Honey:

Everything here was very bad, completely different from the time of training. We waited in the closed, somewhat choking train carriage for a whole day before we arrived at the front line where we needed us. Here we received our rifles and it was obvious that these weapons were all well-kept.

We fought on the Eastern Front of the Soviet Union. The last time we were in a wheat field, a new soldier was hit by a Soviet sniper because he did not lower his body. He fell into the field and we had no way to find him. You know how difficult it is to find a lying person in the field. When the military doctor found this poor man, he had already died. We all spent that day in fear and depression.

Another deadly battle was when we attacked and broke into an unmarked minefield. It was not until a famous soldier broke his feet by a landmine that we realized that we were in danger. In the end, we had to retreat on the spot. More than 100 soldiers didn't even see the enemy's appearance and returned to the place where we set off in a mess.

Now, we are on the German border, yes, on the border. Walking 1,000 meters eastward is the Soviet-controlled area, and I am leaning in the trenches and writing this letter to you. I have a line of defense composed of at least 10,000 friendly troops around me, and people are everywhere in the trenches, but fortunately, I found an ammunition box and could sit and write this letter to you.

There are corpses everywhere here, ours, the Soviets. As long as the Soviets rushed over, or when we were planning to rush over, the corpses would accumulate quickly, one by one, with a unique atmosphere of corruption. I really want to go back to you, and I swear to the gods.

Last time you wrote, Mrs. Velon next door received a government notice of her son's death, which said that his son was a hero. But I can only tell you regretfully that none of the dead I saw died bravely. After being hit by a bullet, they fell to the ground and howled, begging the medical staff to save themselves; or they were directly taken away by bullets or shells, and fell down like they fainted suddenly.

I dragged the unlucky people, and pulled their clothes in my hands, and they were covered in their blood. Sometimes, before I dragged them back into the trenches, they lost their breath. After the battle, I always felt that my hands were covered in blood and I couldn't wash them clean.

Two years ago, I would never have thought that now I have to rely on murders every day to survive. The Soviets would not stop and listen to my explanation, so I could only use my own weapons to calm them down. Yes, I have killed people and killed many, many people. I have shot and killed at least ten Soviet soldiers, and I have also used bayonets to close one. For this reason, I received two medals and was promoted to a post-reinforcement officer.

Speaking of killing, my dear, it is actually a very easy thing to do in this crazy and desperate place. There is no psychological pressure or any obstacle. I just aim my weapon at the body of the enemy in the distance, then keep my posture and fire. Soon you can see the other party struggle for a while, then fall down and disappear. At this time, all you need to do is turn the gun and aim it at the next target.

The Head of State equipped us with many efficient killing weapons, which is a very fortunate news for us who want to save our lives on the battlefield. My g43 rifle can automatically load and load the bullets. As long as I keep pulling the trigger, I can keep shooting. A 10-round magazine can be filled with 5 standard magazines, which is really a very useful weapon.

At least I was resting away from the front line the day before yesterday, with hot bath water and hot meals, so I shouldn't complain like that. However, when we passed by a row of bodies of Soviet soldiers who had not had time to be buried and came to a position just 11,500 meters away from Moscow city, the Soviet army greeted us with artillery. Four soldiers in the company were killed, and the closest one was less than 20 meters away.

Damn war has left me with you for a long time, but my longing for you has never stopped. God knows why we have to give up our beautiful life and walk here with guns on our backs, sacrificing thousands of lives to fight for a land that is hundreds of meters wide. Maybe the Head of State was right, but I can't see anyone's happy expression here.

Revitalizing Germany has always been my ideal, but my dear, I don’t know if what I am doing now is to be fighting for my motherland. I fight almost every day, but on the land of other countries, I swore allegiance to the national flag to the flag, Acardo Rudolph, but I am very scared now, afraid that the head of state I swore to be loyal to, let me fight this damn war to the end of the world.

I shouldn't complain so much, right? The main reason for complaining for so long is that my holiday has been cancelled again, and I have to stay on the front line and wait for the next rotation vacation time to come. Can't see you, making my mood worse all of a sudden, so please forgive my complaints and noise...

When I wrote this, a rough hand covered with black mud was pressed on the not-so-white letter paper. This hand belonged to his commander, the company commander of this company: "If I were you, I wouldn't have written this way. You know that the postal department has high requirements for letters. Obviously, what you wrote can only make them accidentally 'lost' your letter."

The company commander said as he found a place to sit down, looked at his subordinate, then lit a cigarette before continuing to speak, "They will not let this kind of letter be sent back to the rear. If you want to really explain something to your wife, choose some nice words to write it. Then your wife will know that you are still alive and can write letters to your family."

"I know, sir. I'm just venting. My letter was placed in the postal department yesterday. The things written on it may be described in a model essay." The German soldier who wrote the letter smiled and put away the pen in his hand, then unscrewed the kettle and took a sip of water: "You know, I'm a German teacher, so sometimes I like to write these things."

While he said, he teared off a letter with wonderful content but never passed the review from the letter paper, and put it in his hand to tear it apart. In fact, no need for others to remind him that such a letter cannot be sent home, so he really just vented and did not mean to mail it.

"Yes, Mr. Wenger. I know you are a teacher, and I also know you were a good German teacher." The company commander of the life watched his subordinates tear off the long paper full of words, and then began to pull it into pieces, so he felt relieved. He squeezed out a smile and said with some regret: "You shouldn't come here. You should stand on the podium in a small town school and talk about something the children are willing to listen to."

"Maybe, it's a pity that there are too many things that shouldn't be." Hans Wenger smiled bitterly, then threw the letter that had been torn into pieces under his feet, stepped on it twice, confirming that the letter papers had been completely destroyed by the mud in the trench, and then raised his head: "Maybe this war should have ended long ago, right?"

The company commander looked at Wenger and finally sighed: "Wengger, we have all sworn to be loyal to the head of state. Do you think you will complain? Everyone knows that the war has reached this point and should be over, but why do you still insist on it here?"

He paused, then looked at the barbed wire fences that were looming in the distance: "We all know that the war is to end, and the head of state knows it. But we must end the war as the winner, right? Do you dare to imagine? What would happen to Germany if we lose?"

Like Stalingrad, it became scorched earth, and then a large tract of territory was divided up like the German occupied areas. Their children might be sent to concentration camps, and their wives would become other people's playthings... If Germany loses this war, then everything they do for the head of state and the German nation will become bargaining chips of sin and bear it on every German in the future.

...

On a sunny afternoon in a small town in Bavaria, Germany, a slightly fat girl took a slightly stained letter from the postman. She used her white and tender fingers to tear open the curled envelope and began to look at the contents of the letter.

Honey:

Everything is fine on the front line. I can take a hot bath and have hot meals here. I don’t know how much effort they have to spend to build such a good front line camp for us.

Everyone around me is fighting desperately, they are dying for the motherland. I stand among a group of heroes and feel that the power is almost endless. We are working hard to defeat these Soviet people and strive for greater living space for our descendants. God testified that I have never been afraid or confused, because my love for you has allowed me to move forward bravely on the battlefield.

The Head of State is with us, Victory is with us, and my heart is with you. I will fight to kill the enemy desperately, General Kluge is as predicted as a god, and our army is always victorious... Maybe before winter comes, we will end the war, and at that time, I will bring a lot of medals to see you.

Love you, Hans Wenger.
Chapter completed!