My Third Empire

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A group of SS ceremonial soldiers with two-handed guns stood like two cypresses in two rows. Each of their heights had strict selection criteria, and each soldier had the purest Aryan descent. Their looks are the most satisfactory Germanic faces, so they are handsome and tall against the m35 helmet.

In the middle of them, people wearing black suits and black SS military uniforms, and people wearing army gray-green dresses with their heads down stood in a huge phalanx, and in front of them was the tall head, the lonely Back view.

He just stood so quiet, standing there like a statue, and not far in front of him was a polished coffin. In this coffin lies the former Prime Minister of the Empire, the old Augustus who was once called the Prime Minister of the Empire.

Akado stood here. He remembered that when the cemetery was completed, Augustus had a conversation with him here. The old man once said to Akado: "They are lying here, It ’s a kind of luck, because we are still alive and we can only carry our unfulfilled ideals and keep going. "

As the highest dictator of this empire, Akado would like to say to Augustus lying in the coffin: You are indeed lucky to lie here, but leave the messy things in this empire to be carried by others, right? What about a cowardly escape?

He really wanted to rush up, pull the skinny body out of the coffin, then grab the collar of the body and roar loudly: "You hurry up to me, so many broken things are waiting for you to deal with. This empire needs You, I ... need you too. "

...

On the ruins of "My Son" Stalingrad, a woman cried and stretched her hand towards her son, and the corpse lying in a pile of broken steps no longer had a chance to hear herself Mother's voice.

Several civilian men and women in ragged clothes pulled the mad woman so hard that she would not interfere with the simple funeral. Several kind-hearted neighbors are helping to dig a shallow grave pit to bury the poor child who died in a bad life.

Just a few hours ago, this lively little boy was still making money for the German soldiers stationed nearby to clean their boots. Many Ukrainian soldiers and German soldiers have high salaries. They use chocolate and some canned food to pay the bills. Let these Soviet civilians living in the occupied areas help, wash clothes or wipe shoes.

But now it seems that another shoe polisher with good skills has disappeared in this world. He no longer runs on dangerous positions for his stomach, and he no longer has to cover his ears in the corner of the ruins to spend the night of the fire. For the people in this city, death really seems to be a relief, a desire to be extremely beautiful in addition to hurting loved ones.

"God will be with him. In a beautiful paradise, he will live a happy and beautiful day." There, the guest guest priest is an old man with a beard, he was appointed by the Germans in the nearby occupied area "Guardian", a role similar to managers.

But obviously he did n’t do this kind of funeral work very often, so his lines are a bit too decent. Of course, this is already a very good funeral. After all, 99 people die every day in the city of Stalingrad There will be no such funeral of their own.

...

"Fire the gun" With the loud shouting of the ceremonial host, the neat guard of honor raised the steel gun in their hands as if they were cloned. These soldiers completed the password of the gun with the same action from the same angle, and the clothes rubbed The sound of the sound converged into a "hula" sound, which spread far away.

The crowd began to be agitated slightly, many women in black dresses began to wipe the tears in the corners of their eyes with white handkerchiefs, officers held their hats, most of them lowered their heads slightly, the whole atmosphere was so sad that people couldn't help shaking their heads The faint crying is so sad.

Father Augustus has maintained a very good relationship with the National Defence Force throughout his life, so in addition to the generals on the eastern front, most of the generals with heads and faces came to participate in this state funeral. Even more valuable is that the senior SS officials also regard the old man as their best friend, so the SS generals attending the funeral are as dense as they seem to be out of the nest.

Because Augustus formulated excellent policies for various stable countries, these policies revitalized the German economy, and these policies allowed German people to live a better life than ever before. Therefore, along the way, the civilians in Berlin made fun of the funeral scene, and the funeral in the cemetery was so large that the living people were envious.

The head of state personally supported the coffin, the super-standard etiquette team, the funeral list of hundreds of people, and even the governor of the British occupation zone rushed back. The location of the cemetery where Father Augustus was buried is the closest to the center of the entire cemetery, and everyone knows that the most central place here is the head's own "location".

