TheForgottonSoldier

TheForgottonSoldierTheForgottonSoldierTheForgottenSoldierGuySajer

TranslatedfromtheFrenchbyLilyEmmet

ThisbookwasfirstpublishedinFranceunderthetitleLeSoldatOublieTheForgottenSoldier.Ó1967byEditionsRobertLaflont.TranslationcopyrightÓ1971byHarper

&Row, Publishers, Inc.All rights reserved.No part of this bookmay be used or reproduced in anymannerwhatsoeverwithoutwrittenpermissionexceptinthecaseofbriefquotationsembodiedincriticalarticlesandreviews.

PrintedintheUnitedStatesofAmerica.ForinformationaddressHarper&Row,Publishers,Inc.,49East33rdStreet,NewYork,N.Y.10016.PublishedsimultaneouslyinCanadabyFitzhenry&Whiteside,Limited,Toronto.

LibraryofCongressCardNumber:75-95981

Contents

OneRussiaAutumn,1942

1TowardStalingrad(Minsk-Kiev-BaptismofFire-Kharkov)15

2TheFront(SouthofVoronezh-TheDon)58

3TheMarchToTheRear(FromtheDontoKharkov-FirstSpring-FirstRetreat-TheDonetzBattle)77

Two“TheGrossDeutschland”Spring,1943-Summer,1943

4Leave(Berlin-Paula)117

5TrainingForAnEliteDivision(Aufmarsch!Marsch!)155

6BELGOROD169

THREETHERETREATAUTUMN,1943

7THENEWFRONT215

8THEBREAKTHROUGHATKONOTOP240

9CROSSINGTHEDNIEPER253

FOURTOTHEWESTWINTER,1943-SUMMER,1944

10“GOTTMITUNS”273

11CANCELLEDLEAVE(Partisans)293

12REDTANKS(TheSecondFrontontheDnieper)314

13THETHIRDRETREAT(Partisans-Christmas,1943-TheSiegeofBoporoeivska)331

14RETURNTOPOLAND349

15 RETURN TO THE UKRAINE (The Final Spring-The Death of Herr HauptmannWesreidau-Exodus362

FIVETHEENDAUTUMN,1944-SPRING,1945

16FROMPOLANDTOEASTPRUSSIA(TheVolkssturm-TheInvasion)393

17MEMEL413

18CALVARY(Pillau-Kahlberg-Danzig-Gotenhafen-OurLastBattle)437

19THEWEST(Hela-Denmark-Kiel-TheEnglish-Prisoner)451

EPILOGUEReturn461

Author’sPreface

GuySajer…whoareyou?My parents were country people, born some hundreds of miles apart-a distance filled with

difficulties, strange complexities, jumbled frontiers, and sentiments which were equivalent butuntranslatable.

Iwasproducedbythisalliance,straddlingthisdelicatecombination,withonlyonelifetodealwithitsmanifoldproblems.

I was a child, but that is without significance. The problems I had existed before I did, and Idiscoveredthem.

Thentherewasthewar,andImarrieditbecausetherewasnothingelsewhenIreachedtheageoffallinginlove.

Ihadtoshoulderabrutallyheavyburden.Suddenlythereweretwoflagsformetohonor,andtwolines of defense-the Siegfried and the Maginot-and powerful external enemies. I entered the service,dreamed,andhoped.IalsoknewcoldandfearinplacesneverseenbyLilliMarlene.

AdaycamewhenIshouldhavedied,andafterthatnothingseemedveryimportant.SoIhavestayedasIam,withoutregret,separatedfromthenormalhumancondition.

PROLOGUE

July18, 1942. I arrive at theChemnitz barracks, a hugeoval building, entirelywhite. I ammuchimpressed,withamixtureofadmirationandfear.

Atmyrequest,Iamassignedtothe26thsectionofthesquadroncommandedbyFlightCommandantRudel.Unfortunately,IfailtopasstheLuftwaffetests,butthosefewmomentsonboardtheJU-87swillstaywithmeasagloriousmemory.WelivewithanintensityIhaveneverbeforeexperienced.Eachdaybringssomethingnew.Ihaveabrand-newuniform,whichfitsmeperfectly,andapairofboots,notnewbutinfirst-classcondition.Iamveryproudofmyappearance.Thefoodisgood.I learnsomemilitarysongs,whichIwarblewithanatrociousFrenchaccent.Theothersoldierslaugh.Theyaredestinedtobemyfirstcomradesinthisplace.

Basictrainingintheinfantry,wheretheysendmenext,islessamusingthanthelifeofanaviator.ThecombatcourseisthemostseverephysicalchallengeIhaveeverexperienced.Iamexhausted,andseveraltimesfallasleepovermyfood.ButIfeelmarvelous,filledwithasenseofjoywhichIcan’tunderstandaftersomuchfearandapprehension.

Onthe15thofSeptember,weleaveChemnitz,andmarchtwenty-fivemilestoDresden,whereweboardatrainfortheeast.

We cross a large piece of Poland, stopping for several hours at Warsaw. Our detachment goessightseeinginthecity,includingthefamousghetto-orrather,what’sleftofit.Wereturntothestationinsmallgroups.Weareallsmiling.ThePolessmileback,especiallythegirls.Someoftheoldersoldiers,moredaringthanmyself,havearrangedtoreturninmostagreeablecompany.Onceagainwesetoff, toarrivefinallyatBialystok.

FromBialystokwemarchanothertenmilestoasmallhamlet.Theweatheriscoolbutunbelievablybeautiful.Autumnisalreadywellunderwayinthispretty,hillycountryside.Wetrampthroughaforestofenormous trees.Feldwebel* (*Sergeant.)Laus loudlyordersus to fall in,andwemarch inquick-stepinto a clearing,where a fairy-tale castle rises up in front of us.Weproceed along an avenue of treessinginginfourparts“Erika,WeLoveYou.”Wearemetbyagroupoftenorelevensoldiers,oneofwhomiswearingthegleamingepaulettesofanofficer.

Perfectlytimed,wedrawuptothisgroupaswesingthelastnotesofoursong.Thefeldwebelshoutsonce again, andwe freeze. Then another order, an impeccable quarter turn, and the air ringswith thesoundofthreehundredpairsofbootsclickingtogether.Afteranofficialmilitarywelcome,wemarchintothewalledcourtofthisformidablefortress.

Inthecourtyardrolliscalled.Thosewhohavealreadyansweredformanothergroupwhichgrowslargerasoursshrinks.Theyardisjammedwitheverykindofmilitaryvehicleandwithfivehundredfullyequipped soldierswho seem to bewaiting for departure.We are sent off to our quarters in groups ofthirty.Anoldmancallstous:“Relieftroops,thisway.”

We conclude from this that themenmassed by the trucks are leaving this regal habitation,whichwouldexplaintheirrathersullenfaces.

TwohourslaterIlearnthattheirdestinationissomewhereintheimmensityofRussia.Russiameansthewar-ofwhich,asyet,Iknownothing.

IhavejustputmybundledownonthewoodenbedIhavechosenformyselfwhenweareorderedto

returntothecourtyard.Itisnowabouttwoo’clockintheafternoon,andexceptforthebiscuitswewereabletopickupinWarsaw,wehaven’thadanythingtoeatsincetheryebread,whitecheese,andjamweweregiventheeveningbeforeaswewererollingtowardPoland.Thisnewordermustbeconnectedwithlunch,whichisalreadythreehourslate.

Butnotatall.Afeldwebelwearingasweaterproposeswithanironicairtosharehisswimwithus,asanaperitif.Hemakesus trotatabriskgymnasticpace forabout three-quartersofamile toasmallsandypoolfedbyatinystream.Thefeldwebel,whohaslosthissmilingface,ordersustostrip.Feelingsomewhatridiculous,wearesoonnaked.Thefeldwebelplungesintothewaterfirst,andwavesusafterhim.

Everyoneburstsoutlaughing,butinmycase,atleast,thelaughterissomewhatforced.Theweatheriscertainlybeautiful-forawalk,butnotforaswim.Thetemperatureoftheaircanbenomorethanforty,andthewater,whenIreluctantlydipmyfootintoit,isreallyverycold.Atthismoment,aviolentshove,accompanied by a mocking laugh, propels me into the water, where I swim vigorously to keep fromfainting.WhenIemerge,shivering,fromtheplunge,convincedthatbyeveningIshallbeintheinfirmarywithpneumonia,Ilookanxiouslyforthetowelwhichisindispensableaftersuchanexperience.Butthereisn’tone!Nobodyhasone!Mostofmycomradeshavenothingbutthelong-sleevedundershirtthatalsoservesasashirtintheWehrmacht,andtheirfatiguejackets,whichtheyputonnexttotheirbareskins.IamluckybecauseIhaveapullover,whichprotectsmychild’sskinfromtheroughcloth.

Onthedouble,wecatchupwithourleader,whoisalreadymorethanhalfwaybacktoourenormousresidence.Weareall franticallyhungry,andouravid faces lookdesperately for somesignofadininghall.Asitseemswearetobeabandonedtoourfate,ayoungAlsatianbuiltlikeagiantaccostsoneofthenoncoms,staringathimasifhewishedtodevourhim.

“Arewegoingtohaveanythingtoeat?”Athunderous“Achtung!”assaultsourears.Weallfreeze,includingourchampion.“Lunchhereisateleven,”thenoncomshouts.“Youarrivedthreehourslate.Inthrees, tomyright.

It’stimefortargetpractice.”Gnashingourteeth,wesetoffafterour“fostermother.”We take a narrow footpath through the woods. Our marching rows break up, and soon we are

walking in a single column. I notice a slight disturbance about tenmen in front ofme,which quicklydevelopsintoawildtumult.Ipressforward,asdothosebehindme,andtherearesoonaboutthirtyofuspiledupbesidea thicketwhere threemen incivilianclothes-threePoles-are standing, eachcarryingabasketofeggs.Everyoneisaskingthesamequestion:“Doyouhaveanymoney?Idon’t.”

Ican’tunderstandawordthePolesaresaying,butallthesameIgraspthattheyaretryingtosellussomeeggs.Itisourbadluckthat

wehaven’t beenpaidyet.Very fewofushave anymoneyof ourown.This is like the tortureofTantalus,asbynowwearedesperatelyhungry.Inasuddenrush,avidhandsplungeintothebaskets.Eggsarebrokenandblowsexchangedinsilence:bothsidesfearreprisals.Idon’tdotoobadly.Oneofmyfeetisbrutallytrampled,butnothingworsehappens,andattheendIhaveseveneggs.

Iruntorejoinmygroup,andgivetwoeggstoafatyoungAustrian,whostaresatmeinstupefaction.Iconsumethefiveeggsthatareleft,togetherwithagoodpartoftheirshells,inlessthanahundredyards.

We arrive at the shooting range.There are at least a thousandmen, and the firing is nonstop.Wemarch up to a group of armed men coming to meet us, and take over their guns. I draw twenty-fourcartridges,whichIwillfirewhenit’smyturn-notasmanyassomemen,butaboutaverage.

The eggs begin to work inmy stomach, and I don’t feel altogether easy. Night falls.We are allravenous.Weleavetheshootingrangewithourgunsonourshoulders.Othercompaniessetoffinotherdirections.Wemarchdownanarrowgraveledroadwhichdoesnotappeartobethesameonewetookwhenwecame.

Infact,weshallhavetotrampfourmilesinquick-step,singing,beforewegetbacktothatdamnedcastle. It seems that singingwhilemarching isanexcellent respiratoryexercise.As I amnotdead,mylungsmusthaveturnedintobellowsthatevening.Betweensongs,Iglanceatmybreathlesscompanions,and notice a look of anxiety on every face.As I plainly don’t understand, PeterDeleige,who is onediagonalstepaheadofme,pointstohiswrist,wherehiswatchgleamsinthedusk,andwhispers:“Thetime.”

GoodLord!Icatchon.Itisalmostnight,wellpastfiveo’clock,andwe’vemissedsupper.Thewholesectionseemstoreact,andourpaceaccelerates.Perhapsthey’vesavedsomethingforus.

Wecling to this hope, dominating the exhaustionwhich threatens tooverwhelmus.Weoutdistance thefeldwebelbyoneandthenbytwopaces.Hestaresatusinastonishment,beginstoshout,andthencollectshimself:“Soyouthinkyoucanleavemebehind,doyou?Well,let’sgothen.”

Onorders,webreakinto“DieWolkenziehn”fortheseventhtime,and,withoutslackeningourpace,cross themassive stone bridgewhich straddles themoat.We peer into the shadowy courtyard, faintlyilluminatedbyafewdimbulbs.Acolumnofsoldierscarryingmesstinsanddrinkingcansisqueuinginfrontofasidecarwhichcarriesthreeenormouscaldrons.

Atthesergeant’sorderwehalt,andwaitforhisnextordertobreakranksandfetchourmesstins.But,alas,thatmomenthasnotyetcome.Thissadistobligesustoputourgunsbackinthegunrack,intheirpropernumericalorder,whichtakesanothertenminutes.Wearefrantic.Then,abruptly:“Goandseeifthere’sanythingleft,andinorder!”

