Appendix to "Running the gauntlet at Juustila", Journal “Kansa Taisteli”, vol.03 1959
JR25, II Btn. WD
Written on ink on a school notebook . Rgt operating at Saimaa canal.
24.8.1941
Coy. Rautanen arrived at Juustila 08.30 having met but little resistance. Coy. Linnakallio that had advanced on the E side of the canal reached at the same time the shooting range terrain. Coy. Linnakallio reached Juustila 10.30hrs.
Due to (our) fast advance the enemy had time just to torch their HQ building. Just one lock gate at Särkijärvi had been blown up. Engineer squad led by 2nd Lt. Kivinen acted fast and prevented the blowing up of Juustila bridge. Also Särkijärvi bridge remained intact. Fuel was found several thousands of liters and explosives were removed from the mined roads 1400 kg.
The Btn. Advanced to Juustila in a 100m wide wedge. 5.Coy. However widened their front to the side at once by fighting so tha the right flank of the Btn was soon leaning on Juustilanjoki river. After Coy. Linnakallio had advanced to Juustila the enemy surrounded the Coy. Coy.CO. Was not aware of this, however. Coy. Kahila was sent to sweep the terrain to Harjula and they relieved Coy. Linnasalo (sic!) from encirclement.
Abt 6 hrs after Juustila had been taken Btn C.O. Met Coy. Haaksalo tasked with the same as Coy Linnakallio. Coy Haaksalo was ordered to go aroung Harjula via E but due to procrastination the action did not have results.
Coy Linnakallio wass ordered to advance to Tinkama island but did not succeed doing it due to hard enemy resistance. The enemy had also blown up the b ridge to the island. Coy Linnakallio was also ordered to secure roads in directions Portinhoikka and Vakkila and patrol to detect the enemy. Jaeger Platoon was ordered to to reconnoitre in the direction of Harjula. Enemies were detected in these directions and it was found that a “motti” was building up. This was secured by the Btn the same night from NE, N, W, S but SE side remained open.
Terrain W of Juustilanjoki river was reconnoitred by patrols. At the same time patrols reconnoitred (sic!) Harjula motti was being crimped from S and SW. Our artillery in lively action.
25.8.41
By 11hrs Harjula motti was cleaned up. On the right BG Det. Saarinen, on the left Coy. Elokas while Coy Haaksalo secured from SE. Due to Coy Haaksalo's slow action some quantity of enemies escaped between Karkuvuori and Ylivesi in the direction of Portinhoikka.
We had time to collect war booty in Harjula motti as follows: 4 AT guns, 20 MGs, 3 50mm and 3 81mm mortars, several LMGs and rifles, 2 tanks, 12 horses, ammunition etc. 50 prisoners were taken.
In the evening a preparatory order was received from the D., telling us to prepare to move near Pilppula rwy stop. In Juustila remained Maj. Suoranta in defence with troops comprising 3 fortifications coys and BG det. Saarinen.
Personal Finnish War Stories
Re: Personal Finnish War Stories - Winter War, Taipale
21.Division was set up of (mostly older) men left over after the Field Army had been mobilized in 1939 Due to lack of military equipment the Division was even more deficiently equipped than the actual Field Army divisions. Some of the troops were wearing civilian clothing and lacking rifles.
It also seems that no WD has survived, or digitised yet?
Niilo Kenjakka
At Taipaleenjoki front end of January 1940
Journal “Kansa Taisteli”, vols. 02, 04, 1959
Former part.
We were marching to Taipale, the starry winter sky is terribly clear, that means visits paid by birds of destruction once again. Our stay at Pyhäjärvi had been just getting used to fire but now we have the serious work ahead of us. (Date must be some day 15 to 22 January 1940. Tr.rem)
Taipale has withstood almost two months since the outbreak of the war and it is now our turn, the men hailing from Kymenlaakso, to prove what we are able to do. We are proceeding on double file with snow creaking under our boots on a sleigh road. We are approaching artillery fire that is frighteningly heavy.
In AM us replacements were received by a speech by the Divisional (21.D ) Commander himself, Col Niilo Hersalo. I can remember the serious essence of the speech, it was a list of cold facts without embellishment, without concealment. That is why it had a shocking effect. It was as if we were considered to be making the supreme sacrifice as a matter of course. The words of our Colonel were “Keep the honour of Taipale, new men, do not be any worse than the old men, do not let fear enter in your hearts. There is a task ahead of you, a task that has been granted only to frw generations. The place you are about to enter is blood-soaked, and you may meet *' but stand it. Stand it like the Company of which only one Runner survived, and he only because he was bringing the message of his brave Company Commander on strong enemy attack. Not a single one of them abandoned their positions but all of them fought to the last against the horde rolling on them. Prove it. Lads, that you are equal to the men fighting here before you.”
Those were words of truth, we knew it, everyone. The sentiment in our hearts was certain. We were their brothers, we shall not yield, either. The day before we marched to the front was a most serious day in my life. The Colonel's speech was so unambiguous that I was sure that I would not return ever from this march. Even the letter I wrote to my young wife was influenced by the sentiment of that date. It was as if my fate would have whispered in my ear that I shall meet my fate out there where the sky is lit by the fires of Hell. I took off the ring that I had worn for three months. I also put my pocket watch, a gift of my dad, in the packet that I sent to my wife. As she had received the letter with the packet she cried for a week. Later I wondered why I had written that letter, but at the date my “daimon” forced me to do it.
Now we are marching for the positions where men are fighting for life and death. Men are heading our way, marked by fighting We feel a great respect for them. Bearded, battle sooted faces make them look old but the softness of features of many a face reveals their young age. They are passing us quietly. There is something in their eyes to show that we are welcome to relieve them for a well deserved rest.
At evening dusk had our march started and now know it is past midnight. We find ourselves now within artillery range. Hissing shells have made us duck down many times already. A brief stop. I order my platoon to disperse to minimize the destructive effect of a shell hit. The place where we sat down for a moment is level pine forest shredded by heavy shelling. Only some trees have their branches left, there are mostly tree stumps around us and the ground is turned up and down into plain sand. We had to leave our skis far back at Kaarnaoja, because skiing is impossible here. Although it is just end of January and winter everywhere else, here we find sand instead of snow.
I am sitting on a stone in darkness and sense that my platoon is nearby. Our Company commander has left for a briefing. We are in the front line near the Battalion command post. I am sitting filled with anticipation, shells are howling overhead and exploding some closer and some farther. Auto weapons rattle can be heard beyond the ridge. I see how one of my lads gets up and goes a little farther. It is a dark night and I cannot see what is drawing my lads, but more and more of them are going there. I go to have a look, too, to order the men to disperse. Now I can see the object of attraction. There is between two cut-off standing pine trunks a pile of contorted frozen bodies. They are Finns, our brothers in arms, men who were here before us. My intention to order dispersal is forgotten, I am mesmerized by the sight. I count at least twenty men lying there. They are in full gear, some of them are wearing ragged dirty white camo suit. My eyes are looking for any officers. I do spot a silver rosette in one lapel. There is an odd feeling filling my heart. A thought arises irresistibly in my mind: when will I find my place among these men who have found the peace. I am falling silent in front of these men receiving us on the torn up terrain of Terenttilä. The lads sense my seriousness and disperse by the by without any order. I cannot know what is going on in their minds but I am guessing that they are feeling like I do.
Our Company commander with his runners emerges from a dugout nearby. At a brief silent order we start advancing. My commander LT. Poutiainen is a man past his middle age, a veteran of the Liberation war. His tall thin countenance is now nervous. His orders are revealing me clearly that he does not fully live up to his words. I can well understand his mindset. He is explaining us that our Company takes over the Mustaoja stronghold and we shall be on our way there.
The clear winter sky is high, cold stars are twinking overhead as we cross the covering ridge and enter the field of fire of infantry weapons. Ahead of me there is a wide stretch of low terrain, a bog and beyond that the enemy in the patch of forest infringing the bog. It is Koukunniemi, I am told, that is in front of my eyes. It is a battlefield, the theatre of heavy fighting that can be appreciated only by men who have been there. Tracers are drawing their arcs overhead and every now and then an enemy flare illuminates the scene, making it ever more terrible.
My thoughts are flashing here and there: my home, the scenery in front of me, my lads crouching behind me. As a bullet swishes past close, I cannot help crouching, as do the lads near me. Ahead of me is Mustaoja, the place where I shall either stand or die. I do not have any idea about the positions, but trudging over the wide bog as the front man of our file on a well trodden path toward a small patch of runty pines I began to suspect that the positions are rather weak.
Enemy projectiles keep seeking our path and as a flare is lit we duck and stay still, waiting the light to go out. The lads are not told to do this, their instinct of self-preservation is the best instructor. Again our silent file is proceeding crouching, holding their rifles, at the positions.
The replacing of manning takes place noiselessly. The men in the foxholes tell me that the enemy is almost within the range of hand grenades , we have to stay very alert, we must not shoot unnecessarily and avoid attracting attention. I can see that the trench is quite primitive, and I find out that it actually is a bog draining ditch from the days of peace, about one kilometer in length and straight, dug in peat. It is difficult for us to pass each other in the ditch and our crouching is soon noticed by the old men. One of them says:
- Don't crouch there now, because soon you shall be doing it for real.
Those bearded and soot-blackened lads have battle serious faces but I can see that they are used to moving about in their foxholes. I am placing my lads in their positions, I am given my share of the trench and a brief order that needs no elaboration:
-Here is your position, the enemy is over there. Do not let them get here.
I am thinking of the long and complicated orders given in my compulsory military training but the reality seems to be brief and precise. My lads are not asking many questions, they just set in the positions I am showing them, some crouching down, some on their knees, and they place their rifles on the peat turfs on the edge of the ditch. With childish obedience they start peering in the darkness of the night.
The enemy is aware of our activities, they know that we are replacing troops that night and there are new men in the line. The sounds of war, tremendous in volume, greet the newcomers.
The change of guard is hasty, the old men are lingering while explaining something to the newcomers. I am moving about in the trench, crouchin and checking the section of my platoon. There is the 1st squad, here the 2nd and the 3rd, the 4th with their LMG is split in two to the wings of our section. The trench bottom is uneven and one is about to stumble in the dark. When we came in I saw a dead man in the communications trench and judging by the colour of his tunic he was one of ours. It was not until here in the trench that it occurred to me: why have our dead not been evacuated? After a few days in the line I realised that there is no time to evacuate the dead, evacuating the wounded is quite enough .
Finally it is dawning and the first day in our positions breaks. We are full of expectation.
One of the old men had whispered when leaving:
- Stand by to get your baptism by fire next morning, because the enemy knows that there are greenhorns here and they shall make an attempt. Stand your ground so that we do not have to come for a counterstrike.
I am preparing my lads with a small anticipation in my chest. Crates of hand grenades are passed on in the trench and everyone takes a pile of them next to him. Machine guns in the ends and middle of the trench are tested by brief bursts. LMG magazines are filled. Intermittent shooting has been going on all night from our side, too, but as the day breaks the lads start getting ever more targets in their sights, that is why firing is intense at times.
As the day is getting lighter I am looking attentively about. There is the no-man's-land in front of me. It is made up of shell holes almost touching each other, and the remains of stunted pines are standing upright like sticks. I can also easily see the enemy positions that are slightly elevated. Weare now moving about in the trench more carefully.
At dawn 2ndLt Palmu, the commander of another platoon, was gone. He had been moving around carelessy and in one spot where an aerial bomb had carved a huge gap in the parapet of the trench he had been staying in one place for too long. An enemy bullet hit his stomach. Having heard his cry I hurried to the scene and managed to pull him to the bottom of the trench. I noted that he had been hit and had him evacuated. Later I heard that he had perished in the first aid post. A couple of more had been wounded by bullets and left our ranks before dawn.
As we manned the line there was one man for every ten meters, and now I began to feel uncertain as it dawned and I knew how thin a line there was against the mass of enemies. I was thinking: how are we going to succeed? But before the next night I began to believe that our thin line shall hold after all. Four days later as there were lads only one for every twenty-five (25) meters I was sure that the enemy shall not be able to get in our trench.
Latter part.
It was not yet full daylight as we began to take whip gun slashes (45mm AT). The previous Platoon leader had said that this gun was placed on a hillock far on the swamp at the same line with our trench. The explosion of its projectile had a nasty ripping sound and I never got used to it.
But we felt ever more exposed as four enemy fighter planes attacked us at a very low altitude and a sharp MG burs began to rake our straight trench. It gave me the creeps as there was a steady rattle overhead and the dirty snow was puffing on the parapet or parados. I looked up and saw the attacker tilt his light plane to see the resuilts of his firing. This very first visit thinned our ranks.
We withstood well our baptism by fire in the first day. The enemy attacked as expected. Our trench extended far to the left and the communications trench connected with the right wing end of it. Thus the left wing of our trench constituted a kind of bag. I was very close to the left limit and as Palmu had left the ranks I had to take over his platoon, too, so I found myself in the extreme left wing. We noticed that the enemy was moving about at our left and I estimated they are going to outflank us on the bog in our rear.
I explained the situation to my lads, pointing out the enemies that were bouncing up and down while approaching the gap in our lines beyond our trench. I told my men not to open fire without my order, we must let the enemy get very close.
My tension increased and I also saw that the LMG gunner was nervous. I had also hastily ordered a MG without tripod next to me, telling the gunner to shoot at my order only.
Tension was itching our nerves, I was waiting for a larger mass to accumulate in the gap and hoped that they would be within the range of my SMG.
It was as if something would have broken at the moment as we opened fire, such strong was the impulse of auto weapons grouped next to each other. I witnessed something that is not worth describing. Immobile lumps began to remain on the snow in front of us. A tremendous yell of terror and lamenting was mixed with the sound of our shooting.
However I had to hastily return to the trench as the enemy launched their attack right in front of our trench. Firing was enormous. I was no more able to hear any human voices among the crackle but every lad knew what was to be done. As the first enemy hand grenade popped against our parapet it signalled that they were within the reach of our hand grenades, too.
Frenzied by the battle I ripped off hand grenade pins by the rings as fast as I could. I threw off my right mitt and pulled the rings with my bare middle finger, but the pins were stiff and my finger was badly torn. I had to resort to a rifle with bayonet attached. I slipped grenade rings on the bayonet and the show went on.
Our intense rain of hand grenades stopped the attackers and they did not reach our trench. My “greenhorn” men had demonstrated to the enemy that we are no worse than the men we had replaced. We had withstood our baptism by fire and we felt satisfied as firing died down. I walked down the trench, looking at the traces of battle and talking with my lads. “Gramps”, the oldest of us, was standing on his knees while keeping a lookout with his rifle in readiness. He was fumbling for a piece of crispbread in his bread bag. I looked at Gramps, this old man was chewing at his piece of dry bread while keeping a lookout, he did not grumble about not getting hot food, he accepted it as it was announced that it was impossible to bring any up to the trench. We were promised to get soup but it remained a promise. By then it was evening, night came but no hot food.
Constant hostilities continued all through the night and enemy artillery kept firing, it strafed everywhere. Soon we learned to detect by the sound which ones are coming at us, which ones to Kaarnaoja and which to strongholds Four or Five. Steady thunder at Kirvesmäki, a little farther off, proved that Yrjö Jylhä's lads were staying up.
Having defended Mustaoja for three days and nights without sleeping and hot food we began to wait for replacement. Constant nervous tension gave the lads force to withstand tiredness but I began to see carelessness due to fatigue.
It is surprising how a man's true nature emerges in a war, and one can find many kinds of characters in one's own outfit. What kind of opposites were the two of my lads who left the ranks the same day as the enemy attacked heavily!
