Officer x You (Forty-Seven)
Overhead background, overhead background, different world
System text, private character settings, private names and place names
A total of 10,000
The fear did not leave you for a while, like an endless emptiness. You sat with your head lowered, your right hand resting on your left hand, turning the wedding ring on your left ring finger that was worn backwards.
"Why, Ina, are you sympathizing?" Schleicher keenly noticed the subtle change in your mood.
"No wonder Feier said you're easily soft-hearted and full of sympathy. He's right."
You whispered insincerely, "I have no sympathy..."
In the past, you didn't know what Schleicher's position was before he came to Paris, and you were always careless with him. Now you understand, and coupled with your true bloodline that is unknown to others, you no longer dare to take him lightly as before.
"No sympathy? And you're still bowing your head so low? Ina, those filthy bugs are inherently evil. Living in this kind of environment, they still want to embezzle and steal the empire's wealth. You see, labor can't reform them at all. The only way to reform them is..."
Schleicher was so excited for a moment that he stopped talking at the end.
You have been with him for so long that you know that he actually understands the limits best, but it is just his personality that makes him like to jump back and forth between the bottom lines.
But even if he didn't say it, you, a time traveler, clearly knew what he had swallowed back - the only way to reform was through cleansing. And cleansing was for the rebirth of the empire.
Slowly, the fear gradually dissipated in your internal organs. You raised your head, your light blue eyes a little moist because of the fear just now, but it brought an unexpected effect.
Schleicher felt that your eyes were as crystal clear as freshly frozen ice, so beautiful that it was breathtaking. His eyes lingered on you for a long time, his throat swallowing up and down imperceptibly, waiting for your reply quietly for a rare moment.
But your position does not allow you to defend the elders of the YT Committee, even though you believe that so-called corruption is nothing more than the most humble way of survival in this terrible camp.
"My brother... um, I mean, are there any results from Fair's review?"
You hadn't gotten an answer from the system in your mind, so you turned to Schleicher and took the opportunity to change the topic to something like yt people and purges.
"I haven't received any news yet," Schleicher said sarcastically, seeming to be extremely fed up with the censorship that has been everywhere since the July 20th Incident. "The censorship department's workload has increased dramatically recently. Berlin is very busy."
"If, I mean, if the review reveals that there are indeed problems, what will be the consequences..."
Schleicher replied without hesitation: "He will be sent to the Eastern Front."
You're right, it's the Eastern Front where there's no return...
You stopped spinning your wedding ring, your heart spasming slightly with discomfort, you murmured, and your eyes, which had finally lifted up, now drooped again.
"Where could that be? The Eastern Front is so vast..."
Schleicher’s eyes fell on you, your left forearm, untied by the ribbon, resting on the desk, and he could clearly see the black tattoo if he leaned slightly to the side from where he was standing.
You have gone from hiding this black tattoo out of disgust at first to getting used to it now.
"If I'm sent to the Eastern Front, it's likely to be Romania or Prague."
"Prague?" You raised your head again, with an indescribable hidden expectation in your voice.
"Kitten, not Prague in the Protectorate of Bohemia and Moravia, but 'Prague' in Warsaw, east of the Vistula River."
Schleicher's voice became serious. The current situation on the Eastern Front was extremely bad. No one could still smile when talking about the Eastern Front.
The regions of Bohemia and Moravia had long been incorporated into the German territory. They were puppet regimes established by the NC in western Czechoslovakia. Today, they are protectorates under the orders of Berlin, and Prague is located within the protectorate.
The "Prague" in Warsaw that Schleicher referred to was actually the area east of the Vistula River, which was called Praga, but could also be called Prague, as the two pronunciations are very similar.
It turns out to be the "Prague" of Warsaw...
The fear that had just been suppressed now seems to start churning up in your stomach again. You really want to check your hair color right now, and you feel that you shouldn't have tied your hair into a ponytail today, but should have tied it up instead.
"Yina, why are you worried about this? The report clearly shows someone trying to take advantage of the chaos to trick Feier."