Weholdourselves in as far as thearmorydoor.But,onceoutside,nothingcan stopus.Wesurgewildly towardourquarters.Ourhobnailedboots throwoff sparks as they clatter against the courtyardpavement.We rushup themonumental stonestaircase likeeightymadmen,drivingaheadofus the fewsoldierswho are trying to come back down. In the dormitories themelee increases, as no one is yetentirelysurewhichroomandbedheoccupies.Weruninandoutoftheroomsasifpossessedbydemons,and it seems inevitable that someone is trying togetout exactly as anotherman is trying toget in.Wecrash,swear,exchangeblows.Imyselfreceiveabashonthehelmet.

Someluckydevilswhohavehadthegoodlucktofindtheirmesstinsrightawayrunbackdownthestairsatatriplegallop.Theswine!They’lleateverythingthat’sleft!Finally,Ifindmypack,butasIamunhookingmymess tin someone jumpsontomybedwithhis dirtyboots, andknocks everything to thefloor.Mymesstinrollsunderthenextbed,andwhenIdivetoretrieveit,myhandistrampled.

Ireturntothecourtyard,andthere,underthebenevolentgazeofournoncom,Itakemyplaceinline,relievedtoseethatthereisstillonecaldronwithsomethinginit.

In thismomentary respite, I inspectmy companions. Every face wears the same burning look ofexhaustion.Thethinones,likeme,havehugecirclesundertheireyes,andtheplumperonesareashen.

IcatchsightofBrunoLensen.Hehasalreadybeenserved,andiswolfingdownhisfoodashewalksawaywithcareful little steps.Fahrstein,Olensheim,Lindberg,Hals: theyarealldoing the same thing.Whenmyturncomes,Iopenmymesstin.Ihaven’thadachancetowashitsincemylastmeal,andtracesoffoodstillclingtoitsinterior.

Thecookemptieshisladleintomytin,andputsalargehelpingofyogurtonmyplate.Isitdownalittleway off, on one of the bencheswhich stand against thewall of the kitchen block.Our gallopingreturnat leasthad the advantageofmakingmeget ridof the eggs Ihaddevoured soprecipitately thatafternoon.Iboltmymealwithravenoushunger.Thefoodisn’tatallbad.Igetupandwalkovertothelight of an unshadedwindow, and peer into the tin. It containswhat looks like amixture of semolina,prunes,andchunksofmeat.Itwillallbegoneinafewminutes.

Aswehaven’tbeengivenanythingtodrink,Igoovertothehorsetroughslikeeverybodyelse,andswallow down three or four cups of icywater.And I take the opportunity to rinsemy plate. Eveningassembly and roll call takesplace in a largehallwhere a corporal addressesuson the subject of the

GermanReich.Itiseighto’clock.Lights-outissoundedonasmallbugle.Wegobacktoourroomsandfallintoadeadsleep.

IhavejustspentmyfirstdayinPoland.ItisSeptember18,1942.Weareoutofbedatfiveo’clockthenextmorning,whichishowitwillbeforthenexttwoweeks.

Weshallalsobeundergoingintensivetraining,andshallcrossthatdamnedpondeveryday,nolongerasbathersbutwithfullcombatequipment.

Exhausted,soakedtotheskin,weflingourselvesontoourmattresseseveryevening,overwhelmedbyacrushingsleep,withouteventheenergytowritetoourfamilies.

As a marksman I ammaking rapid progress. I must have fired over five hundred cartridges, onmaneuversandattheshootingrange,duringthefortnight,andhurledatleastfiftypracticegrenades.

Thedaysaregray.Fromtimetotimeitrains,andIwonderiftherainisaforetasteofwinter.ButitisonlythefifthofOctober.Thismorningitisclear,withalightfrost.Therestofthedaywillprobablybebeautiful.Wesalutetheflagatdawn,andtakeoffforourdailyfootworkwithourgunsslung.

We cross themoat on the stone bridge,which resoundswith the hammering of our sixty pairs ofboots.Lausdoesn’torderustosing,andforhalfanhourIhearnothingbutthesoundofourtrampingfeet-asoundwhichpleasesme.Ifeelnodesiretotalk,andtakedeeplungfulsofcoolforestair.Amarveloussenseoflifeflowsthroughmyveins,andImakenoefforttounderstandwhyweareallsosplendidlywellaftersuchintensedailyexertions.Werunintoacompanyquarteredaboutsixmilesfromusinavillagewithanamesomething likeCremenstovsk, and saluteaswepass,wewithheads left, theywithheadsright.Withoutanydispersalorchangeofpositionintheranksweshifttothedouble,toordinarymarchingpace,tothedoubleagain.Whenwegetbacktothecastleweseeacrowdofnewfaces.

All thesergeant-instructorshave jumpedon thesegreenhorns.Weremainstandingby theentrance.Afteranhour,asnoonehasdoneanythingaboutus,westackourweapons,andsquatonthecourtyardpavement.

ItalktoaLorrainer,halfinFrench,halfinGerman,andthemorninggoesby.Thelunchbellrings,andweputawayourgunsbeforegoingintothedininghall.

Itisnowafternoon.Stillnoduties,nomaneuvers.Wecanhardlybelieveit.Thereisnoquestionofgoingdowntothecourtyard;theywouldonlysendusoffonfatigue.Withoneaccord,weslipuptothethirdfloor,wheretherearemoredormitories.Weseealadderwhichtakesusuptotheattic,andthentotheroof.Thesunisbeatingdownontothemassiveslates.Westretchoutfulllength,andbraceourheelsagainsttheguttersothatwewon’trollintothecourtyard.

Thedayismagnificent.Ontheroofitisalmostpainfullyhot,andbeforelongweareallstrippedtothewaist,asifonabeach.However,afterawhiletheheatbecomesdisagreeable,andlikemanyothersIabandonmyroost.Uptothatmomentthough,itisquiteamusingtolookdownatthefrenziedmaneuversofthegreenhornsunderatorrentofabuse.

IfindmyselfbackinthecourtyardinthecompanyofthatdamnedLorrainer,whonevertalksaboutanythingbuthismedicalstudies.AsIamsupposedtoworkasamechanicwithmyfather,Ifindallhischatterquiteboring.What’s thepointof thinkingaboutacivilian futurewhenyou’ve justgone into thearmy?

Therearestillnoordersforus.Iwalkaboutquitefreely,andforthefirsttimeobservethedetailsofthismassiveedifice.Everythingaboutitisonacolossalscale.Thesmalleststaircaseisatleasteighteenfeetwide,andthewholemassissoimposingthatonealmostforgetsitssinistercharacter.

Beyondtheentryandparalleltoitrisethebattlements.Anotherblockcomposedoffourtowerslikethetowersoftheporchcompletesthegroupofbuildings.Theentiremassbothpleasesandimpressesme,andIfeelinthisWagneriandecorasenseofalmostinvinciblepower.Thehorizontouchesthevastdark-greenforestonallsides.

Theprincipalcharacteristicofthedayswhichfollowisakindofrobustpleasure.Ilearntodrive,

firstabigmotorcycle;thenaVW,andthenasteiner.*(Militaryautomobile,similartoajeep)Igrowsoconfident thatdriving thesemachines seems likechild’splay,and Iamable tomanage themunderanycircumstances.Therearefifteenofuspassingaroundordersamongourselveswithoutsubmittingtoanyauthority,andweenjoyourselves,liketheboysweare.

October 10. The weather is still beautiful, but this morning the temperature is only twenty-fivedegrees.For thewhole daywepractice handling a small tank, driving it up somepretty steep slopes.Therearefifteenofusaboardavehicleintendedforeight,whichisquiteuncomfortable.Wemanagetostayinsideonlybyperformingsomeextraordinaryacrobaticcontortions.Welaughallday,andbyeveningany one of us can handle themachine.We are dead tired and ache as ifwe’d all been given a goodthrashing.

Thenextday,asweflingourselvesheadlong intoexercise,withoutcalculating thecostofenergy,andtocounteractthecold,Lauscallsout:“Sajer!”

Istepforward.“LieutenantStarfeneedsaPanzerdriver,andasyouparticularlydistinguishedyourselfyesterday…

goandgetready.”I salute, and takemyself off at a gallop. It’s not possible… I, the best driver in the platoon! I

literallyleapwithjoy,and,inlessthannotime,amdressedandbackinthecourtyard.Ibegintoruntothecommandquarters,but thatprovesunnecessary,asLieutenantStarfe isalreadywaiting forme.He isathin,angularman,butdoesnotlookdisagreeable.ItseemsthathewasgravelywoundedinBelgiumandhasstayedinthearmyasaninstructor.Isnaptoattention.

“DoyouknowthewaytoCremenstovsk?”heasks.“Jawohl,HerrLeutnant.”Totellthetruth,Iamonlyguessingthatthisistheroadonwhichwesometimesrunintocompanies

whoseemtobecomingfromthatvillage.ButIfeeltoopleasedtohesitate.ForonceIambeingaskedforsomethingmorethanasimpleexercise.

“Good,”heanswers,smiling.“Let’sgo,then.”Starfepointstooneofthetankswewereusingyesterday.Somethingthatlookslikeafour-wheeled

trailerisattachedtoit.Infact,it’san88,coveredwithacamouflagenet.Isettleintothedriver’sseatandturnontheengine:thegaugeshowsonlytwoandahalfgallons,whichisn’tenough,andIaskpermissiontofillthetank.Permissionisgranted,andIamcongratulatedforthiselementaryobservation.Westartafewminuteslater.Myvehicleproceedssomewhatnervouslypasttheporchandoverthebridge.IcannotbringmyselftolookatStarfe,whomustsurelyhavenoticedmydeplorablebeginner’stechnique.About6ooyardsfromthecastleIturnofftowardwhatIthinkmustbetheroadtoCremenstovsk.ForabouttenminutesIrollalongatamoderatespeed,inastateofconsiderableanxietyaboutmyitinerary.WepasstwoPolishcarts loadedwithhay.They takeone lookatmyPanzer,andmake for thesideof the road.Starfelooksatmeandsmilesattheirprecipitateflight.

“They thinkyoudid that onpurpose.They’ll never believe it’s becauseyouhaven’tmastered themachine.”

Idon’tknowwhetherI’msupposedtolaughatthisobservation,ortakeitasawarning.Ifeelmoreand more nervous, and jolt the poor lieutenant as if he were riding a camel. Finally we arrive at adecrepitgroupofbuildings.Ilookdesperatelyforasignpost,butallIcanseeisthegangoftow-headedboyswhohaverushedouttoseeusgoby,attheriskoffallingbeneathourtreads.

SuddenlyIcatchsightofaboutahundredGermanvehiclesparkedintheroad,andStarfepointstoabuildingwithaflagflyinginfrontof it.Iheaveasighofrelief.WewereontheroadtoCremenstovskafterall.

“You’llhaveatleastanhourtowait,”Starfetellsme.“Gotothecanteenandseeiftheycangiveyousomethinghot.”

As he speaks, he pats me on the shoulder. I feel very much moved by the friendliness of this

lieutenant towhomIhave justgivensucha frightful journey. Iwouldneverhaveguessed that thismanwhosefaceissomewhatfrighteningwouldbecapableofaquasi-paternalgesture.

Iwalk over to a buildingwhich looks like a town hall.A notice board carries awhite-on-blackinscription: SOLDATENSCHENKE 27e KOMPANIE. Soldiers are continuously going in and out. Asthereisnosentry,Iwalkin,andthrougharoomwherethreesoldiersarebusyunpackingcratesoffood.Beyondthisroomisanother,withacounterattheback,besidewhichagroupofsoldiersarestandingandtalking.

“CouldIhavesomethinghot?I’vejustdrivenanofficeroverhere,butIdon’tbelongtothe27th.”“So,”mutters thesoldierbehindthebar.“Anotheroneof thesedamnedAlsatianspretendingtobe

German.”It’splainthatIspeakhideouslybadly.“I’mnotAlsatian,buthalfGerman,throughmymother.”Theydon’tpressme.Theonebehindthebargoesoffintothekitchen.IstaywhereIam,plantedin

themiddleoftheroom,wrappedinmyheavygreenovercoat.Fiveminuteslater,thesoldierisbackwithasteamingcanteenhalffilledwithgoat’smilk.Hepoursafulltumblerofalcoholintothis,andhandsittomewithoutaword.

Itisburninghot,butIdrinkitdownallthesame.Everyeyeisfixedonme.Ihaveneverlikedthetasteofalcohol,butIamdeterminedtofinishthisliteratanyprice,sothatIwon’tlooklikeagreengirl.

I leavethisbunchofloutswithoutsaluting,andfindmyselfoutinthecoldonceagain.ThistimeIfeel certain that the Polishwinter has arrived. The sky is overcast, and the thermometer has fallen totwentydegrees.

