The Sunken Road
Diary of a Stosstrupp Leader (Part 49)
This post continues the translation of the diary of a German soldier who fought in the First World War. Readers can find links to other posts in this series in the following guide:
3 May 1918
The Colonel and the regimental staff spent last night with us. We made the communications trench a little deeper and made a niche for sitting.
Aircraft filled the air. We counted at least twenty-five English and French planes.
At night, the enemy flyers dropped bombs on our positions. These exploded with an abominable, never-wracking noise.
The enemy must be well supplied with ammunition, well-enough to be able drop bombs on open ground. Towards evening, the artillery - especially that of the British - began to fire again.
Stretcher bearers went forward, bearing Red Cross flags, and rescued the wounded.
It rained.
4 May 1918
The day began with cool weather, but then the day warmed up. Airplanes filled the sky.
As had been the case with just about every evening, some of the ration carriers were killed or wounded.
On average, each company lost five men per day, not all of whom were carrying food to their comrades.
During the night, we received the order to shift our sector a little to the right.
5 May 1918
At one in the morning we left our hole and moved to a sunken road, a hundred meters or so closer to the enemy. We arranged for a small shelter for the battalion headquarters to be dug into the embankment.
The shelter lay three meters below ground level and was provided with three entrances, each big enough for one man to lie down in or crawl through.
My quarters consisted of treads from a stairway resting atop hand grenade crates. It was damp, but not as damp as my old hole.
A shell that exploded among a group of ration carriers killed Private Milsner. Nicknamed ‘Schampel’, he was one of my finest former stormtroopers.
6 May 1918
At a quarter to four in the morning Spengler and I made a visit to the commander of the forward battalion (KTK=Kampftruppenkommandeur).
As it grew light so quickly, British machine gunners fired upon us. Rapid zigzagging allowed us to escape the beaten zone.
We got back (to our headquarters) at five thirty or so and slept until noon. In the afternoon, we went into the sunken road to lie in the sun.
An enemy plane flew over our sunken road at an altitude of fifty meters. Our own machine guns fired on it, but did no obvious damage.
We ate cold food and drank spoiled wine.
to be continued …
Sources
The text comes from Alwin Lyding Meine Kriegstagbuch (My War Diary), an unpublished manuscript that I found at the Bundesarchiv (German Federal Archive) (Folder N 382/1).
Related Reading
Spoiled wine is vinegar, usually.