One of them, ad Pfc., was hit by a bullet that damaged his thumb slightly. The man started moaning and at once started striving at the first aid post. Whereas Cpl. Juutinen, the leader of my LMG team, took a bullet through his shoulder as the battle was raging at top rate. I found myself next to him and heard him mutter something about getting hit. Since he went on shooting I did not pay any more attention to him. Not until he was unable to keep shooting and handed over his LMG to his assistant, I saw that his right arm was slack. Yet he stayed put and tried to load magazines. Seeing blood dripping from his sleeve I went up to him and asked where he had been hit.
It is the shoulder I think but I can still go on.
However I saw that he was getting pale cheeks and as I asked him to unbutton his tunic I saw that his chest was covered with blood and there was an evil looking wound in his right shoulder. I applied my first aid bandage on the wound and told the man to head for the first aid post. The lad resisted and as he finally was about to leave he asked:
- Lieutenant, Sir, maybe you have a message for the Battalion command post, I could deliver it?
Although wounded he remembered that men are needed in the first line and there is not a Runner available every time one would be needed. He was a fine lad whom I remember as a brave fighter.
Finally we were relieved after fighting a consecutive six days and nights in the same trrench.
We hardly were able to believe it was true but yet one night we found ourselves side by side in a very crowded dugout. It was in the small hours as I finally fell asleep, sleeping such a sweet sleep as only a tired man is able to appreciate. The dugout was so small that one platoon could just scarcely pack in and so low that one had to walk crouching. I had got a narrow slot in the top bunk where I had to sleep on my side. Restless in mind but bodily exhausted I slept in the stuffy air of the dugout. My ears picked up movement in the dugout corridor, the door was pulled open and a nervous voice shouted:
-Alarm !
I was still hald asleep as I dropped down from the bunk. I had slept deeply but only a couple of hours. So this is supposed to be rest, I sighed in my mind, tired. It was a bustle in the congestion. Nervous men were looking for their gear and I could hear dissatisfied grumbling all around. A small hurricane lamp threw its meager light and the air was suffocoatingly thick.
Dawn had broken as we crawled out of our hole and equipped ourselves with cartridges and hand grenades. Having reported to the Company commander with my platoon I learned that in Terenttilä the enemy had taken stronghold Four and we had to evict them.
I had no idea where Four was but soon our company was on the move. A sparse file wearing dirty snow camo suits advanced over open ground broken into black dirt and sand for the stump covered ground between Four and Five. Artillery fire was something out of ordinary. Shells were coming in as if from a conveyor belt, a wide one.
In the last sheltered spot the company moved to attack formation and my platoon was on the extreme left wing. I made sure that my Squads were assembled, then we went over the covering ridge at the fire that met our running platoon. The whine of bullets was just gentle tunes compared with the tremendous artillery fire. As the barrage was left behind I saw to my amazement that Cpl. Leppänen, a squaddie running on my side, had been buried by soil thrown up by a nearby shell explosion. I asked how many were left behind, and I was told:
- None, Sir.
This gave me some encouragement and I dashed with my platoon for the given objective, the communications trench at the seam of Four and Five. Enemy infantry fire did not abate but took its toll from us.
We reach the communications trench connecting the strongholds, and it is empty. The trench is only knee-deep. I am looking for the company commander and find him half-way up the trench. Commanders of second and third platoon join us. The Company Commander has taken a bullet right in the middle of the front of his helmet but fortunately he had been wearing it high and his skull remained intact. Yet the hit left a mark that we soon found out.
I had crawled to the enemy end of the communications trench and find that also Five is in enemy hands, and men in peaked caps are sneaking at us in the communications trench. I set up a MG and a couple of LMGs in position next to me and we stand our ground there. Our situation is most uncomfortable . The enemy is advancing on both sides and we are shot at from two directions. Our trench is shallow, lads have been killed and remained on the bottom of the trench, further hindering our already restricted movements.
Finding myself at the end of the trench I point out a stump to the LMG gunner next to me:
- See, there is an enemy MG over there, get him.
The obedient young man had hardly fired one magazine as I heard a nasty smack and the LMG is silent. I see how the lad collapses without saying a word down in the trench and his helmet slides off to his neck, held by the strap. I call another LMG gunner to replace the killed one. I recognise him, he is Immmonen, a calm man, I show him the spot and warn him to avoid the fate of the man laying next to us.
Immonen, a calm lad hailing from Petäjävesi, starts disciplining the enemies trying to fly at our faces. I have turned my head to look at him and as soon as I look ahead a bullet hits the spot where my head had been a second ago immobile. I can guess that we are facing a sniper, and I am about to warn Immonen, seeing that he has climbed quite high up the parapet , shooting at full rate. But Immonen drops down in the trench, pulling his LMG on his chest he falls next to his comrade.
I am not yet giving up. I order the LMG gunner who is firing along the trench to change his field of fire and get the MG on our right that is out of range for my SMG, and I shall take care of the enemies trying to advance up the trench. I ordered the third platoon commander to stay at the very rear end of the trench. Then I am told that the Company Commander has been wounded and evacuated. I take the company in my command.
A runner crawls up to me and gives me an order by the Battalion Commander:
-The company to stay put. Help is on the way and counterstrike is about to start. As you see men in white assaulting on your right they are ours and you join the counterstrike.
We have not been forgotten, after all !
I do not think anybody checked how long we had fought but yells of joy were invigorating as we found that our line in white was advancing on our right. Joining the attack was a relief as we could abandon the cursed spot where we had been suffering.
The counterstrike was successful and all that remained was to clear the trench. The commander of our Battalion, a young Captain, arrived to lead it. Having met my commander in the heat of the battle he felt so close to me. Together we reached the right edge of Four where the Captain ordered me to roll the Four clean up to the left wing tip. The trench was shallow, we had to run crouching to protect us from the enemy fire. Having run for one straight stretch I had stopped crouching as a hand grenade was thrown from a shell hole from the side about 3 meters in front of me in the trench.
We retaliated, giving several there where we had got only one, the result was that we reached the head of the communications trench.
I did not realise how the day passed by until the dusk began to fall and the brief winter's day was about to end. I was stumbling to the rear and soon found new men were comoing to take over the positions. In my mind I repeated my own introduction to Taipale. Now we were old men, proven by fire. I felt proud as I saw the new men glancing around.
A day's work was done and the clear starry sky heralded another night. The beautiful Orion shone on the sky as I was seeking and enquiring about the dugout of my company, and finally it was found. I had strayed from the others and now I returned like a resurrected corpse. My lads had been told that I had strayed and taken a scratch on my head taken during the rolling of the trench. Their banter told me that they were happy that I had returned alive, they already had believed that I had been killed. Our Sarge was there, too, wishing me a pleasant welcome and moreover, he handed me a parcel mailed by my wife.
Never was a parcel from home so welcome as then. A clean set of warm underwear was as if handed over by fate and the delicacies revived my hope to return home some day. Happy with the knowledge that Taipale was still holding we slept our well-deserved sleep.
(4732 words)
It also seems that no WD has survived, or digitised yet?
Niilo Kenjakka
At Taipaleenjoki front end of January 1940
Journal “Kansa Taisteli”, vols. 02, 04, 1959
Former part.
We were marching to Taipale, the starry winter sky is terribly clear, that means visits paid by birds of destruction once again. Our stay at Pyhäjärvi had been just getting used to fire but now we have the serious work ahead of us. (Date must be some day 15 to 22 January 1940. Tr.rem)
Taipale has withstood almost two months since the outbreak of the war and it is now our turn, the men hailing from Kymenlaakso, to prove what we are able to do. We are proceeding on double file with snow creaking under our boots on a sleigh road. We are approaching artillery fire that is frighteningly heavy.
In AM us replacements were received by a speech by the Divisional (21.D ) Commander himself, Col Niilo Hersalo. I can remember the serious essence of the speech, it was a list of cold facts without embellishment, without concealment. That is why it had a shocking effect. It was as if we were considered to be making the supreme sacrifice as a matter of course. The words of our Colonel were “Keep the honour of Taipale, new men, do not be any worse than the old men, do not let fear enter in your hearts. There is a task ahead of you, a task that has been granted only to frw generations. The place you are about to enter is blood-soaked, and you may meet *' but stand it. Stand it like the Company of which only one Runner survived, and he only because he was bringing the message of his brave Company Commander on strong enemy attack. Not a single one of them abandoned their positions but all of them fought to the last against the horde rolling on them. Prove it. Lads, that you are equal to the men fighting here before you.”
Those were words of truth, we knew it, everyone. The sentiment in our hearts was certain. We were their brothers, we shall not yield, either. The day before we marched to the front was a most serious day in my life. The Colonel's speech was so unambiguous that I was sure that I would not return ever from this march. Even the letter I wrote to my young wife was influenced by the sentiment of that date. It was as if my fate would have whispered in my ear that I shall meet my fate out there where the sky is lit by the fires of Hell. I took off the ring that I had worn for three months. I also put my pocket watch, a gift of my dad, in the packet that I sent to my wife. As she had received the letter with the packet she cried for a week. Later I wondered why I had written that letter, but at the date my “daimon” forced me to do it.
Now we are marching for the positions where men are fighting for life and death. Men are heading our way, marked by fighting We feel a great respect for them. Bearded, battle sooted faces make them look old but the softness of features of many a face reveals their young age. They are passing us quietly. There is something in their eyes to show that we are welcome to relieve them for a well deserved rest.
At evening dusk had our march started and now know it is past midnight. We find ourselves now within artillery range. Hissing shells have made us duck down many times already. A brief stop. I order my platoon to disperse to minimize the destructive effect of a shell hit. The place where we sat down for a moment is level pine forest shredded by heavy shelling. Only some trees have their branches left, there are mostly tree stumps around us and the ground is turned up and down into plain sand. We had to leave our skis far back at Kaarnaoja, because skiing is impossible here. Although it is just end of January and winter everywhere else, here we find sand instead of snow.
I am sitting on a stone in darkness and sense that my platoon is nearby. Our Company commander has left for a briefing. We are in the front line near the Battalion command post. I am sitting filled with anticipation, shells are howling overhead and exploding some closer and some farther. Auto weapons rattle can be heard beyond the ridge. I see how one of my lads gets up and goes a little farther. It is a dark night and I cannot see what is drawing my lads, but more and more of them are going there. I go to have a look, too, to order the men to disperse. Now I can see the object of attraction. There is between two cut-off standing pine trunks a pile of contorted frozen bodies. They are Finns, our brothers in arms, men who were here before us. My intention to order dispersal is forgotten, I am mesmerized by the sight. I count at least twenty men lying there. They are in full gear, some of them are wearing ragged dirty white camo suit. My eyes are looking for any officers. I do spot a silver rosette in one lapel. There is an odd feeling filling my heart. A thought arises irresistibly in my mind: when will I find my place among these men who have found the peace. I am falling silent in front of these men receiving us on the torn up terrain of Terenttilä. The lads sense my seriousness and disperse by the by without any order. I cannot know what is going on in their minds but I am guessing that they are feeling like I do.
Our Company commander with his runners emerges from a dugout nearby. At a brief silent order we start advancing. My commander LT. Poutiainen is a man past his middle age, a veteran of the Liberation war. His tall thin countenance is now nervous. His orders are revealing me clearly that he does not fully live up to his words. I can well understand his mindset. He is explaining us that our Company takes over the Mustaoja stronghold and we shall be on our way there.
The clear winter sky is high, cold stars are twinking overhead as we cross the covering ridge and enter the field of fire of infantry weapons. Ahead of me there is a wide stretch of low terrain, a bog and beyond that the enemy in the patch of forest infringing the bog. It is Koukunniemi, I am told, that is in front of my eyes. It is a battlefield, the theatre of heavy fighting that can be appreciated only by men who have been there. Tracers are drawing their arcs overhead and every now and then an enemy flare illuminates the scene, making it ever more terrible.
My thoughts are flashing here and there: my home, the scenery in front of me, my lads crouching behind me. As a bullet swishes past close, I cannot help crouching, as do the lads near me. Ahead of me is Mustaoja, the place where I shall either stand or die. I do not have any idea about the positions, but trudging over the wide bog as the front man of our file on a well trodden path toward a small patch of runty pines I began to suspect that the positions are rather weak.
Enemy projectiles keep seeking our path and as a flare is lit we duck and stay still, waiting the light to go out. The lads are not told to do this, their instinct of self-preservation is the best instructor. Again our silent file is proceeding crouching, holding their rifles, at the positions.
The replacing of manning takes place noiselessly. The men in the foxholes tell me that the enemy is almost within the range of hand grenades , we have to stay very alert, we must not shoot unnecessarily and avoid attracting attention. I can see that the trench is quite primitive, and I find out that it actually is a bog draining ditch from the days of peace, about one kilometer in length and straight, dug in peat. It is difficult for us to pass each other in the ditch and our crouching is soon noticed by the old men. One of them says:
- Don't crouch there now, because soon you shall be doing it for real.
Those bearded and soot-blackened lads have battle serious faces but I can see that they are used to moving about in their foxholes. I am placing my lads in their positions, I am given my share of the trench and a brief order that needs no elaboration:
-Here is your position, the enemy is over there. Do not let them get here.
I am thinking of the long and complicated orders given in my compulsory military training but the reality seems to be brief and precise. My lads are not asking many questions, they just set in the positions I am showing them, some crouching down, some on their knees, and they place their rifles on the peat turfs on the edge of the ditch. With childish obedience they start peering in the darkness of the night.
The enemy is aware of our activities, they know that we are replacing troops that night and there are new men in the line. The sounds of war, tremendous in volume, greet the newcomers.
The change of guard is hasty, the old men are lingering while explaining something to the newcomers. I am moving about in the trench, crouchin and checking the section of my platoon. There is the 1st squad, here the 2nd and the 3rd, the 4th with their LMG is split in two to the wings of our section. The trench bottom is uneven and one is about to stumble in the dark. When we came in I saw a dead man in the communications trench and judging by the colour of his tunic he was one of ours. It was not until here in the trench that it occurred to me: why have our dead not been evacuated? After a few days in the line I realised that there is no time to evacuate the dead, evacuating the wounded is quite enough .
Finally it is dawning and the first day in our positions breaks. We are full of expectation.
One of the old men had whispered when leaving:
- Stand by to get your baptism by fire next morning, because the enemy knows that there are greenhorns here and they shall make an attempt. Stand your ground so that we do not have to come for a counterstrike.
I am preparing my lads with a small anticipation in my chest. Crates of hand grenades are passed on in the trench and everyone takes a pile of them next to him. Machine guns in the ends and middle of the trench are tested by brief bursts. LMG magazines are filled. Intermittent shooting has been going on all night from our side, too, but as the day breaks the lads start getting ever more targets in their sights, that is why firing is intense at times.
As the day is getting lighter I am looking attentively about. There is the no-man's-land in front of me. It is made up of shell holes almost touching each other, and the remains of stunted pines are standing upright like sticks. I can also easily see the enemy positions that are slightly elevated. Weare now moving about in the trench more carefully.
At dawn 2ndLt Palmu, the commander of another platoon, was gone. He had been moving around carelessy and in one spot where an aerial bomb had carved a huge gap in the parapet of the trench he had been staying in one place for too long. An enemy bullet hit his stomach. Having heard his cry I hurried to the scene and managed to pull him to the bottom of the trench. I noted that he had been hit and had him evacuated. Later I heard that he had perished in the first aid post. A couple of more had been wounded by bullets and left our ranks before dawn.
As we manned the line there was one man for every ten meters, and now I began to feel uncertain as it dawned and I knew how thin a line there was against the mass of enemies. I was thinking: how are we going to succeed? But before the next night I began to believe that our thin line shall hold after all. Four days later as there were lads only one for every twenty-five (25) meters I was sure that the enemy shall not be able to get in our trench.
Latter part.
It was not yet full daylight as we began to take whip gun slashes (45mm AT). The previous Platoon leader had said that this gun was placed on a hillock far on the swamp at the same line with our trench. The explosion of its projectile had a nasty ripping sound and I never got used to it.
