El Imayid — January 6, 1942, midday
The ground trembled beneath the tracks.The sun, high and merciless, turned every glint of metal into a potential threat.Falk's platoon was spearheading the breach.
The first enemy lines offered no frontal resistance. The terrain seemed clear. Which made it all the more dangerous.
—They're either running… or they're waiting for us —Helmut said.
Falk didn't reply. He just lowered his visor half an inch and kept his eyes fixed on the low hills to the north.
**
The answer came like a whipcrack.
An Italian truck advancing on the right flank exploded, torn apart by a sharp blast: an anti-tank mine.
—Hard turn, out of the line! —Falk ordered.The platoon fanned out, covering each other without losing tempo.
**
Then all hell broke loose from an abandoned cluster of buildings.
Three anti-tank guns fired from the second floor of a crumbling structure. Nearby, well-camouflaged British infantry opened up with rifles and sticky bombs on the lighter vehicles.
A German half-track blew apart in front of Falk's Panzer.The radio lit up with screams.Another Panzer, from a sister company, took a side hit.Its turret launched into the air like a crown of smoke and steel.
**
—Konrad, right side, suppression fire!—Ernst, high explosive rounds!—Lukas, north flank, we're moving through the ruins!Falk issued orders like the chaos didn't exist.And his crew responded like a single precision machine.
**
One of the enemy guns was silenced by Falk's third shot. The second was destroyed by a quick Luftwaffe strike. The third… surrendered.
Literally.
Two British gunners emerged with hands raised, unarmed.They were young. Caked in dust. One was bleeding.
Falk dismounted briefly. Looked at them.And said nothing.
**
The fighting continued in other sectors.But the breach was made.
And it was his platoon that had carved it open—without breaking.
**
—How many went down? —Ernst asked at day's end.
—Too many —Falk replied—. But none of ours.
Then, gazing at the smoke still rising in the south:
—For now.