Idon’treallyknowwheretogo.Thesquareisalmostempty.Inthesurroundinghouses,Polesmustbewarmingthemselvesinfrontoftheirfires.Iwalkovertotheparkinglot,wheresomesoldiersarebusywiththetrucks.Iventureafewwords,buttheyreplywithoutenthusiasm.Imustbetooyoungforthem:thesecharactersarealready in their thirties. I continuemyaimlesswandering, andcatch sightof threebeardedmenwearinglongovercoatsofastrangebrowncolor,whoarecuttingatreetrunkintolengthswithalargeall-purposesaw.Idon’trecognizetheiruniforms.

Iwalkuptothem,smile,andaskthemifeverything’sallright.Theironlyresponseistostopsawingandstraightenup,andIguessthattheyaresmilingbehindtheir

heavybeards.Oneofthemisatall,strappingfellow;theothertwoareshortandstocky.Iasktwoorthreequestions, but get no reply.These charactersmust be laughing atme!Then I hear footsteps comingupbehindme,andavoicesays:“Letthemalone.Youknowthattalkingtothemisforbidden,excepttogivethemorders.”

“Thosewildmendidn’tanswermeanyway.Iwasjustwonderingwhatthehellthey’redoingintheWehrmacht.”

“Teufel!” says the fellowwho’s come to dressmedown. “I can see now that you’ve never beenunderfire.ThosefellowsareRussianprisoners.Andifyoueverdogettothefrontandyouseeoneofthembeforeheseesyou,firewithouthesitation,oryou’llneverseeanother.”Iamastounded,andlookagainattheRussians,whohaveresumedtheirsawing.Sothoseareourenemies,whoshootatGermansoldiers,soldierswearinguniformslikemine.Whydidtheysmileatmethen?

For thenext twoweeks, life in the castlewithmycompanionsof the19thCompany continues asusual,andIobliteratethememoryofthe27th,whichseemedtobecomposedentirelyofsullen,gloomycharacters.Tobefair,however,Imustadmitthatthemeninthe27thhavebeeninservicesince1940.

Winterhasarrived,withitssnowandrain,transformingtheearthintostickyglue.Whenwecomeinatduskweare coveredwithmudandexhausted,but still filledwith the senseof joy that comes fromyouthandhealth.Thesesmallfatiguesarenothingcomparedtowhatawaitsus.Everyeveningwewarmourselvesinourcomfortablebeds,andjokeuntilsleepinterruptsus.

October28.Theweather,whichisnotverycold,isnonethelessfrightful.Graycloudsandsquallsofwindandrainfilltheskyfortwenty-fourhoursaday.Ournoncomsaretiredofgettingsoakedtotheskin,and have given up taking us to outdoor exercises.We spendmost of the time perfecting our skills asdriversandmechanics. Idon’tyetknowanythingmoredisagreeable than rummaging throughanengineunderadrivingrain.

Thethermometerremainsmoreorlessconstantatfreezing.October30:rainingandcold.After saluting the colors,we are ordered to the supply store,whereweproceedwithout thinking

aboutexplanations.Atleastitwillbewarminthere.Inthestore,whichhasbeensetupinalargeshed,thefirsttwosectionsofourcompanyhavejustbeenserved,andarecomingoutwiththeirarmsloaded.Whenit’smyturn,Iamgivenfourboxesofsardines,stampedinFrance,twovegetablesausageswrappedincellophane,apackageofbiscuitsenrichedwithvitamins,twoslabsofSwisschocolate,somesmokedlard, and a half pound of lump sugar. Four steps further on, another attendant piles onto my alreadyencumberedarmsawaterproofgroundsheet,apairofsocks,andapairofwoolengloves.Atthedooronemoreitemisadded:aclothpacketinscribedFIELDKIT:FIRSTAID.Inthefallingrain,Irejoinmygroup,whichisclusteredaroundanofficercrouchedonthebackofatruck.Heiswellprotectedinhislongcoatofgray-green leather, and seems tobewaiting for the entire company to assemble.Whenhejudges that everyone has arrived, he begins to speak. He talks so quickly that I have a hard timeunderstandingwhathesays.

“Youwillbeleavingthisbillettoconvoyseveralmilitarytrainstoamoreadvancedpost.Youhavejustbeenissuedwithsuppliesforeightdays,whichyouwillnowinclude inyourequipment.Youwillassembleintwentyminutes.Nowgetready.”

Quickly, silent with anxiety, we return to our quarters and gather together our possessions. As Ifastenmypacktomyback,myneighborinthenextbedasks:“Howlongwillwebegone?”

“Don’tknow.”“Ijustwrotetomyparentsandaskedthemtosendmesomebooks.”“TheP.O.willforwardyourpackage.”At that moment Hals, my enormous friend, hits me across the back. “At last we’ll see some

Russians,”heshouts,grinningsardonically.Isensethatheistryingtobuilduphisnerve.Inrealityeveryonefeelsconsiderableemotion.Despite

ourperfectinnocence,theideaofwarterrifiesus.Oncemorewe findourselves standing in the courtyard in that damned rain.We are eachgiven a

registeredMauserandtwenty-fivecartridges.Idon’tknowifit’sareactiontoreceivingthesearms,butInoticethateveryoneisturningpale.Certainlywecanallbeexcusedforthis:nooneinthecompanyismorethaneighteen.Imyselfwon’tbeseventeenforanothertwoandahalfmonths.Thelieutenantnoticesourconfusion,and toraiseourspirits readsus the latestWehrmachtcommuniqué.VonPaulus ison theVolga, von Richthofen is near Moscow, and the Anglo-Americans have suffered great losses in theirattemptstobombthecitiesandtownsoftheReich.Ourofficerseemsreassuredbyouransweringcriesof“SiegHeil.”Theentire19thCompanystandsatattentioninfrontoftheflag.

Laus, our feldwebel, is there, also helmeted and fully equipped. At his side he carries a longautomatic inablack leathersheath,whichgleams in the rain.Weareall silent.Theorder tomoveoutsoundsliketheabruptblastofanexpresstrain’swhistle:“Achtung!Rechtsum.Raus!”

Inthrees,weleavetheplacewhichwashomeduringourfirstarmyexperiences.Wecrossthestonebridgeforthelasttime,andsetoffdowntheroadwhichbroughtushereamonthandahalfago.

IlookbackseveraltimesattheimposinggraymassoftheancientPolishcastlewhichIshallneverseeagain,andwouldhavesuccumbedtomelancholyifthepresenceofmycomradeshadnotraisedmyspirits.WearriveatBialystok,aseaofgreenuniforms,andmarchtothestation.

TheForgottonSoldier

PartOneRussiaAutumn,1943

TOWARDSTALINGRADMinsk-Kiev-BaptismofFire-Kharkov

Wewerestandingbesidealongrailwayconvoy.Wehadbeenorderedtostackourgunsonthetracksand take off our packs. The time was somewhere between twelve noon and one o’clock. Laus wasmunching on something he had taken from his pack.His face, although scarcely attractive, had grownfamiliartous,evenreassuring.Asthoughhisactionweresomekindofsignal,wealltookoutourfood,someimmediatelydevouringtheequivalentoftwomeals.Lausnoticedthis,butcontentedhimselfwithabriefcomment:“Allright,goahead,gobbleitalldown.Buttherewon’tbeanotherdistributionbeforetheweekisover.”

Although we all felt as if we’d eaten only half of what we really needed to assuage our giantappetites,wealsofeltalittlebitwarmer.Bythistimewehadbeenwaitinginthecoldformorethantwohours,anditwasbeginningtogetthebetterofus.Wetrampedupanddown,jokingandstampingourfeet.Some, who had paper, wrote letters, but my fingers were too numb, and I contented myself withobservation.Trains loadedwithwarmaterielwerecontinuouslypassing through thestation,whichhadturnedintoavastbottleneck,withcarsbackedupforatleastsixhundredyards.Everythingseemedverybadlyorganized,withconvoysmovingout,onlytobeshuttledontoothersectionsoftrack,whereothercompaniesbrought fromGodknowswherewerebeingkeptwaitingaswewere.Peoplewerealwaysmoving out of theway to let a train go by, only to see it a fewminutes later headed in the oppositedirection.Whatamess!

Thetrainwewereleaningagainstseemedtohavebeenimmobilizedforeternity.Perhapsitwouldhavebeenbitterifithadneverleft.

Togivemyselfsomeexercise,Ihoistedmyselfupashighastheairholesinthecarriages.Insteadofcattle,thetrainwasfilledwithmunitions.

Bythistimewehadbeeninthestationforfourhours,andfeltfrozen.Itgrewcolderasitgrewdark,and tokill timeweplungedoncemore intoourprovisions.Although itwasalreadyquitedark, trafficcontinued,dimlylit.Lauswasbeginningtolookasthoughhehadhadenough.Withhiscappulleddownoverhisears,andhiscollarturnedup,hewastrampingupanddownforwarmth;hemusthavecoveredatleast tenmiles.WehadformedasmallgroupoffriendsfromChemnitz,whichwasn’t tobreakupuntilmuchlater:Lensen,Olensheim,andHals,threeGermanswhospokeFrenchasbadlyasIspokeGerman;Morvan, an Alsatian; Uterbeick, an Austrian, as dark and curly as an Italian dancer, who eventuallydissociated himself fromour group; andme, aFranco-German.Among the six of us,weweremakingprogress inboth languages,except for thatdamnedUterbeick,whoneverstoppedhummingItalian lovesongsunderhisbreath.Theseplaintivemelodiessoundedoutofplaceand totally foreign toearsmoreaccustomed to Wagner than to Italian composers, especially those lamentations of an abandonedNeapolitanswain.

Halshadawatchwitha luminousdialwhich informedus that itwasalreadyeight-thirty.We felt

surethatourdeparturewasimminent,thattheywerenotgoingtoleaveusonthestationplatformforthenight.Butthatishowitturnedout.Afteranotherhour,severalmenunpackedsleepingrollsandstretchedoutasbesttheycould-ifpossibleonsomeraisedsurface,foralittleprotectionfromthedamp.Someevenhadthetemeritytosleepunderthetrain,hopingthatitwouldn’tstartrolling.

Oursergeanthadsettledonapileofrailwaybaggageandlitacigarette.Helookedwornout.Wesimplycouldn’taccepttheideaofanightoutofdoors.Itseemedimpossiblethatwewouldbeleftwherewewere.Weknewthatthedeparturewhistlewouldblowsoon,andthatalltheidiotswhohadn’thadthepatiencetowaitwouldhaveafinetimepackinguptheirbedrollsinahurry.Asitturnedout,wewouldhavedonebetter toimitatethemandgaintwohours’sleep; twohourslaterwewerestillsittingonthecoldstonesoftheroadbed.Itwasgrowingsteadilycolder,andafinerainhadbeguntofall.Oursergeantwasbusybuildinghimselfashelterwiththerailwaybaggage-notatallabadidea.Whenhecoveredthisoverwithhiswaterproofsheet,hewascompletelysheltered-theoldfox.

We now felt compelled to find ourselves some shelter too.We couldn’t move too far from ourweapons,butwe left themnonetheless,with theirbarrels in theair,open to therain,expectinga royaldressingdownlateron.Thebestplaces,ofcourse,weretakenbythistime,andtheonlythingwecouldthinkofwastoshelterbeneaththerailwaycars.Ithadcertainlyoccurredtoustotrytogetinside,butthedoorswereheldshutwithwirecables.

Fullofcomplaints,wecrawledintoourdisquietingandaltogetherrelativeshelter.Therainblewinsidewaysafterus,andwewerefurious.Lateronthisangermademelaugh….

Asbestwecould,wearrangedsomedegreeofshelterfromtherain.Thiswasmyfirstnightintheopenair,andneedlesstosayInevershutmyeyesformorethanfifteenminutesatatime.Icanrememberlongperiodsofstaringatthehugeaxlethatservedastheroofofmybed.Throughmyexhaustionitoftenseemedtobeshifting,asifthetrainwereabouttomove;Iwouldwakewithastarttofindthatnothinghadchanged,fallbackagainintoahalfsleep,onlytobestartledbackintowakefulnessonceagain.Atthefirstglimmerofdaylightweleft thischancerestingplace,stiffandnumb, lookinglikeagangofdisinterredcorpses.

Wefellinateighto’clock,andmarchedtotheembarkationplatform.Halsremarkedseveraltimesthatwecouldperfectlywellhavespentanothernightatthecastle.Noneofusasyethadanyideaofthedispiritingnecessitiesofmilitarylifeinwartime.Thishadbeenourfirstnightoutofdoors,butweweredestinedtospendmanyotherswhichwerefarworse.

Forthemoment,weweretrainguards.Ourcompanyhadbeendividedamongthreelongconvoysofmilitarymateriel,twoorthreetoacar.IfoundmyselfwithHalsandLensenonaflatcarwhichcarriedairplane wings marked with a black cross, and other parts covered by canvas. These were suppliesdestined for the Luftwaffe; according to the inscriptions we had been able to read, they came fromRatisbonne,andweregoingtoMinsk.

