Personal Finnish War Stories

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Lotvonen
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Joined: 25 Jun 2007, 12:17
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Re: Personal Finnish War Stories

#31

Post by Lotvonen » 17 Apr 2016, 16:32

We shall not surrender, boys!
By Hugo Kujala
Journal “KansaTaisteli” Vol.3, 1958

(This incident happened in December 1942 at the region on Homorovitsa – Juksova about in the middle of Olonez isthmus. The author belonged to JR29.)

I
We were the AT and anti-gas men of the 1st company and we were placed in the IV Platoon. We manned the stronghold at the seam of JR8 and JR29. (It was the period of trench warfare, tr.rem.)

The terrain was quite hilly and covered by sparse forest. Since our stronghold was estimated to be quite exposed and thus unsafe as well by our commanders as ourselves, five men from the 5th Company that was in reserve were sent to complement us. Our total number had been 12 men, we were led by Sgt. Karvonen.

Our stronghold was called “Susi” (Wolf), and the wolf was indeed about to swallow us later. But it was much due to the Susi that all of us did not get killed. Our dugout was not a “modern” one as the dugouts used to be by that date. They had been upgraded, even with the help of competitions. Ours was primitive. We slept on boards placed on bare soil, the floor comprised a one meter deep trench. The walls and specially the roof were very strong.

Our constant worry was the 300 to 400 m wide unoccupied swamp between us and JR8. There was a wire but it was secured only by observation. In the night visual observation was felt to be quite inadequate. Finally we managed to get orders to set up a nightly contact patrol once an hour from each side respectively.

It was a period of “economizing campaing”. We were told to shoot as little as possible with any kinds of weapons. It was said that to get artillery support a fairly high-up officer would have to accept. We had heard for several weeks how the enemy activities near the front line had constantly increased. There appeared to be great movement of material and troops. They were building up their positions and lodgings. They carried out battle training just in the vicinity of the front line. In the evenings we used to hear the noises of entertainment and propaganda sessions. We reported our findings to the command post and asked that our artillery should remind the enemy that there is a war. Our reports and requests were always answered by letting us know that there shall not be any shooting before the enemy attacks our positions.

II
27 December 1942 evening. It was a bad weather. Stormy wind ripped at the trees and howled so that the sentries could not trust their hearing. The darkness was total due to thick cloud. In the course of the evening the Battalion HQ contacted us asking for any new information. But there were no signs of life on the enemy side. We were advised to be extremely careful and increase the number of sentries. We had already decided to post double sentries for the night. The risk was so obvious that nobody grumbled even though most of us had to do double two-hour duties during the night.

Now the sentries whose turn was to “fear” starting at 0600 hrs had been woken up and they were getting ready. At this date there were standing orders, maybe in accordance with the economizinfg campaing, not to keep the weapons inside the dugout. We, too, had built a shelter for our weapons. Pvt. Aarre Jukkola had already told us “let's go and check if our “brides” are OK”. He was the first one to go and pick up his weapon from the shelter. But as soon as he opened the door he was met by an angry SMG fire. Our lamp went out, it was equally dark inside and outside. Sparks were flying at the dugout door and rear wall as the enemy SMG bullets hit them.

It is self evident that this kind of reveille for eight sleepers and four awake ones was so harsh that it cannot be put in words. Fortunately the corridor to our dugout was so narrow that it provided only a narrow field of fire inside. Consequently only one of us was hit, Pvt. Humalalampi was hit in the head. We thought, of course that he would have been killed after being hit by a burst of bullets. But we heard a moment later how he said in a clear voice: “ we are not going to surrender, boys!”

At the very moment I remembered my autoloading rifle: I had cleaned it after my sentry duty but I had placed it out of the dugout, in the corridor. My movements were quick as I crawled on all fours to the dugout door and then in the corridor where I at once managed to grab the rifle. I turned the loaded weapon at the enemy as best I could in the total darkness. My firing appeared to create confused noise among the enemies crowding in front ot the door of our dugout.

There was also noise in our dugout. The twelve of us yelled for help in one voice from our neighbouring strongholds. I have heard it said that a drowning man sees his entire life at the last moments before dying. I remember how the shorf film of my life flashed in my eyes in the darkness of the dugout. It ended with the question: “Should it all be ended here and now?” The enemy still tried to storm our dugout, throwing hand grenades and yelling “uraa”. However, I had a good position as I was shooting through the small window of our dugout with my rifle and preventing the enemy from dashing in. Hand grenades kept coming, even into the dugout. We survived because they exploded in the floor trench and we were on the boards along the walls.

Then the enemies detected the stove chimney in the roof of the dugout. They shoved in a hand grenade that blew up the stove. We had to block the hole of the chimney as soon as possible. The lads stuffed in rolled greatcoats using the boards we had been sleeping on.

The dawn was breaking as I spotted movement just in front of the dugout behind a snow bank, three meters from my shooting position. It was an enemy who crept in the cover of the snow bank to try to take out me and my weapon who had prevented them from dashing in our dugout for several hours. I could not see more than some of his helmet as he approached very slowly and carefully. Yet it was me who had the upper hand as the enemy could not see in the darkness down here where I had pointed my weapon at him. I was not able to shoot yet because I could not see enough of the target, and I could not afford to miss. But now, the enemy begins to rise up slowly. I can see his shoulder, and a black fur coat collar. Now I can see the forehead under the helmet rim, and as I saw his black brows I squeezed the trigger. Immediately he dropped out of sight. As soon as our positions had been retaken I checked my kill. He was a Lieutenant, clutching a hand grenade in his stiff fingers.

III
Now we in the dugout were at the end of our tether. The enemy had kept using hand grenades on our roof and there had also been louder explosions. The hole in the roof was by now so big that we were not able to block it. At the same time the men at the rear of the dugout yelled that they were suffocating. All the grenades that had exploded in the dugout had filled the air with explosion gases to such an extent that we could but try to get out.

We had been planning our breakout for a while since we had not been getting help despite having been trapped for three hours already. Pvt. Jukkola volunteered to be the first to climb the stairs out, I told the others to stand by to follow as soon as we saw how Jukkola would fare. Having climbed the stairs he ran and the enemies started firing at him. Now the rest of us dashed out as fast as we could while the AT men used their pistols against the enemies standing closest. Our breakout was so successful that only two of us dropped in front of our dugout. One of them was Pvt. Humalalampi who had taken a SMG bullet through his head as the enemy attack had started. He probably was no more able to run due to his wound because the enemy had taken him just in front of the dugout. The last man out, Pvt. Mård, a little dazed, had seen how Humalalampi had been surrounded by enemies who had started beating him with their weapons. This brave man died there. Mård could also confirm the fate of the other killed man.

At our agreed rallying point we counted our number and were surprised to find that we had been able to escape from the trap. We had not dared to hope for it during the three hours under torture. Our situation was still miserable. We were seven men, half dressed only, at the edge of a roadless swamp covered by thick snow. Three of us only were not wounded, and one of us had suffered such a shock that he had to be carried. He came to three days later in a field hospital. Some of us were most seriously wounded. For example Pvt. Luomala had taken such a burst in his right arm that it had to be cut off in a field hospital. This brave man did not complain in any stage.

We had to set off to cross the kilometer wide swamp despite the state we found ourselves in. We knew that the field dressing station of JR8 would be somewhere there. We were ignorant of the general situation, because we had been surrounded by battle noise for those three hours. However, we estimated that Capt. Tirronen's excellent field artillery battalion was superior to the enemy. This idea gave us energy and generated a spark of hope: maybe we shall make it. We did make it, having laboriously waded in the snow reaching to our groin. Our paramedic NCO Mäntylä had marched barefoot and wounded by splinters.

IV
This incident was mentioned in the GHQ bulletin dated 29 Dec. 1942: “The enemy attacked with a Battalion force in the middle of Olonez isthmus. The enemies that had penetrated in our positions were destroyed in them immediately. Enemy losses were 150 men killed.”

(1792 words)

Lotvonen
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Re: Personal Finnish War Stories

#32

Post by Lotvonen » 27 Apr 2016, 06:16

"Open sky ahead only" - an airman story
Lauri Lamminpää
Kansa Taisteli vol. 03, 1958
(The author was an observer in Bomber Squadron L Lv46 during the Winter war, rank Lieutenant. This mission 10 March 1940. The base: Luonetjärvi AB. Aircraft: Bristol Blenhem Mk.IV. Gunner Mörsky's claim was not confirmed, however he had scored one on 1st March.)

I
During the first days of March 1940 the result of our Winter War was obvious. Despite the stiff resistance our troops who were tired and had suffered great losses in men had been forced to retreat in the main theater of the war , the Carellian Isthmus. It was on the Western Isthmus that the pressure was greatest. The roads on the area taken by the enemy were full of troops, transport columns and tanks heading for Viipuri. Long trains steamed from Leningrad to North and the enemy had crossed the ice and gained a bridgehead at Säkkijärvi coast. Being an observer in Bomber Squadron 46 I was able to watch the enemy offensive from a wide perspective. Even a young and hopeful Second Lieutenant had to believe the depressing truth: our game was up. The enemy appeared to have decided to end it quickly.

Our squadron had been equipped with medium heavy bombers considered as modern. The type was long-nosed Bristol Blenheim Mk.IV that we called “Pelti-Heikki” (Tin Henry). At 5000m it was supposed to have a maximum speed of 500 kmh. This for the period amazing speed was gained by using nine pounds of boost and 100 octane fuel. However, we were allowed to treat the engines of our aircraft with 100oct. only in emergency, because there was but a little of it available, and according to our Flight Commander Capt. Piponius it was more expensive than whisky.

