1942/September/en: Unterschied zwischen den Versionen
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The next morning, after learning the location of my battalion, I continued by train and got off at ''NN''<ref>probably {{wen|Landivisiau}}, possibly also {{wen|Landerneau}}, cf. the following footnote</ref>, where I see Sergeant Nadler just passing by with the opposite train. He is going on leave. After a long walk I then reach '''Pont Neuf'''<ref>There are many places called "Pont Neuf". The most probable is [https://www.google.de/maps/@48.465,-4.076,15z near Loclémar] south of Landivisiau, two others [https://www.google.de/maps/@48.512,-4.303,15z near Ploudaniel] north of Landerneau, thus strictly speaking already outside the division's accommodation area, which according to Benary p. 108 is bounded by Landerneau and Landivisiau. All others are too far outside. However, special trains for soldiers on leave from the front (SF trains) apparently did not stop at Landivisiau. If the author used other trains, the journey is no longer traceable at all.</ref>, a small town where my company is located. | The next morning, after learning the location of my battalion, I continued by train and got off at ''NN''<ref>probably {{wen|Landivisiau}}, possibly also {{wen|Landerneau}}, cf. the following footnote</ref>, where I see Sergeant Nadler just passing by with the opposite train. He is going on leave. After a long walk I then reach '''Pont Neuf'''<ref>There are many places called "Pont Neuf". The most probable is [https://www.google.de/maps/@48.465,-4.076,15z near Loclémar] south of Landivisiau, two others [https://www.google.de/maps/@48.512,-4.303,15z near Ploudaniel] north of Landerneau, thus strictly speaking already outside the division's accommodation area, which according to Benary p. 108 is bounded by Landerneau and Landivisiau. All others are too far outside. However, special trains for soldiers on leave from the front (SF trains) apparently did not stop at Landivisiau. If the author used other trains, the journey is no longer traceable at all.</ref>, a small town where my company is located. | ||
| − | I live in a real bedroom. Next door lives a young woman whose husband is a German POW. She has just received news from him that he is expected to return home soon. The young woman is happy and thinks that if the Germans did '''that''', it would be a very philanthropic gesture. Indeed, the man came home a few days later. If I am rightly informed, this release was to be in gratitude for the fact that the French people had behaved so correctly in a neutral manner during the British landing attempt at Dieppe | + | I live in a real bedroom. Next door lives a young woman whose husband is a German POW. She has just received news from him that he is expected to return home soon. The young woman is happy and thinks that if the Germans did '''that''', it would be a very philanthropic gesture. Indeed, the man came home a few days later. If I am rightly informed, this release was to be in gratitude for the fact that the French people had behaved so correctly in a neutral manner during the [[w:en:Dieppe Raid|British landing attempt at Dieppe]]. |
[[File:1942-07-25 Ostmedaille.jpg|thumb|<span class="TgbD" id=""></span>Award certificate of the Eastern Medal<ref name=Ostmedaille/>]] | [[File:1942-07-25 Ostmedaille.jpg|thumb|<span class="TgbD" id=""></span>Award certificate of the Eastern Medal<ref name=Ostmedaille/>]] | ||
| − | Today, in the orderly room, I am officially presented with the '''Eastern Medal''' with award certificate<ref name=Ostmedaille>The still existing certificate was only issued on {{Da|1943/August/21/en}} in the Bad Schandau reserve hospital</ref>. It is actually called the "Medal for the Winter Battle in the East 1941/42, in combat against Bolshevism". In simple parlance "Eastern Medal" and in brash Landser jargon "Frozen Meat Order". | + | Today, in the orderly room, I am officially presented with the '''{{wen|Eastern Medal}}''' with award certificate<ref name=Ostmedaille>The still existing certificate was only issued on {{Da|1943/August/21/en}} in the Bad Schandau reserve hospital</ref>. It is actually called the "Medal for the Winter Battle in the East 1941/42, in combat against Bolshevism". In simple parlance "Eastern Medal" and in brash Landser jargon "Frozen Meat Order". |
We do a company exercise every week and a battalion exercise every fortnight. Since it rains a lot here, we usually get very wet. Especially the battalion exercises have all been rained out so far. During one of these exercises, I was assigned to lead the machine-gun company by the battalion leader<ref>Further on, his name is given as Captain Glaser</ref>. Already during the march I was terribly ticked off by the battalion leader because the spades on the vehicles were not cleaned. He couldn't think of anything better. He was desperately looking for a reason to give me a dressing down. In the evening we all sat together again peacefully when dinner in the mess was over. (As an officer aspirant sergeant, I was with the officer corps on many on and off duty occasions). But my company leader, Max Müller, could not refrain from making a saucy remark about the spades, to my comfort and to the annoyance of the battalion leader. "You see," he said to me, "a battalion leader can't see everything at once either, so during the inspection he looks at the machine guns today and the spades tomorrow. Then he always finds something to criticise. Because that's how you do it!" And then he grins mischievously. The battalioner<ref>Landser slang for battalion leader or battalion commander</ref> does not say a word. | We do a company exercise every week and a battalion exercise every fortnight. Since it rains a lot