Minsk:Russia.Ourmouthssuddenlywentdry.Wewere pursued by bad luck.Wewere stuck on an open car; the rain had turned to snow; the

unbearablecoldwasintensifiedbythemotionofthetrain.AfterdueconsiderationweduckedunderthetarpaulinwhichcoveredalargeDO-17engine.Thismaneuvercutthewind,andbyclingingtogetherwemanagedtoachieveasemblanceofwarmth.

Westayedthereagoodhour,roaringwithlaughterovernothing.Thetrainwasrollingalongandwehadn’ttheslightestideawhatwashappeningoutdoors.Fromtimetotimewecouldheartrainsgoingintheotherdirection.

Allofasudden,Lensenthoughtheheardavoiceshoutingabovethenoiseofthewheels.Carefullyhestuckhisheadoutofourshelter.“It’sLaus,”hesaidcalmly,turningbacktousandpullingthecanvasdownagain.

Tensecondslater,thecanvaswasrippedbacktorevealthesergeantfumingwithrageatthesightof

ourthreehappyfaces.Laus,wearingahelmetandgloves,lookedverymuchonthejob.Hisfaceandcoatwerepowderedwithsnow,liketherestofthetrain,whoselongprofilejoggledandswayedbehindhim.Theairrangwithaloud“Achtung!”butthespasmodicmotionofthetrainpreventedtheorderfrombeingexecutedwithitscustomarystiffprecision.

The scene which followed was worthy of burlesque. I can still see that great teddy bear Hals,swayingfromrighttoleftashetriedtomaintainarigidposture.Asforme,mylongcoathadcaughtononeofthenumeroussectionsofairplaneengine,whichmadeitimpossibleformetostraightenup.Lauswasnobetterthanwewereatmaintainingadignifiedattitude.Finally,besidehimselfwithexasperation,hebracedhimselfwithonekneeagainstthefloor.Wefollowedhisexample,andfromacertaindistancewemighthavebeentakenforaquartetofconspiratorswhisperingsecrets.Infact,Iandmycompanionswerereceivingamagisterialdressing-down.

“Whatthehelldoyouthinkyou’redoingunderthere?”Lausshouted.“WhereinGod’snamedoyouthinkyouare,andwhatdoyouthinkyou’resupposedtobedoingonthistrain?”

Hals,whohadaspontaneousnature,interruptedoursuperior.Hesaidthatitwasimpossibletostayoutsidethecanvasbecausethecoldwassobad,andthatanywaytherewasnothingtolookat.

Itwouldseemthatbymakingtheseobservations,Halswasdemonstratingatotallackofobjectivity.Like an enragedgorilla the sergeant seizedour comradeby the collar and shookhimviolently,with atorrentofabuse.

“I’llmakemyreport!AtthefirststopI’llhaveyousenttoadisciplinarybattalion.Thisisnothinglessthanabandoningyourpost.Youcouldgetthefiringsquad….Whatifacarhadblownupbehindyou?Youcouldn’thavewarnedanyonefromthatholeofyours!”

“Why?”Lensenasked.“Isacargoingtoblowup?”“Shutup,idiot!Thereareterroristsallalongtheline,readytoriskanything.Whentheydon’tblow

the trains rightup they throwexplosivesor incendiaries.Youarehereprecisely toprevent that sortofthing.Takeyourhelmetsandcometothefrontofthecar,orI’llthrowthewholelotofyouoverboard!”

Wedidn’twaitforhimtorepeathimself,anddespitethecoldwhichbitintoourfaces,wetookupthepositionsheappointed.Lauscontinuedforwardthroughtheloadedcars,hangingonashemovedfromonetothenext.Hewasn’treallyabully,butamanwithaclearideaofajobtobedone.Ineversawhimtry tomake things easier for himself,which is probablywhy I felt hemust have a sympathetic streak,although I hadn’t yet spoken to him.Noneof the other feldwebels in the companywere so strict; theyclaimedtobesavingthemselvesforthebigjob;butwhenthemomentcameLausdidasmuchasthey,ifnotmore.Hewastheoldestofthesergeants;perhapshehadalreadybeenatthefront.Infact,hewaslikeeverysergeant-majorintheworld:afraidofresponsibility,andatthesametimegivingusahardtime.

Duringhistiradehehadmadeusrealize,rightlyenough,thatifwecouldn’tstandalittlecoldandavague,possibledanger,wewouldneversurviveatthefront.Itcertainlywouldbeidiotictogetkilledbysomeanarchistbeforewe’dseenanything.

Wewererolling througha forestofsquat,snow-coveredpines. Ihadplentyof time toponder thecase of conscience the feldwebel had put to me. The north of Poland seemed to be very sparselypopulated.Wehadpassedonlyafewsmalltowns.Suddenly,wellaheadofthetrain,Icaughtsightofafigurerunningalongbeside the tracks. Ididn’t thinkIcouldbe theonlypersonwho’dnoticedhim,butapparentlynooneinanyofthecarsheadwasdoinganythingabouthim.

Rapidly I maneuvered my Mauser into a good position, and took aim at what could only be aterrorist.

Ourtrainwasmovingveryslowly:aperfecttargetforabomb.InafewminutesIwaslevelwiththeman.Icouldn’tseeanythingunusualabouthim.HewasprobablyaPolishwoodcutterwhohadcomeupoutofcuriosity.I feltdisconcerted.Ihadbeenall readytofire,andnownothingseemedto justify it. Iaimeddeliberatelyoverhisheadandpulledthetrigger.

Thereportshooktheair,andthebuttofmyguncrashedviolentlyintomyshoulder.Thepoorfellowtookoffasfastashecould,obviouslyfearingtheworst,andIfeltcertainthatmyill-consideredactionhadmadeanotherenemyfortheReich.

Thetrainmaintaineditsspeed,andafewminuteslaterLausappeared,continuinghisendlesspatroldespitethecold.Hegavemeacuriouslook.

Wehaddecidedtotakedutyinshifts.Whiletwoofuswatched,thethirdwouldtrytowarmupunderthecanvas.Wehadnowbeenonthetrainforsomethinglikeeighthours,andfeltapprehensiveaboutthenight, which would undoubtedly be spent in these conditions. Twentyminutes ago I had taken Hals’splace,andfortwentyminuteshadbeenunabletocontrolmyviolentshivering.Nightwasdrawingclose;perhapsMinskwastoo.Thetrainwasmovingalongtheonlytrack.Tothenorthandtothesouthwewereenclosed by dark forest. For the last quarter of an hour the train had been accelerating,whichwouldundoubtedlyresult inourdeathsbyfreezing.Wehadalsoconsumeda largepartofour rations tokeepwarm.

Suddenly the train slowed down. The brake blocks grated against the wheels, and the couplingsshookviolently.Weweresoonmovingat thespeedofabicycle.Isawthefrontof the train turnto theright:weweredivertingontoasecondarytrack.

Thetrainmovedforwardforanotherfiveminutes,andthenstopped.Twoofficershadjumpeddownfromoneof thefrontcarsandwerewalkingback.Lausandtwoothernoncomswentout tomeet them.Theyconferredforamomentbutdidn’ttellusanything.Allalongthetrainpeoplewerelookingout.Theforestseemedalikelyhavenforterrorists.Ourtrainhadbeenstandingstillforseveralminuteswhenweheardthedistantsoundofwheels.Wewerewalkingupanddowntryingtowarmourselvesupwhenablast from awhistle accompanied by gestures indicated thatwe should return to our posts at once.Alocomotiveappearedinthedistanceonthetrackwehadjustleft;itwasentirelyblackedout.,

WhatIsawnextfrozemewithhorror.IwishIwereawriterofgeniussothatIcoulddojusticetothevisionwhichappearedbeforeus.Firstwesawacarloadedwithrailwaymaterials,pushedalonginfrontof the locomotive andhiding its dim lights.Thencame the smoking locomotive, its tender, andaclosed car with a hole in its roof to accommodate a short length of smoking pipe-probably the trainkitchen. Behind this another car with high railings carried armed German soldiers. A twin-mountedmachineguncoveredtherestofthetrain,whichconsistedsimplyofopenflatcarslikeours,butloadedwithaverydifferentkindoffreight.Thefirstoneofthesetopassmyuncomprehendingeyesseemedtobecarryingaconfusedheapofobjects,whichonlygraduallybecamerecognizableashumanbodies.Directlybehind this heap other peoplewere clinging together, crouching or standing. Each carwas full to theburstingpoint.Oneofus,moreinformedthantheothers,toldusintwowordswhatwewerelookingat:“Russianprisoners.”

IthoughtIhadrecognizedthebrowncoatsIhadseenoncebefore,nearthecastle,butitwasreallytoodarktobesure.Halslookedatme.Exceptfortheburningredspotsmadebythecold,hisfacewasaswhiteasasheet.

“Did you see that?” he whispered. “They’ve piled up their dead to shield themselves from thewind.”

InmystupefactionIcouldonlyreplywithsomethinglikeagroan.Everycarwascarryingashieldofhumanbodies.Istoodasifpetrifiedbythehorrorofthesightrollingslowlyby:facesentirelydrainedofblood,andbarefeetstiffenedbydeathandcold.

Thetenthcarhadjustpasseduswhensomethingevenmorehorriblehappened.Fourorfivebodiesslidfromthebadlybalancedloadandfelltothesideofthetrack.Thefunerealtraindidn’tstop.Agroupofofficersandnoncomsfromourtrainwalkedovertoinvestigate.DrivenbyIdon’tknowwhatelementofcuriosityIjumpeddownfromourcarandwentovertotheofficers.Isalutedandaskedinafalteringvoice if the men were dead. An officer looked at me in astonishment and I realized that I had just

abandonedmypost.Hemusthavenoticedmyconfusion,ashedidn’treprimandme.“I think so,”he said sadly. “Youcanhelpyourcomradesbury them.”Thenhe turnedandwalked

away.Halshadcomewithme.Wewentbacktoourcartofetchshovelsandbegantodigatrenchashortdistanceabovetheembankment.Lausandanotherfellowlookedthroughthedeadmen’sclothestotrytofindsomeidentification.Ilearnedlaterthatmostofthesepoordevilshadnocivilianidentity.HalsandIneededallournerve todrag twoof themover to theditchwithout lookingat them.Wewerecoveringthemwithdirtwhenthedeparturewhistleblew.Itwasgrowingcolderbytheminute.Ifeltovercomebyavastsenseofdisgust.

Anhour laterour trainpassed throughadoublehedgeof structureswhich,despite theabsenceoflight,wecouldseeweremoreorlessdestroyed.Wepassedanothertrain,lesssinisterthantheprecedingone,butscarcelycomforting.Itscarsweremarkedwithredcrosses.Throughsomeofthewindowswecould see stretchers,whichmust have been carrying badlywoundedmen.At otherwindows, soldiersswathedinbandageswerewavingtous.

FinallywearrivedatMinskstation.Ourtrainpulledtoastopdownthewholelengthofalong,wideplatform covered with a busy, motley crowd: armed soldiers and soldiers in fatigues, civilians, andgroups of Russian prisoners cordoned in by other prisoners who wore red-and white armbands andcarriedtruncheons.Theseweretheinformerswhohaddenouncedthefamous“People’sCommissars”andwere therefore anti-Communist. They claimed the right of guarding their comrades, which suited ourauthorities very well, as no one would be more likely to get a decent day’s work from the Russianprisoners.

Wecouldhearordersbeinggiven,firstinGerman,theninRussian.Acrowdofmencameuptoourtrain,andtheunloadingbeganinthelightsofthetrucksparkedalongtheplatform.Wejoinedinthiswork,which took the better part of two hours,warming ourselves a little, then plunging oncemore into ourprovisions.Hals, a greedy-guts, had consumedmore than half his allotment in less than twodays.Wespentthenightinalargebuildingwherewewereabletosleepinacertaindegreeofcomfort.

Thenext daywewere sent to amilitaryhospital,wherewewerekept for twodays andgiven aseriesofshots.Minskwasverybadlydamaged.Thereweremanyguttedhousesandwallscross-hatchedbymachine-gunfire.Someofthestreetsweretotallyimpassable,withacontinuouslineofshellholesandbombcraters,oftenmorethanfifteenfeetdeep.Passagewaysofasorthadbeenmadebyplanksandothersolidobjectsthrownacrossthischaos.FromtimetotimewegavewaytoaRussianwomanloadedwithprovisions,andalwaysfollowedbyfourorfivechildrenwhostaredatuswithastonishinglyroundeyes.There were also many curious shops whose broken windows had been replaced by boards or sacksstuffedwith straw.Hals,Lensen,Morvan, and Iwent into severalof theseoutof curiosity.Therewasalwaysanarrayofbigearthenwarecrockspaintedinvariouscolors,whichcontainedeitheraliquidandsteepingplants,driedvegetables,oracuriousheavysyrupwhichwashalfwaybetweenjamandbutter.

Aswedidn’tknowhow to saysomuchas“hello” inRussian,wealwayswent into theseplacestalkingamongourselves.ThefewRussianswhowereinsideinvariablyassumedanattitudehalfanxious,halfsmiling,whiletheshopkeeperorproprietresswouldapproachuswithawhite-lippedsmileandofferuslargedippersoftheseproducts,inanobviousefforttoplacatethefiercewarriorstheyimaginedustobe.