Our new aircraft boosted our moral considerably. We were even a little proud of these state-of-the-art longnoses that the other squadrons did not have. But contrary to our expectations our Blenheims were cursed by misfortune: Within three weeks from becoming operational half of them were out of the game, shot down or damaged in forced landings. Air activities over the Isthmus had been intensified and the enemy fighters controlled the airspace. There were constantly hundreds of them in the air. A tin roof was created by them over the battleground, as airmen used to say with some exaggeration. Continuous good weather favoured them. We engaged enemy fighters nearly during every mission. If they managed to bounce on a single bomber the battle used to be brief and one-sided. The only chance to save our skin was to dive quickly to the deck and fly at the lowest possible altitude with maximum power.

It would have been nothing but madness for a clumsy bomber to engage nimble and well-armed fighter patrols. In the final weeks of the war the enemy started using even faster and nimbler fighters, which made it even more difficult for our bomber crews to save themselves using speed.

II
I had bad anticipations while waiting for my next mission that took place on 10 March. It was another cold and clear day. Our crew comprised me as Observer, Sec. Lt Lunnela as Pilot and Sgt. Mörsky as Gunner/radio operator. We were ordered to wait at the flight office for the mission instructions at any moment. Waiting is a dreary task and we tried to spend the hours by reading and chatting. Hours passed, no orders. Our banter was a bit forced for an unspoken reason: we could see a post card left on the desk. It had been addressed to Capt. Piponius. The message had been written by a child: “Greetings to Daddy and Kimmo!” Kimmo was the Captain's faithful dog. This card never reached its receiver who had flown his last mission this very day. We had lost a good Flight Leader and a good airman. We knew that the sender of the card had lost much more.

Finally late in the afternoon we received our mission orders. Our task was to reconnoitre railway traffic on the stretch Perkjärvi-Valkeasaari (Beloostrov). The return leg of our mission would be flown along the coast of Gulf of Finland, North of Kronstadt, past Seivästö lighthouse to Koivisto, finally across Bay of Viipuri to Säkkijärvi. This was considered to be the most sensible route because there were no enemy AA guns on the sea ice. Start at 1730 hrs meant that we would be able to fly our mission at the time of sunset and flying in increasing darkness would improve our chances to return.

We had more than one hour to prepare for takeoff. Heavy squadrons did not have to be prepared to “scramble” like fighter pilots. During the outbound leg of the mission we had good time to ponder our mission and the air warfare in general. When we were flying above the Saimaa lake system the sun was approaching the horizon, sharp as a line drawn by pencil in this kind of clear day. The airspace was empty around us. The visibility was good, even intolerablyl good. Technical Inspector Savela had said as we boarder our plane: “ I would give my monthly salary for a cloudy day”. A cloud layer means for bomber airmen the same as forest for our infantrymen: a chance to find cover. In a cloud a bomber may shake off enemy fighters and find refuge from AA fire.

Our mission meant that we would have to fly almost an hour above enemy territory and in these circumstances our chances to complete our duty could not be estimated high. The worst case woul be total destruction of aircraft with crew. Looking after your own safety is absolutely not the greatest military virtue: so you may think that it is unpatriotic to mention it here. To explain myself I must add that we had just a few bombers and trained bomber crews. We were not allowed to recklessly risk our mission, yet we had to follow our orders properly. Combining these two was not always easy ,and just there was our dilemma. How much better would we have been able to concentrate in our tasks if we had had fighter cover! Our fighters, however, had enough other more important duties.

III
Having crossed the Saimaa coast between Joutseno and Imatra we had to turn our attention to more mundane facts. Far ahead we began to see wisps of smoke and soon flames of fires on both sides of the meandering Vuoksi river. Both banks of the river had been the richest areas of the country but now there were only smoking ruins and dying fires where once towns, farmhouses and factories had been.

Soon we were above the front line. The soil had been ploughed black by shellfire showing how intense fighting had been. The enemy artillery was in action judging by the flashing on the ground. The noise of our engines suppressed any other sounds.

- Lively artillery fire, our taciturn gunner remarked in the style of official bulletins.
- More lively than usually, I opined.

Our conversation died as nobody had anything sensible to say, and banter at this stage of the mission was not convenient.

I took a glance at the pilot, he was scanning his sector of the airspace with his eyes. I knew that the gunner in his perspex dome was just as alert in watching the rear sector. Due to the high armour plate I could not see him. I kept a lookout ahead and to the right. Checking the map and comparing it with the terrain below for orientation kept me busy.

We crossed the front line between lakes Muolaanjärvi and Äyrapäänjärvi. At 2000m we could not define it exactly and it was being pulled rearwards anyway. This was one of the important se points of the mission: we were over enemy territory. I informed my crew, both of them responded with a grunt mainly to test our intercom. The pilot increased power setting a little, airspeed indicator climbed to near 400 kmh.

I never asked a battle proven airman what does it feel to fly in the enemy side, and nobody ever asked me. We do not talk about it, it is a void and uncomfortable question. One cannot answer it and does not want to even if one could.
(...)
Whatever state of mind an airman has over the enemy territory, there is one thing certain: he has sharpend his perception to the maximum. Vision is an airman's only sense to make observations with. One is able to make an astonishing quantity of observations in a short period. They are recorded in your mind in brief flashes and recalled during debriefing with the intelligence officer of the squadron.

IV
We passed lake Muolaanjärvi the ice of which had been shelled into a sieve and saw the railway line as a long black line. There was Perkjärvi station where our recce task started. There were a couple of long lines of wagons, a good bombing target, long and wide, a hit would have been certain. But we had orders to hit only a moving train, so I just could count or rather estimate the number of wagons. Sixty was my estimate, each different in colour and size. To me it looked like a display of the Soviet rolling stock, some appeared to be fit for a museum. I was contempted to grab the bomb release switch. If only...

Suddenly our bomber was buffeted strongly, an invisble force pushed it here and there.
- AA firing. Helluva explosions just behind us.
It was the gunner, his voice was distorted by his mic.

The pilot reacted at once. He turned tightly and pushed the nose down a little. To no avail since the gunner reported:
- The puffs keep following us.

The enemy AA guns were able to keep us under fire despite our evasive manouver. They had underestimated our speed for now because the shells kept exploding behind us. A small adjustment to shooting data and they could score a bullseye. There was no time for us to hesitate. The long glass nose of the Blenheim went down so fast that I was pushed up from my seat for a moment. We went downwards at top speed, the engines howled as the revs increased and our ears were blocked by the change of atmospheric pressure. The pilot recovered the plane gradually but our speed had been so great that the return to level flight was clearly felt. I slumped on my seat and all my body felt heavy as lead.

As the aircraft returned to level flight we were close to the treetops. Perkjärvi was far behind us, disengaging from the AA fire had been successful. We kept flying at low altitude, safe from AA guns. The furious AA fire had made us tense, which is not shameful to admit I think. Having survived with our skin whole our tension was relieved and we were talking cheerfully about the recent incident that had not been so bad after all, really. Just like a snowball fight in the school yard in our young days!

That may seem like bragging but it was far from it. It was just active defeating of feeling of fear, useful in a mission like ours.

V
However, our mission had really only started and we had to climb to see better the railway line. To avoid new AA surprises we gave some berth to Uusikirkko and Tyrisevä stations, they appeared to be quite inactive anyway. Now the railway ran in a straight line to the horizon near the coast. Suddenly the gunner broke the silence, saying: “Capital !”. I had to think for a while what he meant but then it dawned to me: it was Terijoki that we were approaching. It wa the seat of the People's Republic governed by Otto Ville Kuusinen. I felt some apprehension, capital cities usually are well stocked with AA defences. But we did not see one single puff, neither did we see fighters. We calmed down and found that the calmest capital of the world was below us, mostly in ruins however.

Valkeasaari station, our turning point, appeared at the horizon but no moving trains were seen. We had to attack one near Rajajoki. We had enough altitude, about 1000m. Seen from this altitude a railway line is a fairly narrow target, and if one drops all bombs in one series while following the rail line, all of them are likely to miss the target. With our bombsight we were not able to hit a bucket as some bomber hero claimed to have done at Kauhava a/b during training. A railway line must be bombed by flying across it in an oblique angle to make it more likely that at least one bomb hits it. This is what I set out to attempt. I set up my bombsight and instructed the pilot, then an intense moment of waiting for me at my bombsight. Bomber targets are usually defended by AA and it was just this moment as the speed and direction of the aircraft had to stay constant that was most opportune to the enemy. I held my thumb on the bomb release swithc. Just a second, not quite yet, standby, go! Red indicator lamps turned on one by one with brief intervals as the bombs were released.

I was thrilled watching the small black dots getting smaller while falling down. Once again they appeared to miss the target. Now the first one exploded, it was a short one. The second one hit the rail line squarely. I cheered aloud. The third one hit the embankment but that was all I could see. The bomber banked steeply and I dropped on my knees on the deck. I struggled to my seat and just had time to spot a jet of tracers missing us to the left. Small black puffs burst out in the same direction.
- Just 20mm!
The gunner appeared to be annoyed. - Do they really think that they are going to get us with a peashooter?

I think it was as well that the pilot had reacted fast, the burst had been well aimed and it was easy to get out of the range of a small caliber battery.

We headed to the white open frozen plain of the Gulf of Finland via Siestarjoki (Sestroretsk). The battery fired some bursts after us to say goodbye, they exploded far behind.

VI
Our recce mission had been accomplished but we could not yet breathe out: the return leg was ahead of us. The enemy air surveillance had spotted us which did not bode good. We were too close to Leningrad for comfort, there were several fighter bases around it. We could see the immenslely wide city behind us to the left, we had climbed to 3000m and our course was W. Right to the left we saw the forts of Kronstadt in the rays of the setting sun. The silhouettes of the fortifications held our attention for a second although we were not sight-seeing.

The sun was just about to sink behind the horizon in the West, it seemed to be unnaturally large and gloomily reddish. It blinded our eyes. We were getting restless, this kind of lighting conditions were ideal for surprise attack from that direction – and there was one!

