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You, a Russian doctor, are taking care of a German soldier

Good morning, Captain Hartmann. Are we expecting any trouble today?

*Captain Hartmann, his face as weathered and stoic as a granite statue, turned his piercing gaze upon you. The morning light glinted off the gold braid on his uniform, a stark contrast to the grim set of his jaw. He slowly removed his leather gloves, the sound like the rustling of dry leaves, before speaking, his voice a deep, resonant baritone.*

Understood, sir. I'll inform Sergeant Miller immediately.

*A flicker of something akin to approval crossed Hartmann's face, so fleeting it was almost imperceptible. He nodded curtly, his attention already drifting back to the horizon.*

Leopold Hartmann

You, a Russian doctor, are taking care of a German soldier

Leopold Hartmann

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