But we felt ever more exposed as four enemy fighter planes attacked us at a very low altitude and a sharp MG burs began to rake our straight trench. It gave me the creeps as there was a steady rattle overhead and the dirty snow was puffing on the parapet or parados. I looked up and saw the attacker tilt his light plane to see the resuilts of his firing. This very first visit thinned our ranks.
We withstood well our baptism by fire in the first day. The enemy attacked as expected. Our trench extended far to the left and the communications trench connected with the right wing end of it. Thus the left wing of our trench constituted a kind of bag. I was very close to the left limit and as Palmu had left the ranks I had to take over his platoon, too, so I found myself in the extreme left wing. We noticed that the enemy was moving about at our left and I estimated they are going to outflank us on the bog in our rear.
I explained the situation to my lads, pointing out the enemies that were bouncing up and down while approaching the gap in our lines beyond our trench. I told my men not to open fire without my order, we must let the enemy get very close.
My tension increased and I also saw that the LMG gunner was nervous. I had also hastily ordered a MG without tripod next to me, telling the gunner to shoot at my order only.
Tension was itching our nerves, I was waiting for a larger mass to accumulate in the gap and hoped that they would be within the range of my SMG.
It was as if something would have broken at the moment as we opened fire, such strong was the impulse of auto weapons grouped next to each other. I witnessed something that is not worth describing. Immobile lumps began to remain on the snow in front of us. A tremendous yell of terror and lamenting was mixed with the sound of our shooting.
However I had to hastily return to the trench as the enemy launched their attack right in front of our trench. Firing was enormous. I was no more able to hear any human voices among the crackle but every lad knew what was to be done. As the first enemy hand grenade popped against our parapet it signalled that they were within the reach of our hand grenades, too.
Frenzied by the battle I ripped off hand grenade pins by the rings as fast as I could. I threw off my right mitt and pulled the rings with my bare middle finger, but the pins were stiff and my finger was badly torn. I had to resort to a rifle with bayonet attached. I slipped grenade rings on the bayonet and the show went on.
Our intense rain of hand grenades stopped the attackers and they did not reach our trench. My “greenhorn” men had demonstrated to the enemy that we are no worse than the men we had replaced. We had withstood our baptism by fire and we felt satisfied as firing died down. I walked down the trench, looking at the traces of battle and talking with my lads. “Gramps”, the oldest of us, was standing on his knees while keeping a lookout with his rifle in readiness. He was fumbling for a piece of crispbread in his bread bag. I looked at Gramps, this old man was chewing at his piece of dry bread while keeping a lookout, he did not grumble about not getting hot food, he accepted it as it was announced that it was impossible to bring any up to the trench. We were promised to get soup but it remained a promise. By then it was evening, night came but no hot food.
Constant hostilities continued all through the night and enemy artillery kept firing, it strafed everywhere. Soon we learned to detect by the sound which ones are coming at us, which ones to Kaarnaoja and which to strongholds Four or Five. Steady thunder at Kirvesmäki, a little farther off, proved that Yrjö Jylhä's lads were staying up.
Having defended Mustaoja for three days and nights without sleeping and hot food we began to wait for replacement. Constant nervous tension gave the lads force to withstand tiredness but I began to see carelessness due to fatigue.
It is surprising how a man's true nature emerges in a war, and one can find many kinds of characters in one's own outfit. What kind of opposites were the two of my lads who left the ranks the same day as the enemy attacked heavily!
One of them, ad Pfc., was hit by a bullet that damaged his thumb slightly. The man started moaning and at once started striving at the first aid post. Whereas Cpl. Juutinen, the leader of my LMG team, took a bullet through his shoulder as the battle was raging at top rate. I found myself next to him and heard him mutter something about getting hit. Since he went on shooting I did not pay any more attention to him. Not until he was unable to keep shooting and handed over his LMG to his assistant, I saw that his right arm was slack. Yet he stayed put and tried to load magazines. Seeing blood dripping from his sleeve I went up to him and asked where he had been hit.
It is the shoulder I think but I can still go on.
However I saw that he was getting pale cheeks and as I asked him to unbutton his tunic I saw that his chest was covered with blood and there was an evil looking wound in his right shoulder. I applied my first aid bandage on the wound and told the man to head for the first aid post. The lad resisted and as he finally was about to leave he asked:
- Lieutenant, Sir, maybe you have a message for the Battalion command post, I could deliver it?
Although wounded he remembered that men are needed in the first line and there is not a Runner available every time one would be needed. He was a fine lad whom I remember as a brave fighter.
Finally we were relieved after fighting a consecutive six days and nights in the same trrench.
We hardly were able to believe it was true but yet one night we found ourselves side by side in a very crowded dugout. It was in the small hours as I finally fell asleep, sleeping such a sweet sleep as only a tired man is able to appreciate. The dugout was so small that one platoon could just scarcely pack in and so low that one had to walk crouching. I had got a narrow slot in the top bunk where I had to sleep on my side. Restless in mind but bodily exhausted I slept in the stuffy air of the dugout. My ears picked up movement in the dugout corridor, the door was pulled open and a nervous voice shouted:
-Alarm !
I was still hald asleep as I dropped down from the bunk. I had slept deeply but only a couple of hours. So this is supposed to be rest, I sighed in my mind, tired. It was a bustle in the congestion. Nervous men were looking for their gear and I could hear dissatisfied grumbling all around. A small hurricane lamp threw its meager light and the air was suffocoatingly thick.
Dawn had broken as we crawled out of our hole and equipped ourselves with cartridges and hand grenades. Having reported to the Company commander with my platoon I learned that in Terenttilä the enemy had taken stronghold Four and we had to evict them.
I had no idea where Four was but soon our company was on the move. A sparse file wearing dirty snow camo suits advanced over open ground broken into black dirt and sand for the stump covered ground between Four and Five. Artillery fire was something out of ordinary. Shells were coming in as if from a conveyor belt, a wide one.
In the last sheltered spot the company moved to attack formation and my platoon was on the extreme left wing. I made sure that my Squads were assembled, then we went over the covering ridge at the fire that met our running platoon. The whine of bullets was just gentle tunes compared with the tremendous artillery fire. As the barrage was left behind I saw to my amazement that Cpl. Leppänen, a squaddie running on my side, had been buried by soil thrown up by a nearby shell explosion. I asked how many were left behind, and I was told:
- None, Sir.
This gave me some encouragement and I dashed with my platoon for the given objective, the communications trench at the seam of Four and Five. Enemy infantry fire did not abate but took its toll from us.
We reach the communications trench connecting the strongholds, and it is empty. The trench is only knee-deep. I am looking for the company commander and find him half-way up the trench. Commanders of second and third platoon join us. The Company Commander has taken a bullet right in the middle of the front of his helmet but fortunately he had been wearing it high and his skull remained intact. Yet the hit left a mark that we soon found out.
I had crawled to the enemy end of the communications trench and find that also Five is in enemy hands, and men in peaked caps are sneaking at us in the communications trench. I set up a MG and a couple of LMGs in position next to me and we stand our ground there. Our situation is most uncomfortable . The enemy is advancing on both sides and we are shot at from two directions. Our trench is shallow, lads have been killed and remained on the bottom of the trench, further hindering our already restricted movements.
Finding myself at the end of the trench I point out a stump to the LMG gunner next to me:
- See, there is an enemy MG over there, get him.
The obedient young man had hardly fired one magazine as I heard a nasty smack and the LMG is silent. I see how the lad collapses without saying a word down in the trench and his helmet slides off to his neck, held by the strap. I call another LMG gunner to replace the killed one. I recognise him, he is Immmonen, a calm man, I show him the spot and warn him to avoid the fate of the man laying next to us.
Immonen, a calm lad hailing from Petäjävesi, starts disciplining the enemies trying to fly at our faces. I have turned my head to look at him and as soon as I look ahead a bullet hits the spot where my head had been a second ago immobile. I can guess that we are facing a sniper, and I am about to warn Immonen, seeing that he has climbed quite high up the parapet , shooting at full rate. But Immonen drops down in the trench, pulling his LMG on his chest he falls next to his comrade.
I am not yet giving up. I order the LMG gunner who is firing along the trench to change his field of fire and get the MG on our right that is out of range for my SMG, and I shall take care of the enemies trying to advance up the trench. I ordered the third platoon commander to stay at the very rear end of the trench. Then I am told that the Company Commander has been wounded and evacuated. I take the company in my command.
A runner crawls up to me and gives me an order by the Battalion Commander:
-The company to stay put. Help is on the way and counterstrike is about to start. As you see men in white assaulting on your right they are ours and you join the counterstrike.
We have not been forgotten, after all !
I do not think anybody checked how long we had fought but yells of joy were invigorating as we found that our line in white was advancing on our right. Joining the attack was a relief as we could abandon the cursed spot where we had been suffering.
The counterstrike was successful and all that remained was to clear the trench. The commander of our Battalion, a young Captain, arrived to lead it. Having met my commander in the heat of the battle he felt so close to me. Together we reached the right edge of Four where the Captain ordered me to roll the Four clean up to the left wing tip. The trench was shallow, we had to run crouching to protect us from the enemy fire. Having run for one straight stretch I had stopped crouching as a hand grenade was thrown from a shell hole from the side about 3 meters in front of me in the trench.
We retaliated, giving several there where we had got only one, the result was that we reached the head of the communications trench.
I did not realise how the day passed by until the dusk began to fall and the brief winter's day was about to end. I was stumbling to the rear and soon found new men were comoing to take over the positions. In my mind I repeated my own introduction to Taipale. Now we were old men, proven by fire. I felt proud as I saw the new men glancing around.
A day's work was done and the clear starry sky heralded another night. The beautiful Orion shone on the sky as I was seeking and enquiring about the dugout of my company, and finally it was found. I had strayed from the others and now I returned like a resurrected corpse. My lads had been told that I had strayed and taken a scratch on my head taken during the rolling of the trench. Their banter told me that they were happy that I had returned alive, they already had believed that I had been killed. Our Sarge was there, too, wishing me a pleasant welcome and moreover, he handed me a parcel mailed by my wife.
Never was a parcel from home so welcome as then. A clean set of warm underwear was as if handed over by fate and the delicacies revived my hope to return home some day. Happy with the knowledge that Taipale was still holding we slept our well-deserved sleep.
(4732 words)
-
John Hilly
- Member
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Re: Personal Finnish War Stories
Thanks for this.Lotvonen wrote:Appendix to "Running the gauntlet at Juustila", Journal “Kansa Taisteli”, vol.03 1959
JR25, II Btn. WD
Written on ink on a school notebook . Rgt operating at Saimaa canal.
With best, J-P
"Die Blechtrommel trommelt noch!"
Re: Personal Finnish War Stories
KevOs.6 in action in 1941.The outfit comprised just two rifle companies and one MG company. Comparing personal memoir with war diaries.
J. Nurmi
Motti within motti
Journal “Kansa Taisteli”, vol. 02 1959, pp. 45 map
We have attacked from Iijärvi to Riihilahti village in Uukuniemi parish. The village is situated on the shore of Pyhäjärvi lake, and Ristilahti bay constitutes its limit to North. One enemy BG battalion had crowded in the village when retreating and their main body blocked the Finnish troops' attack from the West.
Kev.Os.6 has made it until the terrain South of the village. There I was ordered to take a few men and occupy a hill next to the Ristilahti road, likely to be free of enemies.
I took along one MG squad and headed for the hill that we soon found to be occupied. However we took this hill easily by complete surprise. It was only now that we understood what kind of a place we had taken because the distance to the road was just 30m, and the road connected the enemy battalion in Ristilahti village with their main force. Also we were able to fire far to Pyhäjärvi . I found we were completely blocking the retreating road of the enemy battalion in Ristilahti.
From what I saw I could guess what we could except and at once we began to dig setting up a hedgehog defence. We had but started as we already spotted a larger enemy outfit approaching, probalby to assist their men in the “motti”. We were so immersed in digging that the nearest enemies were at the foot of our hill before we saw them, but as we opened fire at them they were completely taken by surprise and they withdrew having suffered losses. They did leave behind for us one MG and a couple of LMGs. We could not hope to be left alone for any longer time, so we went on digging as fast as we could.
Soon it started, too. First artillery and mortars opened fire at us across Pyhäjärvi lake but the shelling went long. Soon we spotted that enemy on the far side of the road was preparing an attack. We opened a lively fire at them but to my surprise I found that we were being attacked from the right, too, and the nearest enemies were but a few dozen meters from us. We directed some of our firepower at them and we just managed to repel them as we found that enemy was moving about in our rear and soon also on our left. Thank G-d they did not attack all at the same time so we were able to fire at the closest enemies in turn. I saw that although we had a share in encircling the enemy battalion, we also found ourselves sitting in a “motti” because the connection with our own forces was totally cut off.
This uncomfortably looking situation continued for the evening and the next night. Yet we were hoping to receive soon assistance, food and cartridges. Our own cartridge stock had been spent, so every time the enemy pulled back for a while, we in turn sneaked at the nearest enemy dead and confiscated their weapons and cartridges.
At dawn we started hearing ominous noise from the direction of Mensuvaara. Soon there was a tank driving down the road, but to our relief it was just an armoured car. We knew that this one would be unable to climb our hill. The car stopped at us and swivelled its turret gun at us and soon we were taking 45mm shells in our hill positions. We could not do anything about the car since we were out of hand grenades, and we could not even dream of AT rifles or artillery support. The car kept firing as long as it pleased and then went on for the “motti”. It did not stay there but for one hour before returning, stopping in the same spot and firing a few times before leaving.
A couple of hours later the same show was repeated, we guessed that the enemy is evacuating the “motti” with the help of that armoured car while we are looking on helplessly . One of our lads saved the day, however. He had crawled to frisk the dead enemies and fortunately found one who had three 3-kilo satchel charges in his pack. We distributed these hastily. I took one and began to crawl along the side of a brook for the road. I did not make it to my destination before the armoured car came charging, this time it did not stop. In the meanwhile I managed to reach the road next to a culvert and began to wait for the car to return. It did not take a long time before I heard it was coming – I pulled the lanyard and placed my charge on the road, then crouching in the culvert. An explosion. I knew I had been succesful. Cautiously I peeked and found that the car was taken out by the explosion, because the turret hatch and the door had been flung wide open. I took a look inside which was a mess.
It did not take long before we heard rumbling of armour again , this time there were several of them coming. I had found, however, that these armoured cars were lacking any floor armour. A mere hand grenade would knock out them as long as you can make it explode under them. My lads had managed to find some hand grenades among the dead enemies. Now there were three of us creeping for the road ditch.
This time the knocked out car blocked the road for the approaching ones which were forced to stop enabling us to engage them. Soon as many as seven destroyed armoured cars were standing on the narrow road at our stronghold.
By now we had collected a fine set of weapons from the enemy. As far as I can remember we had two Mgs, seventeen Degtjarjov LMGs and a huge quantity of cartridges and filled magazines. All of this was needed because the enemy again launched an attack at our stronghold from every direction. The “neighbours” certainly did not know that we were just twelve wild looking brothers in arms that were hard pressed to cope with the situation. We did not have time even to load our weapons but we hastily had to take a new one that we had at hand. The LMGs we had collected from the enemy were now needed. They did not jam even though there was sand rustling in the moving parts!
Another night was gone, we had not believed that we would have survived but actually we had made it without any kind of losses. “Truth is more wonderful than fiction” we opined.
The next forenoon was calm but in the afternoon the enemy again started pounding our positions with artillery and mortars. Judging by our firepower they assumed there was a larger outfit in our stronghold.
- Soon Pfc. Mäkinen reported that a splinter had wounded him and disabled his MG. At the same moment the enemy yelled a wild “uraa” from the “motti” and I saw that the enemy was charging to break out of the encirclement. Part of the enemy force attacked to the left of us and we opened fire with our surviving MG at the terrain. We just “opened” fire because immediately a shell splinter pierced the water jacket of the MG and it fell silent.