Suddenly several perspex panes were burst in the cockpit and jets of traces almost swept the fuselage. We were in the middle of a lively rain of bullets. A big hole was torn in the left wing near the fuselage. It all had happened so fast that only now we were startled. Again bullets beat the aluminum skin of the bomber. We cowered on our seats, instinctively. Wherefrom are we being shot at? We got wiser one second later. With a whoosh six enemy fighters passed overhead on opposite course. They had attacked from the sun totally surprising us. Now we found ourselves in a tough spot

- They are pulling a chandelle and coming back, the gunner reported

But that was not all. I glanced to the right and spotted above us another strong fighter patrol diving at us. I informed the pilot and the gunner continued:
- Six fighters to the left and three right behind.

We were almost surrounded. There was free sky just in front of us and we yearned to get there. I and the pilot exchanged a glance, there was neither need nor time for a palaver. We dived almost vertically down to the white open ice. It was difficult to determine where the surface was and for a moment I thought we would crash through the ice. But the pilot recovered the bomber so fast that my breath was blocked and I saw stars. Now we were flying really low, scarcely at ten meters. Quicky the pilot switched the fuel cocks to 100 octane and applied nine pounds of boost. A furious race started. Our engines were howling like sirens but we were not able to shake the enemy off.

- Three fighters following us...approaching...distance 200 meters...100 meters...now they fire!

The gunner reported fairly tranquilly. Again a burst pattered in the wings and fuselage, and something that I had feared, happened. The fuel tank behind the right engine was holed at the top. Any leaking fuel could be ignited by the hot exhaust pipe next to it. Fortunately the fuel in the tank was low and nothing happened. Having calmed down from this scare I felt a blow at my shoulders. My seat back armour had stopped a bullet that would have killed me.

Our gunner kept firing brief bursts at our pursuers but as the patter of his MG stopped I asked him what was the matter. No answer. I peeked to the rear over my armour plate but another jet of tracers made me duck. Soon I asked again and now he answered:
-The dome has been broken and I took a blow on my head. I must have been dazed some. They have fallen behind a little. I shall try to shoot again.

The MG started rattling again and suddenly the cool gunner yelled:
- One caught fire and fell on the ice!

That was really a piece of good news.

Our tense state of mind was relaxed and we began to believe that we had left the dangers behind. But there were still two pursuers that kept reminding us with their jets of tracers that we should not be too self-sure. However they kept falling behind and as we passed the church of Koivisto in the dusk of the evening, the gunner reported:
- They are turning away. They must have run out of ammo.

VII
Finally we were rid of our tormentors. The ten minutes of flying under constant enemy fire was now like a passed nightmare that did not much affect our jolly conversation. As we arrived at our base it was already in total darkness. After touch-down the aircraft suddenly veered across the runway and was about to nose over. One undercarriage tire had been shot up. Having climbed out of the bomber we shook hands. That was not what we used to do but now it somehow was a natural thing to do. The gunner removed his headgear and his scalp was bloodied. The “poison bus” took him for treatment, his wound was found to be quite light.

- They parted my hair, the gunner diagnosed.

Next day we tried to count the bullet holes to help the aircraft inspector. We were not able to determine the exact number because the aluminium skin was badly torn at places. Some of the turret ribs had been blown away.

This mission has remained in my memory as the most powerful experience of the wars, although as an Observer I was just a passenger in tough situations. It was the skill of the pilot and the gunner that saved the day. In the Continuation War I flew as a pilot, but none of those missions are comparable to this one.

(3348 words)


Lotvonen
Member
Posts: 814
Joined: 25 Jun 2007, 12:17
Location: Finland

Re: Personal Finnish War Stories

#33

Post by Lotvonen » 02 May 2016, 07:22

”To heck with your enemies” – a patrol skirmish
Leni Hoffren
Journal “Kansa Taisteli” vol.5/6, 1958

( An episode in 1942 at Lake Onega. The author appears to have been a Sergeant in the AT squadron (company) of Uusimaa Dragoon Regiment [URR] )

I
-Hey, you support, protector and prop of fatherland!
-Shut up, you! Can't you see who is sitting here: a sentry of the Greater Finland, and don't you know, sergeant sir, that in the first line you are supposed to say the password or maybe get shot?
-Give me a burst if you feel like it. By the way, a Swedish patrol (=ethnic Swedes with deficient Finnish language skills, tr.rem.) is coming, now you are informed. They are led by a Lieut, I saw them go during my stint. See ya!
-See you too. Make some surrogate coffee for me too, will you, I am not going to stay here for much longer any more.

Then skis hissed on frosty snow and vanished over the snow bank behind me to the houses where we were lodging.

II
There was the frozen Lake Onega in front of me, wide as any sea. I had been keeping lookout in gloomy darkness on the glacier for some time before our patrol had arrived, shivering with cold. What sense did it make to have sentries here, it is the officers' ideas, we used to grumble every night before dutifullly strolling into our sentry pit. Here, at our stronghold, a gap had been left in the minefield. It was the only route to the ice. We maintained regular liaison patrols by skiing between our strongholds.

Karhumäki (Medvezhegorsk) town was there far off to the left at the far end of two bays, and at the same distance to the left there was the gray Tulvoja village. Our beach securing stronghold called Sunskipori was situated in between. Our task was actually simple: keeping guard and patrolling to each flank up to the abovementioned places

Again Moon was visible between ragged clouds and its bleak light illuminated the ice field in front of me. The shadows of the beachline trees were long on the snow banks as cold wind kept sweeping over me. It was minus tirty degrees centigrade, that put out every romantic idea in my mind. Even though I was wearing a wolfskin furcoat on top of my greatcoat the wind felt like cutting to my bone.

I tried to listen for any sounds of skis as clouds covered Moon. Damn this darkness, one could not see one's fingers. And that wind, too! Actually it was a damn good weather for patrolling. Last night again our men had seen ski tracks not made by Finns: at least one enemy patrol was active in our rear. They could ski with ease since there were large villages where the original inhabitants had not been evacuated. The enemy patrols must have found protection by their own. I had occasionally visited the villages by the exigencies of the service and had wondered at the male population: men in my age. Yet our papers told us that the Russians had impressed children in armed service.

Again there was a gap in the clouds, the renowned romantic yellow source of light showed itself in the cold night. The ice plain was desolate. The Swedish artillery patrol did not show up. I was craving for a fag but how to light up here? A flash of a match can be seen kilometers in the dark night. In case there should be men coming from the opposite shore attempting to penetrate to our rear, I would be an excellent beacon for them striking a match.

I had stored a mental picture of our ski tracks on the ice. I had skied with my pals on both directions ever so many times in nighttime, yet never encountered tracks crossing ours. But you never knew when they would be coming?

My trail of thoughts was interrupted by sound of footsteps on the path. Was it time already? I turned around in the foxhole, trying to pierce the darkness with my eyes. Then I detected a shape against the sky, approaching the sentry post with a rifle carelessly slung on his back. That one could not be an enemy, I could hear that. It was Kaino Riikonen, talking to himself as he used to do.

-Password, I shouted in a muffled tone
-Huh, are you raving ? Damn, I almost got a heart attack.

I was amused, malicious joy is the purest joy!
- What is the password of the day by the way? It was some day, what day? Kaino bantered putting on the fur coat I passed to him.
-Gray-day! The lads said that the Swedish patrol is still to come from the ice, so that you know to expect them. See you!
- Yeah, right. See you too!

The fellow was left there sitting in the foxhole while I headed for the warmth of the house along the path. It was not our home but it was warm and very cold outside.

III
We had about forgotten the days as one could at night enter a well heated room while a polite voice enquired how we were and whether we preferred coffee or a meal. As the war started it was promised that we would find ourselves at home by harvest time. In August 1941 they were talking about Christmas in the civvy street. The promises had been betrayed and there we found ourselves, far from the old national border, we were quarrelsome and grumbling, but fufilled our duties.

My mind was running again this way and that, like a tethered horse. The news from Stalingrad where the Germans had been stuck were far from encouraging. Those men could either surrender or die. It was actually rather curious how little a human life cost: fifteen Finnmarks a day, and a little more if you were better educated.

I kicked snow off my felt ski boots and opened the door of the Russian house. I was met by thickish air, an army marches on its stomach I found out again in a concrete manner, although we just now found ourselves in static positions.

Of th men in the stronghold Arvo, a strong lad, was writing a letter home in the light of a carbide lantern. He nodded at our primitive stove to inform me that a field kettle full of hot surrogate coffee was ready. Soon I stripped off my overcoat, then found some remains of a packet from home in my backpack. I flushed my mouth with hot liquid. Another sentry stint had been done. It was 0430 hrs 6 February A.D.1942.

There was Hakkarainen, his nose was whining as he obviously dreamed of his small farm in Leppävirta. There was Partanen whose one leg was danging over the edge of his bunk, his flannel shirt up in his armpits while his naked belly moved as he breathed. He probably was in Raahe town in his dreams. There was Veikko Kallio from Hämeenlinna, a tall, strong man, doing his nightly swim. His sleeping position reminded us of a swimmer. There was Hietala, a lively young man from Northern Carelia who had learned to salute in the Cadet School.

There they were, men from different parts of the country, pals, that I had looked at as strangers some months ago as I had been posted in this unit from a military hospital. But the war had connected us.
(...)
IV
- Wake up, dammit! You are sleeping while sitting!
The lid of my mess tin fell on the floor with a clang as Arvo pushed my shoulder.

At the very moment the door of our hovel was pulled open and humidity condensed white in the cold inflowing air.

- Get up, quick as hell, all of you! The foe has crossed the minefield and they are somewhere near here. The Swedes are keeping guard on the road.

- Go to heck with your enemies. Can't those bastards come at daytime, so that they would not have to do it in the night?
- Dammit, do not take my shoes.
- Who took my clean footwraps, make some light, will you?
- Don't push me, you are not any better than I am
- Who nicked my ammo?
- We have something to eat, why would anybody take your cartridges?
- Hey hullabaloo the farmer's wife said as she farted in the churn.
- Shut up, let's go now!

The men vanished in the cold morning with silent footsteps. About five minutes had passed as scribe Peltonen had pulled the door open as I was being shaken awake at the table.

