Officer x You (Forty-eight)
Overhead background, overhead background, different world
System text, private names and place names, private characters
Milanek and Emma sat on the soft piano stool, and you helped the children lift the piano lid, pressing it down over the crimson curtain that originally covered it.
Emma's little hands tried every note from low to high within her reach. The low notes were powerful and the high notes were crisp, and she shook her head happily.
Milanek was a qualified teacher. The language barrier didn't affect his teaching; music was the best way to communicate. He played seven basic notes within an octave, and Emma followed suit, pawing at them with a single finger.
You sit on the sofa in the piano room, looking at them, but you can't help but think. The anxiety and worry of these days are like a lingering fog that keeps circling in your mind.
Despite the passionate and heartfelt speeches on the support leaflets, Prague was not greatly affected by Warsaw.
On the one hand, unlike the Poles who are passionate, rebellious and bold, the Czechs are more focused on the present and can adapt themselves to the external environment in order to survive.
On the other hand, they took bloody revenge on the Czech people for the assassination of the acting governor of the Protectorate of Bohemia and Moravia two years ago.
After that, people were really scared, so Prague was relatively safe in a way.
The door of the piano room was opened a crack, and Susie squeezed in, nodding her head to signal you. You knew that Dalia was back, and you were eager to know the news, so you exchanged arrangements with Susie to accompany Emma and hurried downstairs.
"Daisha, is there any news from Berlin?"
"Ina, the telegraph office didn't send the telegram I sent that day to Berlin. They said we didn't have enough authority to send the Berlin telegram. That's really outrageous. Why didn't they tell me right then and there?"
Dalia sat alone on the sofa, holding an envelope in her left hand and wiping the back of her right hand across her eyes, as if she was secretly wiping away tears.
You sat next to her, she turned sideways, and you noticed that her eyes were a little red.
"It's okay, Daisha. You've been really hard at work lately. I'll think of a solution," you responded to the telegram.
Noticing that Dalia was in a low mood, he hesitated to speak, fearing that excessive concern would make her feel uncomfortable, but he also wanted to help his friend share her worries and solve her problems.
Finally you asked, "Daisha, what happened?"
"I received the review letter from Berlin."
After a moment of silence, Dalia smiled bitterly and waved the letter in her hand. The envelope was marked with the words "The Supreme Military Procuratorate of the Empire" (Der Oberreichskriegsanwalt), and you understood.
The Empire is carrying out large-scale property levies on the Junker nobles as a retaliation against the 720 resistance group led by the Junker nobles, and it also serves as a source of revenue for the huge military expenditure.
In these dire times, everyone has something to worry about. You sighed silently, moving closer to where Dalia was sitting and giving her a hug.
"Daisha, I'm so sorry. Our family will be fine. Don't worry too much..."
You can't try to resolve other people's suffering with just a few words, but you know that people need hugs when they are vulnerable.
Dalia buried her head in your shoulder, her back twitching. You felt the wetness on your shoulder and felt more and more uncomfortable for Dalia, but you could only keep patting her back gently.
The peaceful days were disturbed again. Recently, the two people in the family who could speak Czech were not in a good condition.
Darya was hit hard, like a proud tree with a broken branch, and needed some time to recover. Susie also had cold symptoms. Mrs. Havilova was just a part-time cook and had her own family to take care of, so she couldn't always bother her.
So, the responsibility of using ration coupons to collect food and daily necessities fell on you, even though you had only learned a limited understanding of Czech.
The distribution station is on Wenceslas Square. It doesn't look like a square, but more like a road running from northwest to southeast, and its shape is an extremely narrow rectangle.
The crowd lined up in a long queue, moving in an orderly manner in silent waiting, until the roar of a motorcycle not far away broke it all.
In the distance, a dozen motorcycles came rushing along Wenceslas Square, with red and black flags flying on them. The drivers were all wearing black military uniforms, like devils from hell. Escorting them in the middle was a Mercedes-Benz, which probably held some important person.
The people in the queue consciously moved closer to the side of the street shops so as not to affect the passing convoy. People wearing hats even took off their hats to salute each other, which attracted implicit contempt from the people next door.
As the noise of motorcycles at the end of the team gradually faded, the long line of people receiving rations also moved slowly.
The black wave that just came seemed like an insignificant episode. The Czech people were still like snails, wrapping themselves in bulky shells and surviving cautiously.
Until you heard the person standing in front of you utter a low curse -
"ílenáena" (Czech: crazy woman)
Only then did you raise your gaze, and the shadows of the dark convoy that came and went in a hurry had already disappeared at the end of the road.
A woman?
It turns out that everyone knew the situation of the people sitting in the Mercedes-Benz. It seems that this is not the first time that a motorcycle escort has been provided.
You tried to ask the system, but the system was pretending to be dead, so you didn't take it to heart.
It's finally your turn in the long line. You hand the ration coupon to the material distributor, pack the materials handed over by the other party into the large bag he carries with him, say thank you in his not very fluent and somewhat broken Czech, and leave.
…
The last time you arrived in Prague, you were planning to go for a walk around the Old Town Square, but Schleicher received the news at the last minute and took you back to Theresienstadt, and Daria and the others never went there again.
Dalia wants to go out and relax, and you plan to take Emma with her for a walk. It's not a good idea to stay at home all day. Susie doesn't want to go out, so she doesn't go with you.
As for the hair color issue, you decide not to overexert yourself emotionally for now, as half a bottle of hair dye can still last for a while.
Later on, I would wear a beret when I went out, and if the ends of my hair faded, I would just cut it off. There are always more solutions than problems.
But having said that, worries are still inevitable.
