Free Eastern Inferno: The Journals of a German Panzerjäger on the Eastern Front, 1941-43 by Christine Alexander, Mason Kunze Page A

I thank fate for allowing our paths to cross and making you, my darling, my wife and the mother of our beloved Erika.
    Please God, let me return home safely, so that I can make up for my mistake and still have time to catch up on everything!
    Despite fierce resistance, we manage to break through enemy lines in the evening. We are making good progress.
    4 August: We are now about 15 kilometers from Kiev. The Weta Line is before us, and is fortified with all the bells and whistles. Three well performed attacks are knocked off by the Russians. Indeed, that is not the way to do it!
    It appears that there are problems at HQ, as things are not going as planned. There are changes in the command structure, and a few generals are exchanged. The number of casualties is just not in balance with our success. I really do not like this shit.
    5 August: We are digging in. There is heavy artillery fire all day long. Under the cover of night we are able to get closer to the line of bunkers. Thank goodness everything goes well and without much notice by the enemy.
    We take position without much fighting in the Glewacha Forest at about midnight. Everything must be dug into the ground by morning. The bunker cannons and the Caucasian snipers snub out anyone who can be seen in the daylight.
    6 August: Heavy fire starts as expected around 0500 hours. I am sitting in B-position [ beobachter , or observer] and am able to see our impending doom as no one else can. The sap [short trench dug from the front-trench] is right at the edge of the forest. From here, the terrain slopes gently down to the Weta River. That damn river looks like it will drink a lot of blood (perhaps mine too). Behind the river is an enormous anti-tank trench filled with barbed wire.
    Well camouflaged bunkers line the trench. The firing is coming from them. Death is rolling toward us. A crushing wall of fire crawls slowly, very slowly, up the hill. These schweine shoot with a precision that could have only been learned through intensive training. Halfway up the hill, the firewall now reaches a tree-covered farmhouse. Cracking and splintering is heard when tree branches, wooden beams, and bricks go swirling through the air. The stinking firewall moves on.
    Do not lose your nerves now, Hannes! I estimate that death will be arriving any minute now. Everybody has been warned. We claw our fingers into the dirt. We have sweat on our forehead out of fear. God, if we were at least able to defend ourselves! And then all hell breaks loose. There is a howling, an enormous roar, thundering, cracking, and the humming of thousands of splinters.
    Foul-smelling smoke floods into our trenches. Did this last seconds or minutes? I cannot say. I pull my nose carefully out of the dirt to see that the firewall has moved on. I remain deaf for minutes. There is something wet on my face—blood! Thank goodness it is just a scratch. Our position is in chaos. The tree trunks we used for cover have been torn to shreds. Portions of the trenches have been filled back up with dirt. One position received a direct hit. Two comrades were killed and three were wounded. Overall, we are lucky; it could have gone worse.
    This afternoon, artillery is brought into position in the forest to our rear. There are many cannons in addition to some mammoth calibers, which are probably mortars that will be used here for the very first time. The new cannons are hidden from view of us soldiers. Night falls and single shells are fired toward the enemy positions. One could call it a trial run. It is nice that our barbarians are letting us hear something from them.
    We receive orders to attack tomorrow at around 2300 hours. My God, that is going to be tough. And to be honest, I am sick of it.
    7 August: Officers are standing next to the long-barrel cannons, howitzers, mortars, and grenade launchers. They pressure the crews by staring at their wristwatches. The short hand is going in circles… The final minute has just started; it