I couldn’t help but said to myself, don’t be jealous. Let me tell you quietly, his little tail is like A whip is not easy to deal with if it is vigorous.

At least he tossed the sub-leader's wife, that flirty woman in her early forties from front to back.It all happened because the ass of the squad leader—he was sent to France later, he was a braggart—let Marc go to his house to build a rabbit cage, the youth volunteer army' Residence of the Head of State'② The second house from the left.It is said that Mark refused to say anything at first, but instead of being rude, he quoted the relevant provisions of the work code calmly and objectively.Even so, he was scared to death by the squad leader himself, and then had to go to the latrine for two days: separating honey ③.No one would let him into the bathroom, so I stood far away and sprayed water on him with a long rubber hose.At last he relented and went there with his tools and some planks.He definitely didn't go after the little white rabbit!The old woman, of course, was addicted to it and let Mark work in her garden for a week.Mark went tremblingly to take orders in the morning, and did not return until the roll call at night.The free cage was erected and dismantled, dismantled and erected again, the team leader probably had some doubts.

And I don't know if the husband ever caught the old woman on her back again—on the floor, or at the dining table, like Mom and Dad on their box springs at home.Anyway, when he saw Mark's big gun, he was stunned in surprise.He never lost his temper in the unit, which is his skill.Later, he often dispatched Mark to the Oliwa district and Oxhoft ④ to collect spare parts, so as to keep the bull away from the detachment.Because that old woman is thinking about Mark, and they must never let the two of them play that trick again.To this day, rumors spread from the unit's clerk that the two of them corresponded with each other.Later, there will be more famous halls, which is not what everyone can expect.On one occasion, the same Mark—and I was singing that too—discovered a partisan underground storehouse alone in Greater Bislav⑤.It's also a really great story.Speaking of which, the pond was as usual here, nothing special.At the time, we were conducting a half-drill, half-combat mission in that area.We lay in ambush by the pond for nearly half an hour, and Mark stared intently at the pond and said, wait a minute, something is not quite right here.Our second lieutenant, what's his name?Anyway, he sneered a few times at that time, and we also thought it was funny, so no one cared about him. Mark immediately stripped off his torn clothes and jumped into the pond.Guess what?When he went down for the fourth time, he found the entrance of a very modern underground warehouse in the middle of the yellow-brown mud soup less than fifty centimeters deep, and it was equipped with hydraulic loading and unloading equipment that could be lifted and lowered freely.We loaded four trucks full.This time the team leader had to gather all the team members and rewarded Mark in public. The squad leader even awarded him a medal, despite his affair with the old woman.Later, he was sent to serve in the army, and once there, he offered to be on a tank. " ①In the early days of the war, some German military depots and prisoner-of-war camps had anti-lice stations. ②The term "Führer" refers specifically to Hitler during the Third Reich.Here it is used to mock the cadres of the youth volunteer labor army. ③ Soldiers nicknamed cleaning toilets "separation honey". ④The northern town of Göttingen was an important military fortress at that time. ⑤ A small town in the south of Tuchel Wasteland. At first, I never talked too much.Every time Mark was mentioned, Winter, Jurgen Kupka and Banzemer didn't say much.When we were eating or going out for practice, we always passed the "President's Residence". When we found that there was still no rabbit cage in front of the second house on the left, the four of us always glanced at each other in a hurry.Perhaps there is a cat lurking in the green, windswept grass.We understood each other through meaningful glances and formed a secret group, although I didn't have a great relationship with Winther and Kupka, and even less with Benzemer. In the four weeks before we left the voluntary labor army, we drove out to fight partisans several times in a row, but never caught anyone, and certainly there were no casualties.During this time of exhaustion, new rumors have emerged. It was the costume administrator who gave Mark a uniform and took him to the lice control station first to let the news out from the team's clerk: "First, Mark wrote another letter to the wife of the former team leader, and the letter was It was forwarded to France; second, an investigation task was ordered by the superiors, and it is currently being processed; third, let me tell you, Marc was quite capable from the beginning, but the time is so short. Astonishing! If he hadn't been an officer, he'd probably have a sore throat again. All soldiers without rank are likely to have a sore throat at the moment, and he'd be the first to start it. If I come To introduce him, the first thing to mention is the pair of big ears." I finally couldn't control my mouth, and Winter also opened after me; Jurgen Kupka and Banzemer also Unwilling to be lonely, they showed off what they knew. "Hey, you know, we've known Mark for a long time." "We've been together since middle school." "He had a sore throat before he was fourteen." "By the way, what happened to the navy captain's thing? Did he steal it and the belt from the clothes hanger while he was in gymnastics class? This is a" "nothing, let's go first Tell me about that gramophone." "And those cans? Doesn't it matter? He always had a screwdriver hanging around his neck at first" "Wait a minute! If you want to start from scratch, you have to start at the Heinrich Ehlers Stadium We were talking about a baseball game. Here's what happened: We were lying on the grass and Mark dozed off. At this moment, a gray cat walked across the grass and walked straight towards Mark's neck. The cat Staring at his neck and thinking, that jumping thing is a mouse" "Boy, stop talking nonsense, it was Pilenz who grabbed the cat and killed it?" Two days later, we got official news.Line up that morning, the detachment received a report: a young volunteer labor army soldier who had served in the North Tuchel detachment, first served as a tank shooter, and then was promoted to a corporal and a tank gunner. During the battle, ×× Soviet tanks were destroyed.In addition, he has this and that record. We have already begun turning in the old uniforms, and it is said that replacements will arrive shortly.At this time, my mother sent me a news clipping from the "Sentinel", which was printed in typeface: The son of a certain citizen of this city won the battle in countless battles first as a tank shooter and then as a tank gunner. How and what record.