The details were simply too unsavory, too disgusting.It was raining when my replacement arrived. I shouldered the wireless, picked up my rifle, and started on my way back. As usual I didn’t walk inside the narrow zigzag trenches but rather up top, through the hip-high grass. I didn’t enjoy having to maneuver my wireless through those cramped subterranean passageways, and I hoped that the Russians on the other side of the river wouldn’t notice me, what with the rain and the falling dusk.At first all went well, and I was making good time. When I had put approximately three of the six kilometers’ distance behind me, a few scattered shots flew in my direction, but not so close that I considered seeking cover. Shortly thereafter, though, a machine gun set its sights on me, and I sprang as fast as I could into an artillery crater.Because of the heavy wireless on my back, I fell facedown into a horrible stinking mass—a rotting horse cadaver.At first I couldn’t find a hold in the soft mush threaded with bones.
