Slovakia, Autumn 1944 - p.2: Uphill
October 3, 1944 Tuesday
We started out on another overcast morning and again with empty stomachs. We climbed for hours without knowing where we were being led. There were about forty of us in the unit, mostly young fellows in their teens, a few older guys including our two commanders, and the three girls in their early twenties. I was 17 years old and considered myself more mature than some of the unruly country boys, many of them aged only 15.
We were stretched out in a long line as we climbed up the steep slopes in the increasing fog, slipping on the wet grass. We had frequent stops. At one stop there was a loud bang as one of the 15-year-olds threw a handgranade into a mountain brook, explaining he wanted to get some fish. ---By mid-afternoon the terrain started to level off. We were no longer in a fog, we were enveloped in clouds when we suddenly found ourselves in front of a two-storey tourist hut or mountain chalet. The group dispersed inside the building , everyone looking for a convenient spot to spend the night. It was another day without food.
October 4, 1944 Wednesday
It was cold, damp and there was this impenetrable whiteness outside. We were told that the unit will stay put until the clouds dissipate. This was bad news because all of us were hoping to descend to some village on the northside foothills where we could get something to eat. Most of us had the last warm food three days ago, only a mug of imitation coffee. In the afternoon all of us started to slice, tear or bite small chunks from our bread loaves. Another night on the hard floor, my rucksack serving as a pillow.
We started out on another overcast morning and again with empty stomachs. We climbed for hours without knowing where we were being led. There were about forty of us in the unit, mostly young fellows in their teens, a few older guys including our two commanders, and the three girls in their early twenties. I was 17 years old and considered myself more mature than some of the unruly country boys, many of them aged only 15.
We were stretched out in a long line as we climbed up the steep slopes in the increasing fog, slipping on the wet grass. We had frequent stops. At one stop there was a loud bang as one of the 15-year-olds threw a handgranade into a mountain brook, explaining he wanted to get some fish. ---By mid-afternoon the terrain started to level off. We were no longer in a fog, we were enveloped in clouds when we suddenly found ourselves in front of a two-storey tourist hut or mountain chalet. The group dispersed inside the building , everyone looking for a convenient spot to spend the night. It was another day without food.
October 4, 1944 Wednesday
It was cold, damp and there was this impenetrable whiteness outside. We were told that the unit will stay put until the clouds dissipate. This was bad news because all of us were hoping to descend to some village on the northside foothills where we could get something to eat. Most of us had the last warm food three days ago, only a mug of imitation coffee. In the afternoon all of us started to slice, tear or bite small chunks from our bread loaves. Another night on the hard floor, my rucksack serving as a pillow.
posted by Observer at 10:13 PM
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