“We worked our way forward into the trenches ahead of us. I fired a burst of flame as we approached every zig-zag in the trench and every enemy strongpoint. It was a strange feeling to serve this destructive weapon and it was terrifying tinder the flames eat their way forward and envelop the Russian defenders.

Soon I was colored black from head to foot from the fuel oil and my face was burnt from the flames which bounced back off the trench walls or which were blown back by the strong wind. I could hardly see. The enemy could not fight against flame throwers so we made good progress, taking many prisoners.

I left my heavier kit and advanced with a fighting knife and grenades. Dropping into a trench system, my section threw grenades around the corners and into dug-outs which were then cleared out by men with sub-machine guns. My knife was my only personal weapon and I used it once I came across a Russian desperately trying to load his rifle.

Without thinking I lunged forward and drive my knife into his stomach and twisted it, just as we had been trained. The man screamed, dropped to his knees and then fell onto his face. I moved on.”
– Hans Huber, German Army. Battle of Kursk, 1943.
As we always say here at Battles and Beers (TM) Every soldier has a story, and every story deserves to be told.