Then suddenly it was all over.
Early one morning I was heading for the institute, thinking about my future, when suddenly I heard, actually shuddered at, the terrible news: there was a war on with Germany! Arrangements for our on-the-job training had been called off. The institute had to cancel vacations and shorten the curriculum so that we could proceed with the last year of courses. My courses (now considered the “fourth-year program”) had also been included in the curriculum. But the Nazis had already invaded and we had to defend our country. The Komsomol mobilization had sent to the front fourth-year students who, for the time being, had to forgo their work at the institute until the war was over.
. . . And now I can remember fighting somewhere on the western front. . . and being wounded in the temple. But a month later I was back at the front. Our troops had stopped retreating long ago and were strictly on the offensive, moving further and further ahead. This was 1943 . . . the western sector of the front . . . the battle of Smolensk. Somewhere near Vyazma a platoon of flame-throwers positioned on the Vorya River had been ordered to link up with a rifle company for an attack against the Germans. The combined forces of the flame-throwers and the rifle company were supposed to penetrate the Germans’ defense on the opposite bank of the Vorya. Both companies were waiting for the order to attack, had been for the past forty-eight hours. It was the beginning of March, warm and sunny—but damp. Our felt boots were soaked through, and all of us were eager to get on with the attack. If only the order would come, if only it would . . .
I made the rounds again, talked with each of my men (just then I happened to be in command of the platoon of flame-throwers). . . . I looked to the west, to the opposite bank of the Vorya where the Germans were situated. That bank of the river was rocky and steep, but we had to get through somehow. And we’d make it, I thought, if only that order would come.
And then it did. Everyone started to move, and for a minute—maybe two or three—you could hear the clank of our armor. Then all was still. Suddenly, everyone stepped up his pace and moved on across the icy river. The sun had set but was still shining brightly. The Germans waited silently, two or three of them darting quickly out of sight into the depths of the region. Not a shot, not a sound from them. Then all at once there was a burst of fire from their side, machine guns whirring in every direction. Bullets whistled over my head, I dropped down for cover. But I just couldn’t lie there waiting, not while our eagles were starting to climb the bank. Under fire, I jumped up from the ice, pushed on . . . toward the west . . . there . . . and . . .