We were often given a fine yellowish flour to mix into this syrup whose taste was far fromdisagreeable,somewhatreminiscentofhoney.Itsonlydiscouragingaspectwasasuperabundanceoffat.Icanstill see the facesof thoseRussians, smilingas theyheldout thisproductandpronouncingawordwhichsoundedratherlike“ourlka.”Ineverwassurewhetherthismeant“eat”orwassimplythenameofthemixture.Thereweredayswhenwereallygorgedourselveson“ourlka,”whichnonethelessdidnotpreventusfromappearingateleveno’clockfortheofficialmiddaymeal.

HalsacceptedeverythingtheRussiansofferedhimwithsomuchpoliteness.SometimesIfoundhim

quiterevolting,holdingouthismesstinfor the largessof theseSovietmerchantsas theypouredintoitmixtures resembling eachother only in their loose, runny consistency.Sometimeshis tinwouldhold acombination of the famous ourlka, cooked wheat, salt herring cut into pieces, and several otheringredients.Whatever theconcoction,Halsdevoured itwithevident relish, likeagreatpig.Exceptforthesemoments of distraction seized in the intervals between ourmany jobs, we scarcely had time toamuseourselves.Minskwasanimportantarmysupplycenter,whereshipmentswereconstantly loadedandunloaded.

Lifeforthetroopsinthissectorwasremarkablywell-organized.Mailwasdistributed;therewerefilmsforsoldiersonleave-whichwewerenotallowedtoattend-libraries,andrestaurantsrunbyRussiancivilians,butreservedentirelyforGermansoldiers.TherestaurantswerealltooexpensiveformeandIneverwentintothem,butHals,whowouldsacrificeanythingforagoodstuffing,spentallhismoneyinthese places, and a certain amount of ours. The understanding was that he would give us a detailedaccountofhisexperiences,whichheadheredtofaithfully,withmanyembellishments.Weslaveredwithvicariouspleasureaswelistenedtohim.

WeweremuchbetterfedthanwehadbeeninPoland,andwereabletosupplementourrationsverycheaply-which we really needed to do. The cold in these opening days of December had becomeextremely sharp, dropping to more than five degrees below zero. The snow, which fell in greatabundance, never melted, and in places was already over three feet deep. Evidently this slowed themovementofsupplies to thefront,and,accordingto troopsreturningfromforwardpositionswhere thecoldwasevenmorebitterthanatMinsk,thepoorfellowswerereducedtosharingrationswhichwerealreadyridiculouslysmall.Insufficientfoodcombinedwiththecoldproducedmanycasesofpneumonia,frostbite,andfrozenlimbs.

Atthismoment,theReichwasmakinganimmenseefforttoprotectitssoldiersfromtheimplacablehostility of the Russian winter. AtMinsk, Kovno, and Kiev, there were enormous stores of blankets,specialwinter clothingmadeof sheepskin, overshoeswith thick insulating soles anduppers ofmattedhair,gloves,hoodsofdoublecatskin,andportableheaterswhichoperatedequallywellongasoline,oil,or solidified alcohol, mountains of rations in specially conditioned boxes, and thousands of othernecessities. Itwas our duty, as convoy troops of theRollbahn, to deliver all of this to the front lines,wherethecombattroopsweredesperatelyawaitingus.

Wemadesuperhumanefforts,andyettheywerenotenough.Thepunishmentwesuffered,notatthehandsoftheRussianArmy,whichuntilthatmomenthaddonealmostnothingexceptretreat,butfromthecold,isalmostbeyondthepowersofdescription.Outsidethegreattownstherehadnotyetbeentimetorepairthedamagedroads-fewandfarbetweentobeginwith-ortoopenothers.Whileourunitwasdoingitsautumngymnastics,theWehrmacht,afteranextraordinaryadvance,hadmarcheditselfanditssuppliesintoanunbelievablequagmire.Thenthefirstfrostshadsolidifiedthemonstrousrutsleadingtotheeast.Ourmachineshadsufferedenormouslyontheseroads,whichinfactwerepassableonlyforwagons,butthe hardening of the soil had temporarily allowed the provisioning of the troops. Thenwinter poureddownitstonsofsnowacrosstheimmensityofRussia,onceagainparalyzingtraffic.

That is thepointwehad reached inDecember, 1942.We shoveled away snowso that our truckscouldmoveforwardfifteenortwentymilesinamorning,onlytofindoureffortscoveredoveragainthesame day. The earth beneath the snowwas a sinister relief of bumps and potholes,whichwe tampeddownorblewup.Intheeveningswescrambledtofindshelterforthenight.

Sometimesthiswouldbeabutfittedoutbytheengineers,sometimesanisba,*-Aloghut-oranyhousewe could find.Weoften crowdedmore than fiftymen into a but intended for a couple and twochildren.ThemostdesiredaccommodationswerethebigtentsespeciallydesignedforRussia.Theyweretall and pointed, like teepees,weather-proofed, and planned for ninemen.Wewere rarely fewer thantwenty,andevenatthatthereweren’tenoughtents.Luckily,wehadraidedourstoresoffoodbecauseof

thecold,andwithenoughtoeat,wewereabletokeepgoingreasonablywell.Someofusbegantocrawlwithvermin,aswewereonlyrarelyabletowash,andwhenwereturnedtoMinsk,ourfirstdutywastopassthroughdisinfection.

Iwas beginning to feel that I’d hadmore than enough ofHolyRussia and of truck driving. LikeeverybodyelseIwasafraidof theideaofbeingunderfire,butIwasalsobeginningtolongtousetheMauserwhichhadbeendraggingaroundwithmeforwhatseemedlikeaneternity,withouteverbeingtheslightestuse.Ifeltthatsomehowfiringatsomethingwouldavengemeformysufferingsfromthecold,andfrommyblisters.Myhandswerebadlyblisteredfromshoveling,andmywoolengloveswerealreadyfullofholes,exposingthetopsofmyicyfingers.Myhandsandfeetfeltthecoldsosharplythatitsometimesseemed as if the pain were stabbingme in the heart. The thermometer remained around five degreesbelowzero.

WewerenowbilletedsomefifteenmilesnorthofMinsk,guardingahugeparkingdepotformilitaryvehicles.Weoccupiedthesevenoreighthousesinthehamlet,leavingonlyone,thelargest,occupiedbyaRussian family.TheirnamewasKhorsky; theyhad twodaughtersandclaimed tohaveoriginallycomefromtheCrimea,whichtheyspokeofwithnostalgia.Theyranakindofcanteenwherewecouldbuyfoodanddrink-fromourownpockets-andfindafewcompanionswithwhomtokilltime.

The snow had stopped, but the cold was growing steadily more intense. One evening after ourcompanyhadbeeninthehamletforaboutaweek,Iwasscheduledfortwohoursofguardduty.Icrossedthehugeparkinglot,wherefivehundredormorevehiclesofeverydescriptionwerehalfburiedinsnow.Ihadbeenfeelingapprehensivealldayattheprospectofwalkingacrossthisspaceatnight.Itwouldbesoeasyforpartisanstohidebetweenthecarsandshootusaswewentby.ButIhadgraduallypersuadedmyselfthatthewar,ifitexistedatall,wasreallytakingplacesomewhereelse.TheonlyRussiansIhadseenwereeithermerchantsorprisoners,anditseemedhighlyprobablethatIwouldneverseeanyothers.

Withthisideainmyhead,Iwalkedtomypost,aboutfifteenyardsfromthefirstvehicles,throughatrenchabout ayarddeep,whichallowedus to advanceas far as thecars,orwithdraw,withoutbeingexposed.Theedgesofthetrenchhadalreadybeenraisednearlyanotherthreefeetbynewsnow,andeachfresh fall obliged us to dig. I stood up on the box that allowed the sentry to see a little farther. I hadwrappedablanketovermycoat,whichmadeitveryhardformetomovemyarms.

Ihadrefusedmyallotmentofalcohol,thetasteofwhichdisgustedme,andwasmentallypreparingmyselfforanothersiegeofuncontrollabletremblingfromthecold.Thenightwasclear;Icouldhaveseenaravenahundredyardsoff.Inthedistancethehorizonwascutbyamassofstuntedbushes.Threeofthefourtelephonelineswhichcrossedourcampwerevisible,stretchingawayindifferentdirections.Theirposts,shovedunevenlyintotheground,wereindifferentsupportsforthewire,whichsometimesdroopedrightdowntothesnow.

Mynose,theonlypartofmedirectlyexposed,begantoburnwithcold.Ihadpulledmycapdownasfar as I could, so thatmy forehead and part ofmy cheekswere covered.Over this Iwore the helmetrequiredforguardduty.Theturned-upcollarofthepullovermyparentshadsentmeoverlappedtheedgeofmycapatthebackofmyhead.

From time to time I looked at the expanse ofmachinery I was guarding andwonderedwhat wewould do if we had to move it all in a hurry. The engines must have reached a state of magnificentsolidity!

Ihadbeenatmypostforagoodhourwhensuddenlyasilhouetteappearedattheedgeoftheparkinglot.I threwmyselfdownintothebottomofmyhole.Beforeextractingmyhandsfromthedepthsofmypockets,Iriskedanotherlookovermyparapet.Thesilhouettewasadvancingtowardme.Itmustbeoneofourmenmakingtherounds,butsupposingitwasaBolshevik!

Gruntingwiththeeffort,Ipulledmyhandsfromtheirshelterandgrabbedmygun.Thebreech,stickywithfrost,bitintomyfingers,asImaneuveredmyweaponintofiringpositionandshoutedout,“Werda?”

Igotbackareasonablereply,andmybulletremainedinthegun.Allthesame,Ihadbeenprudenttotaketheseelementaryprecautions:itwasanofficergoinghisrounds.Isaluted.

“Everythingallright?”“Yes,Leutnant.”“Fine.Well,HappyChristmas.”“What?IsitChristmas?”“Yes.Lookoverthere.”HepointedtotheKhorskys’house.Theroof, loadedwithsnow,slopeddowntogroundlevel; the

narrowwindowswereshiningfarmorebrightlythanblackoutregulationsusuallypermitted,andintheirlightIcouldseetheswiftlymovingsilhouettesofmycomrades.Afewmomentslateratallflameburstfromanenormouswoodpilewhichmusthavebeensoakedwithgasoline.

Asongsupportedbythreehundredvoicesascendedslowlyintothestillnessofthefrozennight.“OWeihnacht!OstilleNacht!”Wasitpossible?Atthatmoment,everythingbeyondtheperimeterofthecampwaswithoutmeaningforme.Icouldn’ttearmyeyesfromthelightofthebonfire.Thefacesclosesttotheflameswere illuminated; the restwere lost indarkness,while thestrongoutpouringof songcontinued,divided now into several parts. Perhaps the circumstances of this particular Christmas night made acriticaldifference,butinallthetimesincethenIhaven’theardanythingwhichmovedmesomuch.

Thememoriesofmyearliestyouth,stillsoclose,returnedtomeforthefirsttimesinceIhadbeenasoldier. What was happening at home this evening? What was happening in France? We had heardbulletinswhichinformedusthatmanyFrenchtroopswerenowfightingalongwithus-newswhichmademerejoice.ThethoughtofFrenchmenandGermansmarchingsidebysideseemedmarveloustome.Soonwewouldnolongerhavetobecold;thewarwouldbeover,andwecouldallreciteouradventuresathome.ThisChristmashadn’tbroughtmeanygiftIcouldholdinmyhand,buthadbroughtsomuchgoodnewsabout theharmonybetweenmytwocountries that I feltoverwhelmed.BecauseIknewthat Iwasnowaman,Ikeptfirmlyatthebackofmymindafoolishandembarrassingideawhichkeptpursuingme:Ireallywouldhavelikedsomeonetogivemeaningeniousmechanicaltoy.

Mycompanionswerestillsinging,andallalongthefrontmillionslikethemmusthavebeensingingastheywere.Ididn’tknowthat,atthatveryhour,SovietT-34tanks,takingadvantageofthetrucewhichChristmaswassupposedtobring,werecrushingtheforwardpostsoftheSixthArmyintheArmotovsksector.Ididn’tknowthatmycomradesintheSixthArmy,inwhichoneofmyuncleswasserving,weredyingbythethousandsinthehellofStalingrad.Ididn’tknowthatGermantownswerebeingsubjectedtothehorrifyingbombardmentsoftheR.A.F.andtheU.S.A.F.AndIwouldneverhavedaredtothinkthattheFrenchwouldrefuseaFranco-Germanentente.

Thiswas, in itsway, themostbeautifulChristmas Ihadever seen,madeentirelyofdisinterestedemotionandstrippedofalltawdrytrimmings.Iwasallalonebeneathanenormousstarredsky,andIcanrememberatearrunningdownmyfrozencheek-atearneitherofpainnorofjoybutofemotioncreatedbyintenseexperience.

BythetimeIgotbacktothebillet,theofficershadputanendtothecelebrations,andorderedthebonfire extinguished. Hals had saved a half bottle of schnapps for me. I swallowed down a fewmouthfuls,nottodisappointhim.

