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Convicted of deserting the German army, Sven Hassel is sent to a penal regiment on the Russian Front. He and his comrades are regarded as expendable, cannon fodder in the battle against the implacable Red Army. Outnumbered and outgunned, they fight their way across the frozen steppe.... This iconic anti-war novel is a testament to the atrocities suffered by the lone soldier in the fight for survival. Sven Hassel's unflinching narrative is based on his own experiences in the German Army.

Stationed on the Russian Front and now equipped with armoured vehicles, Sven Hassel and his comrades from the 27th Penal Regiment fight on remorselessly... All of them should be dead: Life expectancy on the Russian Front is measured in weeks. But Sven, Porta, Tiny and The Legionnaire fight to the end, not for Germany, not for Hitler, but for survival. Wheels of Terror is a sobering depiction of war's brutalities, and the violence and inhumanity that the history books leave out.

Porta struggles to keep the heavy tank between the marching soldiers. One moment of inattention, and he will bulldoze an entire company. An enormous fireball strikes the bushes in front of the vehicle. The panzer soldiers jump head first from the tanks for cover. With frightened eyes and beating hearts they lay in the sun, waiting for death. A great wall of fire rises towards the sky. - Stalin organ, Heide mumbles terrified. Porta speeds up the engine. The tank plows through sun and water. They are near Moscow, 1941.

Bloody partisan fights rage in the Balkans. Grenades rain down over the streets. From the rooftops, a heavy machinegun fire strikes down on the hunting battalion. Moaning, the injured soldiers crawl for cover. Molotov cocktails explode with hollow roars, and the burning liquid splash up on humans and materiel. - Partisan, the major stutters terrified and jumps off the vehicle. Porta salutes him with an idiotic smile. - Reporting to the Major that they will probably make it hot for us!

It is freezing 38 degrees. Stalingrad, the winter of 1942-1943. A chilling wind sweeps over the plains, slinging ice crystals into our faces. We are marching past thousands of frozen bodies. The SS-general is marching in front of the convoy, silently and withdrawn. He is angry. We realized that a while back. A fanatic who wishes to die in battle. And the SS-general wants to take as many to die with him as possible. "MOVING STUDY IN THE STALINGRAD CAMPAIGN...

Rumor has it; they are being moved to Warsaw. Heide, who is always informed, claims that all hell is loose over there. There is talk of a German pullback from the eastern frontline. Thousands of British paratroops have landed and Polish soldiers converge on from the woods. But the Polish army is already doomed. Not only by the Reichsführer Himmler in Berlin, but also by Marshal Stalin. The Polish nationalists vainly beg the Red Army for help. But it has already been decided that the Polish communists are to take over Poland.

We hear the crawlers closing in. A T-34. They must have seen us, Tiny whispers. - Stay low until it is right here, then we run! The horrible clattering of the crawler comes closer and closer. I know this fear, creeping up the spine. It will mean certain death if they run just one second too soon. How we get up, I don't know, the legs move automatically. The tank wiggles over the hole and crushes everything in it. Then it rumbles on.

The Legionnaire swings the MG-muzzle. The smoke eats its way into the officers’ stomachs. They drop to the snow-covered ground, coloring it red. Bestial shrieks sound from the woods as a wave of fur clad soldiers storm out. They are near the Finish-Russian frontline. The machine guns snarl till the magazines are emptied. Old Man’s platoon, with Tiny the giant and Porta in the lead, fights a rough battle behind Russian lines.

At least one battalion of flame-throwers is swinging around like a pack of crazy wild boars. Long, flaming red tongues of fire are hissing from the towers, charring every living thing. From the GPU-prison stream shoals of red prisoners. A barrage of incredible dimensions is hammering down behind the Germans. It seems like the Russians have guessed that they are pondering an escape and want to stop it with an impenetrable wall of fire, spreading as far as the eye can see.

A special command from the convict regiment, wearing Russian uniforms, take over four Russian T-34 tanks. Remote reconnaissance far behind the Russian lines in Caucasus. The year is 1942. Hour for hour, the tanks roll eastward. Several times, Russian departments challenge them. We follow the soldiers in their desperate struggle to find their way back to the German lines. The distances are great, the friends are few and death is always right behind them.