Seeing that you looked worried again, Schleicher temporarily suppressed the gloom on his face, and in the blink of an eye, his tone became relaxed.
"Disloyalty to the Party? That's sheer nonsense. A chaotic private life? Well... you know, before you got married, he was a notorious cold-blooded person. As for the confusion of bloodlines, who doesn't know about von Kármán's..."
The two words swirled on the tip of his tongue. He took off his military cap and put it on your head. He looked up and down at his masterpiece with satisfaction and said in a reminder:
"Everyone knows that von Kármán's 'ex-wife' was an honorary Aryan, personally approved by the Führer. No one's bloodline is purer than yours, not to mention that you're divorced now. Ina, don't worry unnecessarily."
But your bloodline has been artificially corrected, and there is nothing more daring than Feintz daring to openly deceive that man and let that man personally correct your bloodline. It is conceivable that once discovered, the consequences will be absolutely fatal.
You pretended to calm down, took off your military cap, threw it back to him, and started to sort out Kafka's postcards on the table. This was another big trouble. How should you deal with Kafka's manuscripts and letters?
This is first-hand material for future generations to study Kafka's life experience, a truly priceless treasure.
Seeing that you were no longer paying attention to him, Schleicher returned to his desk and sat down.
When he is not serious, his behavior is as exaggerated and dissolute as Don Juan, but when he is working seriously, he is very focused and serious. But you know, every word he writes may be taking an innocent life.
Schleicher kept moving the pen with his right hand and swung his left hand towards you, making a hissing sound due to the friction in the air. You understood what he meant and stood up to take the document that Schleicher handed over.
A freshly-written report, written in standard written language, and your job now is to type it out.
"To the Personnel Affairs Office of the Supreme Command,
Since the High Command is already aware of the basic situation, we will now provide a basic explanation: On June 23, a group of external auditors, including Danish diplomat Franz Wass, Danish Red Cross member Juul Henningsen, M. Loesser, a member of the German office of the International Red Cross in Berlin, and Imperial diplomat Eberhard von Taden, came to Theresienstadt for a visit and inspection.
Although the International Red Cross has now issued documents proving the authenticity of the Great Empire's labor reform and racial discrimination against the yt people, false rumors about Birkenau have already leaked."
At this point in Schleicher's handwritten statement, a large section was crossed out with a pen, smudged with excessive force. It was as if he had made a mistake, or as if he hadn't wanted to write it.
You continued knocking with a heavy heart.
"Therefore, we are now submitting a request to the Humanitarian Affairs Office of the Supreme Command to transfer some members of the Theresienstadt Family Camp to Birkenau to establish a new family camp for possible subsequent investigation by the Red Cross. To prevent the further spread of false rumors of the Reich's abuse of human beings, we recommend implementing a backup plan.
Director of Theresienstadt concentration camp
Presented by SS-Sturmbannführer Herbert von Schleicher
July 30th"
You sent the typed document to the telegraph operator outside and started thinking in your heart, Red Cross, yes, why didn’t you think of this charity organization.
Perhaps you could find a way to deliver Kafka's postcards through the Red Cross.
…
The typist's work did not last long in the afternoon because not everyone in the camp spoke German. There were still a small number of capos who spoke Czech, and Yvette did not speak Czech, so the work could not continue for a while.
Since arriving in Prague, you have been communicating in German, even Mrs. Havelova speaks German, so you have even forgotten the existence of Czech.
"Yina, you are such an unqualified secretary."
Schleicher's work progress was interrupted. He sat in a swivel chair and made half-seriously jokes at you across a half-height pile of documents.
This camp is simply a huge cage for you. You no longer have the energy to respond to his teasing. You are afraid of losing your temper and just want to leave this place as soon as possible.
"If you think I'm unqualified, you can find someone else. I don't want to work at all. I want to go back to the old town."
Your appearance reflects your heart. If you're worried, your face will inevitably look unhappy. Schleicher, noticing your discomfort, temporarily calmed down and stood up to walk over to you.
"Kitten, are you feeling sick in the stomach? Kitten, are you being disobedient?"