Fourmoredayswentby.Thehardcoldcontinued,embellishedbysnow-filledsqualls.Wewentoutonlyforobligatoryduties,whichwereducedtotheminimum,andburnedtonsofwood.Thehouseshadbeenbuilttoconserveheat,andweweresometimeseventoohot.Wefeltverywell,andasisusualundersuchcircumstances,weverysoonhadsometrouble.

Oursbeganonemorningsometimearoundthreeo’clock.Aguardnoisilykickedopenthedoorofthehut, admittingablastof icy air and two soldierswhose stiff, bluish facesmade them look remarkablyalike.Theyrushedtoourstove,anditwasafewminutesbeforetheyspoke.Alongwitheverybodyelse,Ishoutedatthemtoshutthedoor.Inreply,wereceivedacurse,andwereorderedtostandatattention.Aswegaped, somewhat startled andwithout reaction, the fellowwhohad shoutedkickedover thebench

standingnexttohim,andshoutingouthisorderasecondtime,hurledhimselfattheimprovisedbedofoneofourmen,violentlyrippingapart themoundofblankets,coats,andjacketsinwhichourcomradehadburiedhimself.Inthedimlightofthestovewerecognizedtheepaulettesofafeldwebel.

“Are you bastards going to get the hell up?” he shouted pulling out everybody he could reach.“Who’s at the head of this bunch? It’s a disgrace! Do you think this is how we’ll stop the Russianoffensive?Ifyou’renotreadyintenminutesI’llthrowyououtofherejustthewayyouare.”

Stupidwithsleepandstunnedbyoursuddenawakening,wehurriedlycollectedourthings.Leavingthedoorwideopen,thefeldwebelrushedfromourbutlikeamadman,toinjectpanicintotheisbaacrosstheway.Wehadnoveryclearideaofwhatwashappening.Oursentry,whoseemedquiteshaken,toldusthattheintrudershadarrivedfromMinskinasidecar.Thosefifteen-oddmilesmusthavetakenthemquitealongtime,whichwouldexplaintheirfuriouscondition.

But,despiteallthedemonichowlingthefeldwebelcouldmuster,itwasafulltwentyminutesbeforewewerestandingatattentioninthesnow.Laus,whohadbeenasdeeplyasleepasanyoneelse,triedtoshockusintowakefulnesswithapretenseofrageasintenseashiscolleague’s.

The other feldwebel, whose anger had not abated, barked out our orders: “You will joinKommandantUltraner’sunitatMinskbeforedawn.”HeturnedtoLaus.“YouwilltakefifteentrucksfromthedepotandproceedasI’veordered.”

Why hadn’t he telephoned, instead ofworking himself into such a state?We found out later that,whilewehadbeensleepingpeacefully,thetelephonelinehadbeencutinfourplaces.

The difficulty of getting under way and bringing the trucks out from the depot was almostunimaginable.Wehadtorolloutbarrelsofgasolineandalcoholtofillthegastanksandradiators,crankup the engines an exhausting labor-and shovel out cubic yards of snow, almost entirely without light.Whenthefifteentruckswereready,wesetoutforMinsk,followingthebumpy,snow-coveredtrackthefeldwebelhadtakentoreachus.Oneofthetrucksskiddedontheicyground,andittookagoodhalfhourtopullitfromtheditch.Wehookedittoanothertruck,whichcouldonlyskatealongtheice.Intheend,almosttheentirecompanywasinvolvedinthestruggle,,andweliterallycarriedthedamnmachinebackontotheroad.Towardeighto’clockinthemorning,wellbeforethelatewinterdawnofthoseregions,wejoinedUltranerandhis regiment,andstoodshivering,despiteourexertions, inavastcitysquare,withtwoorthreethousandothersoldiers.Minskseemedtobeburstingwithexcitementandenergy.

Anetworkofloudspeakerswhichhadbeensetupthroughoutthesquaredisseminatedashortlecturefrom theHighCommand.The lecturepointedout thatevenavictoriousarmyhad toacceptdeathsandcasualties, and that our role as a convoy unit was to carry, at whatever the cost and despite all thehardships,whichtheHighCommandthoroughlyrecognized,thefood,munitions,andmaterielthecombattroops required.Ourconvoy,byanymeansavailable,had to reach thebanksof theVolga, so thatvonPaulus could continue to wage his victorious battle. One thousand miles separated us from ourdestination,andwehadn’tamomenttospare.

Weleftafterthemiddaymeal.Ifoundmyself,separatedfrommyclosestfriends,aboardafive-and-a-half-tonD.K.W.loadedwithheavyautomaticweapons.Theroadleavingthecitywaswellploughed,andwe rolledalongat abriskpace.Theremusthavebeen roadgangsworkingaround theclock.Thesnowbanksoneithersideoftheroadwerenearlytwelvefeethigh.Wepassedasignpostbristlingwithpointers.OnthesignindicatingtheroadwetookIreadNACHPRIPET,KIEV,DNIEPER,KHARKOV,DNIEPROPETROVSK.

Ourtroopshadroundedupeveryonecapableofholdingashovel,andwewereabletocovernearlyone hundredmiles in good time.We soon reached the summit of a hill fromwhichwe could see theimmensityoftheUkrainestretchingintothedistanceunderayellowishgraysky.

Thetenortwelvevehiclesaheadofushadsufferedaseriousreductioninspeed.Aheadofthem,acompanyofsoldierswerebusilyengagedinmovingsnow.Aheavytruckwaspushingasledfittedwitha

kindofventilatorwhichblewoutthesnowinalldirections.Beyondlayaninfinityofimmaculatesnownearlythreefeetdeep.(Heavysnowfallsburiedtheroadsocompletelyafterthepassageofeachconvoythatweneededacompass todig itoutagain.)Ourcommandingofficerandhisnoncomshadwalkedashortdistanceoutontotheupsweptsnow,sinkinginoverthetopsoftheirboots,andwerescanningthehorizon,wonderinghow they couldpossiblyproceed throughall that soggycotton. InsideourD.K.W.,withallthewindowsshut,Iandmytravelingcompanionwererelishingthewarmthofourrunningengine.

Butsoontheywereorderingusoutofourmachinesanddistributingsnowshovels.Asthereweren’tenoughtogoround,ournoncomstoldustouseanythingwecouldlayourhandson.Isawmendiggingwithboards,helmets,bigservingplatters….

WithtwootherfellowsIwaspushingagainstthetailgateofatruckwhichwehaddetached,hopingtouseitasacrudesortofsnowplough.Theblastofafeldwebel’swhistleinterruptedourdisorganizedlabor.

“Whatdoyouthinkyou’reprovingover there?Comealongwithme;we’llgoandroundupsomemanpower.Bringyourguns.”

I felt a surge of jubilation, which I kept well-hidden, as I inwardly thanked the idiots who haddevised our hopeless procedure. I preferred almost anything to shoveling snow. We followed thefeldwebel. I had no ideawhere he hoped to findmoremanpower.We had only passed two desertedvillagessinceleavingMinsk.Withourgunsslung,ourlittlegroupsplitofffromthetrackthetruckshadtracedinthesnow,andheadednorth.Wesankinoverourkneeswitheverystep,whichmadeprogressextremelydifficult.

FortenminutesIdidmybesttofollowthefeldwebel,whowasaboutfifteenfeetaheadofme.Iwasgaspingforbreath,andIcouldfeelthesweatbeginningtotrickledownmyspineundertheheavyclothofmycoat.Mybreathprojectedlongstreamsofvapor,whichvanishedinstantlyintheicyair.Ikeptmyeyesgluedtothefeldwebel’sdeepfootprints,tryingtostepexactlyintothem,butashewasbiggerthanI,thismeant that every stepwas a leap. I deliberately avoided looking at the horizon,which seemed so faraway.Athinscreenofbirchessoonhidtheconvoyfromus.

Ludicrous inoursmallness,wecontinuedforwardinto the immensityofwhite. Iwasbeginningtowonder where our noncom thought he would find his famous manpower. We had been exhaustingourselves in thisway for nearly an hour. Suddenly, in the absolute quiet, we heard a rumbling soundwhichwasgrowingsteadilylouder.Westopped.

Oursergeantlimitedhimselftotheobservationthatwehadn’tmuchfurthertogo,andthenaddedthatitwasapitywewouldmissthisone.

Ididn’treallyunderstandwhathewastalkingabout,butthenoisewasbecomingincreasinglyclear.To our left I caught sight of a black line stretching across the snow.A train!Wewere approaching arailwayline.Istilldidn’tseewhatatraincoulddoforus.Wouldtheytakeourcargoesonboard?

Thetrainwasgoingbyveryslowlyaboutfivehundredyardsaheadofus.Itwasextremelylong,alineofblackbrokenatintervalsbyoneofthefivelocomotives,spewingoutimpressivecloudsofwhitevaporwhichvanishedalmostinstantly,asifbymagic.Thetrainmusthavehadaspecialmechanismforsnowdisposal.

Fifteenminuteslater,wereachedthetracks.“Alotofsupply trainsgo throughhere,” thefeldwebelsaid.“Mostof thecarscarrymateriel,but

there areusually a fewpassenger cars forRussian civilians.We’ll stoponeof themandcollect someRussianlabor.”

FinallyIunderstood.Allwehadtodonowwaswait.Wetrampedbrisklyupanddownthetrackstryingtokeepwarm.

However,itfeltasifthetemperaturehadrisensomewhat,asifbynowitmightbeupto15degrees-whichindicatestheastonishingdegreetowhichwehadgrownaccustomedtozerotemperatures.Thecold,as

wewaited for the next train, seemed quite bearable. Soldierswearing only pulloverswere shovelingsnowandstreamingwithsweat.Ihavenevermetanyonebetterabletostandpunishment,whetherfromcoldorheatoranythingelse,thantheGermans.EachRussianIsawwasmorefrozenthanthelast,butIcertainlycouldnotfeelsuperioronthataccount.LifeinRussiaformewasaperpetualshiveringfit.

Thefirsttrainpassedbywithoutevenslowingdown.Ourfeldwebel,whohadoutdonehimselfinhiseffortstostopit,wasfurious.Soldiersshoutedtousfromthetrainthattheirorderswerenottostopforanyreasonwhatever.

Extremelyirritated,wewalkedoninthedirectionofthetrainwhichhadpassedus.Atallevents,theroadmustbeparalleltothetracks;wewouldonlyhavetomakearight-angleturntofindourcompanyagain.Thedifficultywasthatwewerefarfromthekitchenandthehourforthedistributionoffoodmusthavecomeandgone.Ihadtwopiecesofryebreadinmycoatpocket,butIdidn’twanttotakethemoutfor fear of having to share them. The two soldiers withwhom I had been shoveling snowmust haveknowneachotherforsometime.Theyweredeepinconversation,andhadstucktogethereversincewe’dleft theconvoy.Ournoncomwaswalkingaheadofus,byhimself,andI triedtocatchupwithhim.Bynowwehadbeenwalkingforsometime.Thetracksweresunkbetweentwobankswhichsupportedathingrowthofscrubbybrush.Theyextendedstraightaheadintoanindefinitedistance.Ifatraincamealong,wewouldbeabletoseeitforatleastfivemiles.Thescrubonthebanksatthispointwasgrowingmorethickly,andextendingagreaterdistancefromthetracks.

Itwasnowsomethreehourssincewehadleftourcompany.Everythingstoodoutclearlyagainstthesnow.ForsomemomentsnowIhadbeenstaringatablackshapeabout fivehundredyardsaway.Tenminuteslater,wecouldseethatitwasahut.Ourfeldwebelwaswalkingtowardit;itmustbeashelterforrailwayworkers.Thefeldwebelraisedhisvoice:“Hurryup.We’llwaitinthatshelteroverthere.”

Itdidn’tseemabadidea.Wehadregrouped,andayoungfellowcoveredwithfreckles,oneofmysnow-shovelingcompanions,wasjokingwithhisfriend.Weweremakingourwaytowardthebutwhenaviolentburstofsoundstruckmyears.At thesamemoment,Isaw,to therightof thehut,a lightpuffofwhitesmoke.

Utterlyastounded,Ilookedaroundatmycompanions.Thefeldwebelhadflunghimselfdownontheground like a goalie onto a ball, and was loading his automatic. The fellow with the freckles wasstaggeringtowardmewithenormouseyesandacuriousstupefiedexpression.Whenhewasaboutsixfeetfromme, he fell to his knees.Hismouth opened as if hewanted to shout, but no sound came, and hetoppledoverbackward.Asecondbarrageofsoundrippedtheair,followedbyamodulatedwhistle.

Without thinking, I threwmyself flat on the snow.The feldwebel’s automatic crackled, and I sawsomesnowfromtheroofofthebutshootupintotheair.Icouldn’ttakemyeyesoffthefreckledyoungsoldier,whosemotionlessbodylayafewyardsaway.

