The Eastern Front in 1943
A selection of posts from the year in which the tables were turned in Russia and the Wehrmacht started a long retreat
Welcome to the Eastern Front
Last weekend the melt water reached up to our knees and filled up the creeks and gardens. The surrounding landscape is a giant lake. Our vehicles are stuck. It takes us three to four days to move a single vehicle which before took only an hour.
A grayish yellow cloud arose in front of us, as if created by a hurricane. Heavy rounds whistled overhead and crashed into the artillery positions behind us. It sounded like a frog concert, except with a lot of horrible tones. Shrapnel, tree limbs and clumps of earth hissed through our fruit orchard. Wounded cried out in a way that went to the marrow of your bones: “Meddicccc!”
Nothing could save us from the enemy numbers. One company withdrew from the trench, and two of our guns were lost. The Russians drove their wedge farther into our hinterland. Our reserves were being bled dry, even before any counterattack could be mounted. There was no help to come. We wrote farewell letters and waited to die.
The Russian Front was Truly Hell on Earth. We need to know more about it than just D Day or Pearl Harbor. It was where Hitler got his Butt Kicked.