Chapter 23 Chapter Twenty-Three

Major Portman broke his promise. When everyone gathered in the basement of the Krenai Farm, I didn't see the blond man.A chill rose from the bottom of my heart. I tried to tell myself that maybe he was stuck on something, or else he was late.But as time goes by, I know any idea of ​​getting away with it becomes ridiculous.He might really not be able to come today, and I can't wait for him, not even for a minute; I have to send my mother and the others to Chalon, otherwise the Gestapo will search here soon. I told Mr. Krenai to get the car ready according to plan, and then I stood by the drive and watched the road out of town.

"Chart..." My mother put on a peasant woman's skirt and came to me, holding my arm, "what's wrong with you, why are you restless?" "No, Mom." I took her hand; I was relieved that she wasn't hurt. "Are you worried about him? The officer..." "Well..." I nodded vaguely, "He... helped us a lot..." "Are you friends?" "...is it?" I looked at her soft face cautiously, "You don't blame me for making friends with Germans, do you?" "Fool!" Mother smiled, as if recalling something, "Didn't I see him before? He seems a little different from that time..."

"Oh?" "Probably the eyes... I remember his eyes were cold and unlovable before, but now they have become very gentle. He... he must be a good person?" "Good guy? Maybe you can't say that..." I couldn't help laughing, and suddenly thought of something, "Mom, if he was cold-blooded before and did a lot of wrong things, and now he wants to live again, you say...God Will you give him the chance?" My mother stared at me quietly, with relief and understanding in her eyes: "Of course... child... of course..." The rescued people were divided into two groups, five of them hid in two straw trucks, and the rest disguised themselves as farmers and sat in the driver's cab.

I put on a cap and a duffel coat and a fake beard, and the guerrilla boys put their submachine guns in the basement wall and left us some pistols. "Be careful on the road." Joseph sent me to the car, hesitated for a moment and then added, "...I will inquire about him for you, but you'd better not get your hopes up." I said "thank you" to him with a wry smile and jumped into the car. The sky was dark, the moon and stars could not be seen, and there was no sound around.Joseph and the others will return to Paris separately this evening, and we may not return to this city.The headlights shot two yellow beams of light on the dark road. I resisted the urge to look back and said softly to the people beside me, "Let's go..."

Ninety percent of the influence of the "Swan" in Paris was broken by the Gestapo, and the "Nightingale" troupe ceased to exist. Although the families of Lafont and Simon were not involved, all their assets were confiscated.Luckily I still had some savings in a Swiss bank, so a week later I used the escape route to send them to Portugal so they could go to England. I am forever guilty of two loyal friends who stood by me and, though I tried to keep them out of danger, ended up sending them from their homes.But before leaving, Laffont smiled and said to me: "We decided to borrow money from you to open some kind of munitions factory over there, Chartres, and after the war is over, you will find yourself richer than before. "

I really don't know what to say...and mother, she insisted on staying closest to me. Armand's manor has been seized by the Nazis, all I can do is persuade her to go to Switzerland first, and I will go there later.She believed it, so I sent all my relatives and friends to a safe place in the shortest possible time. But I have to stay in France, because Joseph has not given me news of the major so far; therefore I can't go, I can't go! Using a fake ID card, I disguised myself as a piano manufacturer, successfully traveled from Chalons to Marseilles, and contacted Daisy who was hiding here. I pretended to be a couple and lived in a small apartment. all loss cases.

About a week later, I received a letter from Paris with "Y.J" written in pencil on the envelope.I have to admit my heart was pounding like a drum when I opened the envelope. God didn't give him a chance— The major did not escape the fangs of his countrymen, and he was arrested. Charges of "collaboration with the enemy" and "espionage" were placed on his head, and he was held in a solitary cell awaiting trial. A tingling pain spread from my fingertips to my heart, and my whole body was almost numb; a helpless depression and anxiety enveloped me, and I couldn't sleep all night.

A month later, a second letter informed me that the major was being escorted back to Germany.Thanks to the efforts of General von Portman, his only son was finally spared the death penalty, but his rank was reduced to a corporal, and he was sent to the "Adolf Hitler Guard Standard" as an ordinary soldier. Only then did I breathe a sigh of relief, thanking the merciful God for hearing my prayer. 1942 was a critical year for both Germany and the world's anti-fascist forces. The bearded man's mindless attack on the Soviet Union finally sounded the death knell for himself.The Battle of Stalingrad has been fought for four months and there is still no progress. Everyone is paying special attention to the victory of both sides.

I used a new name to restart the underground fugitive network and assassination activities, but I never saw Rostock again. He seemed to have disappeared completely, and there was no news.I never knew that I could still miss him as much as I miss my family and friends. In November, the Soviet army launched a counterattack. The Boros Army, which was involved in the street fighting in Stalingrad, was beaten to disgrace. When we were all celebrating this, Hitler pieced together a "Don River" army to go to the Eastern Front. And ordered the three most powerful divisions of the Armed SS in France to quickly enter the southeast position of Kharkov, preparing to cooperate with the "Don" Army to attack the ruined city and rescue the Sixth Boros Army.

The three unlucky armies were the "Reich" Division, the "Skeleton" Division, and... "Adolf Hitler's Guards". When I heard the news, I really didn't know how long God was going to continue the test of the blond man. So I began to pay special attention to the situation on the Eastern Front: When the Soviet army defeated the "Don" Army and wiped out the Boros Army, they quickly rushed to Kharkov, preparing to take advantage of the victory and pursue another "Battle of Stalingrad".But at this time, the three SS ace divisions proved their rock-solid status in the German Army.Their resistance was extremely tenacious. The Waffen SS soldiers guarding various defensive positions fought almost desperately. Some positions were even razed to the ground by the fierce artillery fire of the Soviet army. All the soldiers were killed before they were lost.Others quickly organized a counterattack after losing their position, and the winner was determined after a small area changed hands several times or dozens of times.