As soon as possible, with the usual fuss and profanities we were ready for a task that was still unknown to us. Without delay our group joined the other men at the command post house. Our weapons were slung over our shoulders, we were a trained unit ready to take orders that would definitely be fulfilled.
- No smoking! That was our Company Commander. Someone had hurriedly lit up to soothe his nerves. One's feelings are odd in this kind of situation: both heavy and depressing as well as light and exhilarating.

The orders were brief and clear. Kaino Rikkonen was supported by a second man in his sentry post, the sweeping teams left in different directions. I and Luostarinen were assigned to sentry duty at the garage. The Swedish Second Lieutenant knew enough Finnish to explain us that their men had skied to their base over the ice, which they usually did not do, and they had spotted three individual single tracks across the minefield at our base. The entire coastal sector had been immediately alerted.

Be the penetrated enemy be however large or small, they would not be able to accomplish much. Ten minutes had gone since the artillery Lieutenant had entered our company command post with his information.

I ran with Luostarinen to the long building that we had rebuilt into a garage for our AT gun tractors (war booty A-20, tr.rem.) and lorries. Three hundred meters did not take a long time for us. I shoved my pal on the other side of the building, I took the road side. The ragged cloud cover that had bothered me during my sentry stint had vanished to the horizon, and Moon was shining. The horizon promised snow during the day and the enemy tracks would be covered. The patrol had to be found before that.

I stood in the shadow of the corner and watched carefully at the open field beyond. The forest was about fifty meters farther off, the open field continued about four hundred meters to the left. There was a huge haystack in the middle of the field blocking some of my view.

V
I let my gaze pass from the roadiside over the field far to the left where the snow cover gleamed in moonlight. The garage building logs had cracked loudly a couple of times due to the frost and made me start. I knew my pal on the other side of the building was clutching to his rifle harder than usually while watching intently.

Now I certainly heard the hiss of skis in the forest. But however hard I looked I could not spot any movement. Again a sound of a breaking branch. I kneeled down. I lifted up my loaded rifle. Just a faint movement at the edge of the forest and I would have pulled the trigger. Definitely there was a noise of skis, I was sure of it. But where were the skiers? Not a shadow did move. Suddenly I found that Luostarinen had sneaked next to me in the shadow of the building.
- Do you hear? Again, in that forest. Are my ears lying?
- Or is it our lads following the enemy track?

We stood in silence. Only wind whistled time and again. The stars were disappearing, the dawn was about to break.

- Listen, you wait here. I shall go on the road and listen. If any of our men come, tell them not to shoot at me, I whispered to my pal.

I crossed the road. I proceeded crouching along the ditch and approached the forest covered stretch of land carefully. If the enemy should be there, they would spot me soon and shoot. But it would hurt once only. My advance was very slow, it took me fifteen minutes to reach the spot covered by the trees. I lied down and immobile for a while, I checked the edge of the forest tree by tree. I did not feel the cold, neither the hard frozen road bank, I was hunting now.

I dashed across the road with a few strides. They could have fired now if they had been there. Heck! I kept unflinchingly watching a hillock. Damn it, someone was skiing and he was in a hurry. He is coming right at me! I dropped down and lifted my rifle against my cheek. I felt the safety with my thumb by instinct. Ready to fire, just to move my index finger.

The barrel of my rifle traced the skier who was approaching. Fifty meters, forty, thirty – now! My body was tickling and my breath was blocked.
- Password!
I did not recognize my voice. Why had I asked the password instead of shooting?
- Don't shout, hell!
Dumbstruck I recognised Jussi Kyyrönen, the gunner of my gun tractor, who swished past in the bleak light of the dawn.

My forehead was covered with sweat. Indistinctly I saw how he passed at a racing rate the garage and vanished at to the left side of the open field. I stood up on shaking legs. I had almost shot my best pal! What was the force that had made me ask for the password? Why had I not shot although I had drawn bead on the target?

I returned to my sentry post to Luostarinen on weak knees. I was not able to think one clear idea and my legs were about to fail under me.
-Jussi must be on to something. He went by as if there had been fire in his pants.

Luostarinen leaned at the garage corner and kept watching at the dark forest edge. I could have hit him with the butt of my rifle. I felt so bad and angry at the entire world.

I went in the garage and had a fag. I found that my hands were shaking. I shivered and sensed the coldness of the air. I came out, holding the cig inside my fist. I looked to the field. Someone was skiing across and a moment later he was with us. This slender young was hailing from Kyyrölä in the Isthmus. He had slung his rifle muzzle down over his shoulders, without haste he took it, clicked the bolt and commented:
- They must be in that haystack!

Without any more words and without any haste he left us to the road and then to the forest over the hillock.

VI
With mixed feelings we looked at the snow covered haystack 300m from us. Jussi and two others had skied to the ice past the sentry post occupied by Riikonen. On the ice they followed the track of the Swedish patrol until they detected the tracks of the enemy patrol. Next they returned to the road and from there to the forest where they found that the enemy track pointed to the haystack. Two of them stayed to guard while Jussi set out to find out if the enemy track continued to the other side of the field. The snow surface was intact – the enemy had to be hiding in the haystack. The prey was now surrounded, next it had to be caught.

It was totally silent, as if also the nature would be waiting. Even the wind had died down. Moonlight was pushed aside by the bleak dawn. We were standing on our knees while our rifles pointed at the haystack. I still felt empty inside, I still saw in my mind Jussi rushing at me on skis at me from the hillock in the forest. It was not all the same whom you shot.

The silence continued. Everything stood still until there was a volley of three rifles from the edge of the forest , the echo rolled far in the clear morning. Bullets struck the snow on top of the haystack and a man on skis rushed out of the forest.
- Look at that maniac! He is going right in the middle of the field!

I recognized the lad from Kyyrölä. As fast as he could he followed the track heading for the haystack. He skied another fifty meters, then the foolhardy man flopped down with a puff of snow.

Again oppressive silence. Tension was floating abut, just waiting for release.

- Iti sutaa pa-ruski soltaat ! Ruki veer! (=come here Russian speaking soldier! Hands up!)
It was Jussi shouting commands at the top of his voice. His grammar may have been far from perfect but definitely the men in the haystack undestood what he meant.

The haystack burst open. Two men in white snowsuits rushed out, starting us. Their SMG fire made the snow puff far behind Jussi. Two rapid rifle shots were heard, it was Jussi judging by the muzzle flashes. One of the men in white flopped like an empty bag while the other took a few steps, screaming terribly until he, too, collapsed in the frosty snow. But two men do not need three pairs of skis! There had to be at least one man, if not more, in the hay. Again Jussi shouted his command in the morning dusk.

-Why don't they surrender?
-Who dares to surrender to the White Finnish bandits. They are said to poke your eyes out.
-Come on. It just seems so futile to me, having oneself killed for nothing.

My words were cut short by a wild shout. “uraa!” Straws of hay were scattered on the snow as another two strong looking men in white snowsuits rushed out heading for the edge of the forest. Bursts of their SMG fire puffed the snow here and there. A rifle shot rang out and one of the white clad men was dead. The other one was quicker. He leaped behind an elevated snowdrift and a duel between this SMG gunner and a rifleman started. Their distance from each other was some twenty meters. Bullets kept flying, we did not dare to shoot because the two shooters were too much in line for us to intrude. We just kept watching, mesmerized at the terrible sight. The men were fighting definitely for their lives and one of them had to remain there, defeated. Should the enemy win, he would not survive but for a moment. At the same moment the duel ended as fast as it had started. The SMG gunner in his white snowsuit appeared to rise up from the snow, his weapon went silent and life flowed out of his body.

Our men emerged, on skis on both sides of the field. Dozens of rifles pointed at the haystack as the line of men approached it. The first man poked into the hay with his rifle. No movement, so he pushed his way into a cavity in the stack that the enemies had managed to make in it. We found material: two large battery operated lanterns, a radio transceiver and a complete set of maps of the Onega coast held by us. An unopened food package, including a bottle of vodka.

It was 0830 hrs. The incident was over. Four custom trained sons of steppes were lying in the snow, the last man sported the insignia of Captain. It remained a mystery for us how they had been able to cross the minefield without hitting one single mine. (…)

(3314 words)

Mikko H.
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Re: Personal Finnish War Stories

#34

Post by Mikko H. » 04 May 2016, 18:48

Lotvonen, would it be possible to collect all your translations in one thread? Or at least create a thread with links and descriptions to all your translations? You're doing great work and I think such an index would be tremendously useful. Keep up the good work!

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Juha Tompuri
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Re: Personal Finnish War Stories

#35

Post by Juha Tompuri » 04 May 2016, 22:55

Mikko H. wrote: create a thread with links and descriptions to all your translations?
I think this is a very good suggestion.

Mikko H. wrote:You're doing great work and I think such an index would be tremendously useful. Keep up the good work!
Wholeheartedly agree.

Regards, Juha

Teemu S
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Re: Personal Finnish War Stories

#36

Post by Teemu S » 05 May 2016, 14:02

Yes, definitely worthy of its own index thread.

Great job on the translations! :thumbsup:

-Teemu S

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Re: Personal Finnish War Stories - translator's remark

#37

Post by Lotvonen » 10 May 2016, 10:34

Thank you for encouragement. Now there will be a summer break, gardening takes all my time until October.
Till then no more new translations but the next one.

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Location: Finland

Re: Personal Finnish War Stories

#38

Post by Lotvonen » 10 May 2016, 10:38

Kuokkala village was a hot spot

Urpo Arhosuo
Journal Kansa Taisteli vol.08, 1958

(Long distance recce patrol to Kuokkala in the Carelian Isthmus in 1941. )

As our Continuation war started and the army was waiting for attack order we the long distance patrolmen engaged the enemy without any delay. In fact we engaged the enemy in their rear. We had already carried out some patrols to find out about enemy troop locations, strength, artillery etc. Our journeys were not long, just two to three days, but enough to get familiar with the counteractions of the enemy to catch us. What we found out proved to be of great importance as we later had to stay for long periods behind the enemy lines

After we had gained some experience we had to do a longer patrol in early July. Our mission was to spend one month in the enemy rear. Our aim was to cross the old national border at Mainila, the famous place, and to observe enemy defence lines and structures on our way. Very interesting detail was mining railway lines and derailing trains, also included in our tasks.

