Читать книгу Poles in Kaisers Army On the Front of the First World War - Ryszard Kaczmarek - Страница 18

Most soldiers remembered particularly well their first combat with the French and the Belgians. Baptism of fire is something extraordinary in the life of a recruit. For the first time, they had to face the fact that they must kill and may be killed, while their closest friends fall on the battlefield. They had to learn that not always would they kill someone anonymous, but sometimes they would stab the bayonet in the back of an enemy that stood right next to them. Later, frontline experience allowed the soldiers to partly accustom to the state of constant threat of life and participation in a mass murder, but the first time was a true baptism of fire for every young man. Furthermore, it was an opportunity for officers to assess the preparation of their troops and readiness for absolute submission to orders, even if the commander was about to send them to inevitable death on the battlefield.

Often, extreme exhaustion and emotions from battle made soldiers stop thinking rationally, which eased them into submission. The automatism of trained motions blunted their decision to go under enemy’s fire. A man from Greater Poland recalls his first fight as a dramatic experience:

We hear a command: “Form an extended line! Down – up – march, march, down, and up etc…. Don’t be afraid boys, the French shoot too high so they won’t hit anyone.” – yells Captain Moebius [a battalion’s commander]. The French are well hidden…. The fire increases with every moment…. We push on in jumps. Fire increases from the left. We have to pass this oat field, the French must be there. We reached the oat field, where the French stand up here and there, fire a shot, and hide again. We have to capture this field by force. Hard as rock, the oat hinders our march. The French sit in the middle of the field. We push on slowly and carefully. Our line thickens, supported by other units, but we do not lose contact. We ready cold steel and rifles. Suddenly, two French heads come up two steps in front of us and fire simultaneously. We are fast enough to evade them and avoid death. At the same moment, our companions came out from the left and managed to knock them down…. There are so many dead bodies as sheafs on the field. We hear a trumpet. It is a signal to attack. From the left, we begin to hear a constant “Hooray!” There are fewer shots ahead. “Assault!” We run. Several fall. Each step a fallen man. We finally reach the line, but the French are not there. Where are they? We scramble from the line toward the hilltop, but we cannot look to the other side. Every man who does that – immediately drops dead. Bodies of soldiers, rifles, satchels, and helmets, they all roll down the mountain. The entire viaduct is covered with injured ←69 | 70→who cry for help. The dying wheeze, shiver, and roll their eyes. Those no longer in need are stretched in unimaginable poses.¹⁸⁹