Just finished watching Frantz (2016)
Every picture in it is so beautiful. Because of the black and white, I feel like I have returned to that era. While watching the movie, I suddenly thought of a story I saw on a reader before. It was very similar, so I tried my best to find it. Finally found it in (No. 3, 2011, readers), the following is the story
Mr and Mrs Smith
◎ Zhao Yanqiu
In 2001, I was a visiting scholar at the University of North Carolina. On a Saturday afternoon in February, I was hurrying down Franklin Street in Chapel Hill, where the university is located. There was a light snow just a few days ago. It was sunny every day, but the temperature did not rise. The swish cold wind made my face hurt like a knife. I turned my face to the right to avoid the momentum of the cold wind. So when a grey-haired man in his 80s came up to meet me, I didn't notice.
"Hi, good afternoon." The old man greeted me.
"Hello, sir," I replied suspiciously but politely.
"Are you new here?"
"Yes, it's been ten days."
"Chinese, right? I saw it right away. My name is Smith, and I'm a citizen of Chaphill. We want to send you a newspaper."
"It's free," another female voice added.
At this time, I noticed that behind Mr. Smith, there was an elegant lady, also in her 80s, holding a bouquet of flowers in her arms. Seeing me looking at her, she took a step forward, stood beside Mr. Smith, smiled and said, "This is Mrs. Smith. We would like you to take a moment to read our paper. Thank you very much." Her voice There was a peculiar tone in it that made her words all the more charming. I learned later that it was the end of German.
Saying that, she handed me a flower.
The flowers are bright and fragrant.
The newspaper had eight pages in folio, with "Chaphill Peace Courier" written in cursive letters on the masthead, "Edited by Mr. Whoever you are, let us pray for peace and no more killing. God bless us!"
When I returned to my residence in the evening, I told my landlord, Lao Wang, that I met an interesting old couple today, a woman delivering flowers and a man delivering newspapers.
"Smith and Hannah!" Pharaoh laughed, "the old scenery of Chapshire is gone. Every Saturday afternoon, they take to the streets to deliver newspapers, except for the period when Hannah was sick and hospitalized in 1998, which was like this every week, and it was unstoppable. "
"They are so old, they still sell newspapers?"
"Where, they have money." Pharaoh heard what I meant, "they compiled the newspaper themselves, and printed 3,000 copies per issue once a week. Except for sending them to regular customers, the rest Just get it on Franklin Street and give it away. It's all free."
Americans have individuality, and today I met a couple. But what are their motives for doing so?
Ask Pharaoh, Pharaoh doesn't know either.
I couldn't help but develop a strong interest in the Smiths. It didn't take long for my curiosity to be satisfied.
This is the story of a British second lieutenant and a German girl.
After graduating from university in 1942, a British second lieutenant was drafted into the army and participated in the Normandy landings. One day after entering Germany, he was ordered to lead a small team to reconnaissance. During the reconnaissance, they encountered a group of German patrolmen. The two sides fought fiercely. The second lieutenant and his squad were dispersed.
Thinking that the war is about to end, and that he will soon be reunited with his wife Catherine, the second lieutenant is full of joy and his steps are much lighter. Suddenly, he seemed to hear faint footsteps. Immediately alert, he slowed his pace and slid behind a large rock like a cat.
There was no movement around, but the British second lieutenant's sixth sense told him that there was someone behind the stone. Since the bullets had been exhausted in the previous battle, he drew the dagger from his waist and touched it back along the stone wall. Turning around the stone corner, he was surprised to find that just in front of him, a German officer was looking forward with his back to him, holding a pistol. Hearing the sound, the German officer turned around quickly and raised his gun to shoot. The British second lieutenant kicked the German officer's pistol away with a kick, and the dagger quickly stabbed the German officer. The German officer dodged the fatal blow. He grabbed the right hand of the British second lieutenant holding the knife with his left hand. At the same time, he stretched his right hand to his waist and pulled out the knife. The British second lieutenant also quickly grabbed it with his free left hand.
The two were deadlocked like this, and the fierce battle turned into a contest of strength. No one dared to let go, no one dared to move, and no one dared to break the balance first. Their bodies seemed to freeze, and sweat rolled down from their foreheads.
The British second lieutenant was 1.85 meters tall and had a strong physique, but the German officers were equally as strong as cattle, and the two were evenly matched. However, the second lieutenant of the British army was exhausted because he had been away for a few days, and the German officers gradually gained the upper hand in the wrestling. The British second lieutenant felt the tip of the knife approaching him slowly. He felt that he couldn't hold it any longer and was about to collapse. The figure of his wife Catherine floated before his eyes. They have not been in contact for more than half a year. In the last letter, the wife told him that she was pregnant, and the child should have been born now, right? But he didn't even know if he was a man or a woman, and he was about to leave them forever. He felt a great sadness and despair. However, it was this sadness and despair that gave him the courage to take the plunge. The German officer who was caught off guard bent down in pain, and the British second lieutenant took the opportunity to stab the dagger into his chest, ending the wrestling forever.
The German officer was lying on the grass, bubbling blood bubbling down the almost hiltless dagger, quickly staining the surrounding ground. At this time, he noticed that the German officer was still very young and a second lieutenant. It was estimated that he was probably the commander of the German patrol squad he encountered just now. It seems that the encounter was really intense, not only were they scattered, but the Germans were also scattered.
