Egypt — December 27, 1941
The new platoon stood aligned beside a row of vehicles. Four Panzer IVs, still bearing the fresh paint of recent maintenance, waited beneath the mid-morning sun like tamed beasts.
Falk walked between them with a steady stride. Uniform freshly pressed. First Class Iron Cross still unblemished by wear. At his side, as always, were Konrad, Helmut, Ernst, and Lukas.
He was Zugführer now. Not on paper—in the field.
**
The new tank crews were lined up, standing straight. Three full crews. Some had nervous eyes. Others already bore the dust of the front.
Falk stopped in front of them.
—My name is Untersturmführer Falk Ritter. You're under my command.—I'm not here to teach you how to fight. That comes with time, not speeches.—I'll just say this: in combat, you're only worth as much as the man beside you. If you don't watch each other's backs, you're worth nothing.
A pause.
—We move out tomorrow. Today, I want to know who I'm leading. One by one.
**
They stepped forward. Introductions. Ranks. Places of origin. Quick technical comments. Some expressionless. Others barely hiding tension.
Until he stepped up.
—SS-Unterscharführer Jürgen Adler —he said confidently—. Loader.—I'm from central Germany. I'm here because I believe our cause can change the course of the world.
Falk didn't respond right away. He looked at him. Young. Impeccable. Clear eyes. Too clear.
—What do you expect to find here? —Falk asked.
—Conviction, sir. I want the enemy to understand that every shot we fire has an idea behind it.
Falk lowered his gaze for a moment. Then nodded.
—Be ready to find something else.—And far dirtier.
**
As they moved away, Ernst muttered:
—Conviction? I just want to come back with both legs.
—Is he new, or has he just never fired at anyone yet? —Konrad added.
Lukas said nothing. He just looked at the boy.As if he already knew that war would take care of the rest.
**
Helmut was the last to speak, quiet and dry:
—Were you like that when you started, Falk?
Falk didn't answer.He just looked to the horizon, where another storm brewed in the shape of smoke.And clenched his fist.
**
The new tanks roared to life.The unit was formed.The platoon… not yet.
But that, like all things in war,would be forged under fire.