here, we usually get very wet. Especially the battalion exercises have all been rained out so far. During one of these exercises, I was assigned to lead the machine-gun company by the battalion leader<ref>Further on, his name is given as Captain Glaser</ref>. Already during the march I was terribly ticked off by the battalion leader because the spades on the vehicles were not cleaned. He couldn't think of anything better. He was desperately looking for a reason to give me a dressing down. In the evening we all sat together again peacefully when dinner in the mess was over. (As an officer aspirant sergeant, I was with the officer corps on many on and off duty occasions). But my company leader, Max Müller, could not refrain from making a saucy remark about the spades, to my comfort and to the annoyance of the battalion leader. "You see," he said to me, "a battalion leader can't see everything at once either, so during the inspection he looks at the machine guns today and the spades tomorrow. Then he always finds something to criticise. Because that's how you do it!" And then he grins mischievously. The battalioner<ref>Landser slang for battalion leader or battalion commander</ref> does not say a word. | ||
Version vom 22. August 2022, 21:30 Uhr
| GEO & MIL INFO | ||||
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| 12 or 13: Departure in Berlin 13.: –Troyes |
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| 14: –Le Mans? (directing centre, butchery platoon) |
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| 15: –Landivisiau, Pont Neuf |
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| or Landerneau, Pont Neuf |
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| from 22 Aug: Transfer of the division to Brittany[1] | ||||
| XXV. A.K. | 7. A. | |||
| CG: Gen d Art Fahrmbacher[2],WP | CinC: GenOb DollmannWP | |||
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End of leave. Return to the unit.[4] In Troyes I have to change trains, but can only continue the next day. So I occupy a place in the Wehrmachtovernight quarters and then go for a stroll through town. On a large square there is a funfair with a swing, a merry-go-round, shooting galleries and music, which had attracted me. Between the stalls and tents, French youth and German soldiers swarmed. Gilberte Müller is also there, a Frenchwoman with flaxen hair and blue eyes. Probably of Alsatian descent. I can’t resist this colour combination in a girl. We go to her parents’ flat and then stay together until nightfall. It is pitch dark and foggy when I say goodbye to her and then stalk along a canal to the overnight accommodation.
In NN[5] I have to get off again to inquire at the directing centre about the current location of my battalion. Due to my forced stay in Troyes, I had used up my march rations and was now feeling ravenously hungry. I didn't get any more at the Wehrmacht quarters, because the march rations point had already closed. (That wretched stage bureaucracy!) It had become dark in the meantime, and I decided to look for night quarters first. While I was wandering around, I passed a barrack in which I saw Landsers sitting in the lit rooms. I went inside and asked if they had a bed available for me. They immediately invited me to sit down and soon a lively conversation was underway. When I told them about my hunger, they went to their lockers and took out what they had left: Halves of army bread and sausages a mile long. I had ended up at a butchery platoon!
The next morning, after learning the location of my battalion, I continued by train and got off at NN[6], where I see Sergeant Nadler just passing by with the opposite train. He is going on leave. After a long walk I then reach Pont Neuf[7], a small town where my company is located.
I live in a real bedroom. Next door lives a young woman whose husband is a German POW. She has just received news from him that he is expected to return home soon. The young woman is happy and thinks that if the Germans did that, it would be a very philanthropic gesture. Indeed, the man came home a few days later. If I am rightly informed, this release was to be in gratitude for the fact that the French people had behaved so correctly in a neutral manner during the British landing attempt at Dieppe.
Today, in the orderly room, I am officially presented with the Eastern Medal with award certificate[8]. It is actually called the "Medal for the Winter Battle in the East 1941/42, in combat against Bolshevism". In simple parlance "Eastern Medal" and in brash Landser jargon "Frozen Meat Order".
We do a company exercise every week and a battalion exercise every fortnight. Since it rains a lot here, we usually get very wet. Especially the battalion exercises have all been rained out so far. During one of these exercises, I was assigned to lead the machine-gun company by the battalion leader[9]. Already during the march I was terribly ticked off by the battalion leader because the spades on the vehicles were not cleaned. He couldn't think of anything better. He was desperately looking for a reason to give me a dressing down. In the evening we all sat together again peacefully when dinner in the mess was over. (As an officer aspirant sergeant, I was with the officer corps on many on and off duty occasions). But my company leader, Max Müller, could not refrain from making a saucy remark about the spades, to my comfort and to the annoyance of the battalion leader. "You see," he said to me, "a battalion leader can't see everything at once either, so during the inspection he looks at the machine guns today and the spades tomorrow. Then he always finds something to criticise. Because that's how you do it!" And then he grins mischievously. The battalioner[10] does not say a word.
