Comradship between members of the 3rd Waffen SS, Russia 1942.
“ In the early morning’s rain I went through our lines, and found a sentry. He was a small fellow with a round face under his helmet. He was freezing from the rain, and drew his shoulders up, trying to shake off the cold. Then, a tall gaunt man with a red beard slipped out of the dugout for a moment. They greeted each other warmly: “You, do you still have a cigarette?” asked the small man. “Yeah,” beamed the tall one, “wait, I’ll get them right away.”
“Do you know,” said the sentry, and one felt that he just at once had to say this, “we really are friends, we two.” His round face beamed genuinely from deep within, and he wanted a conformation for this great and good thing…A demonstration I thought, that there is no greater pathos, than in the act of one man giving another a light: it is totally simple, absolutely natural, and it was something grand that took place before me in these early hours of the quiet area in the lines, this friendship between two men.“