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Mein Bild
In Mori (Stockelsdorf) bei Lübeck aufgewachsen, habe ich bereits von 1916 bis 1918 am Ersten Weltkrieg im Füsilierregiment "Königin" Nr. 86 teilgenommen. Im August 1939 wurde ich als Veteran in die Wehrmacht eingezogen. In diesem Blog veröffentliche ich mein Kriegstagebuch.

Dienstag, 22. März 2011

22. März 1918

Als wir morgens erwachen, streut der Tommy willkürlich mit seinen Granaten das Gelände um uns herum ab. Vor Kälte an allen Gliedern zitternd, stehen wir auf und gehen erstmal aus dem Feuerbereich heraus.

Wir erhalten den Auftrag, vom Steinbruch aus Leitungen zu legen, sollen uns aber nicht totschießen lassen. Eine heikle Sache! Es glückt uns, zum Steinbruch zu kommen, den der Engländer wie wild beschießt. Wir halten mit unserem Bauwagen auf der Straße am Steinbruch.

Die Strasse von Hargicourt nach
Templaux le Guérard auf dem Weg zum Steinbruch heute
The road from Hargicourt to Templaux le Guérard leading up to the quarry as seen today.



Größere Kartenansicht


Vor und hinter der Straße detonieren die dicken Brummer im Gelände. Wir liegen platt am Straßenrand. Die Grantsplitter sausen über uns hinweg, einige fahren in unseren Bauwagen. Wir holen Kabel und Baugerät aus dem Wagen und schlängeln uns durch die verlassenen Schützengräben zum Steinbruch. Ab und zu stoßen wir auf die Leichen der gefallenen Soldaten. Hier liegt ein Deutscher, dort liegen einige Engländer. Oft sieht man in furchtbar entstellte Gesichter.
Vom Steinbruch aus, wo wir zunächst einmal über Keks und Dosenfleisch der Engländer herfallen, sollen wir eine Leitung nach einem Regimentsgefechtsstand bauen. Man bezeichnet uns die Richtung, in der er liegen soll; genaues kann uns aber niemand sagen. Wir zittern los, indem wir das Kabel im Eiltempo auf die Straße werfen. Nicht lange dauert es, und wir sind wieder im Granatfeuer. So schnell wie möglich bemühen wir uns, aus dieser Hölle herauszukommen.

Leider bin ich gezwungen, mich dann und wann aufzuhalten, um schadhafte Stellen im Kabel zu isolieren. Der Mann mit der Rückentrage stürzt, so schnell es geht, voran. Bald darauf werden wir mit Gas beschossen und geraten schließlich ins feindliche Maschinengewehrfeuer.
Vor uns liegen brennende Tanks des Gegners. Endlich gelangen wir glücklich nach dem gesuchten Gefechtsstand und schließen dort die Leitung an. Aus dem Geländeabschnitt hinter unserem vordersten Schützengraben holen wir uns einige englische Lederjacken, die wir mit zurück nehmen. Überall liegen Ausrüstungsgegenstände der Engländer herum: Mäntel, Jacken, Mützen, Schanzzeug, aber auch Rasiermesser, Corned Beef, Weißbrot und Keks. Manches davon kommt uns trefflich zustatten.

Der Steinbruch heute/
The quarry as seen today.


Größere Kartenansicht


Nach unserer Rückkehr rücken wir weiter über bis vor Villers-Faucon. Hier und dort stoßen wir auf die Wellblechbaracken der Tommies, die zuweilen ein ganzen Lager bilden, und in denen Haufen von Wäsche und anderen Dingen herumliegen. Wir lassen alles liegen. Auch die überall verstreuten Haufen von Munition interessieren uns nicht.

Es ist noch nachzutragen, daß unser Divisionskommandeur, Generalmajor Block von Blottnitz, am Vormittag auf dem Steinbruch von Hargicourt gefallen ist. Während des wüsten Einschlagens von Granaten ringsumher hatte der die Zurufe seiner Stabsoffiziere, sich zu Boden zu werfen, nicht beachtet. Er war bei allen Soldaten seiner Division sehr beliebt gewesen, und jeder einzelne besaß seine Photographie im Postkartenformat.












