John Stieber - Against the Odds - Survival on the Russian Front 1944-1945 [2nd Edition]

At this point I jettisoned my steel helmet and gas mask. Their weight did not bother me, but they affected my freedom of movement. A soldier’s first priority is to retain his means of protection and for this reason I had started off with my rifle, spare ammunition, steel helmet and gas mask. But I was now in an abnormal situation. I had begun to feel like an animal that could be hunted down and my first concern became territorial skill where anything affecting maximum progress had to be abandoned. The rifle could never be discarded since it gave me the means of protection if my life was threatened. My bread was in a canvas bag. Both it and the drinking flask were neatly attached to my belt with clips and were no hindrance to me.

In the course of the day I could hear the distant noise of action to the north and south of me and it seemed to move westwards indicating a gradual retreat by German units. I clearly had to push on as fast as possible to avoid falling behind the advancing Russians. There was still a lot of good cover, but at times it was too good and progress among the trees became laborious and even painful as I anxiously squeezed past prickly branches of fir-trees. In the evening I sat down to eat another half slice of bread onto which I scraped my last dripping.

Although I had been walking all day, except for the odd short break, it had often been in zig-zag fashion and I also had to double back several times to look for a safer route. My straight-line progress had probably not been many miles, so I decided to push on for a couple of hours after dark since I would be able to recognize my planned route fairly well.

Soon I experienced a bad hold up when I had to cross a main road and could hear a convoy of trucks approaching. They were driving on full headlights, so I knew they were Russian vehicles. Luckily for me, this Russian habit made it easier to gauge the speed and density of approaching traffic than if I had only the sound of the engines to go by. The string of headlights told me that I was in for a long wait, so I picked a suitable spot where I could take a breather and watch developments. Unfortunately, the road was almost dead straight for as far as I could make out. Had there been a bend nearby I could have used the seconds of momentary darkness, before a vehicle came round the corner, to make a quick dash across the road. It was the best part of an hour before all danger had passed and it was safe to sprint to the other side. I kept on walking for another half an hour until I reached a higher elevation and then picked a safe spot to settle down for a sip of coffee and some sleep. My growing hunger was no problem, but the coffee was getting more and more tasteless after repeated topping up with water from little streams that I came across. Moments later I was fast asleep in the second night of my lone trek.

I awoke with a general feeling of dampness having slept through a fall of rain. The rain had cleared, but the trees had not given me much shelter and my uniform was fairly sodden. I took stock of the dwindling supply of food which would now last me for only another two days. There was no way of knowing how far it was back to the German lines and how correct my decision had been to space my bread over three days. It might even take me much longer and it would be far too risky to look for food at any habitation. Strangely, I had not seen any edible wild berries. Thirst was not presenting a problem and I expected to be able to keep on topping up my flask with water on the way. Soon I would have to make do with liquid only.

It was only after setting off that I realised I was in added trouble; finding my way was going to be far more difficult than I had thought. Although I could roughly make out a westerly direction, I had no overview of the landscape and the woods around me were thicker than ever. Since I did not have a map with me I could be in a very extensive forest without knowing it and, although that meant being relatively safe from the Russians, I could end up lost and collapsing from hunger. A moment of panic overcame me with the feeling that I had stupidly relied on the size of woods following a similar pattern as before, but there was no reason why they should. My fears subsided when I told myself that I had a reasonable chance of getting back to where I had entered the present woodland and, at worst, I would have lost about six hours of walking. I was lucky not to know the full extent of my predicament. Huge woods covered the region where I was lost and there was widespread swampland further south in the direction of the river Radomka. Had I blundered into that area my prospects would have been even more hopeless.

I decided to climb a tree in the hope of getting new bearings. The task did not daunt me because I had become an expert climber during my boyhood years in Carlow. Even the mature beech trees in our back garden had been no problem to me after I managed to overcome the more difficult sections. Since the rifle would get in my way, I first hid it in some bushes. The chance of anybody coming along and finding it was surely nil, but there was no point in taking any risk and advertising my presence. I then picked the highest fir tree which was standing slightly away from its neighbours. Having got near the top I tried to look out between the branches in a westerly direction. This was frustratingly difficult and when I finally managed to unblock some of the view, all I could see was trees, trees and nothing but trees.

I could have shouted with exasperation. The exertion of climbing, and the disappointment, had so sapped my strength that I had to sit down on a branch for a while to recover. With a sinking feeling I forced myself to make another attempt. If I could only see a break in this damned forest, even if it was in the wrong direction, I would have been satisfied.

For the next ten minutes I struggled with the tree, often precariously balanced on a branch until I was finally rewarded with a glimpse of what looked like a break to the south-west. It was not much, but I would have to be satisfied. I got down the tree and took a short rest while recovering from the exertions. The supposed break was about two miles away and I had no option but to go for it, memorising the stages on the way. If I missed the break, more tree-climbing would be called for. If the break turned out to be no good, I might still have to make my way back to this starting point, but the prospect of having to do that did not bear thinking about.

My route turned out to be much more difficult than I had anticipated. Some sections seemed impenetrable and if I could not get through I had to find a way around them. It was early afternoon before I reached the edge of the wood, but it was clearly not the same place I had been aiming at. I was certainly very lucky not to have ended up in the depths of another part of the wood and I was scared to think how little control I had over the direction I had taken. It would have been so easy to keep going round in circles.

I was mentally and physically exhausted at this stage and sat down for half an hour to recover and to collect my wits. I would have to be more careful in future, but how could I find a better way of making progress? For the moment I would have to stay just inside the wood and keep going in a south-westerly direction.

Not wishing to continue in the darkness, since I was not sure of my bearings, I decided to look for a spot to spend the night. Eating half-a-slice of bread did little to pacify my grumbling stomach and I felt sure it would betray me if ever I had to hide close to any Russians.

The third morning of my lone trek dawned. It was obviously going to be a sunny and cloudless day, a matter not at all to my liking because I could be more easily seen. Having had my morning bite I was able to set off in a more westerly direction; it seemed reasonably safe to do so since the wood was not nearly as dense as it had been. After walking for an hour I caught a glimpse of wide stretches of open country to my right. I quickly headed in that direction and was soon rewarded by a good view into the far distance. At last I could get some fresh bearings.