At the same time an armoured car approached us at a brisk speed, followed by horse drawn wagons and a minor part of enemy troops. I caught hold of a Russian's small satchel charge and ran down to the bend of the road in the cover of a ridge. I made it just in time ahead of the armoured car. I flung my charge on the road, it exploded under the armoured car and set it in flames. In the meanwhile the lads on the hill were firing at top rate.
As the enemies found that they were not able to break through they ran to the lake shore, undressed in seconds and bounced in the water to swim across the bay. Only four or five men made it because the rest were shot in the water like ducks.
By now the “motti had went off” and we established contact with our troops, getting food and at least a brief spell of well earned rest after three tough days and nights.
The first friends we saw after the “motti” had been wiped out was the Commander of our Division, Col. Blick. He came with his Runner to the scene, saw the great number of dead enemies and destroyed armoured cars. He exclaimed: “Did you do this mischief with only this outfit?”
( 1472 words)
For comparison:
A. From the war diary of unit 3070 (Kev.Os.6):
* 3.7.41 *
*0.30 hrs* Patrol 2nd Lt. Vihijärvi comprising 30 men was given orders to advance in the direction of Jaakkima road, the objective was the railway line Elisenvaara-Niva, the task to find out about the enemy occupation at the direction of the road and to blow up the said railway. The patrol advanced to the perimeter of Meriö village, where it was subjected to intense firing, whereby 2nd Lt Vihijärvi and one men were killed and one man wounded. Of the men MIA yesterday one was found, KIA. Patrol returned 04.26hrs.
11.40hrs The Detachment received a new commander, Capt. Sutela who immediately took over the command of the detachment.
19.15hrs Lt. Paloheimo received orders to join Capt. Kuvaja´s btn.to secure the road from Ristilahti to SE, at the brook line 500m SE from Huuhtamäki. Btn. Kuvaja's task was to block the Ristilahti “motti” at its SE side.
Our losses: KIA 2nd Lt. Vihijärvi +1 and wounded 2 NCO +10 men.
Date 4.7.41
06.00hrs Alert to help btn. Kuvaja at the Ristilahti “motti” where they had met harder than expected resistance. Simovaara terrain was cleansed of enemies with small patrol skirmishes. 1st Coy. Was ordered to group for attack in Valkealampi terrain. Later the order was amended into a securing task because btn. Kuvaja had been able to advance.
Our losses: KIA 2 NCO + 3 men, wounded 5 NCO +9 men.
Date: 5.7.41
Situation at the Ristilahti “motti” still unclear. Kev.Os.6 was still supporting the actions of btn. Kuvaja. The Detachment was temporarily reinforced by 2. Armoured Car Platoon, strenght 1+9+10 and ten armoured cars. 2nd Lt. Huovinen was wounded, Lt. Nurmi and 2nd Lt. Havumäki performed patrol tasks. 5 enemy armoured cars destroyed.
Our losses: KIA 1 NCO + 6 men, wounded 1 officer, 2 NCO, 14 men.
Date: 6.7.41
Ristilahti – Mensuvaara road was finally cut off and the enemy in Ristilahti was surrounded in a “motti” that was softened by our artillery and infantry weapons. Part of the enemies in the “motti” managed to break out by swimming and floating on timber across Ristilahti. MG Coy. Commander Lt. Siikki slightly wounded.
Our losses: KIA 2 men, wounded 1 officer, 2 NCO, 10 men.
Date: 7.7.41
Action has turned into position warfare and the troops were set in defence. However the enemy did not launch any counter-attack. Our armoured cars patrolled successfully on the Ristilahti road. The commander of the Armoured Car Platoon Lt. Ilvesmäki was wounded and two armoured cars were knocked out of action. 12 POW taken. Patrolling and securing tasks.
Our losses: KIA 4 NCO + 6 men, wounded 3 officers, 4 NCO, 17 men.
B: From the KKK/KevOs.6 (3073) WD :
5.7.1941
At ¼ 8.00 the entire Coy. Set out to Siintovaara terrain. We set out immediately having had our morning tea because the Oufit was already being waited for in that terrain.
As soon as we were there the Oufit was placed in battle grouping in the terrain about 1km from Elementary school crossroads. MG platoons were subjected to different Jaeger Coys.
Advancing was started immediately after grouping. The Oufit made it until the Elementary School open terrain without contacting the enemy.
At the crossroads, the E direction was secured by a couple of rifle squads and a ½ MG Platoon.
(Margin remark: Drawing of the grouping?)
I and II Platoons continued advancing to W on the S side of the road. Half-Platoon of the III Platoon remained at the disposal of Capt. Kuvaja. The Outfit arrived at the brook line without meeting the enemy. Positions were dug at the brook, expecting enemy from the W.
As the enemy was not seen, 2 rifle Platoons and IIMG Platoon attacked over the brook to reach the Ristlahti village open ground. Couple of rifle platoons and I MG platoon stayed in the old positions. In Ristilahti village, S of it, we met own troops and to the E well armed enemies. Quickly we carried out occupation of the village open ground E to W whereby the entire road was left to the enemy for their use. In the village the enemy had burrowed themselves in the fundaments of the houses and in stone cow barn, and dug in deep.
As the II MG platoon was in the process of occupying Ristilahti village a tank came down the road from E to the village open ground, then some more, that fired their cannons and LMGs at our positions. Also one enemy MG and some riflemen had penetrated our line, who started to harass in our rear our I MG Platoon and Lt. Nurmi's platoon. A slightly confusing situation ensued, as we had to fight to the opposite direction of what we initially had planned for.
The situation, however, was sorted out during the night.
6.7.44
Occupation went on as yesterday. During AM we were for the first time fed in the positions since the morning tea in Sikopohja. Our artillery firing is most miserable. The F.O.O. Was at the edge of the village open ground and tried to have a couple of houses shot in pieces but did not succeed. The worst was that from every strike some shells fell on our own whereby one man was killed and several wounded. This gave rise to suspicions about the honesty of the F.O.O. He was Lt. Liuhtanen. AT men were eagerly in action. They mined the road from the brook line whereby one armoured car ran into a ditch, remaining there able to fire. It was destroyed by an AT rifle later. The lads torched one tank with an AT gun and it was KO in one instant.
7.7.
The positions remained about as they had been. On the crossroads E of the schoolhouse a very intense battle was fought, whereby Ssgt. Erkkilä's MG ½ platoon and Pfc. Valkeapää's AT
gun squad excelled specially. Mainly thanks to them we managed to repel the Russki attack. The situation in Ristilahti village had become such that our troops were supposed to attack from E and W. Preparations were carried out all day. Artillery preparation started at 1600hrs but miraculously the Russkies started their own preparation at the same moment, consequently the first shells were flying at the same time. We had to give up our attack and move to the hill S of the village open ground in defence positions as it was assumed that the Russkies are going to attack. This surprising change made us think that the Russki were somehow aware of our attack. After this amazing situation, however, the attack was continued and the forest to the W of the village open ground was swept. The terrain between the road and the lake was attacked by one Jaeger platoon and ½ platoon of II MG platoon. Their attack did not get a good start because it was not supported by artillery and our own firepower was too weak. In this attack we had our first killed men. LMG fire directed from a tank happened to hit Cpl. Harald Sahlgren's MG whereby he and Pvt. Algvist (sic!) took a burst in their bodies, dying instantly. This attack failed and the troops were scattered.
The same happened to I Platoon and all Jaeger platoons. The troops were rallied by the by and we turned in to rest here and there . Parts of our Coy. Were again set in securing tasks at the swamp SE of the village open ground and Kantola hill.
C. From the war diary of KevOs.6 1K.
This war diary is uniquely muddled and hard to read and make out. It is written on a school notebook mostly with a pencil. The dates do not match in any intellegible manner. The text appears to be written in several sequences. No information of Lt. Nurmi's action.
04.7.1941
1-3hrs after artillery preparation Coy. Engaged enemy at Siintovaara . Siintovaara terrain swept free of enemy with small patrol skirmishes. The enemy retreated to Ristilahti terrain where hard battles on both sides (sic!)
6/7.7.41. (sic!) Enemy charged out of Ristilahti village after artillery preparation. The purpose was to break out of encirclement. Part of the enemy managed to penetrate through our line but most of them were destroyed before the enemies made it to their own side.
IIPlatoon mostly engaged in recce patrols led by 2nd Lt. Kiuru in Siintovaara terrain. Period 4.7.-8.7.41 the Coy. Did not get hardly any rest. The night of 8.7.-9.7-41 another hard battle of the village. The enemy tried to break out of encirclemen using cavalry, some of which succeeded but most were destroyed. The battles to take Ristilahti village were in a way a “wild-goose chase”. The sweep of the village started 9.7.41. Plenty of war booty taken, field guns, horses and other material.
Men killed in Ristilahti battle:Sgt. Rossi, Cpl. Veikkola Tarmo, Paramedic Cpl. Kukka-aho, Kauko Olavi, Jaeger Maunula J., Ssgt. Niemelä, Jaeger Heinäharju, Kosti J., Kauppinen, toivo, Kaskinen, Jussi, Ekblad, Toivo, Sallinen, Nestor, and Sipinen, Jussi. (8.7.41 Company rallied and recuperation. (Text inserted seemingly afterwards, tr.rem.)).
5.7.41(In the margin!)Supply Platoon had to engage an enemy patrol of 30 ro 40 men in a hard battle in Ahvenlampi terrain, the said battle might have had unpleasant consequences if one Battalion of our Regiment had not come to assistance by chance. This battle was about 2h in duration and the enemy patrol was totally destroyed in the Orphanage promontory. One man KIA and two WIA. The patrol sent to intercept the enemy patrol was led by Staff Sgt. Tiikki and Staff Sgt. Koivula. The last mentioned was wounded. The Enemy patrol was equipped as battle patrol with good auto weapons as equipment. Coy. supply platoon laid their hands on LMG mags, one pistol, a field telephone set, auto rifles and papers on which the enemy had written info gained from POWs to pass it on by telephone to their side. The papers were returned to the HQ.
Next date: 17.00
D. From the war diary of KevOs6. 2K.
03.7.41
02.00hrs Wild air bombardments near the camp area at an arty battery and columns on the road. Intensse action during small hours.
Div. Target well reached according to info.
07.00hrs Morning coffee
Coy.Cdr visiting somewhere, stand-in 2ndLt. Havumäki. Missing men are returning.
08.00hrs The platoon patrolling last night walked to an unsecured and misguidedly described open place (Where? Margin remark) into enemy MG fire, had to retreat with trouble for a long stretch. Bikes abandoned, patrol leader 2nd Lt. Vihijärvi and several others were left dead on the battlefied. So the enterprise failed. Maybe it was too hard a task : human endurance and will to act have limits. (?. Margin remark.)
9-11.00hrs Washing clothing at the sandy beach of Syvälahti. Men cleanded, men revived.
Air activity goes on but it seems that the enemy has not been able to detect our camp in this batch of birch forest with white trunks.
12.00hrs Info on arrival of new outfit commander Capt. Sutela's arrival. Previous well liked Cavalry Capt. Silen returns as Coy.Cdr. Common satisfaction reigning due to this case, so welcome!
14.00hrs New Commander inspected the Coy. Transmitted us thanks from HQ to the action of our outfit. He uttered some very selected words about the nature of our battle and exhorted us to be encouraged by the thanks to new and greater achievements.
04.7.41
In small hours enemy aircraft bombed ans strafed heavily the arty. Batteries next to our camp. We were not attacked.
08.00hrs Coy received orders to mount on bikes and head for Ristilahti road to secure it. The order was carried out and defence lines set up.
05.07.41
Battle for the control of the road. 2 to 3 armoured cars destroyed.
06.07.1941
Fighting went on by the by. We were subjected to heavy mortar strafe. Enemy attacked but we retook the road with a counterstrike. One house was taken and our open flank was plugged.
07.07.1941
Fighting continues. Failed enemy attempt to break through.
J. Nurmi
Motti within motti
Journal “Kansa Taisteli”, vol. 02 1959, pp. 45 map
We have attacked from Iijärvi to Riihilahti village in Uukuniemi parish. The village is situated on the shore of Pyhäjärvi lake, and Ristilahti bay constitutes its limit to North. One enemy BG battalion had crowded in the village when retreating and their main body blocked the Finnish troops' attack from the West.
Kev.Os.6 has made it until the terrain South of the village. There I was ordered to take a few men and occupy a hill next to the Ristilahti road, likely to be free of enemies.
I took along one MG squad and headed for the hill that we soon found to be occupied. However we took this hill easily by complete surprise. It was only now that we understood what kind of a place we had taken because the distance to the road was just 30m, and the road connected the enemy battalion in Ristilahti village with their main force. Also we were able to fire far to Pyhäjärvi . I found we were completely blocking the retreating road of the enemy battalion in Ristilahti.
From what I saw I could guess what we could except and at once we began to dig setting up a hedgehog defence. We had but started as we already spotted a larger enemy outfit approaching, probalby to assist their men in the “motti”. We were so immersed in digging that the nearest enemies were at the foot of our hill before we saw them, but as we opened fire at them they were completely taken by surprise and they withdrew having suffered losses. They did leave behind for us one MG and a couple of LMGs. We could not hope to be left alone for any longer time, so we went on digging as fast as we could.
Soon it started, too. First artillery and mortars opened fire at us across Pyhäjärvi lake but the shelling went long. Soon we spotted that enemy on the far side of the road was preparing an attack. We opened a lively fire at them but to my surprise I found that we were being attacked from the right, too, and the nearest enemies were but a few dozen meters from us. We directed some of our firepower at them and we just managed to repel them as we found that enemy was moving about in our rear and soon also on our left. Thank G-d they did not attack all at the same time so we were able to fire at the closest enemies in turn. I saw that although we had a share in encircling the enemy battalion, we also found ourselves sitting in a “motti” because the connection with our own forces was totally cut off.
This uncomfortably looking situation continued for the evening and the next night. Yet we were hoping to receive soon assistance, food and cartridges. Our own cartridge stock had been spent, so every time the enemy pulled back for a while, we in turn sneaked at the nearest enemy dead and confiscated their weapons and cartridges.
At dawn we started hearing ominous noise from the direction of Mensuvaara. Soon there was a tank driving down the road, but to our relief it was just an armoured car. We knew that this one would be unable to climb our hill. The car stopped at us and swivelled its turret gun at us and soon we were taking 45mm shells in our hill positions. We could not do anything about the car since we were out of hand grenades, and we could not even dream of AT rifles or artillery support. The car kept firing as long as it pleased and then went on for the “motti”. It did not stay there but for one hour before returning, stopping in the same spot and firing a few times before leaving.
A couple of hours later the same show was repeated, we guessed that the enemy is evacuating the “motti” with the help of that armoured car while we are looking on helplessly . One of our lads saved the day, however. He had crawled to frisk the dead enemies and fortunately found one who had three 3-kilo satchel charges in his pack. We distributed these hastily. I took one and began to crawl along the side of a brook for the road. I did not make it to my destination before the armoured car came charging, this time it did not stop. In the meanwhile I managed to reach the road next to a culvert and began to wait for the car to return. It did not take a long time before I heard it was coming – I pulled the lanyard and placed my charge on the road, then crouching in the culvert. An explosion. I knew I had been succesful. Cautiously I peeked and found that the car was taken out by the explosion, because the turret hatch and the door had been flung wide open. I took a look inside which was a mess.
It did not take long before we heard rumbling of armour again , this time there were several of them coming. I had found, however, that these armoured cars were lacking any floor armour. A mere hand grenade would knock out them as long as you can make it explode under them. My lads had managed to find some hand grenades among the dead enemies. Now there were three of us creeping for the road ditch.
This time the knocked out car blocked the road for the approaching ones which were forced to stop enabling us to engage them. Soon as many as seven destroyed armoured cars were standing on the narrow road at our stronghold.
