It was a direct hit onto a bunker, and three others were left wounded. Needless to say, we were all generally tense during the shellings - but that didn't stop us form clapping and cheering whenever we heard a dud fall. Laughing was more to relieve the pressure and tension. I appreciated the bunkers greatly. Whenever we had to move, the thing I would miss most was my last bunker.
Bunkers bring to mind the miracle of the Earth.
The Earth nourishes us, protects us, and when we die, she envelopes us again. Friend or foe, all ultimately return to the Earth. During that period, Night merged into Day, and Day into Night. The days were hot and humid, and there was absolutely no wind to cool or sweating foreheads. My ears rang from the non-stop artillery shelling and gun fire.