We were six men who crossed the front lines, heading for Vuoksi river. We found that it was the more simple to proceed in the enemy rear the deeper we penetrated, and we did not encounter any surprises. Crossing the Vuoksi river was easy using boats we borrowed from the enemy but did not return, those were Finnish boats abandoned after the Winter War. We headed for Perkjärvi on the Viipuri-Rajajoki(Byeloostrov) rail line. When there we split into two teams to speed up our work.

The enemy obviously was aware of our movements since already at Vuoksi we had been spotted by civilians. We also had been seen on our way here because near the Perkjärvi station village we by chance happened to overhear a lecture by a Politruk to the troops on manners of liquidating “white bandits”. It was very instructive to us, leaving no doubts about our fate should we be caught. Of course that was the very thing we did not want. The lecturer could not guess that the very “bandits” were sitting no farther than one hundred meters away, listening his rant.

His paroles and threats at us were reeking of brimstone, they could be hear far in the quiet summer evening. Inspired by the Politruk's lecture we decided to give a reminder of our existence the same night. Fot that purpose we proceeded to N of Lounatjoki where the second half of our patrol would return after completing their tasks. There were guards walking along the rail line, seldom only, but it proved that the enemy was alerted. We decided to plant our mine as close to the station as possible to discredit the Politruk's claims. He had said that we just are hiding in the forest, bothering single passers-by in the manner of bandits.

The weather favoured us. The light July night became cloudy and dusk fell, then it started raining a little. At midnight we sneaked carefully toward the station as far as the first switch where we planted a double charge under one rail. Then we set the fuse, camouflaged everything assisted by the rain and everything was ready for the next train. We managed to get in the cover of the forest as a three man patrol set out from the station walking along the rail line. We stayed to see if they would spot our mine. They did not, but went on while chattering lively. We withdrew deeper in the forest to seek rain shelter. We hoped that no train would arrive before next morning so that our job should not be found out by chance to provide our Politruk with more material for lectures.

It had finished raining and we headed for the rallying spot. Having marched for a couple of kilometers we heard sounds of a train from the direction of Lounatjoki. We stopped to listen and waited if everything would happen according to the plan. Minutes were long, and we already had doubts about our success as there was a lightning-like flash in the direction of the station, then we heard a loud explosion followed by tremendous crash and crunching as the waggons piled on the derailed locomotive.

We had done a good job and were satisfied as we continued our journey, guessing what the enemy were thinking and what kind of countermeasures we could expect.

The enemy reacted with an astonishing rapidity. The very next day the rail line had been secured by standing and mobile sentries. Now it was better not to head for the railway in a reckless manner but we had to observe the patrols to find out their schedules, which did not include much slack. Mostly we succeeded by acting fast, but there were also surprises. The enemy patrols were small, two to three men, so we were equal in strenght. The enemies were always on the receiving side if they stumbled upon us, which added to their list of casualties. The trains did no more traffic carefree, but each train was preceded by a loco pushing sand-laden waggons in order to trigger any mines. With good luck we sometimes managed to mine the rails between the securing loco and the actual train. That made the train traffic even more uncertain and tied huge numbers of men as guards. The prisoners taken told that the loco crews feared mines so much that they actually had to be forced to do their work. Six men are able to cause a lot of nuisance to the enemy and engage troops, so now we understood better than ever the rants of the Politruk.

We had been in our task for nearly three weeks both at the main line (Viipuri-Rajajoki) and the Koivisto line. Our journey went on deeper in the isthmus. Airmen took care of supplying us with proviant and explosives. We had not suffered any losses and were in high spirits. South of Kivennapa village we split into two teams. One team headed for Mainila while the other one had the task of mining the rail line Kuokkala-Rajajoki. We agreed to rally at Lintulanjoki three days later.

I belonged to the rail mining team. Sgt. Juvonen led us, he had grown up in Kuokkala and he knew the terrain. He also absolutely wanted to visit his ancestral village, to “revenge the robbers”. It must have been his home that made this courageous and fearless man into a reckless one. We used to march in nighttime because days were tooo hot to carry heavy backpacks, also the dense civilian population had to be taken into account. The civilians had a nasty habit to report what they had seen to the military, who then wanted to get in contact with us despite having experienced our reluctance.

It was easy for us to move about because Sgt. Juvonen knew the places and we did not need neither maps nor compass. The closer to Kuokkala we came the more confidently we made use of all possible roads. At times we found it appropriate to remark Juvonen that we should use safer passages. “ One never had to fear anything in Kuokkala” was his answer and we had to accept it.

One night we were marching on the road from Haapala to Kellomäki as we heard the noise of an approaching horse cart. We prepared to hide in the roadside as Juvonen saw our intentions. “Why dodge, this is a wide road, one single Ivan has enough space to pass us, just follow me.” A single horse cart met us and then Juvonen told the driver in plain Finnish:
Now get going and do not stop before Moscow, Finns are here already.

I wonder if the driver understood him, but he did leave as one pursued by the Devil.
Did he stop before arriving at Moscow?

We reached the railway early in the morning, 0400 hrs. We had plenty of time to find a good observation spot next to the line. We intended to count the traffic during daytime and mine the rails next night. At the same time we were able to verify the sentries and patrols that according to the prisoners were not there, but one cannot ever trust the enemy. It was best to verify.

There was a very dense copse between the train stop of Kanerva and the station of Kuokkala. It was almost impassable and reaching next to the railway embankment. We thought we had found an ideal spot for observation, but it proved to be anything but calm as we found out some hours later.

We had some breakfast and made plans for mining next night, then turned in. We made our beds among the saplings while our third man, Cpl. Vainikka stayed awake to count the traffic and be our guard.

We had just fallen in the deepest sleep at 0700 hrs as our sentry came and said that we were surrounded, there were enemies all around us. He also cursed Juvonen who had betrayed us by marcing on roads. We listened, quite right, there was crunching every where as if someone had been breaking branches. We felt quite exposed, three men are not able to fight a trench war for any longer period. Sgt. Juvonen interrupted the silence by telling us what a boring place Kuokkala had been, except the Casino, and it was nice change that something interesting should be going on here. Then he gave us a decent order:
- Let them get closer, in this dense copse they won't spot us until at an arm's length. Be ready to shoot, don't spare ammo, every man must send as many of them to the Paradise, there are routes to reach Piter (Leningrad) if necessary, I know this district, just follow me.

We were ready to act and our confidence to Juvonen was complete. But the sounds did not get any closer. We kept waiting but the crunching stayed at the same distance. We decided to find out what was going on. Carefully we sneaked to the direction we had arrived here and soon got wiser. The enemy had tasked a group of soldiers to cut down the copse we found ourselves in. They had left their rifles behind at the edge of the copse. We retreated to consider. We were surrounded but so far the enemy was ignorant of our existence. It was not posible to cross the railway because there were wide open fields beyond the line. The actual rail line was patrolled by the enemy. There was more open field on this side of the rail line and the station was no farther away than one kilometer.

We had arrived in the copse over sparse pine forest that would expose us to enemy fire before we would have been able to cover the three to four hundred meters to the denser forest. Neither could we wait that the enemy would leave, because the area to be cleared would be done before evening – almost two hundred men were at work, we estimated.

Our situation was grim but not hopeless, as Juvonen commented. He knew the terrain and he had a plan. Without him we would have been in a really tough spot.

We set out to the direction we had arrived from, having dodged some of the working men we encountered a shallow old ditch. By creeping along it quietly and staying low we might be able to escape from the blockade unnoticed if the ditch were long enough.

We started our advance, which was time-consuming but we had all the time in the world. Our every movement had to be considered because one quiet crack of a breaking twig could have been fatal: the closest enemies were just a few meters from us, fortunately not facing us and making noise. Officers and NCOs leading them were walking about and it was them that we had to fear most.

Sgt. Juvonen consoled us saying that if we are spotted the Red Army shall have several vacancies to fill. It was a poor consolation, because our nerves were quite tight. We had proceeded 60 to 70 meters as the ditch ended in a piece of wetland overgrown with wild rosemary. It was not a large area, less than ten meters in diameter, but enough to provide us with cover from prying eyes. We decided to stay there for the day.
Isn't it fun to watch the Russkies work, Juvonen said.

We kept watching the toil of the enemies, but it was still forenoon and we decided to continue our interrupted sleep. Vainikka promised to stand guard. Our day had started with a quick reveille and soon another followed. At noon our sentry poked our ribs whispering that women were heading right at us. Carefully we put up our heads and saw that there was a woman with two young girls coming right at us. She could not pass us without seeing us, and next the soldiers would be informed. Juvonen alone stayed calm, he commented complaining how old the woman was and the girls very young, it they had been of the right age we could have had a nice afternoon.

We could not help being amused despite the serious situation. The soldiers, too, had seen the passers-by and kept looking at them. We tried to lie as flat as possible among the wild rosemary, hoping that the ladies would alter their course. Now there was the risk that suddenly spotting three bearded men in front of them they would scream and then we would have to sprint to the forest before the enemy reacts.

But a Russian woman must have been used to worse surprises because spotting us they did not make any sound. The girls did start and took a few running steps but their mother's rebuke cut their run short. The woman was at once orientated in the situation. She began simulating berry-picking with her hands. The soldiers must have wondered what made the girls jump as they kept staring.

Now we started a discussion that was not very deep as our Russian skills were limited to a few dirty words. Juvonen, however, understood some. Talking with your hands was not possible when lying flat on the ground. The communication was smoothed by a ten-rouble banknote that Juvonen gave the woman, she at once slipped it in her skirt. Juvonen found out that the soldiers had been assigned to clear shooting sectors at the railway line because a Finnish invasion was possible. There were lots of soldiers in Kellomäki, she told, but could not give any figures. She swore not to talk about us and she promised to keep the girls quiet, too. Not until now she checked the banknote she had received and asked if we had any smaller values as she did not dare to pass such a valuable banknote to anybody because it would mean a tough interrogation to find out where she had got it.