By now we had collected a fine set of weapons from the enemy. As far as I can remember we had two Mgs, seventeen Degtjarjov LMGs and a huge quantity of cartridges and filled magazines. All of this was needed because the enemy again launched an attack at our stronghold from every direction. The “neighbours” certainly did not know that we were just twelve wild looking brothers in arms that were hard pressed to cope with the situation. We did not have time even to load our weapons but we hastily had to take a new one that we had at hand. The LMGs we had collected from the enemy were now needed. They did not jam even though there was sand rustling in the moving parts!
Another night was gone, we had not believed that we would have survived but actually we had made it without any kind of losses. “Truth is more wonderful than fiction” we opined.
The next forenoon was calm but in the afternoon the enemy again started pounding our positions with artillery and mortars. Judging by our firepower they assumed there was a larger outfit in our stronghold.
- Soon Pfc. Mäkinen reported that a splinter had wounded him and disabled his MG. At the same moment the enemy yelled a wild “uraa” from the “motti” and I saw that the enemy was charging to break out of the encirclement. Part of the enemy force attacked to the left of us and we opened fire with our surviving MG at the terrain. We just “opened” fire because immediately a shell splinter pierced the water jacket of the MG and it fell silent.
At the same time an armoured car approached us at a brisk speed, followed by horse drawn wagons and a minor part of enemy troops. I caught hold of a Russian's small satchel charge and ran down to the bend of the road in the cover of a ridge. I made it just in time ahead of the armoured car. I flung my charge on the road, it exploded under the armoured car and set it in flames. In the meanwhile the lads on the hill were firing at top rate.
As the enemies found that they were not able to break through they ran to the lake shore, undressed in seconds and bounced in the water to swim across the bay. Only four or five men made it because the rest were shot in the water like ducks.
By now the “motti had went off” and we established contact with our troops, getting food and at least a brief spell of well earned rest after three tough days and nights.
The first friends we saw after the “motti” had been wiped out was the Commander of our Division, Col. Blick. He came with his Runner to the scene, saw the great number of dead enemies and destroyed armoured cars. He exclaimed: “Did you do this mischief with only this outfit?”
( 1472 words)
For comparison:
A. From the war diary of unit 3070 (Kev.Os.6):
* 3.7.41 *
*0.30 hrs* Patrol 2nd Lt. Vihijärvi comprising 30 men was given orders to advance in the direction of Jaakkima road, the objective was the railway line Elisenvaara-Niva, the task to find out about the enemy occupation at the direction of the road and to blow up the said railway. The patrol advanced to the perimeter of Meriö village, where it was subjected to intense firing, whereby 2nd Lt Vihijärvi and one men were killed and one man wounded. Of the men MIA yesterday one was found, KIA. Patrol returned 04.26hrs.
11.40hrs The Detachment received a new commander, Capt. Sutela who immediately took over the command of the detachment.
19.15hrs Lt. Paloheimo received orders to join Capt. Kuvaja´s btn.to secure the road from Ristilahti to SE, at the brook line 500m SE from Huuhtamäki. Btn. Kuvaja's task was to block the Ristilahti “motti” at its SE side.
Our losses: KIA 2nd Lt. Vihijärvi +1 and wounded 2 NCO +10 men.
Date 4.7.41
06.00hrs Alert to help btn. Kuvaja at the Ristilahti “motti” where they had met harder than expected resistance. Simovaara terrain was cleansed of enemies with small patrol skirmishes. 1st Coy. Was ordered to group for attack in Valkealampi terrain. Later the order was amended into a securing task because btn. Kuvaja had been able to advance.
Our losses: KIA 2 NCO + 3 men, wounded 5 NCO +9 men.
Date: 5.7.41
Situation at the Ristilahti “motti” still unclear. Kev.Os.6 was still supporting the actions of btn. Kuvaja. The Detachment was temporarily reinforced by 2. Armoured Car Platoon, strenght 1+9+10 and ten armoured cars. 2nd Lt. Huovinen was wounded, Lt. Nurmi and 2nd Lt. Havumäki performed patrol tasks. 5 enemy armoured cars destroyed.
Our losses: KIA 1 NCO + 6 men, wounded 1 officer, 2 NCO, 14 men.
Date: 6.7.41
Ristilahti – Mensuvaara road was finally cut off and the enemy in Ristilahti was surrounded in a “motti” that was softened by our artillery and infantry weapons. Part of the enemies in the “motti” managed to break out by swimming and floating on timber across Ristilahti. MG Coy. Commander Lt. Siikki slightly wounded.
Our losses: KIA 2 men, wounded 1 officer, 2 NCO, 10 men.
Date: 7.7.41
Action has turned into position warfare and the troops were set in defence. However the enemy did not launch any counter-attack. Our armoured cars patrolled successfully on the Ristilahti road. The commander of the Armoured Car Platoon Lt. Ilvesmäki was wounded and two armoured cars were knocked out of action. 12 POW taken. Patrolling and securing tasks.
Our losses: KIA 4 NCO + 6 men, wounded 3 officers, 4 NCO, 17 men.
B: From the KKK/KevOs.6 (3073) WD :
5.7.1941
At ¼ 8.00 the entire Coy. Set out to Siintovaara terrain. We set out immediately having had our morning tea because the Oufit was already being waited for in that terrain.
As soon as we were there the Oufit was placed in battle grouping in the terrain about 1km from Elementary school crossroads. MG platoons were subjected to different Jaeger Coys.
Advancing was started immediately after grouping. The Oufit made it until the Elementary School open terrain without contacting the enemy.
At the crossroads, the E direction was secured by a couple of rifle squads and a ½ MG Platoon.
(Margin remark: Drawing of the grouping?)
I and II Platoons continued advancing to W on the S side of the road. Half-Platoon of the III Platoon remained at the disposal of Capt. Kuvaja. The Outfit arrived at the brook line without meeting the enemy. Positions were dug at the brook, expecting enemy from the W.
As the enemy was not seen, 2 rifle Platoons and IIMG Platoon attacked over the brook to reach the Ristlahti village open ground. Couple of rifle platoons and I MG platoon stayed in the old positions. In Ristilahti village, S of it, we met own troops and to the E well armed enemies. Quickly we carried out occupation of the village open ground E to W whereby the entire road was left to the enemy for their use. In the village the enemy had burrowed themselves in the fundaments of the houses and in stone cow barn, and dug in deep.
As the II MG platoon was in the process of occupying Ristilahti village a tank came down the road from E to the village open ground, then some more, that fired their cannons and LMGs at our positions. Also one enemy MG and some riflemen had penetrated our line, who started to harass in our rear our I MG Platoon and Lt. Nurmi's platoon. A slightly confusing situation ensued, as we had to fight to the opposite direction of what we initially had planned for.
The situation, however, was sorted out during the night.
6.7.44
Occupation went on as yesterday. During AM we were for the first time fed in the positions since the morning tea in Sikopohja. Our artillery firing is most miserable. The F.O.O. Was at the edge of the village open ground and tried to have a couple of houses shot in pieces but did not succeed. The worst was that from every strike some shells fell on our own whereby one man was killed and several wounded. This gave rise to suspicions about the honesty of the F.O.O. He was Lt. Liuhtanen. AT men were eagerly in action. They mined the road from the brook line whereby one armoured car ran into a ditch, remaining there able to fire. It was destroyed by an AT rifle later. The lads torched one tank with an AT gun and it was KO in one instant.
7.7.
The positions remained about as they had been. On the crossroads E of the schoolhouse a very intense battle was fought, whereby Ssgt. Erkkilä's MG ½ platoon and Pfc. Valkeapää's AT
gun squad excelled specially. Mainly thanks to them we managed to repel the Russki attack. The situation in Ristilahti village had become such that our troops were supposed to attack from E and W. Preparations were carried out all day. Artillery preparation started at 1600hrs but miraculously the Russkies started their own preparation at the same moment, consequently the first shells were flying at the same time. We had to give up our attack and move to the hill S of the village open ground in defence positions as it was assumed that the Russkies are going to attack. This surprising change made us think that the Russki were somehow aware of our attack. After this amazing situation, however, the attack was continued and the forest to the W of the village open ground was swept. The terrain between the road and the lake was attacked by one Jaeger platoon and ½ platoon of II MG platoon. Their attack did not get a good start because it was not supported by artillery and our own firepower was too weak. In this attack we had our first killed men. LMG fire directed from a tank happened to hit Cpl. Harald Sahlgren's MG whereby he and Pvt. Algvist (sic!) took a burst in their bodies, dying instantly. This attack failed and the troops were scattered.
The same happened to I Platoon and all Jaeger platoons. The troops were rallied by the by and we turned in to rest here and there . Parts of our Coy. Were again set in securing tasks at the swamp SE of the village open ground and Kantola hill.
C. From the war diary of KevOs.6 1K.
This war diary is uniquely muddled and hard to read and make out. It is written on a school notebook mostly with a pencil. The dates do not match in any intellegible manner. The text appears to be written in several sequences. No information of Lt. Nurmi's action.
04.7.1941
1-3hrs after artillery preparation Coy. Engaged enemy at Siintovaara . Siintovaara terrain swept free of enemy with small patrol skirmishes. The enemy retreated to Ristilahti terrain where hard battles on both sides (sic!)
6/7.7.41. (sic!) Enemy charged out of Ristilahti village after artillery preparation. The purpose was to break out of encirclement. Part of the enemy managed to penetrate through our line but most of them were destroyed before the enemies made it to their own side.
IIPlatoon mostly engaged in recce patrols led by 2nd Lt. Kiuru in Siintovaara terrain. Period 4.7.-8.7.41 the Coy. Did not get hardly any rest. The night of 8.7.-9.7-41 another hard battle of the village. The enemy tried to break out of encirclemen using cavalry, some of which succeeded but most were destroyed. The battles to take Ristilahti village were in a way a “wild-goose chase”. The sweep of the village started 9.7.41. Plenty of war booty taken, field guns, horses and other material.
Men killed in Ristilahti battle:Sgt. Rossi, Cpl. Veikkola Tarmo, Paramedic Cpl. Kukka-aho, Kauko Olavi, Jaeger Maunula J., Ssgt. Niemelä, Jaeger Heinäharju, Kosti J., Kauppinen, toivo, Kaskinen, Jussi, Ekblad, Toivo, Sallinen, Nestor, and Sipinen, Jussi. (8.7.41 Company rallied and recuperation. (Text inserted seemingly afterwards, tr.rem.)).
5.7.41(In the margin!)Supply Platoon had to engage an enemy patrol of 30 ro 40 men in a hard battle in Ahvenlampi terrain, the said battle might have had unpleasant consequences if one Battalion of our Regiment had not come to assistance by chance. This battle was about 2h in duration and the enemy patrol was totally destroyed in the Orphanage promontory. One man KIA and two WIA. The patrol sent to intercept the enemy patrol was led by Staff Sgt. Tiikki and Staff Sgt. Koivula. The last mentioned was wounded. The Enemy patrol was equipped as battle patrol with good auto weapons as equipment. Coy. supply platoon laid their hands on LMG mags, one pistol, a field telephone set, auto rifles and papers on which the enemy had written info gained from POWs to pass it on by telephone to their side. The papers were returned to the HQ.
Next date: 17.00
D. From the war diary of KevOs6. 2K.
03.7.41
02.00hrs Wild air bombardments near the camp area at an arty battery and columns on the road. Intensse action during small hours.
Div. Target well reached according to info.
07.00hrs Morning coffee
Coy.Cdr visiting somewhere, stand-in 2ndLt. Havumäki. Missing men are returning.
08.00hrs The platoon patrolling last night walked to an unsecured and misguidedly described open place (Where? Margin remark) into enemy MG fire, had to retreat with trouble for a long stretch. Bikes abandoned, patrol leader 2nd Lt. Vihijärvi and several others were left dead on the battlefied. So the enterprise failed. Maybe it was too hard a task : human endurance and will to act have limits. (?. Margin remark.)
9-11.00hrs Washing clothing at the sandy beach of Syvälahti. Men cleanded, men revived.
Air activity goes on but it seems that the enemy has not been able to detect our camp in this batch of birch forest with white trunks.
12.00hrs Info on arrival of new outfit commander Capt. Sutela's arrival. Previous well liked Cavalry Capt. Silen returns as Coy.Cdr. Common satisfaction reigning due to this case, so welcome!
14.00hrs New Commander inspected the Coy. Transmitted us thanks from HQ to the action of our outfit. He uttered some very selected words about the nature of our battle and exhorted us to be encouraged by the thanks to new and greater achievements.
04.7.41
In small hours enemy aircraft bombed ans strafed heavily the arty. Batteries next to our camp. We were not attacked.
08.00hrs Coy received orders to mount on bikes and head for Ristilahti road to secure it. The order was carried out and defence lines set up.
05.07.41
Battle for the control of the road. 2 to 3 armoured cars destroyed.
06.07.1941
Fighting went on by the by. We were subjected to heavy mortar strafe. Enemy attacked but we retook the road with a counterstrike. One house was taken and our open flank was plugged.
07.07.1941
Fighting continues. Failed enemy attempt to break through.
Re: Personal Finnish War Stories
The author (1914-2014) was an author of young adult literature, (married with a Briton for some 10 years) .
The text gives some views about the period of trench warfare. It seems that the actual JR5 war diary is not digitized.
AINO- MARJA RÄSÄNEN-LEMAITRE
Journal “Kansa Taisteli” vol. 02, 1959
03.33.hrs – extracts from my war diary
20.March.1943. Maaselkä isthmus, 4.D, JR5, I Battalion. Commander dugout “Sorsanpesä” (Duck's nest; the CO was Maj . Sorsa = duck, tr.rem.)
I have been in the front line just one month but during the last week I have sensed an odd unrest in our Battalion. Today I found out that something unusual is going on. I visited the Command Post with Miss Hilkka, a volunteer “Sotilaskoti” canteen operator. During our weekly sauna visit we had yesterday met the CO and agreed to pay a visit to him. The mood was initially stiff there, too, as in any place during our first visit. A woman is a rare guest over here, and now there were two of us. The dugout was more grand than any we had seen in these parts. There was a fire in the fireplace. We had to sit down in armchairs, carved out of huge tree trunks. Hilkka was playing chess with the Chaplain and I was chatting with the CO and the messenger officer.
-We have had a lot to do lately, said the CO, Maj. Sorsa.
It was touching to see how they cherished their dog. It was fed vitamins and cod liver oil.
There are no other females but this dog, they told us as we were wondering. A soldier was busy making coffee in the kitchen dugout. He was nick-named “Geisha”, I am not sure if he liked that. But he was busy.
We did not talk about anything special because the CO had to answer the phone all the time. I was now sure about “taking the hill” that the lads had been whispering about, allowing us on purpose overhear to show us how well versed they were in the military secrets of the command post. I did not know the codewords but those were often used during phone conversations so something important is really going on.
Coffee was served with lingonberries preserved in water.
We were escorted with the dog to our home dugout. It was slightly frosty, starry sky and an hint of spring in the air. As I asked when they would be coming to visit us in return, they smiled wistfully (believing that we did not know anything) and a little sadly the CO answered:
Next Thursday, maybe...You see, we should continue warfare before that...
The enemy, too, appears to have anticipated something. I hate the nightly flying intruding devil. Last night the lamp on our table shook as he dropped a bomb in the vicinity. We have not been able to get decent sleep for many a night as he keeps hovering overhead. At first we hear some indistinct irregular buzzing – as if he were running on a wood gas generator – he is twisting and turning about. Having pondered about it enough he drops a bomb. Some time later another, before leaving to reload. Last night AA guns were firing at him. Red balls were racing up to the sky. The aeroplane dropped a parachute light. It was glowing and illuminating the snow mercilessly. At the same time our propaganda-automobile was preaching to the neighbours and playing polka tunes to them.
