Near Piotrków, Central Poland — September 4th, 1939
The landscape was no longer open. The Leibstandarte column moved through rural paths, winding between hills and wooded areas. Recent rain had made the ground treacherous. The Panzer IV advanced slowly, as if it too sensed something was off.
Falk checked the map again. There was a village at the crossroads. Small. According to intelligence, it had been evacuated. But something didn't add up.
"No clothes in the windows, no smoke from chimneys," said Helmut.
"No animals," added Ernst.
"And too many doors shut," Konrad finished.
Falk climbed up and signaled. Two more vehicles moved ahead. One turned toward the village square. Then everything happened at once.
An explosion. Then another. The "empty" houses opened fire with rifles and machine gun bursts. From a barn, an anti-tank gun fired at the second armored vehicle. The impact left it disabled, smoking.
"Ambush!" Falk shouted.
Lukas turned sharply toward the square. Falk aimed the turret at the barn.
"Fire!"
The shell hit. The structure collapsed. Screams. Wood and smoke.
Over the radio, voices from other units called for support. Chaos reigned. This wasn't symbolic resistance—the Poles had prepared the village as a trap.
From the left flank, a light machine gun tore into the German infantry. Falk took the risk. He ordered an advance. The Panzer charged the enemy position, firing once more. Silence. Then the Poles began to retreat.
When it was over, three armored vehicles had been lost. Two men from the company wouldn't return. Two more were badly wounded. Several tanks—including Falk's—showed visible damage: armor hits, worn tracks, cracked viewports.
Falk dismounted. He walked among the wreckage of the fight.
A fallen enemy soldier still had his finger on the trigger. Next to him, a family photograph lay stained in mud. In another corner, an ammo crate had been cobbled together from boards marked with names.
Helmut approached him.
"They weren't improvising. They knew exactly what they were doing."
Falk climbed back up. Konrad added:
"So did we."
"But we didn't come out unscathed," Ernst said, glancing toward the wreck of the second tank.
No one spoke after that. The village burned behind them.It wasn't a victory.It was a reminder: this war was real,and it was going to demand much more.
More men. More steel. More fire.
And soon, they'd need to rearm to keep going.