Reorganization and Refitting Center – North of OrléansJanuary 16, 1943
The walls were clean. The windows had unbroken glass. The floor was polished. For some of Falk's men, it was the first time in months they had seen a building without bullet holes, blood, or fire.
The inspection officer wore a flawless uniform. He spoke with a Berlin accent and a mechanical tone. He read from a list without looking up:
—"Third Armored Platoon, Leibstandarte SS Adolf Hitler. Designated for full refitting. Prior to equipment assignment, physical inspection, basic psychological assessment, and technical aptitude are required."
Ernst muttered under his breath:
—"No one asked if we were healthy when they were shooting at us."
Konrad didn't smile, but the thought passed through his eyes.
One by one, the men passed through the stations: quick medical checks, hearing and vision tests, reflex assessments. Standard questions.
—"Have you slept well in recent days?"
—"I slept on a barge surrounded by engines. Compared to El Alamein, it was the Ritz."
Helmut, stepping out, said dryly:
—"They're looking at us like horses before an auction."
Then came the technical evaluation. Falk was handed a folder. A Heer engineer in round glasses and a gray coat received him with routine indifference.
—"You'll be assigned a new model. Before that, we require a review of your mechanical and tactical knowledge. What type of armored vehicle have you operated up to now?"
—"Panzer IV. Various versions. Poland, Warsaw, Ukraine, Africa."
The engineer looked up for the first time.
—"And you're still alive?"
—"For now."
No further questions were asked.
By nightfall, the platoon returned to their barracks. They had passed all inspections. The results would be delivered the next day.
Falk removed his gloves, sat on his bunk, and remained still.
—"Tomorrow we'll find out what we're going to die in next," he said without irony.
No one answered. Konrad lit a cigarette. From his bed, Vogel murmured:
—"I'd rather die in a new one."