Boys in the Sotilaskoti canteen are serious though trying to cover it up with gallows humour. About one hundred men are going to join the attack to take the hill. It is said that a nasty twist of the front line must be eliminated, a salient that the enemy is using to create havoc.
I feel like crying when looking at the lads. Some of them shall remain there, some others will be hospitalized.
The radio is playing “Mandschurian hills” and the lads are tapping with the soles of their boots. Two lads are engaging in a wrestling match, they are young and clumsy like bear cubs. It is my guess that they shall be participating in the attack, and they could not think of anything else to entertain their pals. Someone is joking that there are too many mouths to feed and the rank and file must be culled. Another one remembers that none of the officers have risen in rank lately, so the big brass need promotion and decorations. Our officers have not been seen in our canteen. Instead a lot of neighbouring battalions' officers. Big thing are going to happen. We are kept busy.
Today our canteen has been in a hurry. Skiers in white are drinking substitute coffee in endless quantities. They are not the men of our Battalion but from the Regimental Jaeger platoon, we are told. They shall participate in the show. Their shining white camo and countenance reveals it. We are sure that the attack shall be launched the next night. Actually tomorrow is scheduled as our “sugar day'” but I am switching saccharine to sugar as the lads have hinted that they may not need any sugar tomorrow. It is not much: half a cube of sugar for each cup of substitute coffee and some condensed milk. But it delights the lads enormously.
The atmosphere gets the more nervous the later it gets. Jokes are not cracking, neither is swearing fluent. I usually set a fine of one FIM for each profanity but today I make believe I am not hearing any.
I am anticipating the attack like I used to wait for the school dances. The lads are expecting a lot of fire because men from other units have been brought in and all kinds of ammunitions have been replenished. Many lads that I know visited the canteen. Although they did not say who will be joining the attack I could tell it by their looks. I promised to save “Sitros” for them because we were waiting for a shipment. I had just got from Savujärvi chidren's fairy tale books that probably were intended as gifts to children at home. One 2nd Lieutenant bought one and put it in his backpack as his mascot. Some other men did likewise and again the spirits were a little encouraged. We were polite to each other and in every manner behaving as if we were in for a long separation.
I visited 2nd Lt. Kitunen's dugout. Someone was playing his mandolin. Others are talking funny small talk even though most of them have the mission ahead of rthem. There is no nervousness in Sassi either. A phone message from Orion was received. A horse was sent to the front but they did not take me along. After a while the man returned, whistling and in full canter we learned that the man was sol lightly wounded that he returned back to the front line.
In our home dugout we are having our meal. The pea soup is not quite successful. It has been cooked too hastily, Hilkka tells me. Junior 2nd Lt Andersson drops in , we offer our soup to him but he is just shaking his head. It is too strong food for a man with restless mind. But he accepts our crepes. Knock at the door, there is the command post runner, young and scrawny Matti. He, too, gets a crepe right from the pan, sizzling hot and fragrant.
All the evening lads are dropping in to say a few words, but no one is staying any longer time. Everyone is plagued by restlessness. The Company CO from the neighbouring dugout, Capt. Välimaa tells us that there is going to be a bit shooting next night (as if we would hear about it now for the first time). There is no reason to get scared. Should there be a breakthrough, they shall take care of us, we shall have a way to the direction of the Division. It is best for us to stay in the dugout and not peek out. Then he left, an ex high jump champion, with his long legs
24 March 1943 03.38hrs
Five minutes ago the battle started and our men are attacking. Actually they are not yet attacking because every artillery piece is still in action and securing. But they are ready in their positions. I woke up from my slumber as the artillery barrage started.
At first it was just one mass of noise, as if several thunderstorms were colliding, what a tremendous symphony of war. Now I can tell the thuds of heavy artillery, the cracks of AT guns and the “klucks” of mortars. They are like instruments of an orchestra. This time the entire Maaselkä isthmus isn playing. Every piece withing range is firing. Though terrible it is also handsome, effective, even beautiful. There is a pause of a few seconds until another volley is fired.
I get dressed and peek out of the dugout. What a wonderful moonshine! Artillery muzzle flames are flashing in several directions and whining projectiles are flying overhead. Machine gun noise is heard out of doors only as its constant patter merges in the orchestra. So far I have not detected any counterfire. It is just that I am fearing, because in my mind I am following the progress of the sissis and the infantry. (Afterwards Capt. Välimaa told me that as the lads started skiing to attack the snow has hissed like sea). All I can do is to cross my hands and think of those who are out there. I am not sure who is there but as far as the lads told me officers Ollikainen, Lehtonen, Vaarma, Vuori and Orkamo with their man are to attack. Three of the last named visited the canteen last night. Only Orkamo was as calm and considerate as he always used to be. He is not
talking much but he is friendly and polite. The lads say that he is a real man althouh very young. As to the others I have met them once only-...
04.10hrs
The chorus of noise has ended. Only an AT gun is firing in the direction of our window. Heavy guns seems to be active in the direction of Hilkka's bed and some weapon is banging at the door. We are estimating the battle relating to our dugout. The battle was to start at 3.33hours and it is not a secret anymore. Neither is the battle the course of which is unknown to us, we have just heard the sounds in our dugout .
At dawn horses assigned to the first aid post are passing us. Wounded men! I was told by our neighbours that the hill was ours. The lads, however, did not seem happy. They say that there were lots of wounded and some killed, too. But it is not known who.
I lit up our stove and started making coffee substitute. Every now and then I am getting out to look at the sleds passing by. I can see that the drivers are very tired. All lhe morning they have been driving back and forth between the scene of action and the first aid post despite firing. I hop on the runners of a sled transporting a man with brown hair, called Repo. He is hailing from Kurkijoki, from my home parish. He is badly wounded but conscious. At times Repo is moaning because the road is bumpy. Too many horses have been driving there during the last hours. All I can do is to encourage the man because we are already near the firs aid post.
The firsrt aid post is surrounded by stretchers, bloody pieces of clothing, helmets...I slip in the tent where the doctor (Boris Balin if I remember correctly) and his boys are working quiently and deftly. They were bandaging, splinting, wrapping wounds. One paramedic was busy with a syringe and a Sergeant was keeping records.
Here I was told that Ortamo had been wounded in his head by a shell that had hit four more men. His helmet had protected him, however and he was on his way to a field hospital where all the lads here would soon be going. I can see that I am no good here, just an impediment, because the doctor's irritated glance chases me out.
It is only now that I notice that there are some killed men on the snow next to the dugout, who have not yet been evacuated. To my horror I am told that one of them is the Command post runner, the young man whom we last night treated with a crepe. My throat is constricting and my eyes are smarting. I am so distracted that I return by crossing the bog without thinking of the risk. Not until in the dugout I realise that I should have taken the road. But the enemy had not yet started retaliating with their heavy weapons.
We opened our canteen early today. It is a lovely sunny morning and the enemy has opened up constant fire with four to six inch guns. The bog I crossed is now full of holes. Trhere are dirty and tired men waiting at the door. Their white camo suits have been fouled up during the night. Their faces and hands are black, eyes bloodshot and countenance tired.
I am thirsty but I do not have any money.
I let them come in and let them have a couple of cups of punch each for nothing.
Helenius dropped in recently and told that three lads of his dugout were killed last night and ten wounded. That is 2nd Lt Kitunen's lads whom I visited last night. I gave Helenius some Sitros that we just received. He has got six Vanyas to be taken to the rear, they have been taken prisoners last night. While Helenius visited the canteen a SMG gunner guarded the prisoners, although they did not intend to escape. They had a tired countenance, they were wearing felt boots and wadded jackets of dirty colour contrasting against the white snow. I would not be surprised if Helenius would share the desired Sitros with the prisoners. Sitros are small yellow fruit pastilles.
Our canteen has been busy all morning. Lads are coming in to get substitute coffee in their field kettles for the men returning from the line and a man who has participated in the battle comes in to have some punch. He is depressed and unwilling to talk, even though the hill has been taken the lads are suspecting that it cannot be held and loss of twenty dead and eighty wounded was too steep a price for such a manouver.
Enters a dapper fighter who has a pair of new brown boots, of very high quality, hanging on his belt. He has evacuated them in an enemy dugout. The boots have not been worn and the labels and the soles prove that it is American aid.
The news are so depressing that no one wants to make any jokes. Thirty men participated in the attack. The owner of the pair of American boots is the sole survivor of his squad. It is said that Ortamo was badly wounded but he skied himself to be bandaged and said he was fine, he also explained his men what to do before he left. The lads admire his steel nerves. They also tell about 2nd Lt Vesa who came here from a logging detail and asked to join the operation. Someone borrowed him a gun but it will never be returned because Vesa was killed last night.
Kitunen dropped in for some substitute coffee. He continued to the front line with his remaining lads because Vaarma has been wounded in his arm.
I have been working half-dazed although I should encourage the lads. I put some sugar on the coins although I should have put it in the cups. - The lads were amused, but they, too, are absent-minded, they pay with wrong sums or forget to take the change.
The colour of their camo overall tells who has been there last night. Their suits are torn and soiled by brownish yellow stains, they are wearing helmets and carrying backpacks, magazines on their belt. Their faces are greyish, their eyes blood-shot, their hands shaking. Yet they are manly and in good mood. How I admire all of them.
Engineers are having their meal here, they are opening tins. Their belts are heavy with gear and stick grenades are sticking out of their backpacks.
The enemy has opened heavy shelling. The lads become serious, they are fearing a counterstrike and another attack. The plane-devil that used to fly overhead after dark only is now insolent enough to arrive at daytime. The sunshine is wonderful but I cannot run even to our home dugout one hundred meters off because 6-inchers are smashing in the bog between Sorsanpesä and the command post.
We are heating water to make substitute coffee and wash the dishes in a big cauldron on the yard. Athough the steel rain has been heavy at noon and the enemy is making a counterstrike to retake the hill there is all the time someone drinking substitute coffee in the canteen. The lads are forbidding us to get outside but it seems that they feel safe in our canteen.
A shell just landed some twenty meters from the canteen. An engineer had been sitting and having his meal outside in the cover of a snow wall. He picked up a big shell splinter next to the door and gave it to me as a souvenir of this day in March. (I still have it!)
The aircraft may have been leading the enemy fire because all the AM shells are pouring in. Many of them in our vicinity. Unkka, the helper of the canteen who during this war has lost three of his brothers is posted from the front line to the canteen to spare the last of the four brothers. It is not far to the front line, Unkka stokes the cauldron, melts snow into water and carries in the boiling water. Shells are landing worryingly close but Unkka is able to estimate their risk. Shelling dies down at times.
17.50hrs. The hill has been lost. A man came and told that Lt Lehtonen of the neighbouring Company command post dugout is not killed after all. He is lying in a ditch in the enemy territory. The enemy has indeed retaken the hill . They had given such a barrage and brought up their tanks which we do not have here...The lads left in serious mood. One man of the 1st Coy turned back and said politely at the door: -Wishing you the best and be careful... The rest of his words were drowned by the crash of a shell landing nearby. He left but he had told me to stay put in the dugout.
In the evening in the home dugout as I, tired and depressed, am trying to cook some dinner with Hilkka's help we get visitors with cheering news. Lads believed to be killed have returned in the cover of darkness from “Mandshcuria”, the miserable hill. There was also Koski, Lehtonen's runner who told that as Cpl. Visala was so badly wounded that he was not able to return from “Mandschuria” to our side Lehtonen remained there to accompany him, telling lads to come with a sleigh at night to retrieve Visala. The lads have just set out for their dangerous mission in the cover of darkness. The enemy, too, are like a stirred wasps' nest. We shall see what is going to happen to them, can they retrieve Visala and Lehtonen alive and shall the rescuers survive? Yet it seems that the enemy, too, are tired and are not planning a retaliation attack...
It is quite late – about 2300hrs – Capt Välimaa and Lt. Lehtonen come for a visit. Lehtonen is tired but looking happy. Valimaa was in a brilliant mood due to Lehtonen's bravado and due to the fact that the rescue mission men returned from “Mandschuria” and brought home the wounded man. He is on his way to the field hospital.
Next morning Lehtonen, rumoured to be dead, is standing in front of us alive and well . We are making really good coffee substitute, stronger than we acually are allowed to, and crepes. Lehtonen did not feel like talking but we were happy because he had survived and he had not abandoned his wounded pal. They had had a hot day but the enemy did not spot the hole where they had been. The sunshine had been as intense as in summertime, Lehtonen was scorched red as if he had been in the sun on a beach in the middle of a summer.
Välimaa was so satisfied with this latest adventure of his Company that he seemed to have forgotten all the setbacks that our Battalion had suffered during the last 24 hours. He told nice stories and we could discuss with him about anything. Finally the evening was a pleasant one. When the soldiers had left I could but admit how little I was able to do for them. But they are not demanding much, they are grateful even for a friendly word.
The enemy aircraft appears to be tired of bombing. I am almost missing the buzzing although I hate it. The sky is wonderfullly starry. Weapons are quiet, just an occasional burst here or there breaks the silence. Everyone is asleep, the past day and night have been taxing their strenght. Men are tired on both sides of the front line.
(3634 words)
The text gives some views about the period of trench warfare. It seems that the actual JR5 war diary is not digitized.
AINO- MARJA RÄSÄNEN-LEMAITRE
Journal “Kansa Taisteli” vol. 02, 1959
03.33.hrs – extracts from my war diary
20.March.1943. Maaselkä isthmus, 4.D, JR5, I Battalion. Commander dugout “Sorsanpesä” (Duck's nest; the CO was Maj . Sorsa = duck, tr.rem.)
I have been in the front line just one month but during the last week I have sensed an odd unrest in our Battalion. Today I found out that something unusual is going on. I visited the Command Post with Miss Hilkka, a volunteer “Sotilaskoti” canteen operator. During our weekly sauna visit we had yesterday met the CO and agreed to pay a visit to him. The mood was initially stiff there, too, as in any place during our first visit. A woman is a rare guest over here, and now there were two of us. The dugout was more grand than any we had seen in these parts. There was a fire in the fireplace. We had to sit down in armchairs, carved out of huge tree trunks. Hilkka was playing chess with the Chaplain and I was chatting with the CO and the messenger officer.
-We have had a lot to do lately, said the CO, Maj. Sorsa.
It was touching to see how they cherished their dog. It was fed vitamins and cod liver oil.
There are no other females but this dog, they told us as we were wondering. A soldier was busy making coffee in the kitchen dugout. He was nick-named “Geisha”, I am not sure if he liked that. But he was busy.
We did not talk about anything special because the CO had to answer the phone all the time. I was now sure about “taking the hill” that the lads had been whispering about, allowing us on purpose overhear to show us how well versed they were in the military secrets of the command post. I did not know the codewords but those were often used during phone conversations so something important is really going on.
Coffee was served with lingonberries preserved in water.
We were escorted with the dog to our home dugout. It was slightly frosty, starry sky and an hint of spring in the air. As I asked when they would be coming to visit us in return, they smiled wistfully (believing that we did not know anything) and a little sadly the CO answered:
Next Thursday, maybe...You see, we should continue warfare before that...
The enemy, too, appears to have anticipated something. I hate the nightly flying intruding devil. Last night the lamp on our table shook as he dropped a bomb in the vicinity. We have not been able to get decent sleep for many a night as he keeps hovering overhead. At first we hear some indistinct irregular buzzing – as if he were running on a wood gas generator – he is twisting and turning about. Having pondered about it enough he drops a bomb. Some time later another, before leaving to reload. Last night AA guns were firing at him. Red balls were racing up to the sky. The aeroplane dropped a parachute light. It was glowing and illuminating the snow mercilessly. At the same time our propaganda-automobile was preaching to the neighbours and playing polka tunes to them.
Boys in the Sotilaskoti canteen are serious though trying to cover it up with gallows humour. About one hundred men are going to join the attack to take the hill. It is said that a nasty twist of the front line must be eliminated, a salient that the enemy is using to create havoc.
