North Africa — Axis Front, July 1941
The desert had no sound. Only wind and dust.
From atop a dune, Erwin Rommel watched through his binoculars. The British were pulling back… again. It was the fourth time that week they'd tried a counterattack. And the fourth time they ended up retreating to safer lines, leaving behind smoke, shrapnel… and buried surprises.
"They dig faster than they shoot," remarked a staff officer.
"Then let them dig their own graves," Rommel replied without lowering the lenses.
On the western flank of the advance, the Spanish Legion moved with ease. Their commander—a lieutenant colonel with old scars and a gravelly voice—coordinated the maneuvers like a group of hunters, not soldiers. They knew how to move between rocks, dry wells, and ancient ruins.
"It's not Europe, but the enemy bleeds just the same," one legionary said.
"And the sun shows no mercy," added another.
Colonial experience, heat-hardened discipline, and a more flexible command structure than the Italians made their presence increasingly valued by the Germans.
"They're tough," said a lieutenant of the Afrika Korps. "They don't smile much. But they shoot where they should."
The Italians, on the other hand, struggled. Not from lack of courage—but from poor planning.
Too many broken trucks. Too many officers out of touch with the field. Too much rigidity in terrain that demanded improvisation.
"The boys aren't the problem," a German captain said. "It's the system."
Rommel knew he couldn't do without them. But he also knew they needed constant artillery and command support. Had the combined fleet not secured the Strait of Gibraltar, supply lines would've collapsed.
"Without Gibraltar, Africa is suicide," he had written in a report weeks before."With Gibraltar… we might still make history."
Eastern Front — same day
The dust was different. Darker. Wetter. But desert rumors reached even Ukraine.
"They say Rommel broke through again," Ernst said while sharpening his knife.
"And that we're fighting with Spaniards," Lukas added. "The Legion, I think."
"Really? The ones from the civil war?"
"The very same. Looks like they know what they're doing over there."
Falk didn't join the conversation. He just listened. But in his mind, the map kept growing.
A war in Ukraine. Another in Africa. One more in the skies.And in each one… things were costing more than expected.
The sun set on two continents.The enemy was different.But the dust…the dust was the same.