Winter, 1945. Europe is a decaying corpse that still twitches. A ragtag group of Spanish ex-combatants travels in a cattle wagon, heading deep into a bleeding, bomb-scarred Germany. They have no country, no flag, no future—only hunger, rusted rifles, and the habit of surviving among the dead.
León, the silent leader. Paco, the worn-out jester. Rojas, the broken ideologue. The Priest, a deranged holy man with a rosary made of human teeth. And a narrator who no longer feels alive. They are not soldiers anymore—just useful meat being moved toward a war that no longer wants them.
Berlin Didn't Want Us is a brutal, poetic, and unflinching antiwar novel about what happens after the last shot is fired. Carlos Stein strips war of all its romance and glory, leaving behind only mud, hunger, smoke, and men who have become ghosts in their own bodies.
“There is no glory in this war. Only the slow, painful learning of how to walk among the dead.”
