In recent days, everyone in Satan has thoroughly familiarized themselves with the terrain near Sword Beach, the nearby Ouistreham, the roads, the farmlands—they’ve walked the area countless tis, even traversing the alleys in Ouistreham back and forth nurous tis.
Reconnaissance must be completed before martial law begins, or it will be too late.
Gao Yang and Tarta strolled leisurely on the beach, silent, only occasionally exchanging glances, and for more complex matters, they communicated in sign language when out of sight.
Gao Yang’s phone suddenly rang, and after he answered it, he no longer used sign language but looked at Tarta and whispered, "Germany is sorted!"
The last obstacle was resolved, yet Tarta’s face remained serious as he nodded.
Gao Yang glanced at the completed fortress and whispered, "We need to find a way to get in."
Tarta whispered, "Let’s go try now."
Gao Yang shook his head and whispered, "No, Yarebin said he would handle it. We should wait here."
They stopped wandering around, found a long bench, and sat down. About half an hour later, Yarebin, leaning on a cane, wobbled over, and behind him was Vasily, acting as if he were ready to protect him at any mont.
Upon seeing Gao Yang and the others, the hunched Yarebin slowly sat beside Gao Yang and whispered, "Did you bring the items?"
Gao Yang whispered, "Yes, six rounds."
"Give them to ."
Gao Yang pulled out six bullets ticulously wrapped in plastic bags, Yarebin discreetly grabbed them and pocketed them, whispering, "Martial law could begin at any mont. I’ll hide the items for you. Soone must monitor this place twenty-four hours a day. If these bullets are discovered, the operation must be canceled; prepare yourself ntally."
Gao Yang whispered, "I understand."
Yarebin rested his hands on the cane and whispered, "Prepare to head to Germany; your departure will be from there. There’s no need to worry about the matters here."
Gao Yang whispered, "I’ll be in Germany tonight, and tomorrow I’ll co back with the others."
Yarebin nodded. Then he pulled an olive-green beret worn by the British Army during WWII from his pocket, put it on his head, and said, "I’m going."
The beret Yarebin wore was adorned with extra badges, including the insignia of the Royal Norfolk Regint of the British 3rd Infantry Division, an honor badge representing participation in the Normandy landings, a badge for valiant combat, and another badge Gao Yang couldn’t recognize.
With Yarebin’s age, his deanor, and most importantly, the military cap, he looked like a World War II veteran.
Wearing the beret and dressed in a suit, Yarebin slowly walked toward the beach, casually stopping and looking at things, occasionally exchanging words with Vasily.
Finally, Yarebin approached the fortress; the workers noticed them but didn’t stop them from approaching the supposed off-limits fortress after seeing Yarebin’s hat.
Several workers wearing hard hats and shirts with badges approached Yarebin, one reaching out his hand from afar and quickly walking towards Yarebin, greeting him with respect in English, "Hello, you must be a veteran who visited here. Allow to pay my respects."
Yarebin, shaking slightly, extended his hand. After shaking hands with the worker, he loudly stated in a perfect London accent, "Seventy years have passed. I’ve visited here a few tis, but I think this might be the last."
"No, no, esteed sir, your health is great; I believe you’ll have opportunities to visit again. My na is Sherman, Sherman Foss, I’m also British, here to assist with preparations to commorate the great battle you participated in. Please feel free to let know if there’s anything I can help with; it would be an honor."
Vasily extended his hand, gratefully shook hands with Sherman, and loudly said, "Thank you very much, Mr. Foss. My father never forgets this beach; you surely know so of his comrades fell here."
Yarebin shakily pointed to the fortress, saying, "Back then, there were no fortifications here, nor were they arranged this way; they mainly used artillery against us, artillery."
Sherman quickly replied, "Sir, this is just a representation of the battlefield, not a complete replica of the past."
Yarebin nodded, asking, "Can I go inside and take a look? I’ll be back for the commoration ceremony, but the crowd will be too much then. Is that possible?"
Sherman imdiately said, "No, it’s just a replica. Of course, you can go in and look. Please follow ; I’d be delighted to explain everything to you. Please, co with ."
After Sherman exchanged a few words in French with others, they all shook hands with Yarebin, warmly saying a few things. Yarebin then proceeded into the fortress with Sherman’s assistance.
Inside the fortress, Yarebin looked around, standing at a shooting port, glancing outside several tis, nodding, "I still don’t want to recall those situations from back then, but we actually faced stronger attacks upon landing. You see, if there was a machine gun here, we’d be in real trouble."
The ground inside the fortress wasn’t solidified; it remained sandy. As Yarebin spoke, he swirled the sand with his foot, then discreetly dropped a bullet from his fingers into the pit, covering it with sand as he spoke.
Next, Yarebin buried another bullet under a different shooting port, then moved to the entrance, facing the audience seats. If soone were to shoot inside the fortress, they’d have to be at the entrance.
Spotting the opening, as he was about to step outside, Yarebin tapped the ground lightly with the cane and discreetly handed a bullet to Vasily, who was supporting him. Yarebin then freed himself from Vasily’s hold, smiling at Sherman, "I went inside fortresses back then too, but I didn’t need assistance at that ti."
After speaking, Yarebin walked outside, and as the entrance was narrow, Vasily stepped back. When Yarebin exited, Vasily gestured for Sherman to go first. As Sherman passed, Yarebin slightly stumbled; Sherman imdiately reached out to steady him, and Vasily swiftly bent down, dug a deep pit, and placed the bullet inside.
User Comments
0 comments from readers