My name is Martijn, born and raised in Belgium although my passport says I’m a Dutchman. Happily married, two kids (Erik and Nova), rational anarchistic libertarian, biker and world famous in my home village. I’m an analytic strategist (INTJ type) but I also love building stuff. And I’m an armchair historian, which is partly why I run this site.
There are tanks, of course. I like tanks. From a spectator’s point of view, obviously: I wouldn’t like to actually fight in one. But they’re great big impressive lumps of armoured steel going “Grrrrrrrr!” in the night; what more could a man want?
Secondly: the war. Yes, the Nazis were a bunch of genocidal maniacs. We all know that. It’s been written about quite a lot. However, a lot of Germans at the time were just going along with the flow, so to speak. Maybe torrent would be a better word… Anyway, there were nuances. There were ‘good’ Germans. There were ‘bad’ Germans. There were uninterested, weird, homesick, brilliant and/or stupid Germans. And after my contact with herr Carius, I feel like I ought to tell their stories.
What I’m after, then, is the stories about normal people. The ones who were fighting for their country, which had -in all fairness- been rather mistreated post-WW1. I want to know about the ones that were scared to death, hiding in a ditch. The ones that took the initiative and won the day. The ones that knew they were capable soldiers fighting for a terrible cause, but had no other options. I might just intentionally, out of spite, completely ignore Michael Wittmann. He’s had enough attention already.
And I sincerely believe he and Bobby Woll were secretly gay lovers.