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

Before I had gone much further my hopes were again cruelly dashed. Approaching the edge of the wood I saw massive Russian forces spread out over the adjoining fields. There were tanks, armoured troop-carriers, trucks and other assorted vehicles as well as any amount of soldiers. Luckily, I was still too far away to have been seen by any look-out, so I immediately retreated and managed to find a good vantage point half a mile away and hid behind some thick bushes, where I could safely watch what the Russians were doing while I checked out the landscape. There was at least three miles of very open country between me and the next wood to the west with no way of getting across safely during daylight. A detour was not practical and it looked like a whole day was going to be wasted while I waited for darkness. The good news was that I could see a number of compact woods stretching towards the horizon and it would be easier to walk westwards without seriously losing my way.

Very little activity was going on among the Russians. Within a short while, a motor-cycle dispatch rider arrived at the site and left soon after. I wondered whether this would signal an early departure of the troops, but nothing further happened and peace reigned supreme. My reasoning suggested that the Front-lines were not far away and that the Russian forces were being held in readiness to go into action. If this was correct it was good news, but it also meant that my time to reach the German lines was limited. From now on I could take only brief rests and I would have to keep walking as fast as my strength allowed. As the day wore on it became quite warm and I started to get drowsy. I hid away in a cooler spot in the wood where I could safely rest lying down and still hear if the Russians began to pull out.

It was late in the evening before I heard engines start up. Going back to my vantage point, I saw the troops preparing to leave. An hour later the site was deserted. I waited until it was almost dark and then set off cautiously. I was able to reach the first wood safely and then quickly set off westwards. Since I had rested for most of the day, I decided to eat nothing for a few hours and to keep walking till I got tired. At midnight I finished off the last slice of bread and settled down for an hour’s sleep.

On this, the fourth day of my trek, I awoke feeling refreshed, but very hungry and there was not even a scrap of food left. Sipping from my drinking flask gave me little relief. In an attempt to fool my body that it was getting some nourishment, I decided to take a mouthful every hour even though all I got was a stale taste from my flask.

Visibility was poor when I set off and sometimes my progress was painfully slow due to the changing nature of the wood. I walked for two hours and then stopped for a breather knowing that soon the dawn would break and help me to make faster progress. I continued looking out for some wild berries, but the general vegetation in the area gave me little hope of finding any.

Because there were no “war-noises” I still had no clue what was going on. Ever since my chance encounters with the Russian forces I had seen nobody and, if it had not been for a small amount of wildlife, I could have been all alone on earth. Wildlife had indeed been scarce enough. On my journey I had seen some squirrels and rabbits; there were also crows, woodpeckers and the odd buzzard but that was all. The solitude was beginning to get to me.

The day wore on and I could not progress as fast as I would have liked. Tiredness and lack of food had blunted the sharpness of my brain, but it was still functioning in a sort of automatic way; evaluating the terrain and any potential dangers that might lie ahead. I had no eyes for the attraction of the scenery around me, my only thought was of getting back to some German unit, no matter where.

When settling down for the next night I took stock of my condition. I was physically weaker than I had expected to be; maybe the mental strain of being alone for so long was beginning to tell. The real danger would come when my sense of judgement began to be affected by my hunger and tiredness and I started to make mistakes. How well would I function even on the coming day?

When I awoke, the dawn was breaking and, for the first time, I had overslept. This was a bad sign, but the sharpness of the morning air revived me and I began to feel better when I was again walking along at a good pace. An hour later I reached the end of the wood and assessed the territory ahead of me. Glancing to my right I saw a dilapidated small cottage, part of which had collapsed. A barely recognisable path led to it and I was convinced that the cottage was deserted. The prospect of finding food seemed remote, but I could safely approach the building from the rear under cover of the wood. With my rifle at the ready and the safety catch released, I crept up to the cottage. All was quiet as I looked through one of the broken windows into what had been a bedroom. Only the frame of a bed was left, everything else had gone. Moving along the back of the house I looked through the window of the only other room left intact. This had been the kitchen and also gave the impression that the cottage had been abandoned a long time ago. The kitchen had an outside door to the back which opened readily to my push. I made a quick search for food, but found only some mouldy grains of oats.

A door led to the tumbledown part of the cottage and, after some trouble, I managed to wrench it open. I found myself looking into a store-room which was empty apart from a small barrel in one corner. When I lifted the lid of the barrel my breath was almost taken away by acid fumes rising from the contents. Steeling myself for a closer look I discovered that the barrel was full of green, pickled tomatoes. The vinegar had kept them fresh, so I quickly tried one after first wiping the surface dry on my uniform. To me, they were delicious! Despite my resolve to be prudent and go easy on them, I found myself wolfing them down regardlessly. However, I soon came to my senses and stopped to check the reaction from my stomach. It seemed to be quite happy with the unexpected windfall, so I slowly ate a few more. I then selected a handful of the smallest and hardest tomatoes which I dried and carefully put into my pockets.

Emerging from the cottage I heard the sound of an exchange of gun-fire which, in this case, was a good omen because it sounded as if the German lines were now within reach. It seemed they were about five miles away and in a north-westerly direction. By crossing a short open space I would be able to reach the next wood and continue westwards. If I moved fast enough I might be able to get past the conflict area and behind the German units before they retreated any further.

Freshly fortified with my doubtful green diet I got across the open area without incident. After that my luck again evaporated. The wood became almost impenetrable, forcing me to make detour after detour so that I lost much time and was no longer sure that I was going in the right direction. It was now midday, two hours since I had heard the last gun-fire and I began to despair of making the contact which had been so tantalisingly near.

Suddenly I came across a logging path which cut diagonally across my route. This was a godsend and I quickly followed it keeping well to one side. It soon ended at an open clearing and there, to my delight, stood a German truck with my divisional markings. Was this salvation or another disappointment with the truck already in Russian hands? I made a wide circuit of the clearing until I got to the far side and there, to my incredible relief, I saw a small group of soldiers belonging to my division. I had arrived in the nick of time because they were about to climb onto the back of the truck. There was now just the usual tricky bit of being recognised before getting accidentally shot.