Ultimate Weapon of Magic and Science

The food situation in the trench on the Charlemagne side of the Rhine Front has no other adjectives besides "it is getting worse".

Charlemagne has its own unique food culture, even if the military department yells "luxury is the enemy" every day, it is okay to send the gendarmerie to turn the trash can to see if there are skins or bones, to see if there are non-nationals who are corrupted by luxury (Yalfheim media called this the best joke of the year). Whatever the soldiers ate on the battlefield, the food in the barracks was still lined with linen tablecloths, served with brandy, cigarettes, and chocolate. If you catch a fat man on the streets of Charlemagne, this person is either an army executive or has something to do with army procurement, otherwise how can people jump out and worry about the three highs and arteriosclerosis when the citizens are in low blood sugar? Guy.

The corruption of the Charlemagne government and the army has always existed, and it remains an almost public secret. Taking advantage of one's position to gain benefits for oneself is completely natural for military officers at all levels, especially the scumbags of the logistics system. Tight on the front and tight on the rear. The frontline soldier was half hungry, and the logistics department still drank real coffee and knocked on the stamp-this is the real portrayal of Charlemagne at the time. But the things on the Rhine Front are really not strange to the maggots, and the dross, the dragons, and the tigers, dare not provoke the crown prince, let alone the gendarmes lords are directly stationed in various departments. Don't dare to mess up randomly. The reason for this kind of chaos is partly because of the chaotic logistics system of Charlemagne's army, and the other half is given by the Air Force of the Defense Forces.

As mentioned above, the excessively rapid material concentration causes physical channel congestion, resulting in many materials not being transported to the front line, and food is also one of them. In the warehouses at all levels of the station, various foods are almost piled up, and there are many high-quality ingredients. However, due to the low transportation efficiency, dispatchers can only choose between forwarding equipment and food supplies, and command officers often choose the former, which further compresses the share of transported food. Coupled with the fact that the Air Force of the Defence Force ignored the forefront position, all their thoughts were put into the "air strangulation battle" to cut off the logistics of Charlemagne, and the entire train of materials was blown up. This has further deepened the frontline food crisis.

The fatal shortage of supply and logistics-the ghost that once made the fellow robes on Guadalu desperate, is now raging on the Rhine front. After all, the Rhine Front is not an overseas island, no matter how bad it is, the oats, alfalfa, and turnips that can be fed to the animals can still be obtained. As for the taste... cough, any officer has already said, "The Charlemagne have been a herbivorous nation since ancient times." "Hunger can't be overcome. How can we defeat the enemy?". If anyone questions this, they will be sent to the gendarmerie.

Cyrion has an indissoluble bond with turnips for three meals a day. In the morning, turnip bread crusts, turnip chowder at noon, turnip pancakes and turnip cold lettuce at night. These lack of nutrition and lack of calories, not to mention the taste of the stuff will always torture the tongue and stomach of Silion and others. But now it's good to have stuttering. How can they be allowed to choose between three and four? The troops in some bad circumstances even forget about what the turnips look like.

There is a standard for measuring life spread from Guadalupe that is rapidly spreading on the Rhine front. Although this standard cannot be said to be an absolute standard, it is very appropriate to describe those extremely hungry troops.

Those who can stand up: can still live for 30 days;

Those who can sit up: can live three weeks;

People who can't stand up lying down: can live a week;

People who lie on the urine: still can live three days;

People who are speechless: can live two days;

People who do not blink: they can live to tomorrow;

What kind of tragic situation can we generally apply to this standard army? I believe everyone basically knows a little. It's no wonder that Charlemagne was so cruel to the defectors. The three meals on my own are not good, and I also scored the food support. Those guys who obviously had good food before, are personally unacceptable.

In fact, those wall head grasses are not the most tragic. Those guys who participated in the assault G5 observation post and escaped with injuries were called tragic.

Corporal Remack and all the officers and men holding the G5 observation post agreed that they had wiped out all the enemy troops that had raided themselves that night, but that was not the case.

Among the soldiers involved in the raid, nearly a hundred were wounded who could barely move. After the charge began, they fell behind and found that the situation was wrong, they immediately turned their heads and ran away, the original uphill immediately turned downhill, and the attention of the guards was attracted by those who launched the long live charge, I didn't expect anyone to flee back, but the wounded soldiers crawled back and forth into the trench. From beginning to end, Corporal Remack and his colleagues did not notice the existence of this group of people.

They were already wounded on their bodies. After a lot of toss and stray bullets and shrapnel injuries, 13 people died in the field hospital that night. The rest also died due to hunger and lack of medicine. When the medic, who was bathed like a butcher, shook his head, covered the face of the last man with the sheet, and asked the stretcher to lift him out. The man's brother, a sergeant who was serving in another company, howled. At that time, the sky was gloomy and gray, and the continuous drizzle poured all the people through. Cyrion served as a temporary stretcher to bring an ensign who had injured the pelvis and passed the broken leg that was piled up to the waist. Seeing the military police drag the sergeant away. It was an unforgettable scene in his life, and it was more deeply imprinted in his heart than any fierce battle.

"Asshole! Go shit! You murderers!"

