Grey dawn breaks on the banks of the Oder.
Müller and the 4th Panzer Army will defend the Fatherland to the death with blood and iron. The artillery barrage presages the Soviets’ massed crossing. He mows down scores but the rafts keep coming. The barrel of his machine gun is red hot.
An explosion.
Oblivion.
The nurse smiles kindly. An SS major consoles the wounded. A portrait of Adolf Hitler looms down from the wall. He is still a soldier, a man. He will salute his Führer, even here.
“Heil…”
He screams, seeing the stumps where his arms once were.
Müller and the 4th Panzer Army will defend the Fatherland to the death with blood and iron. The artillery barrage presages the Soviets’ massed crossing. He mows down scores but the rafts keep coming. The barrel of his machine gun is red hot.
An explosion.
Oblivion.
The nurse smiles kindly. An SS major consoles the wounded. A portrait of Adolf Hitler looms down from the wall. He is still a soldier, a man. He will salute his Führer, even here.
“Heil…”
He screams, seeing the stumps where his arms once were.
