April 13, 1945, rain.
It was raining in Berlin.
The expression on everyone's face was gloomy, just like the clouds above the Berlin sky.
There was tragic news from afar. After a few days of intense battle on the streets, Vienna had finally fallen to the hands of the Soviets. At the same time, Koenigsberg had also fallen, those polar bears have finally achieved the dream they didn't manage to accomplish for a few centuries - claim the capital of East Prussia.
There has been no good news from the east line for a long time. The same was happening to the west line.
Anyone knew it was the end of the Reich.
As a soldier, excuse me for making too many comments on the fate of the Reich, but from a husband, a father perspective, I would rather the UA citizens arrive in Berlin first.
God, what am I even saying?
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April 14, fog.
It was foggy. Perhaps it is going to turn sunny soon.