You pass the Astronomical Clock and walk along the eight-century-old Charles Street from the square all the way to the Charles Bridge. The turbulent Vltava River flows through its deep stone embankment.
Once on the bridge, Emma couldn't wait to take her short legs and trot happily on the bridge, stopping as she ran and looking at the statue with her little head tilted.
There are statues of saints on the stone railings on both sides of Charles Bridge every twenty meters or so. There are thirty of them in total, all of which are stunning works of Czech Baroque art masters.
The group didn't come to a complete stop until you reached the statue of St. John of Nepomuk.
According to Darya, in the story Mrs. Havelova told you last time, Jan Hus was gloriously martyred for challenging the church, while John Nepomuk was thrown from Charles Bridge into the raging river by the enraged King Wenceslas IV for defending the secrecy of confession.
The statue's head is surrounded by five twinkling stars, forming the iconic five-star halo. Legend has it that on the night he was drowned, five stars appeared and circled above the surface of the Vltava River.
"Yina, making a wish here is very effective. Do you want to try it together?"
Dalia turned her head and said to you, then touched her heart with her right hand and closed her eyes.
"Okay." You let Emma stand beside you obediently, and imitated Dalia's way of making a wish, reciting it silently in your heart.
Hope your loved ones are safe and healthy.
I hope there will be no more killing and war in this world.
I hope to bring Emma home soon.
Under your feet, the Vltava River surrounds Prague like a bright belt, and the rapids hit the Charles Bridge. This mother river of the Czech people carries away the wishes and thoughts in your heart.
…
Charles Bridge connects the Old Town and the Lesser Town. After getting off the Charles Bridge, you will arrive in the Lesser Town of Prague.
Emma insisted on having a toy puppet sold in a street shop far away. In order to thank the little guy for accompanying her on the trip today, Dalia decided to fulfill her little wish and let you stand there and wait for her.
At this time, a small group of teenagers wearing youth league uniforms, leather belts and gun belts, shouted the slogan "Blood and Honor", marched in neat steps, and strode proudly through the streets as if they were patrolling.
You led Emma to the side quickly. Emma stood beside her mother, staring with her big blue eyes, her little face full of curiosity.
A boy about eight or nine years old at the end of the team turned his head and saw the little girl with two pigtails. He seemed to be in a playful mood, stopped, and made a horrified expression at Emma.
Emma was stunned at first, then her brows furrowed. You sensed her underlying anger, half-crouched, and whispered soothing words to her. But the little girl, in a fit of rage, ignored her mother and, before you could catch her, charged at the boy like a rocket, bumping her head into his leg.
The boy was also angry. He grabbed Emma's pigtail and kept pulling it to the side, saying viciously in German:
"Bad thing, stupid thing, you are attacking! Are you a bug of the empire?"
"Emma!"
You ran over to protect your daughter, picking her up. Emma's hair was pulled, and she cried out in pain. You rubbed her and immediately apologized.
"Little boy, I'm so sorry to disturb your training. Are you hurt anywhere..."
"I'm going to tell—me! Dad! Dad!" Emma screamed, cutting you off.
"Emma! Stop being so willful! Apologize to your little brother now!"
Emma's character is too arrogant, so you slapped her and spoke a little harshly. The little girl felt wronged in your arms and cried heartbreakingly, calling for her daddy.
"Do you know who my father is?"
The boy roared angrily, his face red all the way to his neck, as if he was possessed, with a fierce look on his face, but if you looked closely you could see the moisture in his eyes.
"Damn you idiot! You idiot pig! You idiot! I'm going to arrest you! I'm going to have Frank arrest all of you! Put you in the camp! And let you eat the leftovers of those filthy y.u.z. pigs!"
"Little friend, we can discuss any issues properly. Please refrain from using vulgar language. The great empire hopes to cultivate a polite and well-educated heir!"
You are shocked. The child in front of you is obviously no more than nine years old, how can he speak so viciously?
You think that Emma is only two and a half years old. Even if she is wrong, it is your problem and should be directed at you. He should not insult your daughter in such a way with his words. The conflict should have been resolved peacefully.
But on second thought, the boy had just mentioned his father, which was exactly the behavior of a child seeking help from an adult after being wronged. Even though he was wearing the youth league uniform, his age obviously did not match the time of joining the league, and he was still a child. He must have been brainwashed.
"Hyde! What happened!"
A small group of youth league members who had already walked far ahead heard the movement behind them and also lined up and trotted over. The young man in the lead should be the leader of the team, with a small sword hanging on his leather belt.
The leader of the youth group team drew the sword from his waist, pointed it at you, and protected the boy named "Hyde". For a moment, all his friends rushed towards you with a common hatred.
You explained in a gentle voice, but they refused to listen until the patrolling SS passed by and all of you were taken away on charges of "damaging the security and order of the protectorate."
…
The SS headquarters in Prague was at Prague Castle. From Charles Bridge, along Neruda Street, you can reach the ancient monuments located on the hills of the Vltava River.
Inside the waiting room, you sat on a wooden bench, holding Emma in your arms. The little one had been through so much emotional ups and downs that she was suddenly exhausted and fell into a deep sleep, not caring about the trouble she had gotten herself into.
Although you have presented your honorary Aryan identity card to Major Frank, the head of the SS, he seems to have received some orders and did not let you go directly.
You patted Emma gently, feeling anxious. You wondered who the father of that boy named Hyde was, a major in the SS who had to obey orders from the second-class assault captain.
This chapter has a total of 12,000 words, but I can only release 4k of it. The remaining 8k is in the hidden ending:
Let's all come together to fight for our father Dresden, the bosses gather your tasks, the male protagonist's pure love
Red heart is the driving force of renewalbr>
No gift record
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