Blood, Dust and Snow: Diaries of a Panzer Commander in Germany and on the Eastern Front by Robin Schafer

Author:Robin Schafer [Schafer, Robin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781784388300
Google: -KM3zwEACAAJ
Amazon: 1784388300
Publisher: Greenhill Books
Published: 2022-10-14T21:00:00+00:00

18.00, Saturday, 30 August 1941, Kurobizy

Up until now, the Russian artillery hasn’t fired on this place. Our troops must have captured Wirizy and thus probably forced the Red batteries to withdraw from there. Thank God! – that’s the only thing one can say. Yesterday, during the barrage, the infantry gun platoon of the riflemen suffered casualties, two killed and four severely wounded. And when I visited the communal smithy and the attached carpenter’s workshop this morning, the men there were busy making a coffin for one of the civilian dead. We slept quite well last night, here in the kitchen of the children’s home. We have been on alert, as it seemed that the Russians were planning another operation against our little village. Our sentries had reported that they had heard faint sounds, similar to that of Morse code; they had seen light signals in the distance, but they hadn’t seen a single living being.

Yesterday evening the weather was brilliant, but in the morning it started to rain again and up until now it has been miserable all day. I can make good use of the rubber boots which I have brought from Siwiosk. They are big, misshapen things with felt shafts, of the kind the farmers up here are wearing.

Up here one can, at least I think so, tell the women apart by their clothing. The Finnish girls and women seem to tie the ends of the headscarves back around their necks in a way which covers part of their chins as well. The Russian women, on the other hand, just like those in Poland, simply tie theirs in a knot below the chin.

This morning I was just sitting in my tank drinking coffee, when the mayor of the village walked past and was distributing flour. I sent Wrenger to take a look into the big barn, which had so far been locked. He returned and reported that the barn was more or less empty and only contained several radio headphones, a few food supplies, some old rubber tyres and old pots and pans. I decided to take a closer look at the headphones. The mayor explained to me that these had been left behind by members of the Red Club, but by then I had already switched my interest to the other barn and ordered it to be unlocked. Lo and behold! – a box of English machine-gun ammunition and about 100 bottles, Molotov cocktails, which the bastards had made themselves. The bottles contained an added layer of very fine tobacco of the kind which was used for pest control on cabbage fields to aid the burning time. Rubber straps fashioned from old tyres held the long phosphorus igniter. I was burning with rage and ordered the man to be brought to comrade Helletat. He, being the village commander, would have to decide upon punishment after interrogation. What a bloody mess! If one isn’t facing soldiers, then one has to cope with partisans.

Only this morning, in the neighbouring village of Novo-Siwerskaya, two women notified the Russians about one of our reconnaissance patrols.

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