STATE SECRETARY FOR THE RUSSIAN PROTECTOR IN THINGS AND IN MORAVA, PRAGUE, inv. 2084, sig. 109-7/91

Page 79

English Translation

Here are Vikings! The moon stands high in the sky and lets the snow sparkle in millions of crystals in front of us in the no-man's land. The frozen river runs as a silver ice band before us. The stars sparkle above us in the infinity of the eastern winter sky; it is a strange feeling that here, several thousand kilometers from the Nordic homeland, we can look at exactly the same stars that we have been looking at — how long ago — in the high, clear nights above our native Denmark. Our thoughts wander over the sparkling bridge of the firmament home, to our loved ones. Three o'clock at night. For a few hours we didn't hear a shot, the rest really does us good again; but now to the right of us is a machine gun. At the complete silence of the frost-clear night we can hear almost every movement of the Bolsheviks over there; in the small bush group opposite us we hear branches crack under the steps of the Soviets. This might indicate that an opposing replacement is there in the front in the holes. Already a sheaf of our machine gun sweeps over to the bushes. A few gunshots come from the opponent in response; then rest comes again ... But after a short time we hear a sound that we know enough; we pull in the heads: shots of enemy grenade launchers. A quiet noise drives through the air — now the impacts follow. But fortunately the Soviets shoot too short, but then their impacts lie better, with a strange buzz the splinters fly over us. "So, gentlemen, now we want to bring the cumin to other thoughts..." He attacks the telex, calls his battalion and gives the location of the enemy grenades with a precise target address. A few minutes later we hear the shootings of our own batteries — a whistling whistle fills the air, and then we see impact on impact over there, red-yellow fire splashes up; the enemy grenade throwers are now guilty of the answer. Shortly thereafter a message alerts us: "Finde Spicing Group! The Bolsheviks have now disappeared from the section to the left of us after they had crawled out on the frozen river before. But the river is enclosed by high dunes and therefore only partially seen by us; the Soviet scouts can thus take good cover in this river sink. And yet it is necessary to snap it. The complication for this company is that the moon has shrouded behind thick snow clouds.