“Coverme,youidiots,”thefeldwebelshouted,ashejumpedupandranforward.I looked at the freckled soldier’s friend. He seemedmore surprised than frightened. Calmly, we

aimedourweaponstowardthewoods,fromwhichafewshotsstillrangout,andbegantofire.ThedetonationofmyMauserrestoredsomeofmyconfidence,butIwasstillveryscared.Twomore

bulletswhistledinmyears.Oursergeant,withappallingself-assurance,stoodupandthrewagrenade.Theairrangwiththenoiseoftheexplosion,andoneoftheworm-eatenplanksofthebutdisintegrated.

Withincomprehensiblecalm,Icontinuedtostareatthecabin.Thefeldwebel’sautomaticwasstillfiring.Withoutpanic,Islidanotherbulletintothebarrelofmygun.AsIwasabouttoshoot,twoblackfiguresranfromtheruinsofthehut,andheadedtowardtheforest.Itwasaperfectopportunity.Mygunsightstoodoutclearlyinblackagainstthewhiteofthecountryside,andthenmergedintothedarknessofoneofthegallopingfigures.Ipressedthetrigger…andmissed.

Ourchiefhadrunasfarasthehut,firingafterthefleeingmenwithouthittingthem.Afteramoment,hesignaledustojoinhim,andweextricatedourselvesfromourholesinthesnow.

Thefeldwebelwasstaringatsomethingintheruinsofthecabin.Aswedrewcloserwecouldseeamanleaningagainstthewall.Hisface,halfcoveredbyawild,shaggybeard,wasturnedtowardus;hiseyes looked damp. He gazed at us without a word; his clothes, of skin and fur, were not a militaryuniform.Myeyewascaughtbyhislefthand.Itwassoakedwithblood.Morebloodwasrunningfromhiscollar.Ifeltatwingeofuneaseforhim.Thefeldwebel’svoicebroughtmebacktoreality.

“Partisan!”heshouted.“Hein?…Youknowwhatyou’regoingtoget!”HepointedhisgunattheRussian,whoseemedfrightenedandrolledfartherbackintothecorner.I

toorecoiled,butournoncomwasalreadyputtinghisautomaticbackinitsholster.“Youtakecareofhim,”heordered,wavingtowardthewoundedman.Wecarriedthepartisanoutside.Hegroaned,andsaidsomethingunintelligible.Thesoundofanapproachingtrainwasgrowingsteadilylouder.Thisone,however,wasreturningto

the rear.Wemanaged tostop it.Threesoldierswrapped inheavy reindeer-skincoats jumped from thefirstcarriage.Oneofthemwasalieutenant,andwesnappedtoattention.“WhatinGod’snamedoyouthinkyou’redoing?”hebarked.“Whydidyoustopus?”

Ournoncomexplainedthatwewerelookingforlabor.“Thistrainiscarryingonlythewoundedanddying,”thelieutenantsaid.“Ifwehadsometroopson

leaveI’dhelpyouout.Asitis,Ican’tdoanythingforyou.”“We’vegottwowoundedmen,”thesergeantventured.Thelieutenantwasalreadywalkingovertothefreckledsoldier,whowaslyingmotionlesswherehe

hadfallen.“Youcanseethatthisone’sdead.”“No,MeinLeutnant.He’sstillbreathing.”“Ah…well,maybe…Butanotherfifteenminutes..”hegesturedvaguely.“Well,allright…we’ll

takehim.”Hewhistledattwoskeletalstretcher-bearers,wholiftedouryoungcomrade.IthoughtIcouldseeabrownstaininthemiddleofhisback,butIwasn’tsurewhetheritwasbloodmixedwiththegreenofhiscoat,orsomethingelse.

Andtheotherone?“thelieutenantaskedimpatiently.”Overthere,besidethehut.”Thelieutenantlookedatthebeardedman,whowasclearlydying.“Who’sthis?”“ARussian,MeinLeutnant,apartisan.”“Sothat’sit.DoyoureallythinkI’mgoingtosaddlemyselfwithoneofthosebastardswho’llshoot

youinthebackanytime-asifwaratthefrontwasn’tenough!”Heshoutedanorder to the twosoldierswhowerewithhim.Theywalkedover to theunfortunate

manlyingonthesnow,andtwoshotsrangout.Ashorttimelater,weweremakingourwaybacktotheroad.Ournoncomhadabandonedtheideaof

an improvised labor force, andwewouldnow rejoinourunit,whichundoubtedlyhadnotmademuchprogress.

I had just been under fire for the first time, an experience I can no longer describe with anyprecision.An element of the absurdwasmixed into the day’s events: the feldwebel’s footsteps in thesnowweresoenormous,andI,inmyconfusion,keptlookingfortheyoungfreckledsoldierwhoshouldhave been returningwith us. Everything had happened so quickly that I hadn’t been able to grasp thesignificanceofanything.Nevertheless,twohumanbeingshadsufferedsenselessdeaths.Ourshadnotyetcelebratedhiseighteenthbirthday.

Ithadalreadybeendarkforsometimewhenwefinallyfoundourcompany.Thenightwasclearandcold,andthethermometerwasdroppingwithhorrifyingspeed.

Despiteourforcedmarchofnearlyfourhours,wewereshakingwithcold,andfamished.Myheadwasswimmingwithexhaustion,and frost frommybreath layon thehighcollarwhich Ihadpulledupalmosttomyeyes.

For some timebeforewe reached it,wewereable to seeourconvoy, standingoutclearly,black

againstwhite.Itsprogresshadindeedbeensmall.Thetruckshadsunkinthroughtheicywhitecrustoverthetopsoftheirwheels,andgreatslabsofsnowclungtotheirtiresandmudguards.Almosteveryonehadtaken refuge inside the cabs. After chewing on their meager rations, they had wrapped themselves ineverything theycouldfind,andwere trying tosleep,despite thebittercold.Ashortdistanceaway, thetwofellowswho’dbeenchosenforguarddutywerestampingontheirboots,hopingtowarmtheirfeet.

Insidethecabs,throughthefrostedglass,Icouldseeanoccasionalgleamfromsomeone’scigaretteorpipe.Iclimbedintomytruckandfeltinthedarknessformyrucksackandmesstin.Whenthetinwasproppedbetweenmyicyfingers,Iwolfeddownafewmouthfulsofsomefilthymixturethat tastedlikefrozensoya.ItwassobadthatItippedmostofitontothesnowandatesomethingelse.

Outside,Icouldhearsomebodytalking.Icranedmynecktoseewhoitwas.Asmallfirehadjustbeenkindledinaholeinthesnow,andwasburningwithacheerfulbrilliance.IjumpeddownfromthetruckandhurriedasfastasIcould towardthissourceof light,heat,andjoy.Threemenwerestandingbesidethefire,amongthemmyfeldwebelofthisafternoon.Hewasbreakingpiecesofwoodacrosshisknee.

“I’vehadenoughofthiscold.Ihadpneumonialastwinter,andifIgetitagainit’sgoodbyetome.Anyway,ourtrucksarevisibleforatleasttwomiles,sowe’renotgivinganythingawaybyjustlightingafewsticks.”

“You’reright,”repliedafellowwhomusthavebeenatleastforty-five.“TheRussians,partisansornot,areallsnugintheirbeds.”

“Icertainlywouldbegladtobehomeinmybed,”saidanother,staringintotheflames.Wewereallpracticallyinthefire,exceptforthebigfeldwebel,whowasbusilyreducingapacking

casetofragments.Suddenlysomeoneshoutedatus.“Hey,youoverthere!”Afigurewasapproachingusbetweenthetrucks.Wecouldseethesilvertrimonhiscapgleaming

throughthedarkness.Alreadythefeldwebelandtheoldmanweretramplingonthefire.Thecaptaincameuptous,andwestoodatattention.

“Whatdoyouthinkyou’redoing?Youmusthavelostyourminds!Don’tyouknowtheorders?Sinceyou’vecomeout towatchroundthecampfire,youcanpickupyourgunsandmakeanicepatrolof theneighborhood.Yourfestivitieshaveundoubtedlyattractedafewguests.

Nowit’suptoyoutofindthem.Bytwosuntilweleave.Understood?”Itwasthelaststraw.Withdeath inmy soul, Iwent off to look formy damned gun. Iwas on the point of collapse from hunger,exhaustion,cold,andGodknowswhatelse.Iwouldcertainlyneverhavethestrengthtospendthenightsloggingthroughthathorriblesnow,whosefrozencrustcoveredmorethantwofeetofwhitepower,intowhich I sank over the tops ofmy boots. I was filled with rage which I couldn’t express. Exhaustionpreventedreaction.IreturnedtomycompanionsinmisfortuneasbestIcould.Thefeldwebeldecidedthatthefellowwhowaspushingfiftyandmyselfshouldtakethefirstpatrol.

“We’llrelieveyouintwohours,whichwillbeeasierforyou.”Ihaveneverunderstoodwhy,butIhadthedistinctimpressionthatthemiserablecurhadpurposely

putmewiththeoldman.Nodoubthepreferredtheotherfellowasacompanion-twenty-fiveyearsoldandstronglybuilt-toascrawnyseventeenoranoldman.Istartedoffwithmyfellowsufferer,convincedthatwewereavulnerablecombination.AfterthefirstfewstepsItripped,andfelldownfulllengthontothesnow,scrapingmyhandsagainstthehard,icycrust.AsIwaspullingmyselfup,Iwasscarcelyabletocontainaparoxysmoftears.

Theoldmanwasadecentsort:hetooseemedtohavehadaboutenough.“Didyouhurtyourself?”heaskedinapaternaltone.“Merde,”Ireplied.Hesaidnothing.Pullinghiscollar a littlehigheragainsthishead,he letmeget in frontofhim. I

didn’treallyknowwhereweweresupposedtobegoing,butthatwasunimportant.WhatIknewbeyondadoubtwasthatIwoulddoublebackassoonastheblackmassoftheconvoywasoutofsight,anddespitemyexhaustionImanagedtoputaconsiderabledistancebetweenmyselfandtheoldman.Imovedforwardnervously,breathingaslittleaspossible,astheicyairburnedmynose.ButafteramomentIcouldn’tgoon.Mykneestrembled,andIdissolvedintears.Icouldnolongergraspanythingthatwashappeningtome.Icouldseeclearly inmymind’seyeFrance,andmyfamily,and thegamesIused toplaywithmyfriendsandmyMeccanoset.WhatwasIdoinghere?Icanremembercryingoutbetweenburstsofsobs:“I’mtooyoungtobeasoldier.”

Idon’tknowwhetherornotmycompanionwassurprisedbymyconfusion.Whenhecaughtupwithmehecontentedhimselfwithsaying:

“Youwalktooquickly,youngfellow.YoumustforgivemeifIcan’tkeepupwithyou.Ishouldn’tevenbeasoldier.Iwasretiredbeforethewar.Butsixmonthsagotheycalledmeupanyway.Theyneedeveryonetheycanget,youknow.Anyway,let’shopewegethomeagainsafely.”

AsIdidn’tunderstandverymuchaboutthetimes,andneededsomeonetoblame,IbegantoattacktheRussians:“Andallofthisonaccountofthosebastards!ThefirstoneImeethashadit!”

However, Iwasn’t able to forget the events of the afternoon. The partisan and his execution hadoverwhelmedme.Thepooroldmanlookedatmeinbewilderment.Hemusthavewonderedwhetherhewasinvolvedwithapartyfanaticorasecurityagent.

“Yes,”hesaidinacarefullyveiledtone.“They’recertainlymakingussweat.Itwouldbebettertoletthemsettleitamongthemselves.Theywon’tstayBolshevikforlong.Andintheend,anyway,it’snoneofourbusiness.”

“And Stalingrad!We certainly have to supply the Sixth Army!My uncle is there! They must behavingatoughtime.”

“Ofcoursethey’rehavingatoughtime.Wedon’tknoweverything.FinishingoffZhukovisn’tgoingtobeeasy.”

“Zhukovwillquit,thewayhedidatKharkovandZhitomir.Thiswon’tbethefirsttimeGeneralvonPaulusmadehimrun.”

Hesaidnothing.Aswe livedwithoutmuch information fromtheadvancedfront, theconversationcametoahalt.IcertainlyneverguessedthatthedoomofStalingradwasalreadysealed;thatthesoldiersoftheSixthArmyhadgivenuphopeandwerefightinginhorribleconditions,withheroictenacity.

Theskywascoveredwithstars.InthemoonlightIwasabletoseethelittlestudent’swatchstrappedonmywrist,asouvenirofmycertificatd’etudesinFrance.Timeseemedtobestandingstill,andthosetwohoursdragged likecenturies.Wewalkedslowly,watching the tipsofourbootssink into thesnowwithevery step.Therewasnowind,but thecold,whichwasgrowing increasingly severe,piercedusthroughandthrough.

Fortwohoursatatime,throughoutthataccursednight,weshiveredinthisway.Betweeneachtourofduty,Iwasabletosnatchabriefsleep.Thefirstglimmersoflight,whichfoundmeshovelingsnow,fellonafacecreasedwithexhaustion.