“…”
It's getting more and more outrageous, and you have to correct it: "I'm not pregnant, Schleicher, don't keep imagining it, I don't want to argue with you..."
"I'm not pregnant."
Schleicher came closer to you, his smiling face close to you, still that smile that was obviously malicious.
"The Empire has an order that pregnant women are not required to respond to calls. Ina, if you want to skip work, I can help."
You took a deep breath, raised your right hand to cover his frivolous face, and pushed him away.
"Herbert von Schleicher! Stop teasing me! I don't want to work, and I don't want to get pregnant! I'm not a tool for reproduction!"
Still getting angry so easily.
Schleicher wisely put away his smile and said seriously, "I can help."
"Help with what? How?"
"My dear Ina, of course I can help you learn Czech, but I can also help you..."
With your face close to him, he shamelessly lip-synched that word, and you felt that you might have been pissed off to death by him.
"Schleicher!!!"
Schleicher's teasing was successful. He shrugged and laughed. "Ina, I'm serious. I'm not very talented, but I'm fluent in six languages, well versed in teaching methods, and I'm still young. I have good physical strength and can provide attentive service."
“…”
You are completely speechless and ignore him. You think whatever you say next will hit his incredible sweet spot.
You lowered your head and continued copying Kafka's postcards as a backup. You planned to replace the originals and make a false connection. In NC's eyes, these manuscripts were just a pile of useless waste paper.
At two o'clock in the afternoon, a penetrating whistle sounded in the concentration camp, interspersed with a few bangs.
Schleicher stood up and stood at the window of Clay Castle, looking at the town across the river. The triangular forts, inner moats and multi-faceted forts were arranged in an orderly manner like falling meteors.
A bird flew across the vast sky, over the castle and the Elbe River, where the shadows of the wooden bridge and clouds floated quietly on the water.
"What is this for?"
You walked over and stood beside him, gazing into the distance, and all you could see was that fake paradise.
"Gather and stretch your muscles."
"Stretch your muscles?"
You are confused. When you were in Brunendonk, you had to do extremely intensive labor every day. After half a day, you would be so tired that you couldn't even lift your arms. People in the camp didn't need to gather together to exercise their muscles.
"The Eastern Front is short of men, and SS men could be transferred to the front at any time. If they don't stretch their muscles through musters, how can they serve the Reich on the battlefield later?"
Schleicher stood leaning against the window, his eyes following the bird that was confused about the situation. The pen in his hand was spinning, and his tone was understated, but it made people feel more and more unfathomable.
You are silent.
Bullets cannot be wasted, and train capacity is limited. The cheapest way to cleanse is to achieve the empire's goals through beatings and lessons, which is called a way of stretching the muscles.
In the distance, the bird was still flying, its feathers were shiny and bright, and its beak was singing melodiously without stopping. The singing did not last long, and it suddenly dived down from the sky. Then, there was a crackling sound, and electric current passed through the wire mesh. Its beautiful life was taken away so easily.
This camp is so terrifying it takes your breath away.
"I don't want to be here. I want to go back to the old town."
As you spoke, Schleicher continued to gaze, as if searching the sky for another possible bird.
"Kitten, wouldn't it be nice for you to stay here with me?"
He slowly turned his gaze over, savoring the mixed expressions of fear, worry, disgust, etc. on your face.
The warm fire in the man's eyes went out under your gaze. He suddenly clicked his tongue, then laughed at himself and turned his face cold towards you.
"You think this is hell too, right? But you've read Adler, haven't you? We are our own masters. All this is for the future of the empire. I thought you would understand."
You didn’t want to anger him, but you didn’t deny it either. “I miss my daughter. I need to go back to see her.”
Schleicher stood up straight, staring at you quietly. You saw a kind of crazy and incomprehensible disharmony in his unfathomable blue eyes. The fake light blonde hair color made you feel insecure, and your breath was stuck in your throat.
"You go."
After a long confrontation, the man finally spoke, but his voice became extremely cold, and the breath you had been holding on to completely relaxed.
You have to go back, dye your hair, and eliminate the potential danger.
