Kiev — Eastern Outskirts, July 1941
The map no longer had arrows pointing toward the city.Only closed lines.A ring. A fist.A steel trap.
Falk listened to the report while wiping the scope lens with a damp cloth. Helmut handed it over without a word—just a nod. The city was completely encircled. Army Group South had sealed the northern approach. Hungarian and Romanian troops held the Dnieper crossings. And the 250th Division, alongside panzer units, had locked down the south.
Kiev was surrounded.But not defeated.
—"What now?" Ernst asked, leaning against the turret.
—"Now… we watch them squirm," Konrad said.
But Helmut's face was tense.
—"No. Something's moving."
Not even an hour passed before they saw it.
From the city, new columns of smoke rose. These weren't the remains of earlier strikes. They were fresh.And there were many.
—"Bombardment?" Lukas asked, puzzled.
—"Not ours," Helmut replied. "Theirs."
The first impacts came like poorly aimed thunder. Distant explosions to the east. Then closer. A warehouse blew apart three streets away. A Spanish infantry column was struck by shrapnel. A German artillery battery was disabled by two direct hits.
—"Rockets! Multiple launches!" an observer shouted.
—"Katyushas," Falk said, staring at the sky. "Damn them, they're striking from within."
The Panzer didn't move. They were under cover. But the ground trembled. Shards of metal fell. Black smoke. Isolated screams. Conflicting orders.
Falk closed the hatch.
—"Hold position. No response yet."
—"And if they come?" Ernst asked.
—"Then we send them back to the hell they just lit."
Thirty minutes of fire. Then silence.But it wasn't peace.It was the tight breath before a blow.
Kiev burned in several places. And yet, it still stood.
Helmut summed it up:
—"The ring is closed. But what's inside… is still fighting."
Falk didn't reply. He just looked ahead.He knew that soon—very soon—they would have to go in.