As the house burned behind me, I attempted to assist several of my colleagues in getting the wounded across the snowy road. It was an awkward affair as I had to carry my machinegun at the same time, but I saw one man trying limp with a rifle with one arm, while wrapping the other arm around an uninjured colleague who provided support. I called out to the man giving support and suggested switching places, my reasoning for this was that in case an emergency appeared, I would be of little use with the heavy machinegun while my other colleague was far better prepared to provide some resistance with his rifle. He realised what I was thinking and agreed and as I got under the injured mans shoulder, my colleague ran to the back of the retreating column. I heard a scream coming from next to me and thought I had done something to injure the man I was carrying, but it turned out to be a man in front of me who was hit by something in the leg and collapsed, realising I could not provide any more help unless I dropped my heavy machinegun, I stepped over the man and continued. Despite the chaotic nature of our retreat away from the house we had made it to a relatively safe position, consisting of a ditch and a small bunker outside of the village.

As the night continued, I realised that the foreigners must have retreated back to the village, or perhaps even further back, as we suffered no attacks for the rest of the day. The calm was broken by the order I received to go outside of the bunker to keep watch on the left side of the bunker. In the morning darkness I saw a foreign soldier who was making his way over to my position, he had his gun over his shoulder and it appeared as if he had no idea where I was. I did not shoot, but I of course kept my finger on the trigger. Some of my colleagues saw him as well and shot him immediately. After they had done so they walked over and took his boots. My colleagues considered this whole procedure a good deed on their part, but I expressed to them that I disagreed and that taking a prisoner seemed like the correct thing to do in this case. They explained that taking a prisoner in our perilous situation was a burden for us, as well as the prisoner. I felt ashamed as I got back into position.

Later that morning as it became bright I was caught in an awful position. I was not in the safety of the bunker or the ditch and I became aware of this as a rockets started bombarding the area I was in. My colleagues who ran immediately had forgotten me in their hurry. This meant that I as the last - completely alone - had to put my legs to work and run to safety. The machinegun I was carrying did not help in this, as it was far too awkward to run at a fast pace while lugging around the heavy contraption as well as the bullets required to shoot it. Therefore I made a decision which would be unacceptable to a soldier - I dropped my machinegun on purpose. I thought my life was worth more than a dumb gun. Luckily the rockets were not followed by a daring attack, and my machinegun was not stranded for long in the snow. Later that day I picked it up again and made my way back.

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It was at this point however that it was over with moving forward. The defense of the capital turned out to be a success for the foreigners - and it did not take long before our company was told to pull itself back. The official reasoning was that the front was too unstable and we needed to wait for additional reinforcements. The truth was that the horrible weather had done us in, the horses we had to pull our supplies were becoming sick unless their caretakers kept maintaining roaring fires to heat them, which was impossible since the company had to keep moving, and our dear soup cannon had a hard time moving on the poorly maintained roads. As we pulled back I thought of the civilians who had the unfortunate situation of seeing us proceed in the opposite direction. Our way back was a less pleasant experience, as the idea of burning houses as we retreated had stuck with the officers who insisted on slowing the enemy advance. It was a harsh treatment of a population which had provided shelter for us during the advance, it was during this where the war became more evil than I would have preferred, I would like to think that the people themselves are not evil but rather the circumstances of the war which provoked such actions. We kept marching for several days before we had a chance to sleep in a village, until then every night was spent in small foxholes. The village we found we spent almost a week in. In this period there were several snowstorms and I, together with a comrade, found a house to reside in. In the house an old grandfather and a mother with three small children, as well as a larger daughter. The daughter was rarely at home, as she worked in a lazareth which had been set up. Just like many of the other houses we slept in, half of it was a dedicated barn. The rest of the house consisted of just one room where we slept with the family. To keep the winter cold out the inside of the windows were covered in cloth and cotton, there was only a tiny slit for the light to shine through. There was little furniture to speak of: one bed for the family and a small wooden table with a bench and two stools. Despite this I cannot describe how cozy it was indoors, and it would only get cozier as the storms raged outside. In those days we almost forgot the ugly war. We had even gotten more supplies due to the decreased distance from the supply trains, we received so much food that me and my comrade could not eat it ourselves, and started handing out to the family and kids in the house. One days we were handed some cigarettes and a quarter bottle of liquor. None of us smoked, so we traded the cigarettes for more liquor and ended up with a whole bottle to share. When dinner time came we put the bottle on the table and had a drink. This eventually turned into several and then many, and the talk became more and more lively. By the end of the bottle we sang and partied for half the night.

This was at the expense of the amily who did not get a moment to sleep. The children kried just as much as we sang, but we forgot for a moment everything around us. We were of course still uninvited guests at their house but it seems as if the adults at least liked our company. When it became time to leave the mother had even baked a cake, which consisted of whatever she had in the kitchen at the time, but the dough had plenty of poppy seeds, and it tasted wonderful when eaten warm.