…
Schleicher's adjutant, Eric, takes you to Bohusovice Railway Station, three kilometers from Theresienstadt. It's only an hour's train ride from here to downtown Prague.
The train station looked like any other, with signs and timetables pinned to the wall above the platforms. But the next morning, when Eric dropped you off, you happened to catch a train leaving Theresienstadt.
In the distance, a train of steaming, rusty cattle cars puffed away from the town.
The sick and emaciated prisoners had already filled the carriages from an invisible place. The rumbling sound of the train drowned out the barking of military dogs, and gradually everything returned to the quiet silence of death.
Eric explained his relationship to the SS soldier on duty and bought you a ticket in crowns. You waited until the next train arrived and then set off on your own to return to Prague.
You were not too worried after arriving at the station. Although you did not understand Czech, the road signs along the way were made in German according to the order issued by the former acting governor of the protectorate, Heydrich. They were clear and easy to understand. What's more, there were SS soldiers patrolling the streets everywhere with bayonets in their hands.
You returned to the Old Town Square and just as you opened the door with your key, you heard the chaotic and heavy banging of piano keys, shaking the air in the living room.
You understood, went back to the second floor, changed your clothes and washed your hands, then went up to the third floor to the piano room. Sure enough, Susie and Dalia were there with Emma. The notes came straight from the piano, filling everyone's body.
"Emma, Mommy's back!"
The keys stopped playing, and Emma jumped down from the piano bench, her big blue eyes blinking moistly, and she sprinted into your arms like a little rabbit.
"Mom—Emma is at home. I'm scared. Mom—Mom is bad. I miss Mom—I miss Dad—"
The little girl's voice was filled with tears, and your heart suddenly felt very sad. You quickly held her in your arms and coaxed her gently, then looked at Susie and Dalia apologetically. Fortunately, they both expressed their understanding.
Emma has never left you or the mansion since she was a child, and the person she is familiar with is Mandy. You did not consider these basic situations and handed Emma over to Susie, who she was not familiar with. The unfamiliar environment made her feel scared.
"Baby, Mommy is wrong. It's Mommy's fault. Mommy made my little baby worry."
You gently comforted the little one in your arms, but you were also afraid. Besides the self-blame towards your daughter, you missed your brother.
At noon, when Mrs. Havelova came to make lunch, you took the opportunity to ask about the situation of the Prague Red Cross.
Mrs. Havilova, wearing an apron, prepared food while replying, "Ma'am, where would you like to go? There's a branch of the German Red Cross in Prague, as well as the local Red Cross and the Sisters of Charity. If you want to send something, I suggest you go to the Prague Red Cross."
Through your communication with Mrs. Havilova, you learn why she suggested you go to the Prague Red Cross instead of the Prague branch of the German Red Cross.
Germany was not interested in international organizations, but attached great importance to the Red Cross. At the suggestion of that man, Germany established a national organization, the German Red Cross, and designed uniforms and badges that were as exquisite as those of the German army.
However, the German Red Cross organization gradually broke away from the management of the Swiss headquarters and completely obeyed the command of that man. Many donated materials sent there by civilians were secretly swallowed up by them.
You decided to go to the local Red Cross, but you were not familiar with the local situation in Prague, so you had to ask Mrs. Havelova to accompany you in the afternoon. Mrs. Havelova accepted the extra money you paid and agreed happily.
The main street leads directly to the Old Town Square. In the center of the square stands a statue of Jan Hus, the spiritual leader of the Czech people.
A rich history is engraved on the turquoise bronze statue. This great martyr stands with his hands hanging down, as if God himself, and his believers who follow closely are watching from below.
You boarded the tram, an old, moving wreck that rattled and rumbled along the way toward Skupkva Street.
Brakes screech, and you follow Mrs. Havilova out of the car and into the Prague Red Cross.
There are people at the Red Cross who can speak German, but they seem to hate the language and speak to you word by word.
You kept smiling and put all the letters about Kafka that Ottla had kept in the envelope provided by the other party. In the recipient and address section, you wrote the information you secretly recorded from Schleicher's report, "Danish Red Cross, Juul Henningsen."