I feel like crying when looking at the lads. Some of them shall remain there, some others will be hospitalized.
The radio is playing “Mandschurian hills” and the lads are tapping with the soles of their boots. Two lads are engaging in a wrestling match, they are young and clumsy like bear cubs. It is my guess that they shall be participating in the attack, and they could not think of anything else to entertain their pals. Someone is joking that there are too many mouths to feed and the rank and file must be culled. Another one remembers that none of the officers have risen in rank lately, so the big brass need promotion and decorations. Our officers have not been seen in our canteen. Instead a lot of neighbouring battalions' officers. Big thing are going to happen. We are kept busy.
Today our canteen has been in a hurry. Skiers in white are drinking substitute coffee in endless quantities. They are not the men of our Battalion but from the Regimental Jaeger platoon, we are told. They shall participate in the show. Their shining white camo and countenance reveals it. We are sure that the attack shall be launched the next night. Actually tomorrow is scheduled as our “sugar day'” but I am switching saccharine to sugar as the lads have hinted that they may not need any sugar tomorrow. It is not much: half a cube of sugar for each cup of substitute coffee and some condensed milk. But it delights the lads enormously.
The atmosphere gets the more nervous the later it gets. Jokes are not cracking, neither is swearing fluent. I usually set a fine of one FIM for each profanity but today I make believe I am not hearing any.
I am anticipating the attack like I used to wait for the school dances. The lads are expecting a lot of fire because men from other units have been brought in and all kinds of ammunitions have been replenished. Many lads that I know visited the canteen. Although they did not say who will be joining the attack I could tell it by their looks. I promised to save “Sitros” for them because we were waiting for a shipment. I had just got from Savujärvi chidren's fairy tale books that probably were intended as gifts to children at home. One 2nd Lieutenant bought one and put it in his backpack as his mascot. Some other men did likewise and again the spirits were a little encouraged. We were polite to each other and in every manner behaving as if we were in for a long separation.
I visited 2nd Lt. Kitunen's dugout. Someone was playing his mandolin. Others are talking funny small talk even though most of them have the mission ahead of rthem. There is no nervousness in Sassi either. A phone message from Orion was received. A horse was sent to the front but they did not take me along. After a while the man returned, whistling and in full canter we learned that the man was sol lightly wounded that he returned back to the front line.
In our home dugout we are having our meal. The pea soup is not quite successful. It has been cooked too hastily, Hilkka tells me. Junior 2nd Lt Andersson drops in , we offer our soup to him but he is just shaking his head. It is too strong food for a man with restless mind. But he accepts our crepes. Knock at the door, there is the command post runner, young and scrawny Matti. He, too, gets a crepe right from the pan, sizzling hot and fragrant.
All the evening lads are dropping in to say a few words, but no one is staying any longer time. Everyone is plagued by restlessness. The Company CO from the neighbouring dugout, Capt. Välimaa tells us that there is going to be a bit shooting next night (as if we would hear about it now for the first time). There is no reason to get scared. Should there be a breakthrough, they shall take care of us, we shall have a way to the direction of the Division. It is best for us to stay in the dugout and not peek out. Then he left, an ex high jump champion, with his long legs
24 March 1943 03.38hrs
Five minutes ago the battle started and our men are attacking. Actually they are not yet attacking because every artillery piece is still in action and securing. But they are ready in their positions. I woke up from my slumber as the artillery barrage started.
At first it was just one mass of noise, as if several thunderstorms were colliding, what a tremendous symphony of war. Now I can tell the thuds of heavy artillery, the cracks of AT guns and the “klucks” of mortars. They are like instruments of an orchestra. This time the entire Maaselkä isthmus isn playing. Every piece withing range is firing. Though terrible it is also handsome, effective, even beautiful. There is a pause of a few seconds until another volley is fired.
I get dressed and peek out of the dugout. What a wonderful moonshine! Artillery muzzle flames are flashing in several directions and whining projectiles are flying overhead. Machine gun noise is heard out of doors only as its constant patter merges in the orchestra. So far I have not detected any counterfire. It is just that I am fearing, because in my mind I am following the progress of the sissis and the infantry. (Afterwards Capt. Välimaa told me that as the lads started skiing to attack the snow has hissed like sea). All I can do is to cross my hands and think of those who are out there. I am not sure who is there but as far as the lads told me officers Ollikainen, Lehtonen, Vaarma, Vuori and Orkamo with their man are to attack. Three of the last named visited the canteen last night. Only Orkamo was as calm and considerate as he always used to be. He is not
talking much but he is friendly and polite. The lads say that he is a real man althouh very young. As to the others I have met them once only-...
04.10hrs
The chorus of noise has ended. Only an AT gun is firing in the direction of our window. Heavy guns seems to be active in the direction of Hilkka's bed and some weapon is banging at the door. We are estimating the battle relating to our dugout. The battle was to start at 3.33hours and it is not a secret anymore. Neither is the battle the course of which is unknown to us, we have just heard the sounds in our dugout .
At dawn horses assigned to the first aid post are passing us. Wounded men! I was told by our neighbours that the hill was ours. The lads, however, did not seem happy. They say that there were lots of wounded and some killed, too. But it is not known who.
I lit up our stove and started making coffee substitute. Every now and then I am getting out to look at the sleds passing by. I can see that the drivers are very tired. All lhe morning they have been driving back and forth between the scene of action and the first aid post despite firing. I hop on the runners of a sled transporting a man with brown hair, called Repo. He is hailing from Kurkijoki, from my home parish. He is badly wounded but conscious. At times Repo is moaning because the road is bumpy. Too many horses have been driving there during the last hours. All I can do is to encourage the man because we are already near the firs aid post.
The firsrt aid post is surrounded by stretchers, bloody pieces of clothing, helmets...I slip in the tent where the doctor (Boris Balin if I remember correctly) and his boys are working quiently and deftly. They were bandaging, splinting, wrapping wounds. One paramedic was busy with a syringe and a Sergeant was keeping records.
Here I was told that Ortamo had been wounded in his head by a shell that had hit four more men. His helmet had protected him, however and he was on his way to a field hospital where all the lads here would soon be going. I can see that I am no good here, just an impediment, because the doctor's irritated glance chases me out.
It is only now that I notice that there are some killed men on the snow next to the dugout, who have not yet been evacuated. To my horror I am told that one of them is the Command post runner, the young man whom we last night treated with a crepe. My throat is constricting and my eyes are smarting. I am so distracted that I return by crossing the bog without thinking of the risk. Not until in the dugout I realise that I should have taken the road. But the enemy had not yet started retaliating with their heavy weapons.
We opened our canteen early today. It is a lovely sunny morning and the enemy has opened up constant fire with four to six inch guns. The bog I crossed is now full of holes. Trhere are dirty and tired men waiting at the door. Their white camo suits have been fouled up during the night. Their faces and hands are black, eyes bloodshot and countenance tired.
I am thirsty but I do not have any money.
I let them come in and let them have a couple of cups of punch each for nothing.
Helenius dropped in recently and told that three lads of his dugout were killed last night and ten wounded. That is 2nd Lt Kitunen's lads whom I visited last night. I gave Helenius some Sitros that we just received. He has got six Vanyas to be taken to the rear, they have been taken prisoners last night. While Helenius visited the canteen a SMG gunner guarded the prisoners, although they did not intend to escape. They had a tired countenance, they were wearing felt boots and wadded jackets of dirty colour contrasting against the white snow. I would not be surprised if Helenius would share the desired Sitros with the prisoners. Sitros are small yellow fruit pastilles.
Our canteen has been busy all morning. Lads are coming in to get substitute coffee in their field kettles for the men returning from the line and a man who has participated in the battle comes in to have some punch. He is depressed and unwilling to talk, even though the hill has been taken the lads are suspecting that it cannot be held and loss of twenty dead and eighty wounded was too steep a price for such a manouver.
Enters a dapper fighter who has a pair of new brown boots, of very high quality, hanging on his belt. He has evacuated them in an enemy dugout. The boots have not been worn and the labels and the soles prove that it is American aid.
The news are so depressing that no one wants to make any jokes. Thirty men participated in the attack. The owner of the pair of American boots is the sole survivor of his squad. It is said that Ortamo was badly wounded but he skied himself to be bandaged and said he was fine, he also explained his men what to do before he left. The lads admire his steel nerves. They also tell about 2nd Lt Vesa who came here from a logging detail and asked to join the operation. Someone borrowed him a gun but it will never be returned because Vesa was killed last night.
Kitunen dropped in for some substitute coffee. He continued to the front line with his remaining lads because Vaarma has been wounded in his arm.
I have been working half-dazed although I should encourage the lads. I put some sugar on the coins although I should have put it in the cups. - The lads were amused, but they, too, are absent-minded, they pay with wrong sums or forget to take the change.
The colour of their camo overall tells who has been there last night. Their suits are torn and soiled by brownish yellow stains, they are wearing helmets and carrying backpacks, magazines on their belt. Their faces are greyish, their eyes blood-shot, their hands shaking. Yet they are manly and in good mood. How I admire all of them.
Engineers are having their meal here, they are opening tins. Their belts are heavy with gear and stick grenades are sticking out of their backpacks.
The enemy has opened heavy shelling. The lads become serious, they are fearing a counterstrike and another attack. The plane-devil that used to fly overhead after dark only is now insolent enough to arrive at daytime. The sunshine is wonderful but I cannot run even to our home dugout one hundred meters off because 6-inchers are smashing in the bog between Sorsanpesä and the command post.
We are heating water to make substitute coffee and wash the dishes in a big cauldron on the yard. Athough the steel rain has been heavy at noon and the enemy is making a counterstrike to retake the hill there is all the time someone drinking substitute coffee in the canteen. The lads are forbidding us to get outside but it seems that they feel safe in our canteen.
A shell just landed some twenty meters from the canteen. An engineer had been sitting and having his meal outside in the cover of a snow wall. He picked up a big shell splinter next to the door and gave it to me as a souvenir of this day in March. (I still have it!)
The aircraft may have been leading the enemy fire because all the AM shells are pouring in. Many of them in our vicinity. Unkka, the helper of the canteen who during this war has lost three of his brothers is posted from the front line to the canteen to spare the last of the four brothers. It is not far to the front line, Unkka stokes the cauldron, melts snow into water and carries in the boiling water. Shells are landing worryingly close but Unkka is able to estimate their risk. Shelling dies down at times.
17.50hrs. The hill has been lost. A man came and told that Lt Lehtonen of the neighbouring Company command post dugout is not killed after all. He is lying in a ditch in the enemy territory. The enemy has indeed retaken the hill . They had given such a barrage and brought up their tanks which we do not have here...The lads left in serious mood. One man of the 1st Coy turned back and said politely at the door: -Wishing you the best and be careful... The rest of his words were drowned by the crash of a shell landing nearby. He left but he had told me to stay put in the dugout.
In the evening in the home dugout as I, tired and depressed, am trying to cook some dinner with Hilkka's help we get visitors with cheering news. Lads believed to be killed have returned in the cover of darkness from “Mandshcuria”, the miserable hill. There was also Koski, Lehtonen's runner who told that as Cpl. Visala was so badly wounded that he was not able to return from “Mandschuria” to our side Lehtonen remained there to accompany him, telling lads to come with a sleigh at night to retrieve Visala. The lads have just set out for their dangerous mission in the cover of darkness. The enemy, too, are like a stirred wasps' nest. We shall see what is going to happen to them, can they retrieve Visala and Lehtonen alive and shall the rescuers survive? Yet it seems that the enemy, too, are tired and are not planning a retaliation attack...
It is quite late – about 2300hrs – Capt Välimaa and Lt. Lehtonen come for a visit. Lehtonen is tired but looking happy. Valimaa was in a brilliant mood due to Lehtonen's bravado and due to the fact that the rescue mission men returned from “Mandschuria” and brought home the wounded man. He is on his way to the field hospital.
Next morning Lehtonen, rumoured to be dead, is standing in front of us alive and well . We are making really good coffee substitute, stronger than we acually are allowed to, and crepes. Lehtonen did not feel like talking but we were happy because he had survived and he had not abandoned his wounded pal. They had had a hot day but the enemy did not spot the hole where they had been. The sunshine had been as intense as in summertime, Lehtonen was scorched red as if he had been in the sun on a beach in the middle of a summer.
Välimaa was so satisfied with this latest adventure of his Company that he seemed to have forgotten all the setbacks that our Battalion had suffered during the last 24 hours. He told nice stories and we could discuss with him about anything. Finally the evening was a pleasant one. When the soldiers had left I could but admit how little I was able to do for them. But they are not demanding much, they are grateful even for a friendly word.
The enemy aircraft appears to be tired of bombing. I am almost missing the buzzing although I hate it. The sky is wonderfullly starry. Weapons are quiet, just an occasional burst here or there breaks the silence. Everyone is asleep, the past day and night have been taxing their strenght. Men are tired on both sides of the front line.
(3634 words)
Re: Personal Finnish War Stories
A. E. Tuunainen
Fort Järisevä under steel rain
Journal “Kansa Taisteli”, vol. 6/7 1959
Fort Järisevä was situated on the coast of Lake Ladoga N of the mouth of Taipaleenjoki river comprised two Japanese-made Armstrong cannons. One of them is on display in the Coastal artillery museum in Suomenlinna.
As soon as the Winter War had started the first appeared over Järisevä, bombing the buildings, the battery and the troops. We had started digging in during the E.R. And we moved underground in the dugouts after the first bombing raids.
On Independence day (5 Dec 1939) the enemy troops reached Taipaleenjoki river and crossed it at the evening dusk after heavy fighting. Now Järisevä, too, was subjected to shelling as our battery had participated in repelling the enemy at Taipaleenjoki.
It was a dark and stormy night of the same day as our infantry alerted that enemy ships had been sighted on Taipaleenlahti and they probably were landing troops. It was the first actual alert for Järisevä battery and its covering troops, and it gave rise to mix-ups and blundering. At that date I was the leader of the MG detachment and the Battery CO told me to climb in the fire observation turret and find out about it. Enemy artillery was firing at Järisevä at a slow rate but no shells were landing just at the battery. I climbed up the turret in the dark, fearing a little, and soon found out that there were no enemy ships over there. The various light signals and artillery muzzle flames had probably been the cause for the alert.
The front stopped at Taipaleenjoki and stayed there for the entire war. Hard battles were fought and heavy bombardment was experienced almost daily in Järisevä, too, increasing in intensity all the time. The enemy used to bombard in daytime. The heaviest shelling or barrages could last two to three days followed by a break for replenishment and probing. Järisevä battery was still alive and preventing the enemy from advancing. The enemy brought up more artillery and shelled Järisevä ever more.
The enemy was attacking in Mustajoki, Kirvesmäki, Terenttilä etc., and our field artillery was shelling the attackers. The enemy was not every time able to locate the field artillery batteries, and Järisevä had to take the blame and the shelling. The same happened if the heavy Kaarnajoki fixed battery fired making use of their 18km range, the enemy was not able to locate them during the entire Winter War.
Järisevä was put to the toughest test at the end of February 1940 as the enemy launched their offensive on the Isthmus.
On 19 February morning an enemy outfit comprising some 800 men tried to cross Taipaleenlahti bay (on ice,tr.rem.) supported by tanks.
Our sentries alerted at dawn. We manned our positions, the battery, too, although neither of its two guns were in working order. I and my rifle platoon were placed NE of the battery in case the motor sleds lurking 5 to 7kms off would try to land troops at our flank. Everything was silent. But just as I had ordered my platoon to man the positons we had beforehand prepared among the packed ice we were subjected to a most vicious barrage. The very first shells hit the packed ice and one of them the ice about one meter behind me. I had tried to duck but I am not able to recollect the following minutes. Everything happened so fast: Explosion, flames, smoke, explosion gas. The blast threw me and my runner in the snow but as if by miracle we were just scared. One of my LMG gunners fared worse, his feet were cut off. Despite heavy shelling the paramedics took him away from the field.
