Three months after the trains departure I realised how serious our situation had become. The Front was no longer a point far away over the horizon and it had become our turn to attack and drive the foreigners away. We got a message during the evening and already next morning we had to march to the village we had been ordered to attack. Only after 10 kilometers of marching we reached our destination, and had spotted a brook in a lightly forested area which we could use to obscure our advance, as well as hide in for cover. The first section had been sent directly to the city and used the banks of a small brook for cover. I was in the second section and therefore also had to take part in the advance, but before we had even started our attack we received bad news. The officer in charge of the first section had been shot in the head by a marksman after he had peeked over the terrain to get his orientation. This had no effect on the attack however and my group was sent along the brook not long after. We could not see any foreigners from here and they could not see us, however they must have figured out which direction we were planning to advance from. They fired grenades at the column of troops in the brook I was a part of. We were very tightly packed in the brook, and were almost marching in goose step but as soon as the explosions hit our positions I threw myself unto the ground near the brook, placed my hands on my head and pressed myself as flat as I possibly could into the ground. The noise from the explosions and my colleagues whining filled the air, and kept going. That's at least how it seemed, the bombing did not last more than 5 minutes if I had to make an estimation, but it felt like forever. The man right behind me was the most injured, and had to be carried away immediately into safety. The rest of our section withdrew further into the forest where we were better protected from the bombings.

Despite our precautions, a machine gunner lost his life as soon as he left his cover. He had placed himself in some bushes next to the ditch where I had taken cover. The machine gunner was not satisfied with his cover, and as he went towards my ditch he was hit in the chest.

I had gotten my first sight of combat as a soldier and I was surprised of my own reaction. After we had retreated and waited for artillery support for a new attack, I used a few minutes to look at what had happened, and realised that I somehow had the energy to actually think about what had happened. I saw my colleagues and comrades reactions to the grenade attack we had just suffered. The company commander, who had threatened us with his service pistol if we did not advance, now looked very small and pale. He had lost two officers - one was killed and the other was maimed - while a corporal had been injured after a shot through his stomach. 17 of the regular soldiers were more or less heavily injured and were transported away. I was perplexed by my own reaction to the situation, and how I not only could see and listen to what was going on but all of my mental faculties were not disturbed by what had happened. I was just as scared as any of the others of losing my life, but a danger that I had little control I might as well have ignored just as one might ignore a distant thunderstorm. Now that everything was over, I had done what I could. I was scared of losing my life but I was never overwhelmed by the sensation. The fact that I could now see how I was only a small piece, one which could be thrown away on purpose or by accident, gave me a sense of uncertainty and worry. But it never triumphed over my reasoning and perception.

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But at the moment I felt nothing. I was empty and I did not think. we had been taught during our training that there was no time for such and only my actions mattered. It had no use to think about the other living being I was shooting at, and I had no reason to be concerned if I shot first and saw it fall over. I could not think in such a way during the firefight, if I had shot back I would have been the one to fall. To me, it did not matter if I had anything to shoot back at - I was happy to still be alive.

When we attacked the village the second time it was too easy. The foreigners must have figured out that our reinforcements had arrived and had retreated before we reached the village. As we entered the village we searched every house room by room, and I was given the task of taking 2 other men in order to search a small shed. I could not tell if the first door I tried to open was barricaded, locked, or if the door was just poorly made and had gotten stuck. After I kicked it down I entered the shed and found a small pile of fireword as well as an axe with such a rusty axe head that I was convinced it had to be older than me. After the village had been completely searched, half a dozen of soldiers had surrendered and were apprehended. They were afraid of us, but after they each got a cigarette they had calmed down.