War Photographer's Notebook

Chapter 424 A Souvenir from the Battlefield
"Take a human head as a gift?"

Wei Ran muttered something, took the flashlight in the other party's hand, bent down and continued to read.

On the second floor of the metal shelf, there are all kinds of books. He randomly picked out one of them. Although Wei Ran couldn't understand what was written on the cover, after flipping through it casually, he was sure that it was It is a book about anatomy.

Looking at Makar beside him, Wei Ran stuffed the book back to its original position, squatted down and looked at the third floor of the metal shelf, which is also the bottom floor.

Fortunately, there were no objects from humans on this floor, but when Wei Ran opened the dusty wooden box, he frowned.

There are not many things in this wooden box, a set of World War II American military uniforms that are neatly stacked, but without military ranks or armbands, and an American flag folded into a triangle. The M1 Garand in a canvas gun bag, a Japanese-style command knife, and a small photo frame.

In the photo saved in this photo frame, there is an American soldier in military uniform, and in his arms, there is also a beautiful girl in a skirt.The background of the photo is a port that seems to be parked with warships.

“There used to be a 1911 here”

Makar next to him reminded, "But the gun is now on Jack's waist."

"So... these human bones were brought back from the Pacific battlefield?"

"Probably so"

Makar spread his hands, "Jack and I tried to contact Mr. Brown, but we didn't have his contact information."

Wei Ran nodded and stopped talking. He was even sure that [-]% of these human bones came from Japanese.

Don't look at the little devils and fools wearing a pair of pants beautifully today, but during World War II, especially after the Pearl Harbor incident, the American soldiers really didn't regard the little devils as human beings.

In those days, taking the head of a little devil as a gift was really not a joke, let alone the so-called straight male thinking.There are even rumors that even President Roosevelt of the United States once received a letter opener made from the shoulder blade of an imp.

But calm down and think about it, why do all these things that use human heads as gifts happen to American soldiers on the Pacific battlefield, but not on the battlefield with Germany?

Could it be that it just so happened that all the straight men and perverted soldiers were sent to the Pacific battlefield, and all the normal and polite ones were sent to the European battlefield?
Of course not. The main reason is that the little devil bombed Pearl Harbor and aroused enough hatred, but it is only one of the main reasons.

Counting down the generations, this stupid beauty has had a hobby of saving heads since he was fighting for territory with the Indians.

Although this hobby was later covered up by their self-proclaimed "civilized people", it was only covered up.

Coupled with their racial concept of white supremacy, as well as the self-indulgence of not fighting at home, and the hatred accumulated in Pearl Harbor, the American soldiers on the Pacific battlefield naturally picked up the craftsmanship of their ancestors again.

Cut off the head, boil it to remove the bone, and then tie a pink bow and send it to the girl you like. This overly skilled operation has almost become commonplace with the tacit approval of frontline commanders.

Having said that, why this did not happen in the European battlefield is a very realistic reason and the only reason, just because the Germans have the same color of skin as them.

When fighting against Nazi Germany, even in the face of the rank army in the concentration camp, the American soldiers were killed with a single shot at most, but no one ever thought of cooking their heads and taking them back as souvenirs.

But it was different when they fought the little devils on the uncivilized islands in the Pacific Ocean one after another. From the bottom of their hearts, they didn't treat the little devils in the trenches opposite them as human beings, so naturally they wouldn't have any psychological burden and moral burden.

Even this kind of concept and habit still had a market until the end of World War II. If nothing else, just look at the various absurd acts of the US troops stationed in Japan and even in South Korea in the years after the war.

On the other hand, among the American veterans who fought in the Pacific War, nine out of ten took the head of the little devil as a gift, perhaps to slander them, but one or two out of ten is absolutely common normal phenomenon.

For those American soldiers on business trips, the little devil's command knife, rifle, and human skull or hand bone are definitely the coolest battlefield souvenirs of that era.