Anonymous during his lifetime, but famous after his death. Kafka's beloved little sister preserved his manuscripts in such a way that later generations can glimpse a corner of Kafka's life through these precious manuscripts.
You witnessed history once again, feeling excited, and added a sentence to the letter: These letters belong to the Czech government and people. I hope you can forward them when peace comes.
Here, Mrs. Havelova met an acquaintance. Her face was stern but caring, and she was speaking Czech frantically. You were confused and it seemed that you really had to put Czech learning on your agenda.
The person Mrs. Havilova was communicating with was a boy about fourteen or fifteen years old. He was taciturn and accepted everything Mrs. Havilova said. His black eyes were like two deep, quiet pools, making people curious and wanting to find out more.
"Ma'am, I'm so sorry. This is my distant nephew, Milanek. He just came to see me from Brno a few days ago. I wasn't at home today, so he came over to donate something to the Red Cross."
Mrs. Havilova pushed the boy in front of you and explained awkwardly in German.
Milanek didn't understand German, but like all the people in the occupied areas, his black pupils showed his vigilance towards German speakers.
"Dobryden" (Hello in Czech)
Although you don't understand Czech, you guessed that the boy was saying hello to you.
You bent down slightly, gave him a smile, and spoke in the tone you just heard. Finally, you licked the roof of your mouth with the tip of your tongue and made the ending sound of n.
Although Mrs. Havilova hadn't spent much time with you, she knew you were friendly and took the opportunity to recommend you:
"Madam, the young lady has been fascinated by the piano recently. Do you want to find a young teacher? This child has been learning piano since she was young and her level is very high. Madam, don't you want to learn Czech? You can also let this child teach you."
You feel a little helpless. Your wife means well, but one of you doesn't understand German and the other doesn't understand Czech, so there is no way they can communicate.
But Mrs. Havelova looked like she didn't want to give up, probably because she wanted to earn more money to support her family. You felt embarrassed to refuse, so you agreed.
After completing their respective tasks, the group left the Red Cross.
The moment I stepped out of the door, the system's prompt sounded, indicating that the task was completed.
[Ding Dong——]
[Congratulations to the host for unlocking the hidden quest line, Kafka's Postcard]
…
At night, because you were too anxious and wanted to talk to someone, you asked Susie to come to your bedroom.
Emma slept in the middle of the bed, and you covered her with a small blanket, half leaning against the back of the bed, patting her gently. Susie also half lay on the other side.
"Miss, don't worry, nothing will happen. Once the young master retreats safely back to Berlin, we can go home."
After you came back from the Red Cross, Susie used the less than half bottle of light blonde hair dye left to roughly dye your hair, but the dosage was not enough and it probably wouldn't last long. If you wash your hair a few more times, it would be exposed.
When I left Paris, I was in such a hurry and didn't expect that I would not stay in Berlin at all. I didn't even have time to prepare all the hair dye.
"Susie, I don't think we should come to Prague. At least we still have our father in Berlin."
Emma lay on her side, moved slightly in her sleep, and mumbled a few words incoherently. It was unknown what interesting thing she had dreamed about.
Susie deeply understands your concerns. She just found out that Master Herbert, who always smiled at her every time they met, is actually the commander of a concentration camp. He obviously hates yt people the most, but he has to deal with yt people every day. How can he still smile?
You are unfamiliar with Prague, and there are Gestapo spies everywhere. Her lady is really in a dilemma, neither advancing nor retreating. She can't stay in the apartment all the time.
"Miss, the young master asked you to come to Prague because he was probably worried that there would be problems with his review, and the general might be re-examined..."
Susie had an idea. "But the general's current review results are fine. Having the general in Berlin is better than us sitting there restlessly in Prague! Miss, why don't we go back to Berlin?"
After thinking for a moment, you said firmly, "Okay, let's go back to Berlin."
It took Feynman several attempts to convince the British to dispel his father's suspicion of treason. Even though his father may face a review later, the problem should not be serious.
