I arrived in Gabrje Gornje around midnight and fetched the men. Nothing special took place here, with the exception of some squabbling with Hungarian Telephone troops. Likewise, nothing special came to pass on the way back with the men, that is of course, if one ignored the countless strong and choicely rare curses which broke loose from the lips of the Jäger.

Having again arrived back at the Tunnel, I dutifully handed the men over to the Battailonsadjudanten, and then disappeared to again take place in the Tunnel, which someone else had occupied during my absence. But I was ruthless enough to fling him down from that portion the wooden framework that was mine, and again occupy my place. Naturally, I quickly fell into a bear's slumber, from which I wouldn't be awakened again until the next afternoon--that is, the afternoon of the day namely when it was commanded:

"Fourth Kompagnie keep battle alert!"

I slung my rifle and gathered my little horde outside, or as one may want to say, behind the Tunnel. However, there wouldn't be anything in the way of a battle engagement on this day, for they didn't require anything more of us.

It   wasn't too long before night time came that we took up the duties Reserve Kompanien. That is, the carrying of food and drink to the men in the firing line, the filling of sandbags, the repairing and adjusting of the bulwarks, the burying of the dead, and other such similar things. These tasks were extremely laborious; however, I will spare myself from having to describe them as this would be time consuming and of little interest. Around midnight we received our rations as usual.

The morning came and we had to again steal ourselves into the firing line. "Good God, receive my young life with favor" we each thought to ourselves. I even spoke it out loud. "Up the stairs! Up! Up!" cried the Oberleutnant, yet he was barely audible amidst the hellish noise of the enemy's rapid firing Artillerie, which was so loud that his otherwise very good voice of command was outdone by all the crackling. A half Zug from one of the other Kompanien, the 2^nd I believe, led by a Unterjäger, ran up to the wooden step which led up over a rocky precipice and into the threatened position. "Up! Up!" he cried--more to himself, I believe, than to his men. He ran, followed by a Schwarm of his Jäger, blindly up towards the position through the obstacle of the exploding shrapnel that the Welschen had placed in the way. Hiu, Hiu, Hiu-prem, prem, came the shots as they howled up there and whistled smack into the crowd of men who were just preparing to exit from the upper portion of the steps. There came a simultaneous crying out and five torn and tattered bodies fell back down the steps, tearing with them several others who were about to make their way up, and finally plunged with a huge splash into the pool of Morass which stretched itself out in front of the foot of the steps. Sanitätler ran to them there--but it was in vain. The rest of the half Zug commenced to dissolve itself, and there then remained only the dead; those who had been hit and thereby "redeemed", and those who had been dragged back along. Into the midst of the bloody turmoil, the Oberleutnant again cried "Up! Up! Up!" and thus once again the balance of the half Zug sprang forth and up the stairs. Hardly every other one made it to the position.

"Unterjager Pölzer, up the stairs with the 1st and 2nd Schwarm!" the Oberleutnant commanded. I shouted to my men that they should pass over the steps into the position one at a time, as otherwise, it would have gone the same for us as it had before with the other. I then flew up the stairs, as three shrapnel shells again cracked into the top of the steps, just in front of me. I scurried through the foul cloud of powder smoke and was again in the front line. Naturally, I immediately threw myself down to the ground. Behind me I could hear my men hastening up to me. I shouted to them to lie down to my left. Nearly every other one was hit on the way up.

I now became entirely unaware of anything. This seemed to me to be like a Grammophone record on which life itself had been loudly scratched. I felt no trace of anxiousness nor fear of death, no thought of God nor the eternity, nor anything else that would otherwise lead my memory to bring thoughts of death before my eyes. I acted instinctively, in that I pulled out my spade and began to dig ceaselessly and laboriously, with my head pressed down to the ground. How difficult it went! The earth was thoroughly interwoven with clothing, human shreds, rifle debris, and pieces of iron. These things were all over the place and continually hampered the penetration of my space. Moreover, there is no way to relate how difficult this work was for me, as my right wrist isn't very strong and is quickly exhausted because of a bone break that didn't heal properly. It wasn't long before I came upon yet even another obstacle. I had struck onto a corpse with this strenuous digging. Not that I shuddered with its presence, since such feelings weren't suitable for the moment and were only spasmodically deposited into my helpless mind and soul. I was merely annoyed by this obstacle, which as again restricting my spade. I had no other choice than to unearth and take out the corpse. After some time of much exertion, I had, I hoped, scraped away enough earth so as to be able to extract the dead man. I carefully knelt myself up, that is, I supported myself with my right knee on one edge of this excavation and my left knee on the other, so that the corpse came to lay between my feet. Then I grabbed at him. My heavens, this guy was heavy! I pulled and tore, and tore and pulled so much that the shattered ribs of the dead man were crackling and grinding. Of course I wasn't able to bring him out, so I decided to stand up in order to be able to employ more strength. Thus I exposed myself to the Welschen down below, but with that I succeeded. I rolled the cadaver out in front of me in such a way to improve the little bit of cover that I already had. But as I then looked back into the pit -- Heaven help! -- there lay inside yet another corpse. I was only able to see it then, after I had removed the first that had laid over it. Even as I was still considering whether I should pull it out too, there pfiffed over there from the flank --sississississi--. As quick as lightning I threw myself into the hole on top of the other corpse. It was already fully seized by decay and as I lay with my weight completely on it, there gushed out onto my body a most putrid excrement through a bullet hole in the dead man. There was nothing I could do. I had to remain lying in this hole because the enemy machine gun didn't cease firing at our flank. Damn, the shots were barely zipping over my back, and every moment there howled a man had been hit. Naturally, there wasn't any helping the poor devils, since anyone who raised himself up was instantly peppered by bullets. One man went to turn himself onto his other side, but even though his twist was lightning quick, he still caught three bullets in his shoulder. This continuous fire lasted surely an hour, although the time that I spent on this swollen, draining, and gurgling cadaver whose black skin was already beginning to loosen itself from skull, seemed to last a thousand eternities. There simply aren't words and sentences that are sufficient for the portrayal of such hideousness.