Chapter 492: The Smiling Photograph

In a forest in Poland, a handsome young man sat on a large boulder. He was wearing an old Polish uniform, and a camera case was slung across his neck. The case was covered in scratches, as if it had been around for some years. In his hands, he gently stroked a somewhat yellowed photograph. His gaze was so soft, it was as if he were caressing his lover.

In the photo was indeed a girl, smiling very sweetly. However, the photo had clearly not been taken with the girl’s knowledge, because the angle was slightly off, and she was not looking at the camera. Instead, she was speaking naturally to an old woman.

“Kruk, it’s time to go!” a man with a rifle on his back shouted from not far away.

The young man on the boulder put away the photograph, slung the rifle that had been beside him over his shoulder, and then quickly jumped off the rock, catching up with his comrades who had already moved on. They were partisans in this forest. With their actions, they were proving one thing to the Germans: not all Poles were willing to be slaves.

These days, their life had become more and more difficult. The cold winter had exhausted their food supplies, and a few days ago, this partisan group of about 100 people had done something earth-shattering: they had robbed a German transport convoy.

Unfortunately, the supplies being escorted by the convoy were winter clothes and some spare auto parts, so they had not found anything useful to supplement their own needs. The partisans had burned these miscellaneous items and had once again retreated into the forests of western Poland.

Perhaps this attack had angered the Germans, or perhaps their activities had finally attracted the attention of the German army. Soon, German troops began to frequently search the areas where they operated. These German troops were equipped with armored cars and mortars, and their firepower was much stronger than the partisans’. So, after losing some men, the partisan group Kruk belonged to could only avoid these German search-and-destroy units.

But men must eat, and the partisans were not gods. They were now on the verge of running out of ammunition and food, so they had no choice but to organize a risky venture to the nearby villages and farmhouses to collect some grain.

The German methods of dealing with partisans were varied. The countermeasures, which were later summarized by countless military experts around the world, allowed the German army to skip the trial-and-error learning phase and enter a very systematic counter-insurgency mode.

The Germans used captured Polish and French armored trains to protect their railway transport system. Although these armored trains were somewhat outdated for frontline combat, they were very sharp weapons for dealing with partisans who sabotaged the railways. The trains were also equipped with armored cars for pursuit and artillery for support. For the partisans, who lacked heavy weapons, they were practically mobile fortresses.

Then the Germans adopted the notorious Japanese method of concentrated farming settlements, gathering the local Poles to create “no-man’s lands” and destroying the partisans’ living environment. Of course, the Germans did not use this method often, mainly in the mountainous areas.

In addition, under Akado’s direction, the Germans had formed special mountain warfare units based on their original mountain divisions. These special forces, operating at the company level and equipped with radio communication equipment and various special combat gear, specialized in counter-insurgency operations with the cooperation of the air force and artillery, inflicting heavy losses on the local Polish partisans.

Kruk’s unit was already the largest partisan organization within a radius of several hundred li. A few days ago, they had still numbered 130 men. Although they had suffered a setback, they still had a force of over a hundred.

Kruk followed his leader back to their carefully arranged camp. The few soldiers standing guard quickly gathered around and asked about today’s operational plan. The leader smiled and said to his men, “Today we’re going to the village of Tar to the west, to see if we can borrow some grain.”

Tar village? Kruk was taken aback for a moment, then looked at his leader. The leader grinned at him, then leaned in and whispered in his ear, “This is as far as I can help you. What you say to the girl after you see her is up to you!”

Hearing that they were going to gather food, everyone’s spirits immediately lifted. A dozen or so soldiers eagerly volunteered, hoping to go along. In fact, these old partisans all knew that when they entered a village, they could usually find something to eat. The local Poles would always squeeze out a little bit of grain for the partisans. Sometimes, however, it was too little and would be divided up and eaten on the spot, never making it back to the camp.

At a time like this, the leader had no better solution, so he let everyone go. He forcibly left a dozen or so emaciated men to guard the camp, and the remaining 80-plus men set off together in a long column towards Tar village.

“How did you meet that girl?” the leader asked, walking somewhere between the middle and the front of the column, chatting with Kruk beside him. The entire partisan group were experts at moving through the forest. Some were responsible for clearing the path, others for guarding the perimeter. They looked much more formidable than their predecessor, the “Polish Army.”