Especially during the hippie movement in the 60s, the human bone souvenirs that inspired the love of hippie parents during the war were once again dug out from the garage or basement, and after being polished and waxed, they were placed in a stately place. The most conspicuous position in the room.

After some deliberation, Wei Ran roughly determined the origin of these human bones. After thinking for a while, Wei Ran said, "Makar, this thing is really not suitable for tourists to see. Although I'm sure most of them are very interested, this kind of thing is easy to give You are causing trouble."

"That's true." Makar nodded with some regret, "In this case, this dilapidated house will continue to be used as a warehouse here."

“The house could be renovated, even a 19th century western town bar would be nice.”

Wei Ran randomly gave the other party a suggestion, then picked up the M1 Garand rifle in the wooden box and asked, "Makar, can you lend me this gun for two days?"

"It's been here for a long time, and I'm not sure it's still usable."

Makar said in embarrassment, "You may not know, but if a weapon that has not been used for a long time has not been maintained and tested, it is in danger of exploding, and the recoil of this gun is also stronger than the lever rifle I prepared for you. It's bigger and not as comfortable to use as you might think."

"It's ok"

Wei Ran said with a smile, "The most I can do is take pictures with it, I'm sure I won't actually shoot any bullets with it."

Hearing this, Makar immediately breathed a sigh of relief, "That's no problem, you can use it as you like, if you don't want to leave, it's okay to give this gun to you."

"Then I'm welcome"

Before Wei Ran finished speaking, he had already carried the canvas bag with the rifle in his hand, pointed to the command knife still in the wooden box, and reminded, "Makar, that command knife might sell for some money."

"Jack has found a buyer"

Makar shook his head helplessly, "If I hadn't insisted on leaving it here for you to see, I'm afraid he would have exchanged it for cash."

"What are you going to do with that skull?" Wei Ran asked while climbing up the ladder with a gun in hand.

"Let's keep it here," Makar said indifferently, "It's not mine anyway, but I guess Jack will find a good buyer for it."

"Can this be sold?" Wei Ran asked while climbing up.

"This is the United States, not to mention human bones, even living people can have a clear price tag." Makar joked with a smile, "Of course, black people are worthless."

"Fortunately, there are no reporters around here." Wei Ran joked back as if following the trend.

"It should be said that fortunately there are no black reporters here"

The second Makar who climbed up said solemnly, "Otherwise he will be accidentally killed as a prey. Anyway, this is Texas after all. For blacks, this place is actually as dangerous as it was 100 years ago."

"So you are also a racist?" Wei Ran asked abruptly.

"I'm not! In my eyes, the difference in skin color is as meaningless as the wrapping paper of candy. As long as the candy itself is sweet, what color does the wrapping paper outside make any difference?"

Makar walked out with Wei Ran and said frankly, "Most of the time, I don't even think I am an American. In my mother's education since I was a child, I have always considered myself a Soviet person, even though the Soviet Union has long been Not anymore, even though I never left the United States."

Ah.
Wei Ran couldn't help sighing, for a moment he didn't know whether to pity the black man or Makar, or his mother, Mrs. Uma, Gorman's wife.But the only thing he was sure of was that at least the forgotten skull in the basement was definitely not worthy of pity.

And the reason why he borrowed the rifle dug out from the basement was naturally not just to take pictures, but also out of the great spirit of seeking knowledge to master another language.

Although he still doesn't know which battle the original owner of the rifle participated in, let alone why he brought back the human skull, as long as Makar didn't mistranslate the string of English written on the skull, , as long as the person who wrote that string of English didn't lie, then this time, he shouldn't face too much danger.

Thinking of this, Wei Ran didn't wait for Makar to fix the wooden door knocked down by him again, he took the gun bag, and couldn't wait to turn over and ride on the horse.

For now, the only thing he needs to consider is where to find a place that is safe enough and will not be disturbed to concentrate on his career.

(End of this chapter)