waldopaper

Approaching the Foul   

“Please, my General.  They are your cards, and you dealt them.” 

–VonHeiss

Guderian turned in the hatch,  took off his headphones , and looked down at Russian peasant.    It was all very specific.  There was no fear, only curiosity.  “Who are you?”  The Russian was looking at the PzK IV Panzer.

“We are German soldiers.”

“Does the Czar know that you are here?”

The year is 1941.  Princes were a thing of the past.  So were trenches.

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