The Sven Hassel world classics of war books have sold over 52,000,000 copies.

The Commissar No 14 and the last in the Sven Hassel series of novels. A great read in very good condition.

"Jesus, Jesus why is everybody always sneezin' and freezin' in this God-awful country!” sniffles Porta. “Anybody know a cure for it? I feel as if hair's growin' out of the sides of my head, an' the germs've built a barbed-wire entanglement in my throat!” “A Russian grenade up your backside, or perhaps a Kalashnikov burst straight into your napper'd clear that cold away in a second,” says Gregor, with a less than humorous laugh. “They're a certain cure at least,” the Old Man admits, scraping at his silver-lidded pipe with his combat-knife. “Colds are hell, and worst of all they're not enough to put you in sick-bay.” “You're right there,” puffs Tiny. “I saw the MO yesterday. Threw me out 'e did, an' threatened to 'ave me jailed for bleedin' sabotage o' the war effort.” “I got a fever sir,” I said. “52 degrees at least.” “Up your, arse, man, 'e yelled.” “Where else, sir, I answered, and then 'e went funny an' started shouting. Off I went then, 'fore anythin' irregular could start 'appenin'. I did manage to sneeze straight in 'is face, though. Give 'im somethin' to think about when 'is thermometer registers 52ºC…" The Commissar had the biggest secret of the Russian war. He had hidden 30 million dollars of Soviet gold behind the Russian lines – and Porta was determined to make sure his band of prison-soldiers got their share. For enemy gold they were prepared to take the company through the ice and blood of the Soviet lines, prepared to kill or be killed, prepared to fight like animals and cheat, lie, and steal like the criminals they had become. The lure of gold, the promises of The Commissar, were to carry them into the bloodiest battles of the Russian war.