I don't know whether Rostock can survive the artillery attack several times, or even ten times more than his own, because I can't get any news about him.I have had many nightmares about his death, and every time I woke up from such a dream, I was sweating profusely and couldn't stop panting, and then sat with my knees hugged until dawn. Even I don't know why. However, before the Battle of Kharkov was over, another bad news reached my ears: my mother died in a tram accident in Lausanne. When I heard the news, my mind went blank, and then I locked myself in the room without eating for a whole day, no matter how Daisy called me, I didn't respond.I didn't even have the strength to cry, my heart was pounding with grief and guilt.From that moment on, I suddenly realized that if even Rostock died, then maybe I would really despair... 1943 became the most difficult period of my life. The war was developing in a better direction day by day, and the Germans began to retreat steadily. Whether it was in North Africa or Europe, it was difficult for them to maintain their victory.But they also became more vicious and cunning during this time.Probably because they had a vague premonition of failure, the Gestapo intensified their efforts to kill prisoners and Jews. Our operations have also become more dangerous, but everyone is happy.Because we know that everything is coming to an end, it is like waiting for the dawn after a long dark night, which is a little anxious, but it is worth looking forward to. In June 1944, the D-Day landings sounded the death knell for the Third Reich. On August 20, 1944, General Charles de Gaulle led the troops of "Free France" to march towards Paris with the Allied forces. People crowded the roadside to welcome him with cheers and flowers. In May 1945, Germany surrendered.The darkest hours on the European continent are finally over. The Paris property and the Armand estate were back in my hands, and I regained my identity and returned to the French Conservatoire to do my old job. When I walked into the door of the apartment on Boulevard Pierre I of Selby after two and a half years, a pile of letters made my eyes widen. "One a month, my lord." Miss Dorio was busy helping me clean up the house, and casually handed me a few scattered letters. None of these letters had an address, and the envelopes were beautifully handwritten, but the content inside was all the same sentence—— "Ich liecbe dich." (German: I love you.) Postmarks began in January 1943 and continued until December 1944.The letters got dirtier and tattered as they went to the back, and some even had dried blood stains on them. There are a total of 24 letters, each of which has been carefully opened and read by me. Although I kept asking Miss Doriot if there were any more, she shook her head again and again: "That's all, my lord, not one of them." Is that right, then... that person probably really has been buried under the frozen soil of Russia... The letter fell from my hands like snowflakes. Miss Dorio, who was bending over to wipe the vase, looked at me in surprise: "...My lord, what's wrong with you?" My face may have been deathly pale, and my unstoppable tears must have terrified the old lady. At the end of 1945, I returned to Armand Manor due to illness. The rare winter sun shone warmly on me, just like my mother used to stare at me tenderly.I closed my eyes with a cup of warm coffee. François and Louvenceau did not return from the concentration camp, but Lafont and Simon had returned to Paris to take care of their property, and Joseph returned to school to continue his studies.It seems that the wounds of that war have begun to be repaired little by little.Life goes on again, but I know that only the dead cannot be brought back, and that is the biggest regret. I remember going to see Marisa on my way out of Paris, and I cleaned her tombstone very old from lack of care and told her I was sorry.Because what Joseph said was right, I couldn't be a swan; I thought I would have only one lover in my life, like that noble and single-minded bird.But after experiencing many things, I know that I am cowardly and easily betrayed.This may be that I owe her all my life. But I'm equally as guilty to another person, if I can say what he most wants to hear before he leaves, then whether his soul is in hell or accidentally enters heaven, he can rest in peace. It's a pity that when everything is over, it seems that I am the only sinner left in this world. I sighed, opened my eyes, and heard footsteps behind me. "Could you get me some more coffee, Jacques." I tugged at the blanket on my lap and handed the cup out. "I'm very happy to help you." A somewhat hoarse but very familiar voice rang in my ears. The cup fell to the ground, and I jumped up as if I had been shocked by electricity, and turned around—— Her brilliant blond hair dazzled in the sun, and her sapphire eyes smiled at me. I must be dreaming! "Why are you showing such eyes? Am I becoming ugly?" The man in dark brown casual clothes touched his chin. He had lost a lot of weight, his hair had been cut short, and he had a burn scar from his left cheek to his neck, but he still looked charming. I couldn't believe my eyes: "Rostock! Are you... still alive?" "Ah, yes." He gently pushed me back into the chair, "Probably because I'm not a brave soldier, I always think there is someone in France that I have to meet, so I try to stay as safe as possible." The place." "You are hurt……" "Yes, so the prisoners who were released as priority were sent back." I gently stroked the burn scar, speechless. He stared at my face, still smiling and said: "You know? Before Heinrich died, Heinrich cursed me that I would never see you for the rest of my life. I spent a lot of effort to break those damn words. Now I Not even a penny..." "Oh, you mean I can't kick you out?" "If you wish, Monsieur Earl, perhaps hire a new secretary or housekeeper or something, and I can do it very well." He had changed so much that I couldn't even remember what his face looked like when I first saw him.A warm thing has been rippling into my body from the hand held by him. "Okay." I smiled, "but the salary is not high." "It's okay." He raised the corner of his mouth nonchalantly. "At least now I can stay by your side for the rest of my life. Take good care of me, sir." "Je t'aime!" I said finally, and hugged him tightly. God, you and him finally made peace... (Note: Je t'aime French: "I love you")