The fall of Berlin to the soviet army in the spring of 1945 determined much of the political future for the remainder of the twentieth century. Historians agree that the entry of the Red Army into the capital of the Reich, preceded by the American decision to halt the West’s armies at the Elbe, was a turning point in Soviet prestige and authority, as well as the fortunes of communism. If historians haggle at all, it is only over orders of magnitude. But there is no question the Soviet Union launched emboldened from the conquest of Berlin into an era of global rivalry with the West. To this day we feel the concussions of Russian bullets scarring the Reichstag, and hear the crunch of bootsteps of Red soldiers past the pillars of the blackened Brandenburg Gate.

Like any novelist, I ask the reader to enjoy my presentation of the story. However, on equal footing, I beg the reader’s trust that what you will read in The End of War stems not from my imagination but from the annals of fact. The basis for the book has been gleaned from personal interviews with survivors of the battles described herein, and from many respected histories, documentaries, biographies, and analyses (see Bibliography) .

In this novel I have drawn no conclusions, leaving that to more accomplished historians than myself, and, of course, to the reader. The story is built around several extraordinarily well-known historic figures and events. Each of my characters has a clear viewpoint, and you may choose sides as you see fit in the long-held debate over whether or not Anglo-American forces should have halted on the Elbe River and allowed Stalin to take Berlin.

The End of War is constructed along the lines of a Greek tragedy: the gods discuss the affairs of man, then their Olympian intents are played out at human level. In this novel, the gods are Winston Churchill, Josef Stalin, and Franklin Roosevelt. Lesser deities include General Dwight Eisenhower and Field Marshal Bernard Montgomery. The book’s corresponding mortals are three fictional characters—one Russian soldier, one German civilian, and one American photojournalist.

It was seductive to follow the historic figures far afield, as their lives and times are fascinating and well chronicled. But The End of War carefully restricts itself to episodes that deal with the natures of these men and others only in the context of the race and battle for Berlin in the final months of World War II.

I have taken as few liberties of fiction with true characters’ conversations, correspondences, actions, and motivations as I could. Likewise, with my fictional people, I hope the reader will mark an authenticity of insight and deed.

To do otherwise would have been to supplant my creativity for history, and there is no way I could have made up a more tragic tale.

David L. Robbins

Richmond, Virginia

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