Heide wails, jumps up and lands on the other side of the trench, where he slides through the mud like a bulldozer. Our tank starts backing up in full speed. Porta has clearly also spotted the madness lying ahead in wait of spreading death and mutilation. Nothing travels as fast as the rumor that the front troops have hit the dreaded mines. Suddenly everything goes quiet. Even the heavy Maxim gun stops. Everyone holds their breath and waits for the mine to go off.

It feels as if the entire area is blown up. A long rumbling explosion shakes the German position. Then an infernal scream sounds. Through flashes of fire, they see Tiny's huge silhouette with the light grey bowler on his head. He is standing by the end of the enemy trench with his machine gun resting on his hip. The tracer streak projectiles shoot out of the muzzle. Bewildered shapes flee in panic. - What a bunch of devils, the Russian lieutenant exclaims in admiration.

Monte Cassino, das heilige Kloster nordwestlich von Neapel. Die Deutschen haben riesige Verteidigungspositionen aufgebaut. Die Schlacht von Monte Cassino im Winter und Frühjahr 1944 wird zu einer unbeschreiblichen Hölle, sowohl für die Verteidiger als auch für die Angreifer. Auf der Seite der Alliierten stehen Flugzeuge, Artillerie, Panzer und Infanterie von vielen Nationen auf dem Spiel.

During the 19th century, the United States entered the ranks of the world's most advanced and dynamic economies. At the same time, the nation sustained an expansive and brutal system of human bondage. This was no mere coincidence. Slavery's Capitalism argues for slavery's centrality to the emergence of American capitalism in the decades between the Revolution and the Civil War.

Il y a au moins un bataillon de lance-flammes qui tourne sur lui-même comme une harde de sangliers fous furieux. De longues langues de flammes de feu jaillissent des tourelles et calcinent tout être vivant. Des milliers de prisonniers vêtus de rouge affluent depuis la prison GPU. C'est comme si les russes avaient deviné qu'ils allaient fuir et ils veulent les empêcher avec un mur de feu infranchissable, qui s'érige à perte de vue. Sven Hassel a été envoyé dans un bataillon de marche en tant que simple soldat de l'armée allemande.

I soldati del 27esimo Reggimento Panzer sono costretti a ripiegare. Devono compiere una terribile ritirata dopo la pioggia di bombe alleate sulle città tedesche. I cingoli dei carri armati solcano la steppa russa nella gelida morsa dell’inverno in una marcia della morte, che sembra non avere fine. Le strade si riempiono di migliaia di profughi. I caccia russi sono tritacarne che sfrecciano a bassa quota e trasformano con il loro sibilo il flusso dei rifugiati in un macabro grido rivolto al cielo.

"EL SOLDADO DESCONOCIDO DE LA SEGUNDA GUERRA MUNDIAL TIENE AHORA SU MONUMENTO" MORGENAVISEN, NORUEGA Escuchamos las orugas de los tanques que se aproximan. - Un T-34. Nos tienen que haber descubierto, susurra Hermanito. - ¡Quedaros hasta que esté aqui, entonces nos largamos! El repugnante traqueteo de las cadenas se acerca más y más. Conozco la angustia que se arrastra por la columna vertebral. Correr un segundo antes de tiempo es la muerte asegurada. Como conseguimos levantarnos no lo sé, las piernas funcionan automaticamente. El carro se menea encima del hoyo y aplasta todo lo que hay en él

Hailed as the most compelling biography of the German dictator yet written, Ian Kershaw's Hitler brings us closer than ever before to the heart of its subject's immense darkness. From his illegitimate birth in a small Austrian village to his fiery death in a bunker under the Reich chancellery in Berlin, Adolf Hitler left a murky trail, strewn with contradictory tales and overgrown with self-created myths. One truth prevails: the sheer scale of the evils that he unleashed on the world has made him a demonic figure without equal in the 20th century.

Gira la voce che verremo trasferiti a Varsavia. Heide, che è sempre ben informato, dice che là è un inferno. Si parla di ritirata tedesca sul fronte orientale. Sono atterrati migliaia di paracadutisti britannici e i boschi sputano soldati polacchi a frotte. Ma l'esercito clandestino polacco è condannato a morte. Non solo dal Reichsführer Himmler a Berlino, ma anche dal Maresciallo Stalin. I patrioti polacchi implorano invano l'aiuto dell'Esercito Rosso. Ma è già deciso che saranno i comunisti polacchi a prendere il potere.

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