Führer Headquarters — Rastenburg, East PrussiaJanuary 31, 1943, 8:22 p.m.
The great map room was silent. Only the ticking of the pendulum clock and the occasional crackle of the fire filled the air beneath the stark lighting.
Adolf Hitler stood, hands clasped behind his back, staring at a fixed point somewhere on the Eastern Front map.
In front of him, seated around a long table, were his closest men. Keitel. Jodl. Himmler. Goebbels. Bormann. Speer. And beside a clerk stood a young communications officer, clutching a bundle of reports.
—Are you certain about everything in these documents? —Himmler asked sharply.
—Confirmed via radio, by General von Paulus himself, and backed by reports from both Dietrich and Manstein —the officer replied, sweating slightly.
Goebbels snatched one of the files and read it with growing intensity.
—A single Tiger tank —he muttered—. One Panther destroyed, two Panzer IVs knocked out… and still they held off three Soviet assaults, over a dozen enemy tanks, entire companies of infantry.Five men.And then… out of fuel, out of ammunition, they left the tank and fought on foot. Is this real?
—Yes, Herr Minister —the officer replied—. The encircled 6th Infantry Division broke its passivity and counterattacked when they saw the Tiger crew fighting. It was what kept the breach open.
Speer rubbed his chin.
—The name of the commander?
—Falk Ritter. Panzer commander of the Leibstandarte SS Adolf Hitler. Veteran since Poland. Promoted to platoon leader after Africa. There are... some prior incidents.
—What kind of incidents? —Bormann asked suspiciously.
The officer swallowed and drew another sheet from the folder.
—He's been involved in several minor disciplinary cases: verbal clashes with SD agents, reports of questioning orders in the field, even… one event where he drew his service weapon to force medical personnel to treat his wounded driver.
—He threatened the medics? —Keitel snapped, scandalized.
—Yes, but... he saved the man's life. The driver is still in active service.
Goebbels leaned back in his chair, eyes shining.
—And do we have images? Names of the crew? Letters? Testimonies? This... this is a gold mine.
—It's being gathered as we speak, Herr Minister. Field units are collecting material.
Himmler folded his arms, face grim.
—A man who disobeys, who challenges authority... and you want to elevate him as a symbol?
Goebbels smiled. A predatory smile.
—No. Not as a symbol. As a legend.A tank commander who stands alone. Who fights to the last breath. Who, even when his machine falls silent, keeps firing.A man and his tank. Against Bolshevism.Falk Ritter and his crew, against the red horde.
Hitler had not moved. He continued to stare at the map. Slowly, he turned his head.
—Are they still at the front?
—No, mein Führer —the officer replied—. They've been withdrawn for rest and re-equipment.
Hitler lowered his gaze. A pause. And then, clearly, firmly, without looking at anyone:
—Summon them. All of them. I want to see them here.