The Forgotten Soldier

On the train west, he talks to other soldiers who experienced defeats on other parts of the front. At the Lublin station, Sajer learns that leaves have been canceled, and he is thrown in with a mix of veterans and raw recruits. “Dumb with disappointment” (295), especially over not being able to see Paula, he still hopes that confirming his status as a convalescent might be able to preserve his leave. However, dynamite is found on the train tracks, and Sajer is part of a group assembled to hunt down the partisans. They soon locate a factory and receive orders from a Schutzstaffel (SS) captain to clear it out. At the factory, Sajer is separated from the others and finds himself alone, in the dark, bullets flying past him. He realizes that a partisan is only a few steps away and raises his rifle, and after a moment’s hesitation shoots him dead. He then reconnects with his fellow soldiers, and though they take casualties, they kill the last few offering resistance, and afterward the SS executes those taken prisoner. Sajer is overwhelmed by the sheer “vastness” of Russia, and wonders, “could anyone possibly control this country?” (302). He gets some brief time to rest before being redirected to join a nearby unit. The front is so stretched out that they are not sure where to find those units, adding additional effort and time as the cold begins to set in again. Sajer and another comrade eventually find a tank that helps carry them to a camp, and he finds his unit and captain, Wesreidau. Sajer’s friends, including Hals, welcome him back, though they are sad to hear of his canceled leave. They fear that the Russian onslaught will force them to undergo another costly retreat.

Sajer’s unit is assigned to defend part of the southern flank, periodically having to fend off minor attacks. With winter beginning in earnest, Sajer and his fellows “no longer fought for Hitler, or for Nationalism Socialism, or for the Third Reich […] We fought from simple fear, which was our motivating power. The idea of death, even when we accepted it, made us howl with powerless rage” (316). The Russians make noise, but hold off on attacking as cold and nerves alike set in. Finally, Soviet tanks come pouring through, and the Germans respond with anti-tank missiles (Panzerfausts). They repulse it successfully, drinking afterward to celebrate the victory. However, Sajer feels left out as many of the German soldiers exclude non-Germans like Sajer from their celebrations. The party is short-lived as the Soviets resume their assault the next day, and Sajer is ordered to recover supplies from the recently killed. Avoiding tanks, mortar fire, and the sight of comrades dying, he is “seized by a rush of terror so powerful that I felt my mind was cracking” (327). By morning, he realizes that he miraculously escaped detection from Soviet soldiers who had overrun his position, and he is able to reunite with his unit and friends. Ultimately, the Germans decide to retreat once again, hoping that bad weather will give them cover for long enough.

Sajer and his fellow soldiers are able to march 30 miles westward without harassment from the Red Army, but move under constant attack by partisans. Ukrainian civilians, some of whom were sympathetic to the invading Germans, now turn on them as they escape. The winter makes it nearly impossible to stand still for guard duty, with many soldiers succumbing to frostbite, pneumonia, and sheer exhaustion. Vehicles break down, and partisan booby-traps claim many lives. The Germans are able to catch up with a band of partisans, “human wolves” whom they kill in battle or trying to escape. Yet they abandon the territory “to the Red waves that followed us. This was the final passage of the last European crusade—in the complete sense of the word” (340).

Sajer’s unit then joins a contingent in the town of Boporoeivska, finding a group of civilian bureaucrats eager to flee what might soon be a combat zone. The soldiers are able to bathe, and everyone shares in a “symphony of heroism” as they enjoy a fine meal (342). On Christmas night, the men talk of home and enjoy the last of the provisions. After a few days, Soviet tanks approach, charging forward through a minefield with a level of courage that Sajer cannot help but admire. With temperatures plunging to nearly 50 degrees below zero, the Soviets wait a few weeks before commencing a major assault, which inflicts casualties but fails due to the timely intervention of the Luftwaffe. German forces find similar success all along the line, and the Gross Deutschland Division is amply decorated for its efforts.

Having suffered much and endured many bruising retreats, Sajer’s unit is given rest in Poland, far from the front. They see another class of raw recruits receiving their initial training, some of them elderly police officers. They resume their training routine, finally receiving a new set of uniforms. On a walk through the country, Sajer meets a woman who collects eggs, stuffs them in his pocket, and then suddenly reaches to unzip his pants. He clumsily avoids her advances, smashing the eggs in the process, and ultimately the woman agrees to clean his tunic. As he leaves, he realizes he has left his gun behind, and he sheepishly grabs it, later telling his friends about his experience to their amusement.

With the onset of spring, the Red Army is pushing into Poland, although “the war seemed to have forgotten us in this enchanted place” (359). Suddenly, there are orders to break down the camp and roll out, and soon afterward Soviet bombers appear and deliver their payloads right on top of them. They jump into old trucks, preparing to rejoin the fray.

Upon recrossing the frontier into Ukraine, Sajer and his unit are ordered to secure the interior against attacks by partisans, who often melt into the civilian population in the expectation that brutal reprisals will turn civilians against the Germans. The constant anticipation of attacks or traps is profoundly stressful. They form a ring around a large band of partisans, but it is well defended and early assaults fail. Eventually, they execute a maneuver of tricking the enemy to concentrate their fire against what they thought was a strong point, while shifting their strength against the enemy’s vulnerable spot. A brutal hand-to-hand struggle ensues, and after cleaning up, they arrive at a village where “we drank everything we could get hold of, trying to blot out the memory of a hideous day” (367).

Encounters with partisans are frequent, and they learn that a nearby post has been surrounded. They leave to provide relief, quickly overwhelming the partisans, to their shock finding young girls among the dead. During one fight, a fire breaks out in a village, killing many civilians, and Sajer cannot help but feel the villagers were “paying a price they could have avoided for all time” (373). At one point, an explosion rips through a car at the head of a convoy, and to the astonishment of the men, their captain, Wesreidau, is fatally wounded. Deprived of their respected leader, they receive orders to go back to the front, encountering little on their march except for propaganda leaflets with images of bombed-out German cities. They come across a large contingent of men who have recently fled the Red Army, and an officer tries in vain to boost their morale, but they are on the brink of starvation and care little for ideology. They retreat into Romania, fighting off partisans along the way. They luckily come across crates of food and other delicacies, wolfing them down without their superiors’ knowledge, boasting that they have consumed all the evidence, so they won’t get caught.