But having been told it was all we had she kept the banknote. Finally she asked us to visit her home which was visible to us and have some tea. In our predicament we agreed to do that, and she crossed herself, then went on at the soldiers

Now nerve-racking moments followed: would she keep her promise or would she betray us? We kept watching the ladies until they vanished from our view. The soldiers went on working. But what would the ladies do now that they were out of our sight? With that in our mind we decided to get out of the place despite the risks. If the enemy would succeed in surrounding us here on the open ground we would be finished.

Making use of the terrain and moving carefully we managed to get in the denser forest unnoticed. The enemy did not give any clues of having seen anything. It is difficult to spot a terrain coloured man who is immobile.

Now we were ready to go deep in the forest to avoid any further surprises. We asked Sgt. Juvonen about his plans and begged him to hurry up. But he told us that now we do not have no hurry any more, we must check if the woman betrayed us, and it would be great fun to watch the enemy surrounding the wetland and finding nothing. His idea was a disappointment for the rest of us, but we did not tell him, because we had seen how he was able to maintain his good sense of humour and clear thinking in the most difficult situations.

We stayed there to wait what would happen. Two hours later we were sure that the woman had kept her promise. Nothing happened. It was 1500 hrs and the enemy had done their job, the copse had been thinned. The soldiers left.

We set out and proceeded past the station to a place between villages Ollila and Kuokkala, about two kilometers from Kuokkala. There we stayed to find out about possible enemy patrols on the railway line, because we had wasted our day from the point of vies of our mission. We kept observing for the rest of the day without seeing any guards. Train traffic was quite lively in both directions.

At midnight we left our extra gear in the cover of the forest about one km from the rail line while one of us stayed behind to guard them. Two of us headed for the railway to carry out our duty. The night was cloudy and enough dusky. Making use of a wooded stretch of land between open fields we arrived at the railway. It was an ideal spot for a mine due to the high embankment. We had scarcely started our job as we heard the sounds of a larger enemy unit marching on the rail line from Kuokkala. We took cover in the bushes nearby to see who is coming. A company of enemies marched past to the direction of Rajajoki. We wondered where they were going at 2300 hrs, because it was not us they were after, marching in a big closed formation.


The sounds of boots died out and we climbed up the embankmen to complete our job. We had learned to work soundlessly while keeping all our senses open. A faint whiff of mahorka (Soviet tobacco) smell made us alert at once. We heard nothing, everything was quiet although we knew that there were enemies nearby.

Our last mine had been planted now and we hastily camouflaged and covered our tracks.
Then we started crossing the field to get back to our gear. We had proceeded about 30 m as a flare was fired from the edge of the forest. We dropped in a ditch, wondering what on earth was going on. Soon we found that the enemy was doing a night fighting training. The company that passed us was acting as the aggressor, approaching the defender at the edge of the forest. So that had been the source of the mahorka smell, we patted ourselves in the back for acting silently at the railway although we had not been aware of the presence of the enemy before the betraying smell of mahorka.

Flares were fired more and more often, we did not have any chance to escape the attacking unit. We decided to let them pass us, they had blank cartridges only, so they could not threaten us. We could use our SMGs in case it was necessary.

But the enemies passed us, shooting profusely and ignoring us. We soon found our gear where our nervous sentry was waiting for us. He had already thought we were done for judging by the lively shooting.

The enemy was still shooting equally lively as we heard sounds of an approaching train from Rajajoki. We opined that the night exercise will have a live ending as the train approached our mine. After the explosion the shooting stopped as if by the order of a referee. After terrible crunching and crashing ended there was a total silence. Finally we heard the voices of enemies approaching the scene of destruction.

We did not stay there to wait for another train because the rest of our mines were delayed for four hours. We thought of the woman, would she have any use for the ten roubles, or would she share the fate of the man from whom we had taken it?
It was a bad luck banknote, Juvonen said, fortunately we got rid of it in time.

At our rallying point we began to plan how to get home. We would not have to cross the Vuoksi because our troops were already advancing on the near side of it: Vuoksi was on Finnish territory again. Our mission had been completed and we would wait for the next show.
( 3506 words)

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Juha Tompuri
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Re: Personal Finnish War Stories - translator's remark

#39

Post by Juha Tompuri » 11 May 2016, 22:35

Lotvonen wrote: Now there will be a summer break, gardening takes all my time until October.
Till then no more new translations but the next one.
See you back in October.
"Nothing is important except gardening and even that is not so important"

Regards, a fellow gardener.

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Re: Personal Finnish War Stories

#40

Post by Lotvonen » 11 Jun 2016, 15:15

Due to bad weather and a misfortune I have some time to spare.
The following story is strictly taken not a personal account but it was published in "Kansa Taisteli", a good patriotic and heroic story of a man who fought to the last.

Cpl. Kauko Tuomala, the man who stuck to his gun
by Veikko Pyykkö
Journal Kansa Taisteli vol.3., 1957

Before Midsommer 1944 the II Battalion of JR11 was defending Revonkylä sector of the defence line between lakes Kaltovesi and Noskuanselkä, Carelian Isthmus. The defence line included the hill to the south of Revonkylä village, the terrain had been smashed in the Winter War. The ground was rough gravel. The Battalion had been strengthened with two 75mm AT guns (7,5 PaK40). They were placed next to the road from Antrea to Kääntymä village, one on the E side and the other one on the W side, about 50m behind the trench line.

Enemy attack on 23 June had been repulsed, three tanks had been shot into flames. They burned all night as midsummer fires with bright flames and black smoke. 24 and 25 June had been relatively calm days. 25 June Sr.Sgt. Aimo Mäkilä's AT platoon had arrived at the front line relieving the previous *

Sr.Sgt. Mäkilä led the left side gun, Cpl. Vihervaara led the right side gun. Early 26 June the enemy started a heavy shelling at the positions of the Battalion. At the right side gun Cpl. Tuomaala was acting as the observer together with Pvt. Paasonen. As the enemy shelling had continued about three quarters of an hour Sr.Sgt. Mäkilä spotted three enemy tanks approaching uphill at a distance of 300 to 400 m. He ordered the gun layer and the loader - Cpt. Tuomaala and Pfc. Heinonen – to engage the enemy. Cpl. Tuomaala fired ten AP shells, damaging and stopping every enemy tank on the road. They looked like T34s.

About a quarter of an hour later a fourth tank was spotted on the road, approaching our positions. Cpl. Tuomaala fired at it and it caught fire. Lacking tank targets Tuomaala fired splinter shells at enemy infantry approaching behind the tanks.

Soon a fifth tank drove up the hill and Tuomaala shot it into flames with four AT shells. Shelling continued, the battlefield was full of smoke but Cpl. Tuomaala smiled behind his gun, happy with his score.

By now the enemy had spotted the troublesome AT gun and shelled it time and again. The gun team was lucky, the gun was not hit and the men took cover in their foxholes during strafing. The other AT gun team was less lucky. After the battle had continued for two hours Cpl. Vihervaara came to report that his AT gun had taken a square hit. It had been upturned, the gun carriage legs pointed to the sky. Cpl. Tuomaala's gun was now the sole one to cover the road.

Another three tanks appeared on the opposite hillside. Cpl.Tuomaala knocked all of them out into flames, but he needed almost twenty hollow charge shells. The shooting distance was now rather long, about 700 to 800 m. At first he did not score any hits but finally he was rewarded with success.

When Col. Tuomaala had a chance he made sure that his first victims were certainly destroyed by shooting at them half a dozen times. One of these tanks burst into flames.

The enemy attempted to set an AT gun into position behind the first set of destroyed tanks but they were spotted and Tuomaala knocked the gun out with three shells.

The enemy infantry attack had been repulsed by our infantry supported by artillery fire. The enemy brought up their reserves. A motorized enemy outfit appeared on the opposite hill behind the knocked out tanks. The vehicles were lorries towing guns and men were disembarking. A runner was sent with a request of artillery strike but the shells hit only the far end of the column. Cpl. Tuomaala fired about ten shells, the enemy left behind two damaged lorries and one gun while the men dispersed in the forest.

More enemy shells exploded around the AT gun. The enemy had tried to suppress it many times but had failed to score a bullseye. The gun was strewn with sand and the breech block would stick. Several times the gun crew had cleaned their weapon and removed any functional problems but at times the breed block had to be opened by hitting it with an ax.

It was likely that sooner or later the gun would take a hit, it would just be a matter of time. The gun could not be moved to another position because it was impossible to move a 1500 kg gun in daytime on a hillside exposed to the enemy. It was four hours since the first tanks had been knocked out.

During these hours Cpl. Tuomaala, a quiet man, had become a hero. He kept observing the enemy through his sighting scope, his sweat-soaked and dirty face was glowing with enthusiasm under his helmet. The other gunners, Platoon leadesr Sr. Sgt. Mäkilä, his runner Pfc. Steenroos, Pfc. Heinonen the loader and the rest of them had also fulfilled their duties.

It was about 1000 hrs, the gun was not occupied. Cpl. Tuomaala observed the enemy and reported seeing more tanks on the hillside. They fired two shells then the enemy scored a hit on the left side of the gun post. The right side had been blown off earlier during the morning. Cpl. Tuomaala took cover but returned back to his gun. As Sr. Sgt. Mäkilä ordered him to take cover Tuomaala said:
Now our lives are on stake!

He may have spotted a tank or an assault gun firing at their gun. He fired once more, then there was a flash as an enemy shell exploded on the gun. The men's ears were ringing and gravel rained on them. A heavy shell fired from the left had hit the gun, damaging it badly and scorching it black. Only the barrel survived, left half of the shield, aiming mechanism and spotting scope were smashed. Cpl. Tuomaala had apparently vanished – later the lower half of his body was found in a foxhole, under a layer of gravel, as well as his arms and pieces of skull. Pfc. Heinonen and Pfc. Stenroos were wounded. The AT gun was silent after a battle lasting four and a half hours.