During the next exercise, the battalioner gets a sharp talking-to from the general because the deployment didn't work out.
During the third exercise, the battalion leader has got his teeth into me again. On a hill he hands me a map and demands a situation assessment. I complete this task in a very school-like manner and he finds no reason to criticise me. He had in fact made the mistake of letting his adjutant in on his intention to examine me. The adju, who likes me well, then had nothing more urgent to do than to inform me of this intention.
The battalion adjutant, Lieutenant Gawletta[11], has only recently joined us. He is tall, slim, blond and a Catholic theology student by profession.
We have finished a two-day regimental exercise. Wartime river crossing and forming a bridgehead. It had been raining again, of course. After the river crossing, we first fortified ourselves with a pea soup at the field kitchen with our shelter halves hung around us. One of the purposes of the exercises is, of course, to train the leaders and sub-leaders. When I consider it in retrospect, they also put me under quite a microscope.
One of our officers told me that in the battalion's officer corps my promotion to lieutenant has been discussed. This officer is also new to the battalion, a very young lieutenant out of the HJ, of an open, friendly nature. I learn from him that the battalion commander is against my promotion, while all the other officers, without exception, had stood up for me. My company leader, Max Müller, and the battalion adjutant spoke out particularly energetically in my favour.
Just now that lieutenant tells me again: "This afternoon there was another terrible row at the battalion because of you. Harsh words were spoken!"
Today we are gathered in the room shortly before lunch. I stand at the window and look out, lost in thought. The other officers are standing around in groups in the room. There Max Müller approaches me, taps me on the shoulder and says unexpectedly: "Herbert, you're a swell guy!" I was so surprised that I didn't know what to answer and just smiled stupidly at him. Of course I was very pleased by this spontaneous expression of sympathy, but it was typical of me that I couldn't even find a few friendly words of reply, in my lack of spontaneous responsiveness.
Today I happened to have the opportunity to take a look at my personnel file. It lay - deliberately? - open on the table in the company office. I read my evaluation: "... decent... proven as a platoon leader in the attack.... shows prudence and determination in defence..." Unfortunately, that's all I kept, but it was all positive.
It is the time of fruit ripening. The fallen fruit lies en masse in the gardens and on the paths. My orderly has collected a whole wash bucket full, so we always have fruit in the house. Recently I passed a garden where some Frenchmen were harvesting fruit. There, an old mother beckons me to stop. Then she comes to the fence and presses a particularly beautiful apple into my hand. I thank her very much and am more pleased by this symbolic gesture than by the apple.
On my walks through the village, I often pass a garden where a young, very chicly dressed woman is resting in a deck chair reading. One day I simply walk through the front garden to her and start a conversation under a pretext. I learn that she is from Paris and is spending her holidays here. She is not pretty at all, by the way, and so I confine myself to conversation.
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- ↑ into the area Chateaulin–eastern part of Crozon peninsula–Landerneau–Landivisieau (Benary p. 108); I.R. 477 was obviously transferred only during the author's leave, i. e. after 30 Aug but well before 14 Sep
- ↑ LdW, Benary p. 110: Div in area north of Morlaix–Brest–Crozon peninsula
- ↑ Benary p. 109
- ↑ The author apparently wanted to go via Troyes to Mailly-le-Camp because he did not know that the regiment had been transferred to Brittany in the meantime. He would not have gone directly to Brittany via Troyes. He had to plan a good 24 hours for this journey. In order to be present on the 14th at the start of duty (if that was the rule at the time), he had to leave Berlin on the 12th in the evening or early in the morning on the 13th. No further clues emerge from the timetable. The dates remain so uncertain that no separate wiki articles can be created for them.
- ↑ The most likely place is Le Mans, where the presumably used train arrived at 23:21.
- ↑ probably Landivisiau, possibly also Landerneau, cf. the following footnote
- ↑ There are many places called "Pont Neuf". The most probable is near Loclémar south of Landivisiau, two others near Ploudaniel north of Landerneau, thus strictly speaking already outside the division's accommodation area, which according to Benary p. 108 is bounded by Landerneau and Landivisiau. All others are too far outside. However, special trains for soldiers on leave from the front (SF trains) apparently did not stop at Landivisiau. If the author used other trains, the journey is no longer traceable at all.
- ↑ 8,0 8,1 The still existing certificate was only issued on 21.8.43 in the Bad Schandau reserve hospital
- ↑ Further on, his name is given as Captain Glaser
- ↑ Landser slang for battalion leader or battalion commander
- ↑ according to Gravesearch online and vita of the U-boat commander and later Benedictine priest Gabriel, Leo Maria Gawletta undoubtedly the latter's older brother Alban Gawletta