Kiev — Inner city sector, September 1941
The streets didn't surrender.And neither did the men inside them.
The Panzer IV rolled forward through dust, rubble, and shrapnel. The city burned in patches. To one side, buildings without roofs. To the other, shattered barricades. The ground was littered with debris and bodies. And still, the objective remained clear:
The Parliament.A symbol that had to fall.
—"We're close," Helmut reported. "Two blocks."
—"Scattered resistance," Ernst added. "Snipers, but no coordinated fire."
—"Too easy," Konrad muttered, frowning. "Doesn't feel right."
Falk didn't answer. He could feel the tension. The city was an open wound, oozing more rage with every meter.
Then it happened.
A brief flash from the ground floor of a half-ruined building.A roar.And the impact.
The Panzer IV jolted violently. The left track lifted half a meter off the ground. Sparks, smoke, and shouts filled the interior.
—"Direct hit! We're going down!" Lukas shouted.
—"Fire in the rear compartment! Evacuate!" Falk ordered.
Konrad was bleeding from his side. Lukas wasn't moving—his leg was trapped. Ernst and Helmut reacted instantly, dragging Lukas toward the hatch while Falk and Ernst pulled Konrad out.
The tank remained behind, smoking.It wasn't on fire yet...But it was no longer a Panzer.It was glorious wreckage.
A medical team appeared from a nearby street, pulling an improvised stretcher cart behind a light truck. Seeing them, one of the medics waved.
—"Wounded? Over here!"
Konrad was loaded up easily. He was conscious, pale, but lucid.
Lukas, however, wasn't moving.He was bleeding from the mouth. His eyes were fixed on something that no longer existed. When Ernst tried to lift him, he let out a faint, broken moan. His leg was shattered. His hip dislocated. His side… collapsed.
—"He needs evacuation NOW!" Helmut shouted.
One of the medics glanced over, quickly assessed him, and moved on.
—"He's unresponsive. We take the ones we can stabilize first."
—"NO!" Falk stepped forward, blocking his way.
—"He's unconscious! He won't survive unless you treat him now!"
—"We've got more coming in! Make room!"
Falk drew his pistol.
—"I said you TREAT HIM!" he roared, pointing it straight at the medic's chest.
Everyone froze.
—"Either you treat him… or one of you dies right here."
The silence was brutal. Even the urban fire seemed to fade for a moment.
The stretcher-bearer, pale, looked down and nodded. He turned.
—"Get him up. NOW!"
Lukas was loaded by four men. One of them muttered he wouldn't make it. Falk heard it. He said nothing. He kept his weapon raised… until they disappeared into the smoke.
Helmut looked at him.
—"You didn't have to."
Falk slowly lowered the pistol. Holstered it.And without looking at anyone, said:
—"Yes. I did."
That night, for the first time, they didn't fight.They didn't advance.They just waited.
Without steel.Without a tank.Without knowing if they would ever ride together again.
And Falk, sitting against a broken wall, thought—perhaps for the first time—that the price of reaching Kievmight have been too high