Synopsis:

After the brutal Ukrainian campaign and the battles that culminated in Kyiv, the Leibstandarte SS Adolf Hitler is no longer the same. Battered but not broken, its armored core regroups in France just as the push toward Moscow grinds to a halt beneath the weight of winter—and of strategic doubt. No one knows exactly where the war is heading… except for a few.

As Falk Ritter and his crew receive a new long-barreled Panzer IV, still bearing the scars of the Eastern Front, a new destination looms: Africa.

In a sudden redeployment, part of the division is sent to reinforce the Axis campaign in the desert, where the forces of Rommel, Italy… and Spain—under the command of General Yagüe—are advancing toward Cairo, Palestine, and beyond.

But under the scorching sun, there is no shelter for the conscience. Among ancient ruins, dust storms, and enemy fire, Falk and his men must adapt to a different war—without snow, without trenches, but with the same shadow of death… and even more questions left unanswered.

History marches on. The Reich expands. But war, as always, moves faster.

Central Ukraine — February 5, 1942Less than a hundred kilometers from Kursk


The snow wasn't clean. It fell on rusted roads, toppled posts, the tracks of columns that had passed before and never returned. The sky was a dirty white—low and silent.


Falk's platoon advanced in tight formation. The Tiger II led the way, followed by the two Panthers and the Panzer IVs. The frozen mud cracked beneath the tracks. No one spoke over the radio. The front was near, and they all knew it.


Then, from the second Panther, a clear, firm, youthful voice rose:


"Auf der Heide blüht ein kleines Blümeleinund das heißt: Erika…"


Brunner was singing with sincere enthusiasm. His voice cut through the cold like a soft fire. At first, it didn't seem to bother anyone. It just floated there.


But inside the Tiger, the mood shifted.


Konrad stopped scanning through the sight. Ernst lowered his gaze. Lukas exhaled and tapped the accelerator instinctively.Helmut pressed his lips together.


Falk said nothing. He just listened. And remembered.


The first to fall. The boy who used to sing the same way on the road to Kiev. Who joked. Who talked about going home.And who died covering their retreat. Surrounded, alone, with his Panzer in flames.


When Brunner reached the final verse, Helmut broke the silence:


—He sang just like him. Cheerful. Pure. Like he didn't know what was coming.


—Maybe that's why he did it —Konrad replied quietly—. So he didn't have to think about it.


—Krause died a hero.I hope Brunner is luckier than he was.


A few hours later, the column halted at a bend in the road. On the roadside lay a broken sign that read: "Житомир — 80 km". Beyond it, open fields. Silence. No smoke. No animals. Not even crows.


The trees had been cut shorter than normal. The trenches looked hand-dug. In the distance, some mounds of earth didn't belong.


—They're digging in —Falk said over the radio—. They're already waiting for us.


—Kursk won't be an advance. It'll be a wall.


—Then —Falk replied— we'll either break our knuckles… or we'll break through it.


And Brunner, from his Panther, stayed silent.


Chapter 107 - Chapter 105 — Songs in the Cold