We were now a much smaller group. Probably the order had been given not to present the Russians with such a large attractive target and the forces had been split up to make their way separately to Lask. Due to our criss-cross driving we must have still been some ten miles north of Lask. Over the last hour we had had no contact with any Russian units and our group moved into the cover of a wood to give the marching units a short rest.
My NCO instructed me to go to the driver of our supplies truck to help him on a short mission. As soon as I got into the cab beside the driver, Gerhard Wilkens, he drove off quickly and told me that we were headed for village a few miles further north. A motor-cycle despatch rider had brought the information that we could pick up a dozen jerrycans of fuel from a small depot that was being cleared out. The whole job should not take much more than twenty minutes, but we would need to hurry before more Russians turned up.
We had no trouble getting there and we got our fuel alright. It was when we were racing back in the gathering dusk that disaster overtook us. A sudden skid sent the truck sliding sideways along the road and despite Wilkens’ valiant attempts to correct the skid we ended up bruised and shaken with the truck lying on its side in a field. There was absolutely nothing we could do about the truck so, cursing our bad luck, we picked up our rifles and a road map in the cab and started off on a race against time.
After less than half an hour’s hurried walking our hopes were dashed when we saw a line of Russian armoured troop-carriers crossing our path ahead of us and coming to a stop. In an instant we were off the track and lying flat on the freezing ground as we waited to see what would happen next. It was unlikely that we would be seen unless the Russians had powerful night-glasses, but there was no point in taking any chances. Our best bet was to wait till it got darker and do a detour if the Russians were still there. However, this was not our lucky day. As I lay there with the cold beginning to bite into my body, I heard Russian T-34 and Stalin tanks approach from our left side and head toward the group of armoured carriers. Again we had to await developments, before deciding on our next move.
A short while later the whole group drove off in a westerly direction. After waiting a few moments, Wilkens and I jumped up and set off at a jog-trot. It was some time before we arrived breathless at the wood where we had left our mates, but now there was no trace of them. Looking at our watches we were horrified to realise that almost two hours had passed since we had set off in the truck. It was too long for our group to have waited and they could not have scoured the countryside in search of us. They had no option but to move on and leave us behind.
It was now pitch dark and beginning to snow; we were on our own without food and only our rifles to protect us. Already we could consider ourselves to be behind the Russian lines. Unless we managed to get to Lask by the early hours of the next morning our chances of staying alive were going to be very slim indeed.
14
A BRUSH WITH PARTISANS
We now had to think clearly. We were in trouble and would be foolish to make an impulsive decision. Fortunately, Wilkens had the map and so we struck a few matches and began to study it. Luck had not deserted us because we discovered that there was a country road nearby leading to Lask which was about 10 miles away and almost exactly due south. Even if the night remained overcast and no stars were visible, we would still have the road to guide us.
Another stroke of luck was that a main railway line ran in an east-west direction north of Lask. If we had to leave the road during the night for any reason, and lost our bearings, we could still hope to see the railway once daylight broke, and use it to find our way to Lask. But was it a good idea to go there at all, since the Russians could already be in possession of the town? Alternatively, we could head due west on the basis of trying to get as far away as possible from the advancing Russian troops. But they might be carrying out a pincer movement around Lask on the north side, in which case we would be keeping inside Russian-held territory.
We had to think of something better than that. In the end we agreed that we would head straight for Lask, but we would not approach the town. As soon as we got to the railway line, we would head west and away from the town. After that we would make our way to Lask in a wide, circuitous movement. With luck we might run into some German units and find out whether Lask was still in German hands and whether parts of the Division Göring had already passed that way. There was, of course, one hazard we could come across and that was partisans. We knew that they frequently made use of abandoned homesteads as hideouts from which they attacked German soldiers on the retreat, especially if they were in small splinter-groups rather than in fully-armed combat units.
Having decided on our course of action, we set off while we were still warm from our recent exertions. Unfortunately, I had a slight niggling worry about Wilkens. He would not have been my choice of a companion if I thought that a sticky situation might arise. Wilkens was about five years older than I and was a good all-round soldier. He was extremely fit and strong, but what bothered me about him was his slight tendency to grumble. It may sound pettish to have been critical of such a normal human failing, but if we landed in a tight corner the outcome could well hinge on a small point like this.
It was six o’clock in the evening when we started on our march. On the basis of an estimated total distance of some twenty miles, including detours, it would be practical to allow about eight hours for walking plus time taken for rests, but not allowing for major problems. Finding the road to Lask was easy enough, but then it began to snow quite heavily. Our plan had been to walk near the road, but now there was the danger of losing sight of it as a thick layer of snow began to cover the landscape. We had to risk walking on the road, but decided to keep well to one side to lessen the risk of being seen.
Soon the snowfall became lighter and the sky was less overcast, allowing the moon to throw a dim light over the landscape. I found there was something refreshing in our movement along the road and across the Polish countryside. The events of the day had had a draining effect on me, so I now relished the freedom of walking in the cool night air and hearing the soft crunch of fresh snow under my feet. The fact that I had been sitting and standing around a lot in the cold over the last few days meant that my muscles needed some vigorous activity. Most of the exercise I had been getting in the past was on guard duty which meant doing just enough pacing to and fro to keep reasonably warm.
Occasionally we came across small farms beside the road, so we had to take to the fields on the opposite side of the road to avoid being seen. There was no real danger of injury walking through fields in the near darkness because previous falls of snow had turned into a frozen crust on the ground and covered small holes that could have given us a twisted ankle. Occasionally, there were stretches when it was safe for us to raise our voices to comfortably talk with each other for short spells at a time.
After walking for an hour we were startled by suddenly hearing what sounded like voices ahead of us. The sound of our steps had been muffled by the snow, so it was unlikely that we had been detected. Stopping instantly, we strained our ears to try to catch further sounds in the hope of discovering whether we had come across fellow Germans. We found it impossible to tell because the sounds became more indistinct without moving further from us and then petered out altogether. Perhaps it had just been some nocturnal animal we had heard, the sound of which had been exaggerated or distorted by our stretched senses in the spooky lighting. After waiting for about ten minutes we decided to move on, but we made a wide detour on the down-wind side of the road. All went well and we soon recovered from our shock without knowing how real the suspected danger had been.