The 190 cm tall sergeant was so powerful, and the four military policemen could hardly hold back the man with **** eyes and white saliva at the corner of his mouth. The field hospital was flooded with the desperate and miserable howls of the wounded soldiers, and at this moment, the sergeant's roar even overwhelmed the chaotic cry.

"You people who wage war! People who incite others to die on the front line! Dogs who watch other children die but drink themselves at home! One day! One day! The fire you lit will burn yourself Ash! People will drag you to the street and be hanged! You will all die! No one can escape!!! No one can escape!!!".

Cyrion never thought that humans could make such a roar, and never thought that a roar filled with all the anger, despair, and curses of a person would have such a great deterrent force, and even more breathtaking than the howling of dangerous species. . Everyone present froze until the gendarmerie awoke and shut the sergeant with a buttstock.

Everyone who was present that day received the password, and anyone who disclosed the matter would be sent to the military court.

That night, Lyon, like a frightened child, bit the quilt and turned sideways all night.

-How could it be forgotten.

——How could this kind of thing be forgotten!

If you succumb altogether, it will be easier, even terror will become tolerable. But if you think about what you see and hear, it will make you unable to live.

What the sergeant said is not to confuse and defame the public, but to tell the truth! In the army, all kinds of fraud, cunning, and meanness are common. Although so many courageous and fearless people charged and attacked the whole group and brigade again and again, but not to mention touching the enemy's side, even the hybrids hiding in the bunker didn't see anything, everyone was like wheat in the field The whole piece fell. The ground was covered with corpses, but the **** offensives were still one by one, without any change, never see the end! Didn't this all happen in front of the eyes but was pretended not to be seen?

"This is no longer an individual-individual, race-to-ethnic war, but a struggle between Charlemagne and steel, explosives, and high-heat beams! What are they thinking? Any army is in their situation, mutiny It has already happened. The Charlemagne can still maintain discipline and organize offensives. Why is this?"

Remark bit his pen and shook his head. The actions of the Charlemagne were simply illogical.

(If I rushed out of the field hospital back home at that time, then I would consolidate the pain and the various strengths I had trained into a revolution, and sing the pigs in the back who sang high-profile and sent others to the front to die All slaughtered. But now we only have tiredness, despair, hunger, pessimism, and helplessness. We have nowhere to go. The only thing that supports us is the damn, never-eaten turnip and one A little pitiful sense of mission. In order to prevent family and compatriots from being invaded by the devil on the opposite side, try to block the enemy as much as possible. Until the flood of war swept us all away.)

The dry and numb thoughts ran across his head, and the eyes of the godlessness swept across the battlefield. Dead body, dead body, dead body. Seeing no end, it seemed that the corpses of the whole world filled the brain of Cyrion no longer thinking, and filled the eyes of Remack.

Suddenly, a touch of gorgeous colors broke into this gloomy world. Remark and Cyrion's lifeless eyes simultaneously caught the dancing wings.

It was a butterfly with alternating wings of black, yellow and red flapping gracefully, and the carefree insect was chasing a golden leaf.

"Why are butterflies here?"

Remack muttered, and the note in his hand made the sentence.

Then the Corporal froze.

The periscope on the opposite side retracted into the trench, and an Adrian helmet emerged, followed by a calm and thin face revealing trenches.

"What is he doing?!"

The corporal exclaimed, and Paul on the side quickly turned his periscope, and he also froze.

The Charlemagne protruded out of the trench with a calm face, and extended his hand to the butterfly resting on a helmet. His movements were soft and slow, for fear of disturbing the butterfly. With a gentle smile on his face, it seemed to appease the child to sleep.

Cyrion was very calm. A complete relief-like pleasure filled the whole body in the moment when a touch of color came into view. Loneliness, despair, bitterness, pain, humiliation, anger-everything he experienced was vividly remembered, and at this moment, he faced everything calmly. What **** duty, what **** mission ~ www.wuxiaspot.com ~ what **** military discipline, these things he no longer take care of. He only wants the butterfly now.

The young man reached out his hand, as he often did in his backyard when he was a kid.

With a crisp gunshot, a mass of purple and white squirted from the back of his head, and Cyrion fell into boundless darkness.

"Hit! I hit! That's exactly 10 of them, you can apply for the second level Iron Cross!"

Sniper Heinz’s ghost roar spread across the entire bunker along the communication line, and it was at this time that music was sent to the point every day to ease emotions. After a while of the trumpet's prelude, sweet and gentle female voices drifted across the defense.

[Before the military camp,

Before the gate,

With a lamp,

It's still lit,

We are going to meet again there.

Just standing under that lamp,

As before, Lily Marlene.

As before, Lily Marlene. 】

With a soft song, Remark sighed for a few full seconds and continued his work. There are still two hours before the change of post. After that, he will write the draft into a formal letter and send it to his family. On the battlefield where life has disappeared at this moment, there is no time to mourn the enemy soldiers.

The comrades wrapped Cyrion with a blanket. When he died, he was lying on his back and lying quietly. His expression was so calm, so serene, so comfortable, without showing the slightest pain and sorrow, it seemed to be doing With a sweet dream.

That day, the frontline was surprisingly quiet. The front-line command on the Rhine Front is busy with the arrival of a big man. The defense's battlefield news has only a short sentence: No war on the Western Front (Im.Westen.nichts.Neues). 8) More exciting novels, welcome to visit everyone's college