15. Februar 1944
My rest period with the battalion has come to an end again. Second Lieutenant Baumann has also been shot in the head. I have to take over the 10th company. So once again I pack my laundry bag and go into the trench. This time I have to take my own messenger with me. The alarm unit had enough people so I could leave it up there. But now he has to go with me, because the 10th company has shrunk considerably and needs every man.
As I already know this section of the company and its dangers well enough, hopefully I’ll be spared the fate of my two predecessors. Only something else makes my situation considerably more difficult: the alarm unit was 140 men strong. The 10th company, however, only has 45 men left. And with these 45 men I have to defend a front section of 1700 metres![1] This means that on average there is a double post every 80 metres. However, as there are 4 to 6 men in the machine gun positions, the gaps between the individual post and machine gun positions are actually around a hundred metres on average. In order to keep these gaps more or less under control, I have additional trench patrols moving back and forth between the posts at night. This is again an additional burden for the plagued Landsers, but it is vital. On top of that, the nights are pitch dark at the moment. If the Russians wanted to, they could march through here at night with whole battalions without us noticing. Fortunately, he doesn’t do that, but he comes sneaking up in small groups and combat patrols. Even I no longer walk through the trench alone when I check the posts at night.
Today our infantry guns and an light field howitzer battery (10 cm) are firing into their barrage areas in front of our trench. Boy, oh boy, do they smash close to our line. The hits are 20 to 30 metres in front of our trench, spot on. It’s hissing in shortly and furiously, and then the explosion rips the air so hard it takes your breath away. It’s really a great reassurance for us to know that there is still someone watching over us back there.
This night a group of Red Army soldiers sneaked through the neighbouring company’s lines under cover of darkness and hid in a small wood in the hinterland. In the morning, they suddenly began firing at the German line from behind. But they were quickly wiped out.
But if the Russian uses this infiltration tactic, which he is a master of, on a larger scale here, it could be unpleasant for us. Elsewhere, he has already crept through our lines night after night in small groups, gathering in a forest in the hinterland until he had reached company strength within a week. Then he ambushed our supply vehicles and attacked our front from behind. Our soldiers are sensitive to enemies in the rear. It makes him nervous. This way of fighting is probably alien to our nature and, unlike the Russians, we have never practised it. Be that as it may, as far as we’re concerned, we can’t prevent infiltration at all with this thinly manned front and the pitch-black nights.
That we are always so few! They always storm against our thin lines in multiple, overwhelming superiority. And often enough they still don’t make it! Their soldiers are fresh because they still have masses of reserves. We are always the same exhausted bunch because we hardly get any replacements. They have enviably little luggage (a small bag on their back) and are also largely motorised. We carry far too much luggage and equipment and have to walk almost all the way. They have masses of tanks, artillery and ammunition. Our artillery is scrimping on every shot because supplies are only arriving in dribs and drabs. The reasons are clear. The Reds have the support of the damned Americans, who supply their Bolshevik friends with everything they need out of their abundance. Our production facilities are being bombed and our supply routes disturbed by partisans. If only we could attack with such superiority just once! If the balance of power were 1:1 or if we were facing the Soviet Union alone, we would have already chased them into the Pacific.[2] For four years, the Red Army of this giant empire has been fighting us on its only front. But we are only here with part of our armed forces, because we have occupied almost all of Europe and still have an army in North Africa. What an unequal battle. And they can’t do it alone. America and auxiliary troops from all over the world have to help them. And if we do have to retreat now, it’s not the fault of the German front-line soldier. This one has not failed. This one has defied the whole world for four years. No other army in the world has ever done that.
Night falls. The food haulers are back. The sergeant major came with them today. I have given the necessary signatures and am now sitting at the table chatting with the sergeant major. But he doesn’t stay for much longer, packs up his folder and says goodbye. I finish my interrupted meal. The messenger has already finished and scrapes the last drops from his mess kit.
Suddenly shouts of “Oorraa(y)” and short bursts of fire. I rush out, the messenger behind me. A light mist lies over the landscape. A flare goes up. In its dim light, I recognise an upright figure on the crest of the small hill on the right. Another sub-machine gun rattles. Short shouts and the detonation of hand grenades intermingle. That’s in my trench! Now it’s quiet again. I quickly pull together a few sentries, walk towards the battle site and close off the trench at a bend. We stand and listen into the darkness. Not a sound can be heard. The fog muffles all sounds. An eerie tension hangs over the trench. A soft thump. A flare rises with a soft hiss. Its faint, yellow glow illuminates the surroundings. I see no movement, but the situation needs to be clarified. I creep carefully from one bend in the trench to the next, the sub-machine gun ready to fire in my hands. Behind me, the men follow with hand grenades ready to throw. We call out, and when no one answers, the grenades fly over the corner of the trench past the next bend. And while they explode with a muffled bang, I jump a section further to the next bend in the trench. Flare up! Extreme caution is required. The Russian also has a special technique for trench warfare. He builds so-called “foxholes”, i.e. he burrows sideways into the trench walls. If you then shoot along the trench, you don’t hit them at all.
There doesn’t seem to be any more Ivan in the trench. Nevertheless, we work our way forwards, shooting and throwing. Only someone tired of life would simply run through the trench.
There’s someone calling! One of our sentries. The connection is re-established, the trench is clear of the enemy. The Ivan is gone as quickly as he appeared. We reach the sentry and before I can ask him, he reports: “Two men are missing! The sergeant major is also away!” Then the sentry reports: He saw the sergeant major coming across the field towards his position. The trench makes an almost right-angled bend here, which the sergeant major wanted to cut off. Suddenly there was a crash and hiss of bullets around the post. The sentry instinctively jumped to his machine-gun position and only just saw the sergeant major jump into the trench. But the Russians were already in there. The sergeant major must have literally jumped into their arms. Apparently after that they retreated immediately.
Poor chap. The sergeant major had previously earned the EK I as a platoon leader. Nothing had happened to him in that time. Then he became a sergeant major and only came forward for a short time every other day. And that’s when it struck him! Twenty minutes ago he was still sitting in my dugout, now he’s sitting over there. Barely a hundred metres away the entire German front is standing and can’t help him!
The bitter incident is over. The sentries take up their positions again. I place a guard reinforcement at the communication trench that connects our trench with the Russian one on the other side. I don’t know how this connecting trench came about. It is now wired and secured by a double sentry. To reassure the men, I go back to all the posts, talk to them and then return to my bunker.
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- ↑ The entire section from river Ingulez to the regiment’s former right border at the kurgan (Hill 140.2) was only 2000 metres. The author hypothesises that this section, where incidentally, in January, two battalions had been deployed, was still manned by three companies at the beginning of February, but that after the withdrawal of the alarm company, the 10th now had to hold a section twice as wide as before.
- ↑ Some figures on the force ratio Wehrmacht - Red Army
In October 1943, the Red Army had double or triple the number of men and material.
The ratio of soldiers was 1:2.2 in favour of the Soviets tanks 1:3.2 artillery pieces 1:2.6 In addition, the Russians have far more large-calibre mortars than we do and their infantry have numerous submachine guns and automatic rifles, while our soldiers have to reload their rifles after every shot. The Russians have vast amounts of ammunition for all weapons, but we have to be stingy with every shot.
(In the original as a footnote on p. 45b with the remark “belongs to p. 180 centre”, i.e. here. - The figures are apparently taken from a list of Abteilung Fremde Heere Ost dated 17 October 1943 in KTB OKH T-78 Roll 677 Frame 707)
- ↑ Base: situation map in KTB AOK 6, NARA T-312 Roll 1468 Frame 000311