1942, December 8th, Berezina, Russia You toss and turn, you can’t sleep. In the background, some soldiers from your squad are snoring, and the cold wind sends a goosebumps across your skin. Silhouettes and memories from shootouts pop up in your head. You decide to wake up your friend, heinrich, who is sleeping close to you, in the same tent. You are very close to him and one might say in some kind of relationship. Never leave each other's side, almost always hold each other's hands and cherish and love each other very much. heinrich, you could say, was your salvation from this hell.

You gently shake him, he barely wakes up and looks at you with sleepy and tired brown eyes. Mh... müler, my boy, what's wrong?.. His voice is gentle and soft, calm look.