It would be more reassuring to stay with my father. At least he can help me get new hair dye.
The lights go out, you lie flat on the bed, seeking help from the system in the vast darkness of consciousness.
System, how is my father now? Berlin should be safe, right?
[Host, no one can change the course of history]
It's this sentence again.
The words choked you.
System, please, I'm just asking about your father's situation. Why are you even bringing this up with history...
【Zizizi... (electrical sound)】
What about my brother? What is he doing now?
Killing
The system's cold mechanical sound was emotionless, as if it was simulating the bloody scene.
You didn't speak to it anymore, just closed your eyes quietly, and a slight sigh dissipated into the deep darkness.
…
The next morning, because the system mentioned the historical trajectory again, you felt uneasy and decided to send a telegram to your father to ask him about it.
"Dad, I'm worried about your injury and how you're recovering. Last time you told Emma a story about the Little Mermaid's hair, the little one wants to continue. I look forward to our family being reunited soon. Long live the empire."
During the war years, telegraph resources were limited, the number of words sent was precious, and there were few ways for civilians to reach them.
You didn't dare to say it directly, nor could you write more, so you wrote a few metaphors on a piece of paper and asked Daria, who had connections, to send it to Berlin.
At the beginning of August, the days that had been non-stop since the outbreak of the 720 Incident finally slowed down.
On this day, you stayed with Emma in the apartment, studying, playing piano, and playing games. The closed environment gave you a sense of security that you could not experience in Theresienstadt.
After dinner, Mrs. Havilova and Susie had just finished clearing the table when an alarm suddenly sounded from the main street of the Old Town Square.
The source of the sound was only a few hundred meters away from the apartment, and it bounced off the surrounding buildings like a bouncy ball until it hit the neo-baroque building.
The frozen scream was infinitely amplified. Dalia was the first to react. She rushed to the window and slightly pulled open the thick black curtain.
Outside the window, the streets were dead and dark. No one would walk around when curfew was approaching. Only the Gestapo would arrest people at night. The whole city of Prague was like a wild beast trying to control itself from going crazy.
Seeing everyone's nervousness, Mrs. Havilova quickly explained, "Don't worry, Prague has never been bombed! It must be that a fighter plane mistakenly entered Prague's controlled airspace and accidentally triggered the air defense alarm!"
Dalia lowered the curtain and turned, meeting your worried gaze. Susie grabbed a bag and quickly filled it with water and food.
You have heard these words too many times. People used to say that Paris would not be bombed, but the Allied bombs fell anyway, smashing innocent people to pieces and destroying their homes.
"Ma'am, just because it hasn't been bombed before doesn't mean it won't be bombed again. Where is the nearest shelter to the old town?"
Emma covered her ears with her hands and stamped her feet, irritably resisting the harsh sound. You picked her up and rubbed her back with your hands to comfort her.
Mrs. Havilova clutched her apron with both hands, wrinkling one corner of it, and kept shaking her head in disbelief.
"It's too far, too far. There's no public shelter in the old town. Going out now would only be more dangerous. Madam, this place is so close to the Old Town Square, full of art and civilians. If anyone dared to bomb it, they would definitely be condemned by international public opinion!"
Dalia lifted a corner of the black curtain again, confirmed it, and said calmly, playing the role of a backbone: "There is no one outside. Ina, let's wait a little longer."
The power supply to the house has been cut off by the authorities. If the power is not cut off and a bombing really happens, it will cause a terrible fire and lead to a chain of disasters.
Everyone sat on the sofa, huddled together, drawing warmth and strength from each other, listening carefully to the stories being told, distracting themselves and relaxing their tense nerves.
"The first to break his promise was the Holy Roman Emperor Sigismund, who had sworn before God to guarantee Hus's safety, but now he personally advised the cardinal to burn him at the stake."
In the endless darkness, Mrs. Havelova told the story of the Czech people hundreds of years ago, as if she was praying a sacred prayer.
Her voice sounded like a sermon from a church, and the deadly screams of the air raid sirens could only be regarded as background noise at this moment.