Yet the gun and its crew had fulfilled their duty because the enemy was not able to break through with their tanks. In the afternoon three waves of German aircraft bombed the enemy that was grouping in front of our positions. Close range AT men were placed in the trench and replacement AT guns were made available. Although it was not possible to bring them close enough in daylight, the front held until night. In the cover of the brief midnight dusk the new guns were brought into their positions. In the small hours of 27 June the three AT guns and close range AT men in co-operation knocked out half a dozen tanks that had pushed their way near our trenches. The enemy attack had been repelled.

Evening news of 27 June 1944 reported that the C-in-C had posthumously decorated Cpl. Tuomaala with Mannerheim Cross 2nd Class (knight no.134, tr.rem.).




Cpl. Kauko Hans Wiilliam Tuomala, hailing from Humppila, was the only son of poor parents, was born 19 Nov. 1918.
Having completed his basic education he continued educating himself for his life. He had completed a two year course in a cottage industry school and a two year farming school, becoming a farm foreman. He continued his self education and belonged to the Civic Guard of Humppila. He was described as a decent man with pleasant manners .

During the trench war period 1942 to 1944 Cpl. Tuomaala was employed as a forestry expert of the 10.D and 18.D headquarters, so his training with anti-tank guns 50 K/38 and 75 K/40 was minimal. On 13 June he was assigned to become an AT gunner again. Sr. Sgt. Mäkilä trained him, but he never had fired a 75mm AT gun before his feat 26 June.

Since he was found to have extremely strong nerves he was assigned to be a gun layer at his own request. In his very first battle he had proved that ”the Spirit gives life “.

His furious tenacity, risking everything, makes him a worthy example for any AT man.

I have written this account of Kauko Tuomaala to honour his parents in Humppila who had lost their only son. They buried a very light coffin and they have two decorations as a memory of their son: his Mannerheim cross and a Liberty cross of mourning.

1447 words.

(A memorial stone was erected in 2008 to commemorate Tuomala in the ancient battlefield by Finnish war veteran organizations. Tr.rem.)

Lotvonen
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Re: Personal Finnish War Stories - back to business

#41

Post by Lotvonen » 02 Nov 2016, 10:38

Well. this time the migrating cranes did not take their usual route along Aura river so I did not get the cue to leave for town until the summer time ended...
I have a 56kb story by Pauli Savinainen on Patrol Hämäläinen.
-Is it too large in one instalment?
-Does it belong here or into another topic, which one then?

User avatar
Juha Tompuri
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Re: Personal Finnish War Stories - back to business

#42

Post by Juha Tompuri » 02 Nov 2016, 22:51

Hi Lotvonen,
Lotvonen wrote:I have a 56kb story by Pauli Savinainen on Patrol Hämäläinen.
-Is it too large in one instalment?
Sounds just OK.
Please go ahead.

Regards, Juha

Lotvonen
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Posts: 814
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Re: Personal Finnish War Stories

#43

Post by Lotvonen » 03 Nov 2016, 08:08

Due to the size - more than 70k characters- I had to split the Patrol Hämäläinen story text.
Also I made it a separate topic, it is easier to discuss about the name of the operation for example.
The second part will be submitted in a couple of days.

Lotvonen
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Re: Personal Finnish War Stories

#44

Post by Lotvonen » 09 Nov 2016, 07:12

This story tells about fighting in the beachhead at Vilajoki on the West coast of Viipurinlahti bay. Red Army had crossed the ice, and the Finnish contermeasures were hampered by confusion in command, which is implied by the writer.

Otto Järvensivu
Journal "Kansa Taisteli", vol.10, 1958

Last smokes

Winter War, at night on small hours of March 7th 1940 as our Battalion – IX/KT-Pr (Field Replacement Brigade) that hailed from Satakunta province arrived from Salla to Vilajoki in Säkkijärvi parish. Before counterattacking we breakfasted in a dense fir forest; it was forest that had protected us often. Our kitchen men with their field kitchens remained there while we left to exchange bullets with Eastern soldiers, already familiar to us. That meal under the fir trees was the last one for many of us, among them my mate, LMG gunner Niilo Hannula from Kiukainen.

As soon as we had left for the front line he dropped the end of his spent fag and said:
- It was my last smoke.
- Are you out of them ?
- No, there is another box in my pocket and some more in my backpack in the rear.

I did not realise he had a premonition of the future but I said:
-My good fellow, we never had such a bad situation that we could not have a smoke while our LMG is cooling down in the snow.

On skis we met our “adversaries” that had crossed the Bay of Viipuri at Vilajoki. I believe we were supposed to push them back; but the enemy positions were already so strong that our counter-attack stalled near the coastline because we saw open ice between trees. Our advance slowed down and the number of casualties began to increase.

Hannula was frustrated by our inaction. He filled his pockets with LMG (L-S 28/30) mags and alone advanced 30 to 40 m ahead of us. He stood up and emptied one mag after another holding the weapon supported by his arms only, while I kept shouting at him asking him to get back to us.

Having emptied his mags he returned to me and said:
Why are you calling me to get back? We cannot see any of them here although there are lots of them over there, I got several of them. I am getting back there.
He dumped the empty mags next to me and filled his pockets with full ones.

I told him not to go, and asked him to have a look at the man to our right. Three meters from us there was SMG gunner Salminen with his cheek split up by bullets. Hannula did not heed my warning, he returned to his old position and continued firing.
I shouted :
- A tall man shoud not stand up now !

Our Platoon second-in-command Ylihongisto skied up and told us to take the wounded man off from here, our sled equpped paramedics were overworked already by the number of casualties.

I asked Pvt. Rintala on our left to help me. We took Salminen between us and started wading in the snow, three backs as targets for the enemy, from the shooting line to the first aid post. Thinking about it now it was a careless thing to do but maybe Hannula's shooting kept the enemies pinned down so that they were not able to fire at us.

I glanced back to see how recklessly Hannula was fighting. I was deeply worried about him, he had become very close to me during the long cold nights at Salla that we had survived together.

We escorted Salminen to the first aid post that was not far.

A funny incident happened. The wounded were told that any man able to walk should evacuate himself on foot to spare horse transport for the more serious cases. The spot was out of reach of motor transport. My snowsuit was quite red on one side, Salminen's cheek wound had bled on it. When leaving the first aid post for the front line someone shouted me:
- Not there!
I beckoned to the front line and hurried my steps. A man grabbed my arm and indicated the direction I should take in his opinion. I told him that I was all right despite the blood he could see. He checked my wits by a question to make sure I was OK in every respect. I said my thanks to him for the care he devoted to me.

I returned to the shooting line that had retreated some 200m during my absence. I saw Hannula no more. He had remained in the spot I had warned him about. The men of our squad told that he had fallen without a sound soon after I had left. He remained in the hands of the enemy with his weapon. Also my magazine bag and my skis were left under a tall pine. I felt that the Lord controls the course of our life on earth also in war. I had lost a good pal and I could not retrieve his body, however hard I hoped for it. A feeling of loneliness washed over me.

At dusk the fighting was over, we pulled back some more. I waded in thick snow to the same spot where at dawn we had been side by side and he had been alive having his last smokes.

In my mind I relived the past morning, then our entire war starting from Pori where it all started. The cold law of war sweeps off all humanity, and a soldier has to withstand everything.

Firing had ceased as we retired out of enemy infantry arms range later in the night, and the enemy did not immediately pursue us.

At dawn I heard some noises on the supply road, I went to see if our morning tea would be coming, being closest to the road. It was an AT gun pulled by two horses, heading for the front line past my position. I thought of telling them not to go any further, but then I reasoned that they are under other commanders than us, infantrymen, I cannot meddle in their matters. I should have, because soon I heard shots from the direction they had gone. Soon the men returned creping in the snow, the gun and the horses had been left there. They told me that they had orders to take the positions we had been in yesterday. Feeling regret in my conscience I confessed that I had been about to warn them against going any further but as my warnings yesterday had had no effect I now was fed up with warning anybody.

March 8 1940 was quiet, sunshine all day. Artillery was active in the direction of Viipuri. We had our positions next to the new straight road at Vilaniemi. In the afternoon an Ivan marched from a side road to the main road, without any visible weapon and a kind of apron on his belt, and approached us. He would have come all the way to us but some of us began to beckon at him, he stopped, found his error and after an about turn ran back as fast as he could. Some shots were fired at him but the cover of forest saved him, just as often us.

The beautiful day turnied into evening and night. We prepared our positions and camouflaged them with fir boughs, expecting enemy attack. Next morning they would try to take the road from Tienhaara to Säkkijärvi. The enemy approached as early as before midnight the road, loud talking informed us about them.

In the small hours of next day a horse column approached from Tienhaara, the sleigh runners screeching in the cold snow so loud that we were scared, taking into account the enemy almost at the road. Also we did not know who was coming. We waited in the ditch for the approaching column, prepared. The column was led by a steaming field kitchen. We heard the driver say his horse loudly that again his stride was slow. Now we knew it was our men who were coming. As they came to our line we told them:
- Quiet going now, do you realise where you are?
- We were told to take this way.

I informed them about the state of affairs. No more talking aloud unlike the Russians on the far side of the road. We filled our field kettles with hot water, “ with some taste of tea in it”, as the men said afterwards.

The column continued to Säkkijärvi. There was no time to discuss about coming and going. Their mission seemed to succeed, with good luck you can get away with anything. We sighed with relief as the sounds of the sleigh runners died out without any shots fired. At dawn the road became inpassable even for the luckiest ones as the enemy attacked to cross it.

