Sector 9K — January 30, 1943, 06:11 a.m.
The first ray of sunlight broke through the mist and smoke, tinting the smoldering battlefield with orange.
The Tiger was still there.
Motionless. Burnt. Solid as a monument.
Falk slept with his back against the hull, pistol still holstered, gaze lost behind closed eyelids. Ernst stood watch in silence. Helmut and Konrad shared a can of rations—no one knew where it had come from. Lukas smoked with half-closed eyes, the cigarette keeping him awake out of sheer respect for the silence.
Then came the sound of engines.
Tanks. Transports. Trucks. An entire column crested the horizon, bearing black crosses and the dust of the night. At the front, a new Panzer IV led the way.
From one of the vehicles, an officer jumped down before it had fully stopped.
It was Albrecht.
He looked around. Froze upon seeing the destroyed Panther. Then locked eyes on the Tiger, still standing, turret scorched and treads stained with dried blood.
He approached. Ernst saw him. Smiled with cracked lips.
—You didn't arrive late. But you didn't come early either —he said.
Albrecht didn't reply. He walked toward Falk, who slowly rose, as if waking from a grave.
—Well? —Falk asked.
Albrecht looked around. At the encircled soldiers watching from the rear. At the smoke. The corpses. The lifeless steel that had held back an army.
—I have no words —he said.
—Then sit down. Neither do we.
08:34 a.m.
A message came through the radio. Direct orders.
—Generaloberst Friedrich Paulus requests the presence of Commander Falk Ritter and his crew.
—Von Paulus? In person?
—Yes. At his command post. It's not an order. It's… a request.
Falk stood. Looked to his men. They nodded without speaking.
09:02 a.m. — VI Army provisional headquarters
Von Paulus stood—not with military stiffness, but with solemnity. In front of him, Falk and his crew entered, still covered in mud, unshaven, unwashed, unadorned.
The general looked each of them in the eyes. Then spoke quietly:
—I did not call you here for protocol. I called you because... you saved us.
Falk said nothing.
—History will speak of the encirclement. Of the relief effort. Of coordination. But I… I will remember the roar of a Tiger, and five men who didn't surrender. Without that, we'd be dead or prisoners today.
Von Paulus stepped forward. Extended his hand.
—Thank you.
Falk shook it.
It was the quietest, and the loudest, salute given in the entire war.
11:12 a.m. — Final situation report
Helmut read the radio message with a hoarse voice, while the others sat beneath a charred tree, the Tiger behind them.
—"Confirmed: the western breach has been secured. Axis forces have established an operational corridor. The Sixth Army… is free. Encirclement broken."
Silence.
Ernst let his head fall back.
Konrad closed his eyes.
Lukas smiled—just a little.
Falk lit a cigarette. Took a drag. Then murmured:
—Then it was worth it.