Two Renault trucks ran smoothly on the highway at 20 kilometers south of Stavanger.

"Slower, slower." Martin, the medical soldier who was escorting the car, shouted to the cab.

The driver knew that the wounded in the car behind could not withstand the bumps of the road, so he cooperated to slow down the speed again.

Martin gently touched the wounded man who was lying on the stretcher in the carriage and said, "Hold on for a while, we will arrive in Stavanger soon. The doctors there will perform surgery on you and you will get better soon."

"Cough cough" The wounded coughed violently, and the blood dyed the thick bandage on his abdomen even redder.

"I'm so seriously injured, can't I go home?" the wounded said stammeringly.

"Yes, you can go home." Martin said.

"Okay, I... finally...I've waited for this day. I...I don't want to stay in this...this place anymore. I'm going home!" the wounded shouted at the top of my lungs.

"You will go home. After the surgery, you can go home. A transport ship will arrive here at noon today. You can take a transport ship." Martin said.

The wounded had no strength to speak at this time, but just stared at Martin with hopeful eyes, then slowly closed his eyes and kept gasping.

Sarkozy sat at the rear of the car with his knees on his back, looking coldly at everything that had just happened with his only remaining right eye.

I glanced at several wounded people in the carriage. One of them had their abdomen torn by shrapnel, one had their necks pierced, and the other had their legs broken at the root of their thighs.

Sarkozy couldn't help but raise his hand and touched the bandages, revealing only one of his right eyes. It seemed that his injuries were the lightest. His left eye was gradually feeling light, and he must have not been blind. The worst consequence was disfigurement. Compared to the three unlucky guys who might see God at any time, he had already been given God's gift and saved his life.

Thinking of his current situation, Sarkozy was mixed with joy and sorrow. He was happy that he was so seriously injured that he could finally take a boat home; he was worried that after returning home, would Bruni and the children still like the disfigured self?

Rearing on the canvas of the carriage, Sarkozy cursed in his heart, "Damn Germans, you dare to bombard me with a ship, God will definitely punish you."

"Mr. Sarkozy, pull the curtains and don't let the cold wind come in." Martin suddenly said to Sarkozy.

Sarkozym nodded silently, stretched out his hands to pull the curtain at the rear of the car, trying to block the cold wind that kept entering the car.

"Hmm? What is that?" Sarkozy was shocked.

Through the gap in the curtain, Sarkozy saw a convoy rumbled behind the truck.

Why do these armored vehicles look so familiar? They seem to be... German! Sarkozy made a judgment that made him frightened.

An armored vehicle in the lead quickly chased after him. Seeing the two familiar steel helmets exposed on the front of the car, and the machine gun that was shaking the gun body pointed at him, Sarkozy suddenly jumped up in the car and let out a heart-wrenching roar: "German! Hidden!" Then he fell into the car.

Martin stared at the injured person with abdomen with a blind eye. He suddenly heard a shout, and then saw a pair of big feet kicking the injured person fiercely in the head.

The dying wounded was suddenly hit hard and could no longer hold on. He turned his head and stared at Sarkozy, "cough cough cough" and spit out a few mouthfuls of blood. As the fire of life was extinguished, his wide eyes slowly lost their spirits, and he died with his eyes closed.

"What exactly do you want to do?" Martin roared and pounced on Sarkozy, holding Sarkozy's shoulders and shaking them constantly, and asked loudly: "Look at what you did?"

"German, there are Germans." Sarkozy shouted as he stared at the door curtains of the carriage.

"Let the damn Germans go hell! I'm now..."

The dazzling light stopped Martin. Martin only realized that the truck had stopped at this time. A big hand lifted the curtain at the rear of the car, two heads with steel helmets appeared behind the carriage, and four eyes stared at him intently. Their eyes were very unfriendly.

Germans! How could they appear here? Martin instantly felt that his young life had become boring, especially when he saw the German pull out a pistol and point it at him.

"For the sake of your doctor, I can pretend that you didn't hear your statement. Take good care of your wounded person and don't do anything unfriendly." The German holding a gun said in fluent French.

To Martin, the sound was like a heavenly sound.

The German soldier climbed into the carriage and searched Martin's pistol - this was the only weapon of the French army in the carriage, and then jumped out of the carriage.

Through the gap in the tailgate curtain, Sarkozy and Martin saw two German soldiers standing at the rear of the car, and the rumbled convoy.

Looking at each other in a sympathetic way, a common idea emerged in the two of them, and we may never be able to go back to France.

Chen Dao glanced at the two French trucks parked on the side of the road, then picked up the telescope and continued to observe the city standing in front of him.

He sucked a fierce mouthful of the Universe cigarette in his mouth, and Chen Dao spitted off his cigarette butt in one mouthful, picked up the wireless telephone and shouted: "Lieutenant Wolf, send a telegram to your comrades and tell them that we have arrived."

About five minutes later, in the basement of a very dilapidated two-story building in the eastern suburbs of Stavanger, several men wearing civilian clothes but exuding fierceness gathered around the radio station, watching nervously as the radio operator wrote a German word on white paper - Jiefang.

Several people breathed a sigh of relief at the same time, then looked at each other and walked out of the basement one after another. Ten minutes later, continuous gunfire sounded in the city of Stavanger. With the cooperation of the Gislins, the Brandenburg troops, who had been lurking for a long time, fired the first shot to liberate Stavanger.

Less than twenty minutes after the gunfire sounded, the suburbs of Stavangan.

After a few cannons, the sandbag positions and guard posts arranged by the French army on both sides of the road flew into the air. A few strings of bullets flew by, and the French army, who were fleeing in various places, lay in a pool of blood.

With a "click", a No. 4 G-type tank hit the railings that blocked the road, and then stopped to the side of the road. Behind it were tanks, armored vehicles and trucks.

Chen Dao's bandit No. 1 stopped beside the ruins of the guard booth. Chen Dao jumped out of the car and waved the box cannon and shouted: "Call the Norwegians quickly and let them enter the city first."
Chapter completed!