When we awake in the morning, Tommy arbitrarily shells the terrain surrounding us. Shivering from the bitter cold, we get up and first of move out of the shelled area.

We receive orders to build lines starting from the quarry, but not to let ourselves get shot dead. A delicate matter! We luckily manage to get to the quarry, which is wildly being shelled by the Englishmen. We stop our construction trailer at the road next to the quarry.

In front of and behind the road the big ones detonate in the terrain. We lie flat on the roadside. Splinters are hurling across our heads, some smash into our trailer. We fetch cables and tools from the construction trailer and wiggle through the empty trenches to the quarry. Every now and then we stumble on the bodies of fallen soldiers. Here lies a German, there some Englishmen. Often you see dreadfully blemished faces.
From the quarry, where we first of all savage the english cookies and canned meat, we are to build a phone line to the regimental command post. We are shown the direction in which it is believed to be; but no one can tell us more precisely. We wiggle off by thorwing the cable as fast as can be across the road. Not long, and we are back in the shellfire. We work hard to get out of this hell as quickly as possible.

Unfortunately I am forced to stop every now and then to isolate defective pieces of the cable. The man carrying the cable barrow on his back hurries forward as fast as possible. Shortly after, we are shelled with gas and finally stumble into the enemy machinegun fire.
Ahead of us there lie burning tanks of our opponent. Finally, we luckily reach back to the command post sought for and connect the cable. From the terrain behind our first trench line we fetch some english leather jackets, that we take back with us. Scattered everywhere, there lay all kinds of equipments: coats, jackets, caps, trench gear, but also shaving knives, corned beef, white bread and cookies. Some of these things are very welcome to us.

After our return we advance up to Villers-Faucon. Every now and then we find barracks of the Tommies made of corrugated iron, sometimes forming whole camps with heaps of laundry and other things. We leave everything behind. Neither are we interested in the heaps of ammunition that are scattered everywhere.

It has to be added, that our divisional commander, Major General Block von Blottnitz, has fallen in the quarry of Hargicourt in the morning. While grenades were wildly exploding all around, he had ignored the warning shouts of his staff officers to lie down. He was very popular amongst all soldiers of his division, and each end everyone held a photograph of him in a post card format.

FRA

Al mattino, svegliandoci, gli Inglesi arbitrariamente bombardano il terreno intorno a noi. Tremando per il freddo pungente, ci alziamo e per prima cosa cerchiamo ti toglierci dalla zona bombardata.

Riceviamo ordini di approntare linee a partire dalla cava, ma di non farci ammazzare. Una questione delicata! Con un po' di fortuna ci diamo da fare per raggiungere la cava, che è sottoposta ad un selvaggio bombardamento da parte degli Inglesi. Lasciamo il nostro carro sulla strada, vicino alla cava.

Di fronte e dietro la strada, i grossi calibri tuonano sul terreno. Stiamo appiattiti sui bordi della strada. Le schegge volano sulle nostre teste, alcune si schiantano sul nostro carro. Andiamo a prendere cavi e attrezzi dal carro e strisciamo nelle trincee vuote verso la cava. Ogni tanto inciampiamo sui corpi di soldati caduti. Qui giace un tedesco, là alcuni Inglesi. Spesso si vedono volti orribilmente sfigurati.
Dalla cava, dove prima di tutto facciamo razzia dei dolci e del cibo in scatola Inglesi, dobbiamo approntare una linea telefonica verso il posto di Comando del reggimento. Ci mostrano la direzione verso la quale dovrebbe trovarsi; nessuno sa essere più preciso. Contorcendoci, usciamo dalla cava lanciando più presto che possiamo il cavo attraverso la strada. Poco dopo, siamo di nuovo nella buca. Lavoriamo duramente per uscire da questo inferno il più velocemente possibile.