In the night I had received from a sleigh load another familiar LMG to replace the one lost with Hannula. I had taken my position on a small hill, the road was there in a man-made pass. I thought that the enemy woild have to make a good effort to make a breach in this spot, and they did not succeed. The LMG ran hot all day. I had placed a piece of timber in the snow and supported my weapon on it. At one moment the barrel shroud was so hot that the wood under it began to smoulder. I feared the barrel might have been ruined and the rifling gone. I burst into cold sweat having no spare barrel at hand. As usual I stuck the LMG barrel first in the snow where it made sounds of boiling water, and told the men on my sides to keep firing, only faster. Having cooled down the LMG functioned well and the barrel was undamaged. I emptied a great number of magazines in the course of the day, as soon as my assistant was able to fill them. The enemies did not lose their zeal to attack all day even though many of them lost their lives on the sides of the road. Finally the dead did not care about the shouting of their officers any more than the surviving ones. At sunset the enemy considered they had done a good day's job and quit their attempts for the moment. It was the time for us, too, I was so tired that I was no more able to hold the LMG shooting in auto mode.

Cold frost fog settled over the battlefield. It was quiet, as if the death had covered everything. Only trees were standing, snowless, some topless, all trunks torn white by bullets. I remembered Hannula again. If he had been spared that day he probably would have survived this day, because I and my assistant were unscathed. He would also have seen the day that brought the peace and ended fighting.

I had an idea: to get here in time of peace and find his final resting place, what an impossible idea then. I got a chance in spring 1943. I requested and received orders from my unit to try to find Hannula. My brother joined me. We hoped to find his body since a Sergeant of the same company had been found some time ago. A bus from Kotka to Viipuri took us to Vilajoki. I had the map of the battlefield imprinted in my mind so well that we would have no problems to found the spot where Hannula had been killed, more than three years ago. What a wonderful peace reigned now! The sounds of war were far away. The local people had returned to their homesteads. The building that had been the first aid post had burned to ashes. The forest owners were cutting down the shell ravaged trees with tears of joy in their eyes. They were at home and it was a beautiful spring, predicting new life.

They had no idea that they would have to leave one more time, for good.

We found the spot where Hannula had had his last smoke. Then we continued in the forest, following landmarks known to me. Patches of snow had remained, reminding that we had once skied here to attack. A ski belonging to our Company was found, then the tall pine. My magazine bag left there was missing, as well as my skis. There was no sign of Hannula or his LMG. Strangers must have taken everything, taken them into the unknown, even the remains of the son who had been so dear to his mother. We searched around carefully, but we did not find anything to take in the cemetery of his home church.

We returned past the graves of enemies that had been dug in the same hill that I had defended on March 9, 1940. Gravestones with Finnish names had been brought there, some of them had been placed as stairs. Climbing up the hill I realised that the graves may contain victims of Hannula's weapon – maybe also mine - and that the silence of death atones for everything.


(2194 words)

Lotvonen
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Re: Personal Finnish War Stories

#45

Post by Lotvonen » 11 Nov 2016, 12:37

Panzerfausts saved the day in Ruokokoski

Herkko Pesonen
Journal Kansa Taisteli, vol.10/1958

(The author was a Platoon Leader in I Btn of JR8. The incident described took place end June 1944. )


RUOKOKOSKI is the location of a battle during the withdrawal period of the Continuation War, it is situated North of Suurimäki (Bolshiye Gory), at the road from Suurimäki to Tulemajärvi. At this location a bend of Viteleenjoki river is close to the road. Suurimäki was still in Finnish hands and quantities of heavy artillery and material convoys were still being evacuated. The enemy, however, was expected to attack our Eastern flank from Kinälahti and reach the far bank of Viteleenjoki river. One there the enemy would deny us the use of this important supply road with thei fire. That is why our battalion, the I of JR8, code name “Tankki”, led by Cavalry Capt. O. Rajasaari, was ordered to to keep the enemy off from the far bank of the river until our artillery and our supply columns had all passed this spot.

Our Battalion arrived at Ruokokoski the evening before the battle (28 June 1944?) at 1800 hrs. My Machine Gun Platoon (1st) had been subjected to Capt. Kettunen's Infantry Company. At this spot there was a Carelian village on the riverbank and a narrow floating wooden bridge across the river. I and Capt. Kettunen reconnoitred the terrain where we were to engage the enemy. There was a narrow cart road through the forest, bending to the right to Kinälahti. We proceeded for three kilometers and there was a lake to the left with a slope to the enemy side that the road crossed. Here we decided to place one infantry company and my MG platoon. Capt. Halonen's Company continued another three kilometers to meet the enemy and had a battle contact with them.

The command post phones of both companies were connected to the same field cable that ended at the Battalion command post situated behind the river at the road a little off from the river bank. My command post was in Capt. Kettunen's command post, about 100m from the infantry company and MG platoon positions on the hillside.

We could listen on the phone every call from and to the frontline on a 3km range.

It was fairly normal night until 0200 hrs, it was one of the the last days of June 1944 and the night was light. We heard messages over the phoneline:
- Nothing special to report, just rifle and artillery fire as usual.
- Our lines are holding – no trouble.

It was either Capt. Halonen or his Runner
Situation reports came constantly:
- The enemy is trying hard, but our line holds, the lads have again got a taste for war, the enemy is not going to make a breach here.

We loved to hear that. We spread the news in our own lines and our confidence increased while we were waiting for our turn. Our men either dosed off in the foxholes they had dug or roasted the bacon of a runaway pig found in the forest.

Next the reports became more thrilling:
- We are seeing six tanks, they just emerged on the opening.
- Company command post under fire, we must duck.
- If the connection breaks it means the cables have been cut.
- One of them is already in our rear, they have dodged the mines we planted, we have no AT weapons.

Next moment the MG company commander Lt. Salminen phoned us:
- Attention, get me Lt Pesonen.
- Speaking.
- Get to my command post at once with twenty men !

I quicky selected twenty men from our line without knowing what they were needed for.

Arriving at the MG company command post we saw Lt. Salminen and odd looking tubes and clubs. They were Panzerschrecks and Panzerfausts, totally new to us and they appeared to us rather childish for the intended use.

Lt. Salminen told us:
- There is no time to waste on talking. Here are your weapons. We received them a moment ago, and I did not have time to examine them any better. Here are the operation instructions in German. Ammunition is scarce and you must economise it. No test shots allowed, just at tanks. Get going!

Our palaver had been a brief one and we all understood that it was not a moment for detailed weapons training. When we were back in the front line I sent my runner to summon my entire Platoon from the firing line to Capt. Kettunen's command post. In the meanwhile I studied the German language operator's manual which soon informed me on the principles of the operation and use of the new weapons. The weapons were specificed to pierce sixteen to twenty centimeters of armour steel, which much improved my initial impression of them. I gave every man a ten minute express training. Then I split my platoon into two parts. One of them was to use the machine-guns and the other one was to fight the tanks. I estimated that due to the forest the Panzerschreks were next to useless for us. Therefore I posted them with a two man crew , on both sides of the road among the infantry. I equipped the rest of my half platoon with two Panzerfausts per man in addition to their rifles or SMGs.

We had lost the telephone connection to Capt. Halonen's command post. He must have suspected that we had to pull back, and he was not wrong. The remains of the company came in ragged groups while Capt. Halonen himself attempted to rally his scattered outfit by shouting, but he also said that they could not hold against the tanks.

Capt. Kettunen gave me a phone call. He asked:
- Have you received the AT weapons?
- Yes sir.
- Immediately advance along the cart path. Every tank must be destroyed.
- Yes sir.

The very possibility of saying “yes sir” in this situation boosted my self confidence. I had to keep my promise.

I told my half platoon to follow me, then we set out trotting. We knew the enemy was still a little farther off and it would be better for us to have some distance from our firing line to avoid getting between two fires. We were able to advance one kilometer before hearing the clanking of tank tracks behind a small knoll. The noise was sudden and loud. Pvt. Jauhianen dashed on another 20m and took cover in an old foxhole on the right side of the path. The rest of my men took positions on the left side of the path between trees and turfs setting their Panzerfausts into readiness. We had hardly traken cover as a big T-34 came into our view. At the same moment Jauhiainen's Panzerfaust whooshed, a second later there was a muffled sort of bang. The tank was shrouded in smoke. The lad ran away as fast as he could, but the tank had caught fire.

We shouted in one voice:
- Jauhainen, get back!

He stopped and retuned to us running.
- I could not believe that it would be stopped there, he panted with his face white.

- Forward! I commanded and we stopped in the cover of the burning tank. We could not see any other tanks, so I gave orders to proceed, we had made a good start.

We had in our minds become immune to the danger we were exposing ourselves. We were only able to think that there are another five tanks, and only we with our Panzerfausts can eliminate them.

We had proceeded a brief stretch as we again heard the familiar noise. I and Sgt. Penttinen took cover among the trees one on each side of the path. The tank stopped as it was 45 m from us. I now personally experienced what Pvt. Jauhiainen had gone through. If Penttinen misses, I have to score, else we shall become mincemeat, - no hassling now – do not get distracted – now, it is in my sights, press the button, a swishing sound...
I was unaware of my environment and the entire war. I just saw there were two dull dumps in succession on the turret of the tank, then a cloud of smoke billowed out.

For a while my mind was filled with a paralysing sense of relief. When I recovered the enemy infantry had arrived. We started running back to our firing line. Enemy bullets were whistling past us and their shells were exploding all around us.

We stopped close to our firing line and each of us took cover near the horse path. Soon four tanks emerged. The forest was here quite sparse and the tanks spread in it firing all the time. Sgt. Penttinen and Pvt. Jauhiainen had good positions: another two thumps and another two killed T-34s were standing still in front of our firing line.

Enemy infantry had followed us slowly and carefully, stopping at rifle firing distance. It was impossible for us to fight the tanks between two firing lines. The two remaining tanks stayed at a respectable distance and we were unable to get them with our Panzerschrecks due to the trees. Enemy shelling intensified, both field artillery and rockets, but losing four tanks had sapped the willingness of the enemy infantry to attack.


(Suurimäki was abandoned 1 July 1944.)

(1572 words)

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