But the most shattering thing about the picture was the fact that individual German soldiers were running away in front of the assaulting Red Army troops. They were wobbling with exhaustion, without weapons and equipment, plainly at the end of their strength. But we had to fire, even at the risk of our comrades thinking that we were firing at them. So I carefully took aim at the Russians storming up behind them. They had in the meantime approached to within 100 metres of us. In the feeling of desperation that there was no way that we could escape from that dire position, other than dead or as prisoners, an uncanny calm came over me.
As I had learned as a recruit in our much vilified drill, I took aim and fired, disappeared behind the parapet after firing, then quick as a flash popped up again a little to one side and got the next enemy in the sights of my Sturmgewehr. I succeeded in hitting enemy officers and machine-gunners. They were clearly recognisable, especially the officers, by the arm movements with which they accompanied their already audible orders. Thus, as one after the other fell, hit by my bullets, I was seized by a triumphant savage pleasure and by the hope of escaping once more. I watched one of the men I shot, stepping on persistently with his head lowered. Then, he was hit by my bullet. Slowly he struck his chest with his hand and finally fell forward. That picture will never leave me as long as I live.
The miracle happened. The targeted fire from my rifle, and those of the runners, brought the attack to a standstill. The Red Army troops went to ground. Then, pursued by our bullets, they drew back far to the rear and sought to connect up again to the forces on their right. We had lost our connections both to the right and to the left because the Russians had already pushed forward a long way, Meanwhile, my platoons had left the trench. They gathered in a line, one man behind another, in the secondary trench leading to the command post. I gave orders immediately to go back into position. There was no more immediate danger just then, for the very reason that the enemy was not at all concerned about us. However, the longer-term situation seemed hopeless. Sooner or later we would certainly fall into enemy hands.
I was still considering how we could get out of that wretched situation when, on the right from the sector of the 3rd Battalion infantry fire could be heard. It could mean nothing other than that our battalion had held its position. It must therefore be possible to connect up to the 3rd Battalion via the abandoned sector of the 2nd Company. There was no longer any wireless contact with our own battalion. Even the advanced observers had evidently been able to withdraw in time. So I had to make the decision to remain in the position or to connect up on the right to the 3rd Battalion.
I decided on the latter course because it seemed to me to be unlikely that the position could be held. It could also be assumed that orders would be given during the night to evacuate the main line of resistance, insofar as it was still occupied by our people. In the light of that it seemed unimportant from which point the company should begin its withdrawal. Since the waves of the enemy had rolled past us on the right and on the left, I gave orders to withdraw along the main trench to the right towards the 3rd Battalion. The Oberfähnrich took the lead and I myself remained at the rear. Like the captain of a sinking ship, I was the last to leave my company sector.
An enemy reserve company spotted our withdrawal, changed its direction and made moves to attack us. A particularly dashing group was storming up at a run outside the trenches while my company was withdrawing hurriedly along the trench to the right. To make the withdrawal easier, I formed a rearguard with a machine-gun and the two runners. With care I picked out again the nearest of the attackers. When they felt our resistance, they left off their pursuit. It was doubtless not part of their immediate task.
Eventually there only remained a short length of trench to overcome, in which there were Russians. We managed it with a few shouts and a short Huura! It was easy because for the most part they were wounded and the group had no leader. We even took prisoner some slightly wounded troops and chased others away. Those who were seriously wounded we left alone. Soon we had connected up with the 3rd Battalion. The men took a breath, and I went to the battalion command post. The commander, Hauptmann Dolansky, greeted me with words of recognition for our achievement. He immediately reported our arrival to the Regiment through the still intact telephone line. All that remained of my strength deserted me and I could almost have fallen asleep. I really had to ‘pull myself together’ so as not to give in to exhaustion.
Towards dusk a captive Russian captain was brought into the bunker. An active officer, about 25 years old, he said he had never been in action before. He had only arrived a few days previously with an entire division from Siberia. Through this and other information we slowly formed a proper idea of the inexhaustible reserves of the enemy.
The third line of trenches, to which we had had to withdraw during the night, ran along the back of a slope. In front of us was some woodland. On the right of it about 600 metres away there was a single farmhouse surrounded by fruit trees. As we could see from their movements, the Russians had already reached the edge of the woodland. Our trench was continuous and well constructed and excellently camouflaged with snow. We ourselves, as we moved into it from the edge of the woodland, had only noticed it when it was a few metres away.
We must have only settled down in it for an hour, when out of the woodland came two Russians who briskly and unconcernedly walked towards our trench. They had machine-pistols slung around their necks and were walking comfortably side by side almost as if they were whistling a little song. They came to within 200 metres, to within 100 metres and even nearer, without having noticed our trench in front of them. I quietly gave the order to let them approach and to take them prisoner. Fifty metres away from us they slowed their steps. Twenty German voices shouted Stoi! Whereupon they turned round and ran back, weaving as they went. In the hail of bullets they collapsed. I had not anticipated that. They must have been riddled with bullets.
Some time after that period of cruelty and bitterness there was movement at the farm. As a result of it the enemy artillery opened up and obediently dropped shells on us. I scanned the farm with my binoculars and discovered the advanced observers. There were two men with wireless sets, whose heads, shoulders and equipment could be seen behind low cover. I asked to be handed a rifle with a telescopic sight and for a runner to observe through the binoculars. Then I pushed myself carefully over the parapet of the trench and calmly took aim. There was a soft pressure as I fired. The observer’s head sank on to the cover and that of the second man disappeared. My runner saw through the binoculars the dead man being dragged back into cover. An hour later came the order to evacuate the position. In the meantime another Russian artillery observer had taken over directing the fire, which unfortunately was so accurate that we had some casualties.
A position as well constructed as the fourth line, in which we spent the night of 17 January, I had never seen. The bunkers were as much as three metres below ground level. The trench had been dug out to the height of a man. It was provided with secondary trenches, and in places with rails. The rifle positions and machine-gun nests were tactically in the correct places. It could not have been better in the trench warfare of the First World War. So this was the so-called Gauleiterstellung, which led over 1,000 kilometres along the eastern border of the Reich. It had been built in autumn 1944 by women and girls who were either volunteers or on war service, under the direction of officers who had been injured in the war. On the Oder, even Gisela had participated with pickaxe and shovel in that massive project.