“In these meadows, there were junkyards of armoured vehicles, where long rows of our panzers were lined up in the grass: rusting, abandoned and silent. The little Hetzers, the Stugs, the great Tigers, the great Panthers; all waiting in the sunset, empty, row upon row, leaking oil, with birds making nests in their turrets. It seems that when a war ends, there is too much metal left over, too much steel, and all the panzers lose their value.”
