The endless historical battlefield that began with World War I

"We came over when the gas concentration was at its highest, taking advantage of the Germans' poor visibility," Joseph looked up from the map. "The German soldiers at the front who weren't protected had already fallen, and those who were protected were dealing with the gas and didn't have the strength to look out for the outside."

He paused for a moment. "Both forward forts have been cleared. The main German trenches are still further ahead, but those two forts are their eyes. Without them, there are blind spots in the forward machine gun coverage." He moved the map over and pointed to a point on it. "From here forward, there are three communication trenches. The one on the left is the widest and suitable for advancing—"

"Wait," Alfred interrupted him, "did you just come through poison gas?"

"Yes."

"The whole class?"

"The whole class."

Alfred looked at him, remained silent for a few seconds, then shifted his gaze back to the map and said, "Tell me, what do the Germans have in that trench on the left?"

Joseph continued his explanation.

After saying that, he casually added, "Also, I've given the German artillery some instructions; they won't be bombarding this area for the next half hour. You have half an hour to use."

Alfred paused again, his expression complex.

"You said hello," he said. "How did you say hello?"

"There was a field telephone in the fortress. We told them in German that the situation was stable and suggested delaying the shelling."

Alfred fell silent again.

Then he turned to the messenger beside him and said in an extremely calm tone, "Go and inform the rear that there is a half-hour safety window at the front line. Have the engineers follow up immediately."

The messenger replied "Yes" and ran off.

Joseph folded the map and said, "Push forward from the left trench, first suppress the machine guns of the second line of defense, and then we'll take the second one once the engineers catch up."

Alfred nodded and picked up the rifle.

*******************

At 8:00 AM, in the rear, at Captain Wilson's company headquarters.

The casualty statistics have been reported.

The fourth row suffered 37 casualties, including 11 deaths, all caused by poison gas.

The third row suffered 22 casualties, including eight deaths.

The first row suffered 18 casualties, including five deaths.

Second row, Lindenban—

zero.

Captain Wilson stared at the number for a moment. The messenger, thinking he hadn't heard clearly, was about to repeat it when he waved his hand.

"I heard you."

He walked to the window. The fog outside had dissipated, and the autumn light shone in, as calmly as if nothing had happened.

He recalled that a few days earlier, the young sergeant had walked into the cellar, placed a page of weather data next to his map, and told him that the wind direction might reverse.

He helped write a memo and sent it over.

But it didn't work.

The messenger stood quietly behind him, not daring to speak.

After a while, Captain Wilson looked up.

Where is Lyndon now?

"The report says that Lieutenant Alfred's support platoon has joined him and is advancing on the second German line of defense, Captain."

"Still pushing?"

"Yes, Captain. Also," the messenger hesitated for a moment, "Captain, a message just came back from the front that after Lindenban captured the fortress, he used the German field telephones... to get the German artillery... to delay their bombardment by half an hour."

Captain Wilson slowly turned his head and looked at the messenger.

"...What did you say?"

"That's right," the messenger said, looking a little bewildered. "Sergeant Linden answered the German call in German, told them the situation was stable, and then requested the artillery to delay the bombardment. And then... the German artillery really did delay. Captain, the engineers took advantage of that half hour to get into the trenches, and the position is now secure."

Captain Wilson stood there, silent for several seconds.

Then he took two steps toward the chair, steadied himself against the back, and said:

"His mother can even speak German."

The messenger didn't know what to say.

Captain Wilson picked up the phone and shook it twice.

"Major, you already know about Lindenban's situation—yes, that sergeant—I know this isn't the formal reporting procedure, but there are some things I feel I should say now: this man shouldn't just be a sergeant."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone.

"...I understand, Wilson, I will report this to my superiors."

"And, Major," Captain Wilson added, "he can also speak German, and clearly better than any of us."

This time, the silence on the other end of the phone lasted even longer.

"...Okay, I will report it to my superiors."

Captain Wilson hung up the phone and looked outside again.

Sporadic gunfire could be heard in the distance, indicating that the British army was still advancing.

******************

At 10:00 AM, in a shell crater near the second German trench.

The progress is stuck.

The Germans had positioned a heavy machine gun in the second trench, in a tricky spot, blocking their advance. Joseph and his men tried to suppress it with the two machine guns they had captured earlier, but the angle was too short to reach it.

Joseph and his men lay in the shell crater, peered out, and then withdrew.

"The angle won't work," McDonald said. "It's too far to go straight in, and there's barbed wire on the side, so we can't get around it."

"The roof," O'Connor pointed to a low stone wall on the right, which was only half intact, "is higher over there, and you can see where their gun barrels are."

"If you can see it, you can be seen."

"Then hurry up."

Joseph didn't participate in the discussion. He was looking at the half-wall, and after a while, he shifted his gaze to the back of the wall, where there was a section of communication trench that had been blown up. It was deep enough to go around to the side and rear of the heavy machine gun.

"McDonald, is it possible to crawl through that broken trench?"

McDonald glanced over there: "Yes, it's possible, although it might be a bit crowded, you'll probably have to crawl."

"How long will it take?"

"It takes about two minutes to climb normally, and one and a half minutes if you climb fast."

"Take two men and flank from the side and rear. We'll suppress you from the front. Once you make a move, we'll follow."

McDonald nodded, turned his head, and waved to Ross and Wilkins. The three of them crouched down and crept towards the trench.

Joseph and O'Connor remained in the crater.

O'Connor propped his rifle against the edge of the shell crater, glanced at the heavy machine gun, and said, "Wait for McDonnell to get in position?"

"Wait for him to arrive."

"Then let's wait."

O'Connor pressed his face against the butt of the gun and remained motionless.

Joseph lay down beside him, staring in the direction where McDonald disappeared into the trench, and started timing.

One minute.

One and a half.

"Bang—!"

A shot rang out from the side and rear, where McDonald was positioned; they were in position.

"Walk."

Joseph and O'Connor stood up at the same time. O'Connor fired first, blocking the machine gunner's line of sight. Joseph rushed out of the shell crater, Tom following behind. Two steps, three steps, four steps, reaching the mound, going around it, crawling through the gap in the barbed wire, another four steps—

The machine gun barrel turned towards O'Connor, but before it was fully turned, McDonald fired another shot from the side and rear. The machine gunner pulled back, and just as he was halfway back, Joseph was already within ten meters—

The grenade was thrown into his hand.

"boom--!"

A burst of fire erupted from the trenches.

Then there was a five-second silence.

Tom darted past Joseph, leaped into the trench, scanned the area, then looked up and gave a thumbs-up to the outside.

Joseph paused at the edge of the trench, took a breath, and looked back. The reinforcements behind him had already begun to move in their direction.

O'Connor stood up from the shell crater, shouldered his rifle, strode over, walked to Joseph's side, glanced at the wrecked heavy machine gun, and said:

"Were my shots good?"

"it is good."

"What's good about it?"

"The suppression effect is remarkable."

"You're being too formal," O'Connor said. "A normal person would say 'the shot is accurate.'"

"He's a good shot."

"That's more like it," O'Connor slung his rifle over his shoulder, took two steps forward, looked back at Joseph, hesitated, and finally said, "Your mask is fucking effective."

He took two steps forward, paused, then turned back and added:

"German too."

Joseph stood there, looked down at the makeshift gas mask he was holding, and a slight smile appeared on his lips.

He hung it back on his waist and caught up with the group.

The trenches ahead are still very long.