"But Hus refused to retract his ideas, refused to go along with the evil, and continued to fiercely criticize indulgences and reject the doctrine that represented the authority of the Pope. Later, he was declared a heretic by the church, tied to a rough wooden stake, and burned in the fire."
Outside the window, although the air raid sirens continued, the shrill screams showed signs of subsiding.
Emma curled up in your arms. History is so sad and difficult. Everyone's face is heavy, and tears are in Susie's eyes.
"Even though he was burning in the flames, Huss remained calm. He sang loudly and told the Czech people that he had died for his beliefs and that there was no need for them to cry for him."
"He told the people to seek the truth, listen to the truth, learn the truth, act according to the truth, uphold the truth, and defend the truth to the death!"
As soon as he finished speaking, the power was restored and the chandelier in the living room lit up again. At the same time, the air raid sirens stopped and the alarm was lifted.
The light in the entire room was exceptionally strong, as if reminding people that the night was long but would eventually pass.
Facts proved that what Mrs. Havelova said was not wrong. The target of the fighter planes' bombing tonight was not Prague, but they simply entered Prague's controlled airspace by mistake.
…
The next day, you finally learned what happened yesterday through various channels such as radio, government announcements, and rumors.
At 7 a.m. on August 1, the Allies dropped tens of thousands of leaflets on the German capital of Berlin - a humanitarian ultimatum before a large-scale air raid.
It read in German: "The Allies will officially launch a bombing raid on Berlin in three days. Berlin civilians are requested to evacuate as soon as possible and seek safe shelter. Please tell everyone in Berlin that the people of the world who pray for peace send their greetings to them."
At five o'clock in the afternoon on August 1st, a national uprising broke out in Warsaw, Poland. General Komorowski, commander-in-chief of the Polish National Army, ordered a resistance against the German army, and the Polish flag was once again flying on the streets of Warsaw.
At 8 o'clock in the evening on August 1, fierce street fighting broke out in Paris, France, in response to the successful landing of the French 2nd Armored Division led by General Leclerc in Normandy.
On August 2, in support of the Warsaw Uprising, the Czech Communist Party and underground resistance organizations distributed leaflets on a large scale in the city and suburbs of Prague. The opening propaganda words of the leaflets quoted "Tonight's Prayer" by the famous Czech playwright Karel Capek.
"The curtain of destiny is slowly rising. Freedom, peace, and equality are the eternal pursuits of mankind. Anyone who resorts to violence will inevitably fail."
"Right now, a national uprising is erupting in Warsaw, shocking the world. After five years of waiting and forbearing, are we in Prague still waiting?"
"Whether our children will grow up to be Czechs or Germans, patriots or traitors, will depend on your decisions and actions."
"People, please remember that flames cannot devour the truth, power and authority cannot force the truth, and iron fists and violence can only temper the truth. We will defend the truth with concrete actions and to the death!"
At the same time, the current Governor of the Protectorate of Bohemia and Moravia was making an impassioned speech on the radio, fiercely condemning the illegal incidents and claiming that the most severe measures would be taken to crack down on resistance activities, and those who harbored and sheltered them would be regarded as accomplices.
Everyone sat in front of the radio and looked at each other, each with their own worries.
Emma's face is puckered, and she's holding a small stuffed animal with beautifully styled brown fur. You hold your daughter close to you, caressing Emma's little head, feeling a surge of worry.
Berlin, you can't go back.
Hair dye, what to do.
God, who can help you now?
Fear intensified the longing for him.
I'll stop here for now because I'm not sure how acceptable this chapter is. To what extent can you accept Ina and Schleicher? Kissing, borderline sex, sex, sex and pregnancy.
(I seem to have been laying the groundwork for a long time that Schleicher wants Ina to give him a child... But forced love is my XP, I'm afraid that everyone can't accept it, so I'm asking to what extent everyone can accept it... Since they are not the male and female protagonists, I can change the outline of this pairing at any time)
The easter egg is the male protagonist's friendly return, 800 words, it is what happened after he was screwed, no warning
Red heart is the driving force of renewalbr>
No gift record
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