Southwestern camp near Kiev — Final hours of July 1941
The day never began.It simply refused to end.
The sky was gray and stagnant, as if night itself refused to let go. Among the trees and half-destroyed buildings, the men moved in silence. Some cleaned their weapons. Others wrote. No one spoke loudly.
Falk stood leaning against the turret of the Panzer. It had been cleaned on the outside, checked on the inside. There was nothing left to do. Just wait.
Ernst held his helmet in his hands. Lukas was sharpening a small knife on a stone. Konrad stared at an old photograph, its corners creased. Helmut was gone.
—"Where is he?" Falk asked.
—"Command tent," Konrad replied. "They say there's mail."
Minutes later, he returned.And he wasn't alone.
Behind Helmut walked a young soldier with a leather satchel slung across his chest and a cap far too big for his face. He was from the postal service. He stopped at each group, handing out envelopes, collecting others. He barely spoke—just nodded, read names, delivered.
—"Ritter?" he asked as he reached them.
Falk looked up. The young man handed him a letter.
—"Signed. Berlin."
Falk took the envelope. He didn't open it.
—"Anyone leaving tonight?"
—"Not yet. But they say wounded and documents go out before dawn. If you want to send something, write now."
Falk glanced at his crew.
—"Letters?"
Ernst shook his head. Lukas as well. Konrad didn't reply. Helmut only said:
—"Tomorrow will be too late."
Falk opened the envelope with a knife. One page. Small handwriting. A line from his sister. Another from his mother. No one asked how he was. They simply hoped he was.
He folded it. Tucked it into his chest pocket.And for the first time in weeks, he sat down.
Night fell without warning.Few fires were lit. They ate in silence.The Panzer was ready. So were the men.Only the soul hesitated.
A message came over the radio, brief:
—"Confirmed. Entry into the city at dawn. Objective: deep penetration and urban link-up."
Falk nodded.Didn't answer.There was no need.
That night, they slept beside the ruins, with the engine cold.And the silence…as heavy as the steel that surrounded them.