War Photographer's Notebook

Returning to the room under the platform familiarly, Wei Ran once again stood next to the half-track motorcycle pulling the trailer.

Now, although he has grasped some clues, he has no way to connect them together. It can even be said that although he found the castle in the photo this trip, it made him more and more suspicious.

"It really depends on you."

Wei Ran rubbed the tattoo on the tiger's mouth on his left hand, and after some hesitation, he took out the food box first, and placed the Sauer 38H pistol in it before, together with the PPK pistol that had just come out of the sarcophagus, on it. On the fuel tank of the half-track motorcycle.

Taking two steps back, Wei Ran gritted his teeth, and under the temptation of two hundred and seven hundred thousand dollars, he summoned the metal book.

Amidst the clattering sound of turning the pages, the metal quill also drew a pattern on the new page.

However, what Wei Ran didn't expect was that in this pattern, there was nothing about the half-track motorcycle, let alone the Sauer 38H pistol he brought.

Instead, it was just a slightly slender hand holding a small PPK pistol as if aiming at something.

But neither the target the gun is pointing at nor the owner of the hand is drawn. Not only that, but even the background is blurred and indistinguishable at all.

As the metal quill fell on the page, lines of text appeared below the pattern:
Character identity: 1. Soldier Victor
2. Armed Laborer Victor Loew
Returning mission: 1. Kill at least five enemies
2. Survive until 1945 and take at least two group photos

Why are there two identities this time?And with a last name?

As Wei Ran muttered to himself, the sudden white light instantly filled his field of vision, and he was able to see the props that could be used this time.

Kerosene lamps, binoculars, anti-tank guns? !

and also?Oil barrels, wine jugs, and flatbread stoves are also given?Isn't this a product of the 60s?Soviet cloaks and German boots also work?And pens and 1911 pistols and a blues harmonica?
How come?Flashlights, sapper shovels, gravity knives, and British canteens? "

Finally, the intense white light once again filled the field of vision, but Wei Ran's heartbeat was almost faster than the speed of light!
Anyway, after spending so long with the metal book, he has already found some rules, among other things, those props in the metal book are definitely not given as much as possible.

Even, he was almost certain that the more props he gave, the greater the danger he would face.This time it was clearly a war from 1944 to 1945, but some post-war products were given away, and it was clearly a war between Yankees and Germans, but equipment from the Soviets and British was given away. What does this mean?This shows that this broken book is not optimistic about his survival!
While he waited anxiously, the surrounding temperature dropped significantly, and he could even feel something icy and cold splashing on his face, neck, and back of his hands.

Subconsciously shivering, Wei Ran blinked quickly, recalling his identity and return mission, while waiting for his sight to recover.

Finally, he finally saw a glimmer of light and the white mist he exhaled.

He quickly turned his head and looked around. Wherever he looked, there were all straight, tall, at least waist-thick pine trees.

A little closer, there are some canvas tents with the logo of the US Army printed on them.And above his head, although there was a canvas canopy propped up, some freezing rain falling from the sky happened to be blown on his face by the breeze just because he was sitting on the side.

Look at yourself again, dressed in the standard dress of an American soldier, but his weapon is a bazooka!
But compared to these, the only thing he feels at this time is cold, not only the slightly thin clothes on his body make him feel cold, but also the soles of his feet feel cold like pinpricks.

He looked down at the pair of thin boots on his feet. Before he had time to decide whether to take out the cloak and boots in the metal book, a sergeant with an M3 submachine gun came over with his helmet on his back.

"Four yuan per person, save some food, this is our ration for the whole day today."

As the sergeant said, he grabbed four compressed biscuits from his helmet and handed them to Wei Ran, and then divided points among the remaining soldiers.

"Why is it such a ghost again?!"

A soldier who was also carrying an M3 submachine gun looked at the paper shell in his hand angrily, and had the urge to throw it into the bonfire.

"Captain Timov, I don't think we should waste our lives in this forest that should be set on fire."

Another soldier with an M3 submachine gun on his back gnawed hard on a torn compressed biscuit and said, "We should take the gun to the Hershey company's production workshop. I suspect that Mustache is shitting on their D ration production line. Woolen cloth."

"I'd rather eat mustache shit"

A soldier with a BAR machine gun in his arms, who was also warming up, gripped his cheeks and complained, "At least mustache's shit is soft and hot, unlike this stuff, it's almost harder than the heel of a boot. I should have gone to the dentist a week ago." , I can't chew this thing at all."

"Dentist? There's no dentist here."

The soldier named Timov put the helmet on his head, "Get ready to assemble, the investigation team and I will go first, we have an investigation mission."

"Why is it us again?"

The soldier who threatened to go to Hershey's to catch the bandit leader complained dissatisfiedly, and hurriedly stuffed the compressed biscuits he had just distributed into the grocery bag, buckled the helmet that was sitting under his buttocks, and stood up with the submachine gun .

"Kevin, don't be dazed."

Captain Timov jokingly urged, "Stand up quickly, don't you think I can't see you?"

"I'm still wondering if Mustache is actually hiding in Hershey's"

The soldier who was the first to express his dissatisfaction with the food sighed heavily, resignedly put the compressed biscuits he had just distributed into his pocket, and stood up with his submachine gun.

"he's definitely there"

The soldier holding the BAR machine gun and still warming the fire shook the ration package he had just torn open and said, "As Buck said, he must be shitting on the production line. I can taste it from this disgusting thing. It smells like shit."

"Hunter, have a chance to tell me what shit smells like"

The soldier named Buck waved his hand while calling to the soldier named Kevin and followed Timov to a distance.

"I'll let you know when you come back." The soldier holding the machine gun also waved his hands to say goodbye.

Before the three of them had gone far, someone blew a whistle in the center of the camp. Immediately, the soldiers who were resting around the campfire gathered and stood in two rows.

Roughly counting the number of people, except for the corporal who blew the whistle at the front, and the two who had been taken away by Captain Timov, there were only 8 people gathered at this time.

In other words, counting the three of Timov, this is a standard U.S. Army infantry squad.Of course, in terms of weapons and equipment, this might barely be considered a strengthened infantry squad.

No time was wasted at all, and no one described the next combat mission. The corporal who was blowing the whistle waved his hand, beckoning everyone to follow Timov and the three, and went into the forest with weapons in hand.

And such a squad, such a simple camp, who knows how many people are left in this man-eating forest?