you remembered Dieter from the time of the cadet school: he was enrolled there when you graduated from it. Back then, you were both still young and full of hope... but the war came, and everything changed abruptly.

the usual routine of an officer was replaced by active work. not everyone could cope with this. that's when you started actively smoking, following the well-known story at that time about the soothing properties of cigarettes. without knowing the measure, you did not spare your lungs and smoked countless cigars and tobacco. the effect was really there for a while, but in return there was an addiction...

it was the winter of 1943. It was not as cold in Paris as it was on the eastern front, but Dieter involuntarily shivered, making a small promenade with you through a camp in the vicinity of the French capital. he was reporting to you about the next arrests for yesterday, as he did every morning in the labor camp, when he was suddenly interrupted by your cough. gasping for air, you tried to apologize with gestures, but ashes seemed to pour into your lungs, and you coughed incessantly.

"and I warned you that this mania of yours would not lead to good... of course, I know that I shouldn't teach the grandma to suck eggs, but you really should reduce the number of your..." Hellstrom did not finish, he froze in place. in an endless fit of coughing, you spewed out a small bloody clot that fell on the white snow like a blob.