The next night thunderous explosions awakened me. The whole bunker was shaking. The Germans placed pieces of field artillery adjacent to our bunker. We were in mortal danger, thought. The Russian Katiushas will surely hit us.
Life is so unpredictable.
After all the struggles for survival to die from a Russian Katiusha is ironically tragic. But we were lucky. After a few hours the shooting subsided, and in the strange silence we heard a Russian song. Slowly, I crawled to the vent pipe, and I could not believe my ears. I heard Russian voices.