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The Patrol (story in desc.)

July 13th, 1943.

 

In Kursk, there is the constant presence of Armor. There are tanks in one piece, tanks in 2 pieces, and tanks in a thousand pieces. It doesn't matter to me, as long as I stay alive. We were tasked with guarding a road today. All seemed calm, but a German squad showed up out of nowhere. They hit the hand of a T34 crew member that wanted to go out with us for patrol, but I am at a loss as to why he wished to go. That was our only casualty. The Germans weren't so lucky. When we got to them, they were decimated. I know for a fact I killed one. I did not have the righteous feeling I imagined I would. In fact, I felt a creeping sadness and gloom. Once we were done checking the bodies, we headed back. That is all I can write today.

 

-Yuri

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Uploaded on April 2, 2016
Taken on April 1, 2016