Withdawn, thecoldgrewevenmore intense.Thewoolengloveswehadbeen issuedwerewornthrough,andourfrostbittenhandswerewrappedinrags,orinourextrapairsofsocks.Butinspiteoftheexercise of shoveling the cold was no longer bearable.We slapped our hands against our sides andstampedour feet to keepour chilled bloodmoving.The captain, in amoment of compassion, orderedsomeersatzcoffeepreparedandservedtousboilinghot.Thiswasdoublywelcomebecauseforbreakfastthatmorningwehadbeengivennothingbutaportioneachof frozenwhitecheese.Thecorporalat thecanteentoldusthatthethermometeroutsidehistruckreadtwenty-fourdegreesbelowzero.

I don’t remember exactly how much longer this journey took. The days which followed haveremainedinmymemorylikeafrozennightmare.Thetemperaturevariedbetweenfifteenandtwenty-five

below zero. Therewas a horrifying day ofwindwhen, despite all of the orders and threats fromourofficers,weabandonedourshovelsandtookshelterbehindthetrucks.Onthatdaythetemperaturefelltothirty-fivedegreesbelowzero,andIthoughtIwouldsurelydie.Nothingcouldwarmus.Weurinatedintoournumbedhandstowarmthem,and,hopefully,tocauterizethegapingcracksinourfingers.

Four of ourmen,whowere seriously ill, suffering frompulmonary andbronchial pneumonia, laygroaning inmakeshiftbeds setup inoneof the trucks.Therewereonly twomedicalorderlies forourcompany,andtherewasn’tmuchtheycoulddo.Inadditiontotheseseriousillnesses,therewereatleastfortycasesoffrostbite.Somemenhadpatchesofskinontheendsoftheirnoseswhichhadbeenfrozenandhadbecomeinfected.Similarinfectionwascommoninthefoldsoftheeyelids,aroundtheears,andparticularlyonthehands.Imyselfwasnotseriouslyaffected,buteachmovementofmyfingersopenedandcloseddeepcrevices,whichoozedblood.AtmomentsthepainwassointensethatIfeltsickatmystomach. At moments my despair was so intense that I broke down in tears, but as everyone waspreoccupiedwithhisowntroubles,noonepaidmuchattention.

Twice,Iwenttothecanteentruck,whichdoubledastheinfirmary,tohavemyhandswashedin9o-degreealcohol.Thisproducedparoxysmsofpainwhichmademecryaloud,butafterwardmyhandsfeltwarmforafewminutes.

Ourinadequatedietcontributedtoourdesperation.FromMinsk,ourpointofdeparture,toKiev,thefirststop,wasadistanceofabout250miles.Withallthedifficultiesoftheroutetakenintoconsideration,the authorities had given us food for five days. In fact, we required eight days, which obliged us toconsumesomeoftherationsintendedforthefront.Inaddition,wehadtoabandonthreeofthethirty-eightvehiclesinourgroupbecauseofmechanicalfailure,destroyingthemalongwiththeircargoes,sothattheywouldn’tfallintothehandsofthepartisans.Ofthefourmenwhowereseriouslyill,twohaddied.Manyotherssufferedfromfrostbite,andafewhadtohavefrozenhandsorfeetamputated.

Three days before we reached Kiev, we crossed what must once have been the Russian line ofdefense.Wedrove forhours througha landscape litteredwith thecarcassesof tanks, trucks,guns, andaircraft, gutted and burned, a scattering of junkwhich stretched as far as the eye could see.Here andthere,crossesorstakesmarkedthehastyburialofthethousandsofGermanandRussiansoldierswhohadfallenonthisplain.

Infact,manymoreRussiansthanGermanshadbeenkilled.However, insofaraswaspossible, thesoldiersoftheReichweregivendecentburials,whileeachorthodoxemblemmarkedthegraveoftenortwelveSovietsoldiers.

Ourjourneyacrossthisboneyardnaturallydidnotmakeusfeelanywarmer.Thehugeshellholes,whichwehadtofillinasbestwecould,madeitparticularlydifficult.

Finally, our convoy arrived atKiev.This handsomecityhadnot sufferedmuchdamage.TheRedArmyhadtriedtostoptheWehrmachtoutsidethetown,inthezonewehadpassedthrough.WhentheyhadnolongerbeenabletowithstandGermanpressure,theyhadpreferredtowithdrawtotheothersideofthecity, to spare it the kind of destructionMinsk had suffered.Kievwas our first stop, halfway betweenMinskandKharkov.Ourultimatedestination,Stalingrad,wasstillmorethansixhundredmilesaway.

Kievwasanimportantstrategiccenter,whereunitscomingfromPolandandRumaniaregroupedandmade ready for the offensivewhichwould push on to theCaucasus and theCaspian Sea. To an evengreaterdegreethanMinsk,thecityswarmedwithsoldiersandmilitaryvehicles,withthedifferencethatheretherewasaperceptibleatmosphereofalert.

Our group entered the outlying zone of the city, and halted until further orders from theKommandantur.

Onceagainwefoundourselveswalkingonasnow-coveredroadwayasslickandfirmlypackedasaski run.We thoughtwe had reached the end of our troubles. Everyonewas anticipating the arrival oforderswhich,wefeltcertain,woulddirectustoournewlodgings.

Weweresentfirstofalltothehygieniccenter,whichwasextremelywelcomeasthecoldhadmadeeventhemostcursorywashingimpossible.Wewerealldisgustinglydirtyandcoveredwithvermin.

Thosewithserious injurieswerehospitalized-acategory towhichonlysevenmenwereadmitted.Foreveryoneelse,thejourneycontinued:wespentonlysevenhoursinKiev.

As we left the remarkably well-organized sanitary service, our group was ordered to stand atattentiononthesnow-coveredesplanadeinfrontofthebuilding.AhauptmannarrivedathighspeedinaVolkswagen.Heturnedtowardusanddeliveredashortspeechwithoutgettingoutofthecar.

“Soldiers!Germans!Convoytroops!Atthishour,whentheconquestsoftheReichextendacrossavastterritory,theFatherlanddependsonyoutoassurethevictoryofourarmsbyyourdevotion.Itisyourresponsibilitytohastenthepaceatwhichessentialsuppliesreachourfightingtroops.Thehourhascomeforyoutoperformyourdutyonthefrontyouknowsowell-theroad,fraughtwithathousandperilsandhardships,uponwhichyouhavealreadyexpendedsuchprodigiousenergies.Fromourfactories,whereourworkers aredrawingon all their strength to forge thenecessaryweapons, throughyour exhaustingjourney toward our heroic combatants, no one is allowed amoment’s respite so long as anyGermansoldier might suffer from a shortage of weapons, food, or clothing. The nation is drawing on all itsstrengthtoinsurethatoursoldiersatthefrontreceivewhattheyrequireandarethusabletoretaintheirenthusiasmandconfidenceinoursolidarity.Notoneofushastherighttoflinchorfalterinthefaceofmomentary discouragement. No one has the right to doubt the heroism daily confirmed by our freshvictories.Weallhavetobear thesamesufferings,anddealingwith themasaunifiedgroupis thebestwayofsurmountingthem.Neverforgetthatthenationowesyoueverything,andthatinreturnitexpectseverythingofyou,uptoandincludingthesupremesacrifice.Youmustlearntosupportsufferingwithoutcomplaint,becauseyouareGerman.HeilHitler!”

“HeilHitler!”weansweredinunison.Thehauptmannclearedhis throatandcontinuedinalesstheatrical tone:“Youwillmakeupafull

group andwill rejoin the 124th and the 125th at the edge of town, on theRollbahn toKharkov.Yourformation will be accompanied by a section of motorized combat troops belonging to PanzerdivisionStulpnagel.Theywillprotectyourconvoyfromtheterroristswhowill tryto impedeyouradvance.Asyouwillsee,theReichismakingeveryefforttofacilitateyourtask.”

Hesaluted,andhisorderlyimmediatelyshiftedintogear.Wejoinedthe twoothersectionsofourcompanyat theselectedplace toformthe19thKompanie

Rollbahn,underKommandantUltraner.MyfirstthoughtwasthatnowIwouldsurelyrunintomyfriendsfrom training camp, if they hadn’t been transferred or killed. I didn’t knowwhether they’d leftMinskbeforeorafterus,butinfactourold19thhadbeenre-formed.

Wenowpossessedarollingkitchenwhichcouldserveushotmeals.Thismadeagreatdifferencetous. Immediately before our departure we were served a large hot meal, which produced an almostunbelievablesenseofwell-being,andraisedourspiritstoaremarkabledegree.Thecoldseemedtohavesettled at about four degrees below zero,whichwas an improvement. But thenwe had just taken hotshowersandchangedourclothes.

IhadnotroublefindingHals,whoseexuberantgesturesIrecognizedeasily.“Well,whatdoyouthinkoftheweather,youngone?Andoftherestaurant,hein?It’stendayssince

I’veswallowedanythinghot.Wethoughtwe’ddieofcoldonthatdamnedtrain.”“Youwereonatrain!Ifthat’snotluck…”“Luck!Youcantalk…Youshouldhavebeentherewhenthelocomotiveblewup.Itmadeacloudof

steamat leastahundredyardshigh.Fourof the fellowswerekilledandsevenwounded.Morvanwaswoundedwhilewewerecleaningupthemess.Itwentonlikethatforfivedays.Iwaswithapatrolthatwentaftersometerrorists.Wecaughttwoofthemhidinginakolkhoz.*(Collectivefarm).

Oneofthepeasantsthey’drobbedputusontheirtrail,andafterwardinvitedustohisplaceandgave

usaregularfeast.”Iwastednotimeintellinghimmyadventures;talkingthiswaymadeusbothfeelbetter.Wehadjust

runintoLensenandOlensheim.Oursenseofhappinessandreliefatmeetingagainwassogreatthatquitespontaneouslywe grabbed each other by the shoulders andmimed an exaggerated polonaise, shoutingwithlaughter.Someoftheoldermenstaredatusinastonishment,unabletoseeanyreasonforthisburstofgaiety,soinconsistentwiththegrayandicyatmosphere.

“Where’sFahrstein?”Iasked.“Ouf,”roaredLensen,stilllaughing.“He’ssnugandwarminhistruck.Hesprainedhisankle,and

it’ssoswollenhecan’ttakehisbootoff,sohe’swaitingforittodeflate.”“He’smakingthemostofit,”Halsremarked.“IfIcarriedonlikethateverytimeIturnedmyankle

…”Ourconversationwasinterruptedbytheorderfordeparture,andwereturnedtoourposts.Knowing

thatmy friendswere there,withonlya few trucksbetweenus,mademe feelagreatdealbetter,and Ialmostforgotthateachturnofthewheelswastakingmeclosertothefront.Itwasstillsofaraway.Weweretravelingonbadroadscoveredwithsnowandice.Oneitherside,awallofsnowthrownbackbyroad-clearingoperationshidthecountryside.Throughtheoccasionalgapswewereabletoseetracesoftheterriblefightingwhichhadoverrunthispartofthecountrytheyearbefore.Thehastilypatchedroadwassoroughthatwehadtocrawlthroughseveralhundredmilesofthisruinedcountryside.

ThetroopsofvonWichs,Guderian,vonReichenauandvonStulpnagelhadwrenchedthisterritoryfrom the Soviets after weeks of heavy fighting, and held several hundreds of thousands of prisonersbetweenKievandKharkov.TheamountofRussianwarmaterielstrewnaboutunderthesnowmademewonderhowtheycouldpossiblyhavemuchleft.

Risingtemperaturesbroughtfreshsnowfallswhichmadeitnecessaryforustobringoutourshovelsagain.Fortunately,asectionofthearmoredcolumnwhichwassupposedtoaccompanyusjoinedustwodayslater.Wewereabletoattachfourorfivetruckstothebackofatanksothat,withtheirenginesgoing,thetruckswereabletomanageaslipping,slidingadvancedespitethesnowandice.

However,thelowcloudssoonvanished,leavingapalebluesky.Thethermometerplungedsharply,andwewerecaughtoncemorebyabitingcold,onthataccursedRussianplain.OccasionallyagroupofGermanairplaneswouldpassoverourcolumnwith throbbingengines.Wewavedwildlyat thepilots,who respondedbydipping theirwings.Higherup, squadronsof JU-52spassed slowlyover us, flyingeast.Ourhotmealsnolongerwarmedus,andfrostbitewaseatingintomyhandsonceagain.Fortunately,this timeourconvoyincludedadoctor.Each timewestopped toeat,we linedupbesidehis truck.Hecoated my hands with a greasy, curative ointment which I tried to keep on as long as possible as itreducedthepaininmycrackedskinandpreserveditfromthecold.Ikeptmyhandsburiedinthedepthsofmygiantovercoatpocketsunlessabsolutelyforcedtopullthemout,andthenIwasverycarefulnottorubofftheointmentagainsttheroughcloth.

Ispentlonghoursinthecabofathree-and-a-half-tonRenault,joltingfromruttorut.Fromtimetotimewehadtoremovethesnowwhichaccumulatedbetweenthemudguardandthetire,orhelpanothermachinewhichhadskiddedan