As dusk fell, I moved forward as ordered with my company. It was necessary to form a kind of second line behind the point where a breakthrough had been made. We dug our foxholes and the men fetched hay and straw so that the foxholes could be made warmer and softer. Though at that season the sun could still shine strongly by day, the nights were already getting cold. In the meantime, from the baggage-train we had received overcoats. We could not take off our overcoats during the day. Where could we infantrymen have put them! Therefore we were exposed, in the same clothing, to a difference in temperature of 20 degrees.
It must have been three kilometres to the main line of resistance. From the front line there rang out now and again the sound of artillery fire and the impact of shells as well as the sound of some infantry fire. Knee to knee I crouched with my runner in our two-man hole. We were freezing and could not get to sleep. At 10pm a battalion runner took me to the command post of the local unit, where our staff was already located. Freezing and swearing, I followed him.
Hauptmann Beyer had taken over command of a battalion of our sister regiment 461. So I was received by the new commander, Major Brauer. He had just come from Norway. He had taken part in the First World War, had no experience of the Eastern Front, and seemed anxious and awkward. In actual fact, the battalion was being run by the Adjutant, Leutnant Buksch. I was ordered to bring the company forward immediately in order to clean up the breakthrough area. It was about 220 metres wide and 100 metres deep, at the centre of which was a cemetery. With my company, and supported by three assault guns, I had to mount a frontal attack. From right and left assault troops of the 1st and 2nd companies were to move up the main trench. From 10.35pm to 10.40pm the artillery was to lay destructive fire on the area of the breakthrough. Then my company, with the assault guns, had to work its way forward as close as possible.
With a Leutnant of the unit in whose sector the breakthrough had taken place, I gave notice of my departure. The Leutnant went ahead in order to brief us. In ranks separated by intervals of five paces the company moved forward. I wanted to attack in two wedges. One was to be led by me, and the other by Geissler. That arrangement was necessary because in the darkness of the night I would not had been able to view the entire sector and so I relied on Geissler. Meanwhile, time had moved on, and from behind us the dull roaring of the assault guns could be heard. 300 metres separated us from the place where the breakthrough had taken place. It was the target of our attack. The Leutnant from the other company set off, after another handshake. He pointed me in the direction of the cemetery of Asowowo.
It was time to brief the section leaders. With lowered voices, as if the enemy were already in earshot, they passed on the orders. Then the barrage began. ‘Section by section’, that is, salvo by salvo, our heavy and light artillery struck where the cemetery must be. The assault guns rolled up with the grinding sound of their engines. We pulled in our heads and ducked under the trajectory of the howling shells. Then we pushed up to the place where the breakthrough had occurred. During the five minutes of our own barrage we had approached to within 100 metres. At the end of that time the enemy barrage began. We then lay in the hail of shells from their artillery, the Ratschbums and above all the mortars. The Russians fired one flare after the other.
The terrain, which until then had been in dull moonlight, was bathed in the distorting glare of magnesium. The men had already clustered like grapes around the assault guns. They believed that behind them they were safe from shrapnel and shot. But then it was a matter of taking cover and working our way forward, metre by metre, and from crater to crater. During the preparatory barrage by our heavy weapons we had got to within 100 metres. It seemed an eternity since the assault guns had stopped. The enemy defensive fire continued undiminished. The earth seemed to be being ploughed up by it. In the light of the flares could be seen the crosses, and the mounds of graves. Among them were figures like ghosts, who fired their machine-pistols upon us. They were the attackers. The high ‘barking’ of their fire again and again broke through the thunder of the heavy impacts.
In this inferno I was compelled to come to a decision. 50 metres still separated me from the cemetery. Our attack was still under way and the men were on the move. I did not know how many men there still were. My orders were to clean out the area of breakthrough. Only one last decisive leap separated me from my goal. Should I, this close to the goal, give the order to withdraw? That order would cost just as many sacrifices as the attack. I decided to carry on. It only needed one more dash forwards. I jumped up and cried ‘Hurrah’! Still shouting ‘Hurrah’! I sprang forwards without knowing how many of my comrades would follow my lead.
A stabbing pain in my body caused me to fall in the crater. 20 metres in front of me I had seen an enemy aiming at me with a machine-pistol. If his shot had not stopped me, I would certainly have run on like a madman. Then the Russian threw a hand-grenade after me. It exploded on the edge of the crater in which I was crouching. Earth crumbled down upon me. I had to go back, twisting and rolling. Then I raced and limped, bent and ducking, from crater to crater. I heard a piece of shrapnel whizz up. It tore my cheek open. It was already flying too slowly to be able to hurt me seriously. My right eye could have copped it, but the splinter penetrated the flesh a little bit below.
The attack had been repulsed and the enemy were firing no more flares. In the pale moonlight while I jumped from crater to crater I kept my eyes open for the remnants of my company. As well as dead men I saw wounded men curled up in craters or crawling back. In twos and threes some of them crouched under cover and joined together. ‘Herr Leutnant’, one of them called to me. I pressed my hand on my burning stomach and decided that I must only be slightly wounded. ‘Herr Leutnant, over here!’ I was called again. While I was listening for the voice and moving in its direction, I was brought down by another bullet. I slid into the nearest crater. Wailing voices were calling for the medics. The enemy was still maintaining barrage fire. I had no time to check on my third wound. I only felt relieved that it too could not be serious.
As I pressed myself against the edge of the crater, a mortar shell burst very close to my cover. A man dived into the crater howling with pain. His voice I recognised as that of the man who was crying out earlier, an old Obergefreiter. ‘I’ve lost my hand’, he groaned. I saw it dangling in his glove. Groaning, he asked me to open his belt buckle. My hand felt over his body. As I was groping for the buckle, I was seized with horror. I felt the warm soft flesh of his intestines. My hand went into his belly. It was torn open across the width of his body. ‘I’ll go and fetch the medic’, I said to him, knowing he was beyond help. But I could not just go and leave him to die alone. After all, he had followed my orders.
Minutes passed. It seemed like an eternity, although it was not long after midnight. The seriously wounded Obergefreiter had become still and his breath was coming in gasps. I saw the white of his eyes glistening and felt his sound hand feeling for mine. Then a sigh was wrung out of the dying man. ‘Ah, Herr Leutnant’, he said. His head fell to one side. Again, I was shaken by a feeling of horror. Finally, I made off from crater to crater.