The dust got into everything. Feldwebel Unger tied his handkerchief tighter across his nose and mouth, knowing it would make little difference, he could already feel the grit against his teeth. His platoon was sweeping across the steppes of the Eastern Ukraine, chasing the broken remnants of many Soviet armies. His Panzer IV had made it through a harsh winter and savage Red Army attacks around Kharkov, but now they were pushing back. —description from the publisher

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