"Boo" With the sound of a uniform gunshot, the smell of smoke spread out, and the clergyman with a huge silver cross on his chest softly recited the mourning verses. As a devout Christian, Augustus The funeral process even consulted the Archbishop of Rome. Who could think of a phone call that spans thousands of kilometers in the middle of the night, awakening the most powerful **** stick in the Pope ’s hall, just to ask how to bury a dead man is more reasonable? To a certain degree of power, even God must be in awe of three points.

...

The expressionless middle-aged man stomped the cold shovel into the rubble and the dirt, then plucked hard forward, digging up a mess of mud. He twisted his body and threw this shovel of dirt into the tomb, covering the mass of rags wrapped around the body of the little boy.

The sky is gloomy, it seems that it will be a heavy rain, but no one cares about that, because the sky can still see the Stuka 2 bomber looking for the target to drop bombs, and can still hear the rumbling gunfire and the distant place, that The sound of rolling machine guns.

The child ’s mother was still crying and tearing her heart, because her man had died on the battlefield a month ago, leaving her and an only child to live a hard life in Stalingrad. Originally, she was not very friendly to the arrival of the German army. After all, her husband was beaten by this group of outsiders.

But life has to continue, no matter how hard it is, she still has to raise her son, so in the end she does some sewing at home, and the younger son and a few children nearby In the same way, the shoe shining patch for the German occupation forces supplements the household.

Who knows that the good times are not long, a Soviet shell hit the side of her son, there is no shadow of the German army nearby, so only a few teenage children died. The civilians nearby did not want their children to be exposed in the wilderness, so they held such a simple funeral.

In such a hell-like city, no one knows whether he will die next second. But everyone is still trying to keep their last decent, insisting on drawing the difference between themselves and the beast. Although the people attending the funeral were all ragged, they could tell that they had organized their clothes.

The shovel was thrown over again, and some soil was covered on the child's body. The pale and childish face was covered with a little dirt, which looked very distressing. Everyone stopped talking, and the woman ’s crying became sharper and pierced.

...

"He is like my father ..." Akado read the written eulogy manuscript into the microphone with a trembling voice. He did not ask others to modify the eulogy he wrote himself, as if he was mourning himself Elder children are just as sad.

At the end of the funeral, all of them raised their right hands, and an ocean was formed in an instant. Although there was no shouting shout and no familiar slogan, the German ritual was still so solemn and still so passionate.

...

Two ordinary pieces of wood were tied into a cross and inserted in front of the little grave. There was no name of the owner of the tomb and no delicate wreath. But everyone knows that this is a cemetery, because behind this cemetery, there are exactly 300 same purposes, most of them are worn helmets, there are Germans and Soviets.

At the root of the building next to it, a group of German soldiers leaned on their backpacks and debris and ammunition boxes, watching the Soviet civilians burying dead children. Many people talked to each other, but no longer laughed in the past. The voices of these soldiers were all lowered by a few points, and the deep eyes under the helmets were fixed on those who were as devout as if they were doing mass.

A young German soldier came out of the middle of a group of German soldiers looking at the bustling, and he was supposed to be a grenadier unit belonging to the 14th Armored Corps of the main force of the n group army. The young man carrying the g43 semi-automatic rifle came to the Soviets who just wanted to disperse, and shouted the silent people in Russian.

"Your son has polished shoes for many of us. We love chatting with him." The young German soldier handed his pocket to the deceased's mother: "We have some potato flour here, maybe Not very tasty ... but please take our heart. "

The Germans killed their husbands, the Soviets killed their sons, the woman had no idea whether she should refuse the enemy's alms, she numbly took the bag, and staggered towards the ruin where she lived .

The third empire discussion group 280015943, everyone has been asking recently, so I posted it again, friends who like this book, or friends who like Kanshan, can be added.