“I’m from Tar village, Captain,” Kruk replied, his rifle on his back as he walked with uneven steps through the woods. “I grew up with her. Back then, she was always laughing happily, as captivating as the sun in the sky.”

“Go and make things clear with the girl. We people, we live for today and don’t know about tomorrow. Even if the girl doesn’t mind, we still have to give her an explanation,” the leader said. He habitually patted his breast pocket, only to find that he had long since run out of cigarettes.

He gave a wry smile, then reached out and broke off a thin twig from a nearby branch, sticking it in his mouth.

“Captain, I know. I can’t give her happiness, so I’ve never told her how I feel. When the day comes that we drive the Germans from our homeland, I will marry her and give her the happiest life in the world,” Kruk said with a smile to his superior.

Talking all the way, they reached the edge of the forest and saw the small village of Tar in the distance. This was one of the few small villages that the Germans had not evacuated. The people inside had to pay taxes regularly to strengthen the local security under German control.

The partisans would occasionally return to the village to stay, but they were always well-behaved. After all, even a rabbit doesn’t eat the grass around its own warren. So the village of Tar had peacefully passed a cold winter, and then a peaceful first spring as Germans.

When the partisan group appeared at the entrance of the village, the people all came out to look at them. An old man recognized Kruk, grabbed his hand, and began to cry, recounting his unfortunate story. It turned out that the old man’s son had died in the war when the Germans occupied Poland. He had also been classified as a lower-class person and had been deprived of his original farmland.

This was the tragedy of the poor working people in the border regions during a state of war. In fact, everyone knew that their lives were not that miserable, but they still had to go through the motions and put on the expected appearance. When the partisans came, they would cry about how the Germans had stolen their land. When the Germans came, they would hang a swastika flag at the village entrance. When no one came, they would just live their lives as usual.

“There probably isn’t much grain here,” the leader, an experienced partisan, knew at a glance that the village was not wealthy. He said to one of his men, “Get what you can. Everyone can eat in the village, and then we’ll go to the next village and see…”

That subordinate also knew what he had to do. “Leave some food for us. I’ll take some men and guard the perimeter.”

Kruk soon walked to the door of the girl he had a secret crush on. Looking at the familiar gate, he suddenly felt an urge to cry. It was from here that he had left all those years ago, going to Warsaw to become a newsboy. Later, because he was literate, he had slowly worked his way up to the position of a photographer. And then, because of the war, he had returned to his hometown and had secretly taken that cherished photograph.

The young girl of yesteryear had now become a beautiful young woman. But his own dangerous identity made Kruk afraid to reveal his feelings to her. He could only stand silently outside the courtyard gate, staring blankly at the familiar scene. Is she married? Does she still remember that little boy from back then?

The mottled courtyard wall made Kruk feel sad for a long time. He didn’t even notice when his comrades had left his side. With a helpless sigh, Kruk once again took out the photograph from his breast pocket. He looked at the girl, envious of the radiant smile on her face.

His mouth was full of bitterness. Kruk looked at the photograph and turned away dejectedly. Let this be a farewell, a farewell to this extravagant love, a farewell to the person he had once yearned for, a farewell to his own younger self. From this moment on, he would forget those unrealistic fantasies and be a proper partisan, fighting back against the invaders he hated!

Thinking of this, he took a step to leave, but he heard a sharp gunshot. He instinctively ducked, quickly took the rifle from his back and held it in his hands, then hunched over and took cover against a nearby wall before observing his surroundings.

Soon, the sound of the partisans’ guns rang out. It was clear they had encountered a group of German soldiers. Kruk had no time to think. He ran with his rifle towards the center of the village, because he had to rendezvous with his teammates as quickly as possible to ensure his own safety.

At the entrance to the alley he had just run from, a photograph lay alone on the ground. The girl’s smile was still brilliant, as if she had no worries. A gentle breeze blew, lifting the photograph slightly and then letting it fall gently, this time face down. On the back, a short message was written in fountain pen: “I want to drive away the enemy, and then live happily with you. —Kruk.”

Published: 2025-08-30T04:13:12.000+00:00
Last Edited: 2025-11-29T16:57:05.000+00:00
URL: https://www.patreon.com/caleredhair/posts/mtr-c492-smiling-137683351

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