吴哲扭头看看他:“头儿让你来的?我没事儿。关于番西的战术情报。这家伙在伦敦刚好赶上纪念英国二战结束的活动,就是在来基地之前。喏,这架老轰炸机曾在二战期间服役,那天飞过伦敦上空,投下100万支罂粟花。这些都是昕扬拍的照片。配的音乐是《在弗兰德斯原野上》,在缅怀日那几天到处都会传唱这首歌。”
有一张仰拍的照片给齐桓的印象尤其深刻:轰炸机刚好挡住太阳,投下巨大的阴影,而无论阴影还是阳光中,都有无数殷红如血的花朵正散落飘坠,如密集的霰弹,又像巨大的雨点。
菜刀读着那首一战时写下的诗,和锄头一起倾听:
In Flanders Fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
[In Flanders Fields
By: Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (1872-1918)
Canadian Army]