Iron Cross Fire

"How is Velorso?" Kuster asked. He spoke calmly on the surface, but he was thinking about politics in his heart.

"Very successful. The fire was big enough to drown the people in the city." Someone beside him said truthfully. He said the cruelest fact in the simplest words, even if the people in the city, including his own people, didn't care.

"That's good." Kuster cared less about these people than they did. Whether they lived or died had nothing to do with him.

"What's next?" he asked.

"Everything went well. We are all attacking and they are retreating."

This sentence made Kuster more relieved, so he asked the troops to start counterattack, sent away the group of officers, and hurriedly ended the meeting.

After the last person walked out, he couldn't hold back, and immediately ran to the telephone station to talk to his informant.

"How is it? How are you prepared?" Kuster spoke in his usual arrogant tone, and it seemed that the other side of the call was just his men.

"All the best, Marshal. All that's missing is your order." The people over there were from the organization that Kuster had established during the Caucasus period, called the 'Secret War Department'.

Now, under the management of his son, it has become a fairly large organization. At least the intelligence network in Austria-Hungary is quite complete, and the information in the Allied region is also under certain control.

The original date was not until next month, but looking at this situation, he will be able to get on a plane and run away in less than seven or eight days.

"Most of the German troops are stationed on the front line, and of course there are some gendarmes marching in the rear. We have observed that there are quite a lot of German gendarmes on the Swiss border, while there are relatively few in Franche-Comté and the mountainous areas in contact with Italy." The man analyzed rationally.

"What you said is the same as if you didn't say anything." Kuster was a little speechless:

"By the way, my soldier, what's your name?"

"Kalevi Antonio."

"Okay, please control the situation and help me return home." Kuster hung up after saying this, leaving him no room to speak.

He walked out of the command room, said a few words to the guards, and then paced back and forth at the entrance of the camp.

After a while, a man in military uniform and with strange behavior came and took the initiative to find Kuster and said:

"Mr. Marshal, 'we' are here, nearby, and can come at any time."

"That's good, I admire your speed." Kuster said with relief.

He looked back at the command center, and then walked around with a few guards.

When several people were on the hill, he suddenly asked a question:

"If I plan to leave, what will you do? Shoot?"

"Of course not, you are an Austrian marshal, not our officer, you can leave if you want, it's your freedom. Even if we open a way for you to go back, our superiors will not say anything. Of course, you'd better not think about it." A man who looked more honest said.

"Well, I definitely don't have such an idea. I just want to know what you think of a foreign officer."

"No opinion, Marshal." Another tall man said:

"There is nothing special for us, other officers are the same as you."

"Haha! Do you all like to imitate me?" Kuster said with some disdain.

"Maybe..." A dozen guards fell silent for a moment. At least there was communication before, not so quiet.

A few people accompanied him to walk in the scorched yellow wilderness that was bombed into the original, and then set off on the way back.

The craters along the way were shocking, and the skulls buried in the soil were still clearly visible. There was not even a plant leaf or animal cry for thousands of miles, and even no birds flew over here in the sky.

But they didn't care. They had experienced a lot of these scenes, and this was not a big deal.

Soon, in silence, they quietly walked to a twisted railroad track.

It stands to reason that if you keep walking along this railroad track, the side with more billboards is the French place; the side with more newspapers is where you come from.

Kuster looked closely and saw a group of papers scattered on the ground.

He picked up a piece and looked at it. It was a German war report, which was fired by artillery shells and unexploded missiles. The purpose was to make the people in the city retreat.

Kuster confirmed the route and continued to walk with the guards.

But after walking for a while, the guards around him felt something was wrong. This was not the way back.

They were quite unfamiliar with this place and didn't even know if there was such a place in the world.

The only suspicious place was Kuster, who led the way. Everyone looked at him, with anger mixed with fear in their eyes, and more obedience.

But unexpectedly, he not only did not avoid this kind of gaze, but also said confidently:

"Gentlemen, there is a city a few kilometers to the west. Let's stay there for a night."

"Marshal!" The tall man jumped out and worriedly dissuaded:

"It's not safe here, and we don't know which country the 'city' you are talking about belongs to. Let's go back. Your life is the most precious."

All people are born equal, this is bullshit. It can be seen from his words.

"Don't worry, it must be your city. I'm not a fool. And this can't be said to be deserting my post. I'm just changing the command location." Kuster explained. He looked very relaxed, as if it had nothing to do with him.

"What about the telegrams sent by the officers? We don't have a radio station, so we can't handle them!" the man said excitedly.

I just don't want to deal with them! Kuster snorted in his heart.

However, no matter how disdainful he was, he still responded seriously:

"Don't worry, look at the sky, it's still shining on our heads!" Kuster pointed to the sky, and several people looked up, and sure enough, a beam of dazzling light shot towards them, almost blinding their dog eyes.

"Look, he is floating towards our position. What are we afraid of?" he continued. Kuster was a firm materialist, but his words made people feel that he was a believer, and the new one was a cult.

What religion did he believe in? The Sun Cult? Several people tried to figure it out in their hearts, but they couldn't think of it anyway.

But the medical community can summarize what religion he believes in - mental illness.

"But Marshal! Listen to my advice, go back!" The tall man still refused to give in.

"But soldiers! Listen to my orders, go!" Kuster ordered him humorously.

A higher rank can crush people to death, not to mention that Kuster is a marshal, hundreds of times higher than these soldiers and non-commissioned officers. In comparison, it is like a mountain pressing down on them.

They have no choice but to obey Kuster.

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