Death of a Reich

"Only seventeen years old, I was called up to serve in the Heer as the Russians advanced towards Germany. After a series of bloody defeats I found myself back in my hometown, Berlin, defending my city in what was to be the last major European conflict. My unit was tasked with defending the formidable Reichstag. We easily repelled the initial assaults from our fortified positions within it.

The next day the Ruskies brought their heavy artillery into position and unleashed a hellish barrage that killed two of my closest friends. It was near sunset when they breached to the interior; we cut down dozens of them from partially concealed locations among the rubble and from the balcony. Despite our best efforts, it wasn't long before we were overwhelmed and started engaging them in horrific and bloody room-by-room combat. The most frightening hour of my life concluded when I was incapacitated by the concussive blast of an errant grenade.



Some nights later I awoke in that same room, surrounded by bodies. Fortunately they thought I was dead, no prisoners were taken. Under the cover of darkness I escaped to a nearby, intact apartment building, where I changed in to civilian clothing and spent the next several days hiding in the company of an elderly woman. Sixty eight years ago today, the war was over and I returned to my home - or what was left of it." -Werner Koch