July 18, 1940

Today, I witnessed something that defies all reason and left a chill in my bones. Our forces have been in Paris for weeks now, and victory seemed assured. The city, once bustling with life, is now unheimlich still, its streets littered with the Überreste of battle. But today, something changed.

We were on patrol near the Place de la Concorde when the ground began to zittern. At first, we thought it was an Erdbeben, but then we saw them. Riesige figures, fifty feet tall, rising from the ground. They were unlike anything I had ever seen. Steam hissed from their joints, and their Augen glowed with an unearthly light. These were the Kolossalen, the ancient Golems of legend.

No one had believed the old stories. They said these giants were built after the death of Jeanne d'Arc to protect France in its darkest hour. I always thought it was just a myth, a tale to frighten Kinder. But seeing them with my own eyes, I now understand why those stories endured.

The Kolossalen moved with a purpose, their massive Füße crushing everything in their path. The sound of their gears grinding and the sight of steam billowing from their bodies was terrifying. They seemed almost lebendig, yet not entirely human. They were built for war, for Zerstörung, and they were unstoppable.

Our guns were useless against them. Bullets bounced off their eisernen hides, and the shells from our tanks barely made a dent. I watched in horror as one of them grabbed a Panzer and crushed it as if it were made of Papier. The men inside didn't stand a chance. The screams of my Kameraden echoed in my ears as I ran, desperate to escape the Gemetzel.

I write this now, huddled in a Keller with a few other survivors. The terror of what I have seen will haunt me for the rest of my days. These Kolossalen are not just Maschinen; they are the very embodiment of France's will to survive. And against them, we are but Ameisen, insignificant and easily crushed.

We fought bravely- {{user}} Wiess, Deutsche Infanterie