Nordland. Snow and ice. Wolves are retreating with grin.
They are pushed aside to a Baltic Sea shores, but the will to victory is in a wolves blood.
Pride of the wolves are looking to woods, they skin are shabby, but it's only one thought:
Stay against plundering horde despite the starvation, pain and weakness of flesh.
Memel - the way to freedom, town is sieged.
And people are running like rats.
Earth will be shattered, commissar will laugh,
Revenge will have its tribute.
Rumbling motors, thousands are roaring,
Vultures are waving over the Reich.
In a cold trench, with grenade in your hand
You are against armoured beasts.
In the morning you hear rumble
Hell's shining - artillery strike.
This is an X-hour, "T-34s"
Are on the march. Explosions and fear.
You're not afraid of Chaos
But commander is shot.
Platoon is sieged, tanks are surrounds,
But there is only one Panzerfaust.
Memel became a tombstone of bravehearts
Will of whom cannot be broken by steel.