“Reinforcements are on their way”. They knew
just as well as us how it all would turn out. All of their
valuable promises were nothing but empty words. There
would be no newspaper article about the cavalry brigade
that got slaughtered by the German panzer. There would
be no news story about the five hundred men that met
their death at Mokra.
The Germans were right on top of us. Soon, we
would head out through that rusty, reinforced steel door.
We would mount our horses, and ride straight into the
hands of the Germans. Our commander came out from
the neighboring room. He stood in the opening, just
glaring at us emptily. I watched him slowly lean towards
the door frame in exhaustion. An unconfident hand
trembled through the dirty leather coat, seeking his last
cigarette.
With a shaking hand he slowly rose the piece of cheap
tobacco to his mouth and put it between his teeth. No
words were uttered as the commander let the fire from
his lighter spread onto the cigarette. During my three
weeks of deployment, I had learnt that he was father to
two young girls back home. He hadn’t gotten a chance to
say goodbye. No last farewells. No final words to his loved
ones.
e Twinning 2016
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