The British second lieutenant picked up the German second lieutenant's pistol and prepared to leave. Suddenly, he found the German second lieutenant looking at him pleadingly, his left hand raised with difficulty, pointing to the right pocket of his jacket. The British second lieutenant walked over vigilantly, opened the pocket carefully, and took out a letter and a photograph from it.
The letter was sent from within Germany, and the handwriting of Juanxiu could be seen from a lady.
In the photo, a petite and beautiful German girl was looking at him expectantly and affectionately. The sun shone on her slightly squinting her eyes, making her look extra charming.
The fire of the German second lieutenant's life is about to be extinguished, and the depression and fear in his eyes have disappeared, revealing infinite care and reluctance. With the last of his strength, he said, in short English, brokenly: "This is...my wife...she, she is, pregnant...please, please be sure to pass these things over to her, and tell her ...I love her." He motioned the British lieutenant to crouch down in front of him, "I don't blame you...it's the damn war."
The British second lieutenant suddenly realized that he had done a cruel thing, and could not help but apologetically held the German second lieutenant's hand. After the German lieutenant died, he spent two hours digging a pit to bury him, and according to the information on his clothes, wrote his name, position and time of death on a large stone placed on the tomb. , and left his name behind.
Soon the war was over. In the jubilation of the whole country, the British second lieutenant embarked on the journey home. The wheels clacked against the rails, as if it were the sound of his heartbeat. I haven't received a letter from my wife for a long time. Are she and her parents okay now? Coventry has finally arrived. The second lieutenant came to his house, but everything he was familiar with had changed beyond recognition. The forest path he used to walk was turned upside down, and he and his newlywed wife spent unforgettable days and nights here in a small two-story building. Ye's house was only a piece of rubble, and the beech trees around the house were cut off in half and turned into withered roots. He managed to find his surviving mother. His mother cried and told him that Coventry had been relatively calm after being fatally bombed by the Luftwaffe in November 1940. Who knew that in September 1944, just after the successful landing of the Allies in France, the Luftwaffe flew to Coventry again. down. Since the city center was largely blown to rubble in the last air raid, this time the focus was on the suburbs. Two bombs landed where they lived, killing the entire family except for their mother, who happened to be out that day.
The second lieutenant came to the graves of his father and wife and sat silently for two days. On the third day, he bid farewell to his mother and went to the German city of Dresden to fulfill his promise to the German second lieutenant who was killed by him.
The city had also been bombed by the Allies and was in ruins. He followed the address on the letter to the home of the German second lieutenant. In front of him was a familiar scene, as if he was in his hometown after the bombing. As if he had lived here, he subconsciously followed the forest path and came to the back of the ruins. In front of a triangular tent made of burnt wood, he saw the beautiful girl in the photo. The difference is that she is already emaciated, her face is tired, and her stomach is obviously bulging. She was clearing out the useful things in the ruins, and when she saw the second lieutenant of the British army, she stopped what she was doing and looked at the winner who seemed to have fallen from the sky with a little panic.
"I'm an Englishman, my name is Smith," said the ensign, swallowing hard, in unskilled German. "I met your husband once. He died, and before he died, he asked me to take these things to me. brought to you and asked me to tell you that he loves you."
The girl silently took the letter and photo with a premonition, turned her head, and sobbed.
The British second lieutenant looked at her thin shoulders, lonely figure, and bulging stomach, and could not help but feel a deep pity and sympathy, and once again felt that he had done a cruel thing. At the time, as a soldier, this feeling was not so obvious, but after the war, as a civilian, he deeply blamed himself. He ruined a family, ruined the happiness and hope of this young woman, and caused a child who had not yet been born to lose his father forever. A strong sense of guilt tormented him, and he involuntarily knelt down in front of her.
"Forgive me, your husband was I... I killed it." He spat out the last few words with difficulty.
The girl turned her blurry tearful eyes and looked at the second lieutenant.
"You can scold me, hit me, whatever punishment will do." The second lieutenant lowered his head and said.
The girl stopped crying and pulled the second lieutenant up.
"I don't blame you," she said. "This is a war. Either you kill him or he kills you. If you die, your wife will be crying today."
"My wife is dead," said the English ensign in a low voice.
The girl opened her eyes wide and looked at the ensign in surprise.
"Killed in a German airstrike."
The girl apologetically took the hand of the British second lieutenant and approached the second lieutenant sympathetically.
The second lieutenant took the girl's shoulders. Although they had only just met, he felt that he had known her for a long time, and the two had a feeling of sympathy for each other. A few days later, he left, along with the German girl.
Needless to say, they are the current Smiths.
In February 2002, my study tour ended and I left the United States. After returning to China, I kept in touch with the Smiths for three or four years, which was later discontinued. In 2008, the landlord, Lao Wang, sent me a text message saying that the Smiths had passed away, only 30 days apart. The two were buried together. Their family erected a marble tombstone in front of the tomb with their story engraved on it. Below the story is this inscription:
They were supposed to be enemies, but shared encounters and love brought them together. Since then, their only business is to make the tragedy of the two never repeat themselves.
(Excerpted by Ye Wei from the early November 2010 issue of "Literary Circle", this issue has been abridged, and Li Xiaolin's photo)
Edited on March 3, 2017 at 23:32
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