Sfortunatamente sono costretto a fermarmi di continuo per isolare pezzi difettosi della linea. L'uomo che trascina il carrello del cavo corre in avanti più veloce che può. Poco dopo, ci bombardano con i gas e alla fine ci imbattiamo anche nel fuoco delle mitragliatrici.
Davanti a noi bruciano carri armati nemici. Finalmente raggiungiamo, fortunosamente, il posto di Comando che cercavamo e colleghiamo il cavo. Dal terreno, dietro la nostra prima linea di trincee, prendiamo alcune giubbe di pelle Inglesi e ce le portiamo via. Sparso dappertutto, essi hanno abbandonato ogni tipo di equipaggiamento: abiti, giubbe, berretti, abbigliamento da trincea, ma anche lame da barba, manzo sotto sale, pane bianco e dolci. Alcune di queste cose sono molto apprezzate da noi.

Dopo il nostro ritorno avanziamo verso Villers-Faucon. Ogni tanto troviamo baraccamenti Inglesi fatti di lamiera ondulata, talvolta interi campi di cumuli di biancheria e altre cianfrusaglie. Lasciamo tutto lì. Nè' ci interessano le cataste di munizioni sparse dovunque.

Devo aggiungere che il nostro Comandante di Divisione, Gen. di Div. Block von Blottnitz, è stato colpito nella cava di Hargicourt, al mattino. Mentre le granate esplodevano furiosamente tutto intorno, egli aveva ignorato le grida di allarme degli ufficiali del suo staff che gli intimavano di stare giù. Era molto popolare tra i soldati della sua Divisione, e ciascuno di loro conserva una sua fotografia in formato cartolina.

1 Kommentar:

  1. When we awake in the morning, Tommy arbitrarily shells the terrain surrounding us. Shivering from the bitter cold, we get up and first of move out of the shelled area.

    We receive orders to build lines starting from the quarry, but not to let ourselves get shot dead. A delicate matter! We luckily manage to get to the quarry, which is wildly being shelled by the Englishmen. We stop our construction trailer at the road next to the quarry.

    Picture:
    The road from Hargicourt to Templaux le Guérard leading up to the quarry as seen today.

    In front of and behind the road the big ones detonate in the terrain. We lie flat on the roadside. Splinters are hurling across our heads, some smash into our trailer. We fetch cables and tools from the construction trailer and wiggle through the empty trenches to the quarry. Every now and then we stumble on the bodies of fallen soldiers. Here lies a German, there some Englishmen. Often you see dreadfully blemished faces.
    From the quarry, where we first of all savage the english cookies and canned meat, we are to build a phone line to the regimental command post. We are shown the direction in which it is believed to be; but no one can tell us more precisely. We wiggle off by thorwing the cable as fast as can be across the road. Not long, and we are back in the shellfire. We work hard to get out of this hell as quickly as possible.

    Unfortunately I am forced to stop every now and then to isolate defective pieces of the cable. The man carrying the cable barrow on his back hurries forward as fast as possible. Shortly after, we are shelled with gas and finally stumble into the enemy machinegun fire.
    Ahead of us there lie burning tanks of our opponent. Finally, we luckily reach back to the command post sought for and connect the cable. From the terrain behind our first trench line we fetch some english leather jackets, that we take back with us. Scattered everywhere, there lay all kinds of equipments: coats, jackets, caps, trench gear, but also shaving knives, corned beef, white bread and cookies. Some of these things are very welcome to us.

    Picture:
    The quarry as seen today.

    After our return we advance up to Villers-Faucon. Every now and then we find barracks of the Tommies made of corrugated iron, sometimes forming whole camps with heaps of laundry and other things. We leave everything behind. Neither are we interested in the heaps of ammunition that are scattered everywhere.

    It has to be added, that our divisional commander, Major General Block von Blottnitz, has fallen in the quarry of Hargicourt in the morning. While grenades were wildly exploding all around, he had ignored the warning shouts of his staff officers to lie down. He was very popular amongst all soldiers of his division, and each end everyone held a photograph of him in a post card format.

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