The enemy kept approaching our positions. Then our weapons retaliated. The enemy on the ice stopped and some of them ran having dropped their equipment and weapons. Tanks tried to rally and cover their troops and continue the attack, but one of the Järisevä guns had been fixed enough. It could be fired a few times by hitting the striker with a hammer. Those shells had a decisive effect. The loud rumbles and a square hit at one tank, setting it in flames, confused the enemy troops – and made them withdraw.
So the battle on the ice off Järisevä ended victorious for us. At dusk I set out with my platoon to check the battlefield. We found that the enemy had lost 200 men killed, our casualties included some wounded. We collected war booty, among them lots of autoloading rifles, SMGs, skis – even some vodka.
Fort Järisevä area comprised about two sq. km and during the Winter War it took according to our estimate about 100 000 (one hundred thousand) shells of various calibers- from 8” to 45mm.
What was their effect? Number of casualties was small compared with the bombardment because inaccuracy (specially in the beginning of the war), thick snow and good dugouts and trenches diminished the splinter effect. Material damage was greater because most of the buildings, ammo cellars and forest were destroyed. The guns of the battery were hit several times but one of them, with a split barrel, was able to fire the shells on 19. February 1940 that earned the gun a place in the War museum.
Many of us who served in Järisevä and survived by grace of G-d, had to make the supreme sacrifice for the fatherland during the Continuation war.
(914 words)
Fort Järisevä under steel rain
Journal “Kansa Taisteli”, vol. 6/7 1959
Fort Järisevä was situated on the coast of Lake Ladoga N of the mouth of Taipaleenjoki river comprised two Japanese-made Armstrong cannons. One of them is on display in the Coastal artillery museum in Suomenlinna.
As soon as the Winter War had started the first appeared over Järisevä, bombing the buildings, the battery and the troops. We had started digging in during the E.R. And we moved underground in the dugouts after the first bombing raids.
On Independence day (5 Dec 1939) the enemy troops reached Taipaleenjoki river and crossed it at the evening dusk after heavy fighting. Now Järisevä, too, was subjected to shelling as our battery had participated in repelling the enemy at Taipaleenjoki.
It was a dark and stormy night of the same day as our infantry alerted that enemy ships had been sighted on Taipaleenlahti and they probably were landing troops. It was the first actual alert for Järisevä battery and its covering troops, and it gave rise to mix-ups and blundering. At that date I was the leader of the MG detachment and the Battery CO told me to climb in the fire observation turret and find out about it. Enemy artillery was firing at Järisevä at a slow rate but no shells were landing just at the battery. I climbed up the turret in the dark, fearing a little, and soon found out that there were no enemy ships over there. The various light signals and artillery muzzle flames had probably been the cause for the alert.
The front stopped at Taipaleenjoki and stayed there for the entire war. Hard battles were fought and heavy bombardment was experienced almost daily in Järisevä, too, increasing in intensity all the time. The enemy used to bombard in daytime. The heaviest shelling or barrages could last two to three days followed by a break for replenishment and probing. Järisevä battery was still alive and preventing the enemy from advancing. The enemy brought up more artillery and shelled Järisevä ever more.
The enemy was attacking in Mustajoki, Kirvesmäki, Terenttilä etc., and our field artillery was shelling the attackers. The enemy was not every time able to locate the field artillery batteries, and Järisevä had to take the blame and the shelling. The same happened if the heavy Kaarnajoki fixed battery fired making use of their 18km range, the enemy was not able to locate them during the entire Winter War.
Järisevä was put to the toughest test at the end of February 1940 as the enemy launched their offensive on the Isthmus.
On 19 February morning an enemy outfit comprising some 800 men tried to cross Taipaleenlahti bay (on ice,tr.rem.) supported by tanks.
Our sentries alerted at dawn. We manned our positions, the battery, too, although neither of its two guns were in working order. I and my rifle platoon were placed NE of the battery in case the motor sleds lurking 5 to 7kms off would try to land troops at our flank. Everything was silent. But just as I had ordered my platoon to man the positons we had beforehand prepared among the packed ice we were subjected to a most vicious barrage. The very first shells hit the packed ice and one of them the ice about one meter behind me. I had tried to duck but I am not able to recollect the following minutes. Everything happened so fast: Explosion, flames, smoke, explosion gas. The blast threw me and my runner in the snow but as if by miracle we were just scared. One of my LMG gunners fared worse, his feet were cut off. Despite heavy shelling the paramedics took him away from the field.
The enemy kept approaching our positions. Then our weapons retaliated. The enemy on the ice stopped and some of them ran having dropped their equipment and weapons. Tanks tried to rally and cover their troops and continue the attack, but one of the Järisevä guns had been fixed enough. It could be fired a few times by hitting the striker with a hammer. Those shells had a decisive effect. The loud rumbles and a square hit at one tank, setting it in flames, confused the enemy troops – and made them withdraw.
So the battle on the ice off Järisevä ended victorious for us. At dusk I set out with my platoon to check the battlefield. We found that the enemy had lost 200 men killed, our casualties included some wounded. We collected war booty, among them lots of autoloading rifles, SMGs, skis – even some vodka.
Fort Järisevä area comprised about two sq. km and during the Winter War it took according to our estimate about 100 000 (one hundred thousand) shells of various calibers- from 8” to 45mm.
What was their effect? Number of casualties was small compared with the bombardment because inaccuracy (specially in the beginning of the war), thick snow and good dugouts and trenches diminished the splinter effect. Material damage was greater because most of the buildings, ammo cellars and forest were destroyed. The guns of the battery were hit several times but one of them, with a split barrel, was able to fire the shells on 19. February 1940 that earned the gun a place in the War museum.
Many of us who served in Järisevä and survived by grace of G-d, had to make the supreme sacrifice for the fatherland during the Continuation war.
(914 words)
Re: Personal Finnish War Stories
During the Continuation War, there were two russian pows placed to my grandparents farm. Those days help was needed with cattle, cultivation and forest work, because my grandfather served in the front. There were only four children, my grandmother and her old father in the farm so it’s obvious they were not able to settle everything just by themselves.
Many neighbours had the same situation and there were around ten pows on farms nearby.
They lived in a sauna cabin near the main house. (photo) Their names and some other texts are still visible written on the walls inside the cabin.
The prisoners were kind men and got along with the family and especially with the kids very well. Pows were not allowed to meet other prisoners from the village or gather in bigger groups, but since people started to know them better, they didn’t care about it. My aunt told that many times they gave her money and she had to “run to buy beer for them and then there were a bunch of prisoners having fun in our sauna cabin.” And afterwards they said “Finland beer, poor beer, only makes you pee.”
Just wondering where they got their money from. Did my granny pay them?
My uncle, who was the oldest child, around 12-14 years by then, learned many russian words from the prisoners and used those words regularly all his age. I know few russian words myself, which I have learned from my uncle when I was a little boy. Like “It’s klohodna outside”. I thought those words were a part of our dialect that we have here as well as we use swedish words in spoken language.
My mother was under five years old by then and was treated like a pet by the prisoners. When the war ended and the pow’s were leaving, they hugged my mom tightly and promised to come back some day to see her again.
Well they did not, but I guess there were some force majeure reasons why not.
Sometimes I have wondered, could those men be tracked and did they survive or not.
When talking about the prisoners of war, the first vision is a skinny hungry man behind the camp’s barbwires. But for everyone, it has not been so bad to be a pow, thought.
Many neighbours had the same situation and there were around ten pows on farms nearby.
They lived in a sauna cabin near the main house. (photo) Their names and some other texts are still visible written on the walls inside the cabin.
The prisoners were kind men and got along with the family and especially with the kids very well. Pows were not allowed to meet other prisoners from the village or gather in bigger groups, but since people started to know them better, they didn’t care about it. My aunt told that many times they gave her money and she had to “run to buy beer for them and then there were a bunch of prisoners having fun in our sauna cabin.” And afterwards they said “Finland beer, poor beer, only makes you pee.”
Just wondering where they got their money from. Did my granny pay them?
My uncle, who was the oldest child, around 12-14 years by then, learned many russian words from the prisoners and used those words regularly all his age. I know few russian words myself, which I have learned from my uncle when I was a little boy. Like “It’s klohodna outside”. I thought those words were a part of our dialect that we have here as well as we use swedish words in spoken language.
My mother was under five years old by then and was treated like a pet by the prisoners. When the war ended and the pow’s were leaving, they hugged my mom tightly and promised to come back some day to see her again.
Well they did not, but I guess there were some force majeure reasons why not.
Sometimes I have wondered, could those men be tracked and did they survive or not.
When talking about the prisoners of war, the first vision is a skinny hungry man behind the camp’s barbwires. But for everyone, it has not been so bad to be a pow, thought.
Re: Personal Finnish War Stories
Hello, PanuP!
Very interesting story!
If you could be so kind to make a picture of records on the sauna wall I would try to find out something about those russian PAWs (if they leave their family names, of course).
BR, Farmer
Very interesting story!
If you could be so kind to make a picture of records on the sauna wall I would try to find out something about those russian PAWs (if they leave their family names, of course).
BR, Farmer
Re: Personal Finnish War Stories
Hello,farmer wrote:Hello, PanuP!
Very interesting story!
If you could be so kind to make a picture of records on the sauna wall I would try to find out something about those russian PAWs (if they leave their family names, of course).
BR, Farmer
that would be great! But unfortunately I have only one photo and it's not the best possible. Maybe next time I visit there some day next week or week after that.
With good light and time to study, I believe the texts could be figured out.
But I guess it would be easier to find the names by trying the archives. I'll do my best, thanks.
Re: Personal Finnish War Stories
Thanks for the picture!
Unfortunately it is not russian language. I may recognize dates only and finnish words "venäläisen" and "osa". That's all.....
So it would be great if you may find some more info or make additional pictures.
BR, Farmer
Unfortunately it is not russian language. I may recognize dates only and finnish words "venäläisen" and "osa". That's all.....
So it would be great if you may find some more info or make additional pictures.
BR, Farmer
Re: Personal Finnish War Stories, JP3
Battle at Turkistarhanniemi on 8 Jan 1942
Journal “KansaTaisteli” vol 05, 1962 pp. 145 – 148, incl. Maps and photographs
2nd Lt. Jouko Juhani Oksa wrote this account in his dugout right after the battle and when on furlough handed the text over to his father. The father, Mr. Vilho Oksa, sent this text to the competition in the journal Kansa Taisteli in 1958. This won the 2nd price.
2nd Lt. Oksa was born in Kouvola on 30 March 1922 and he was killed in action in Ranua 2.October 1944 (fighting against Germans in Lapland war, tr.rem)
2./JP 3 was our outfit. After the battles of Karhumäki and Poventsa the stronghold manned by our Platoon was situated in Turkistarhanniemi or Fox Farm Promontory (Kumsanniemi, 62°51'58,13"N, 34°36'37,32"E ) at Lake Onega. (Ref. Map in the original) .
Our task was to guard three kilometers of shoreline and the open ice beyond, plus liaison with the neighbouring strongholds had kept us so busy that we had not had time to dig in,
even our dugout was unfinished. Only the absolutely necessary protective works have been built. Now it is January 7, 1942 and sunset.
Darkness of winter night is about to shroud our stronghold in complete darkness, only the snow cover of the open ice is a little lighter grey. In the background, about four km off are situated the Sosnovets islands, held by the enemy, visible as dark lumps at the horizon of our field of vision. Probably at least one Regiment of the enemy 313.D. troops are stationed there.
Up to the small hours it is calm. The sentries posted at the tip of the sand bank extending from the promontory have neither seen nor heard anything unusual, and the liaison ski patrols to our neighbouring strongholds have been left alone. The off-duty men are tired and sleeping in the unfinished dugout. The close range sentry at the tip of the promontory is waiting to be relieved. He is cold and longing to get in the warm dugout.
It is 04.41hrs as the sentry sees a green flare fired up at the tip of the sand bank, followed by a red one. The man is dumbstruck for a second, then he runs to the dugout and yells at the door:
Enemy approaching from the islands!
This is enough to wake up a man from the very deepest sleep. In a couple of minutes the defenders find themselves in their positions.
The CO of the stronghold, a young 2nd Lt, is peering intensely at the open ice. He does spot farther off a long black column that is marching at the promontory in closed order. He is slightly worried, recognising that he has but little resources at hand. There are only one Jaeger platoon, thinned in battles, supported by three short barreled 3” direct fire cannons, one of which is too far at the end of the bay securing it. Fortunately the Platoon includes two LMGs. The Lieut inspects his line. Every man find themselves in their defined spots , the LMGs on the flanks and the MG in the center at the tip of the promontory.
They keep waiting. The enemy keeps marching in a dense column but out of range for every other weapon but the field guns, which open up at the order of their Battery Officer. The enemy column is mowed down at each spot hit by a shell but obstinately the column keeps trudging through the thick snow. Like a snake it is slithering closer.
Once more the Lieut checks the defence line. He feels reassured as he sees a LMG gunner support the buttstock of his weapon against his shoulder, waiting for the moment he is allowed to squeeze the trigger.
We shall be fine, let us just do it in the old fashion, the officer keeps telling his lads.
In his mind he repeats the facts: Report to the Coy CO – done, order to the machine gunners at the bottom of the bay to bring their weapon to the promontory – done, and there is nothing else to be done.
Finally the enemies are within range and the MG and both LMGs start simultaneously rattling out angry bursts. The enemy fans out hurriedly, one detachment is advancing in the cover of the sand bank toward the tip of the promontory, while some of the attackers are grouped against the left flank of the promontory. The MG, LMGs and rifles are firing constantly and at times the rapid bursts of SMGs can be heard among the din. The field guns keep firing although the enemy is now almost too close.
Farther on the ice, behind the attackers, the wild, shrill yelling of a politruk is heard, and again attackers are rising from the snow. They dash on about ten meters, then dig in the snow and start shooting. The battery officer keeps giving orders, shells keep hitting the ice and the splinters are flying far with a whine. Moaning is heard from the ice, many an attacker has taken a splinter or a bullet in his skin.
The Lieut is standing on the beach bank near the MG. His autoloader keeps banging at brief intervals – he replaces the mag and his weapon again is spitting fire. Suddenly he notes that the enemy on the left is menacingly close to the beachline – is the defender's thin line enough wide there?
He calls three of his SMG men and they run to the left flank. The LMG at the extreme point of the flank keeps chattering without pause but the ice even farther to the left is teeming with enemies. The Lieut and his three men keep running down the beachline ever farther. Finally they find a convenient knoll where to stop. The enemies are wading in the snow at a distance of 30 m in a blindside for the LMG, and certain of victory they are approaching the land. They have not been taking any fire from this spot and they are deducing that they are able to make a beachhead .
At the very moment they are facing the murderous fire of three SMGs and an autoloading rifle, the foremost men are dropping down. The rest duck in the snow and start using their rifles but the bursts of SMGs are pinning them down. The Lieut leaves the SMG gunners there but hurries himself to the tip of the promontory.
The enemies have made some progress. They are crawling throuhg the snow, leaving behind deep furrows. Farther on the ice there are two MG s that keep firing at our MG. The MG NCO, a dapper young Corporal, takes a bullet through his arm but he stays in his place. The MG keeps spitting out rapid bursts and the tracers are flying over the ice, raking the dark shapes lying close to each other on the ice. Soon one of the attacker MG s has had enough and falls silent but at the same moment out MG has a stoppage, too.
Now our stronghold is depending on the LMGs only, because the second MG from the bay is not yet here.
The Lieut is in a serious mood in this serious situation. On top of everything whining sounds are heard overhead, and shells are landing on the promontory. A rifleman next to the MG position gets a splinter in his thigh but he is able to crawl away. The Lieut is wondering at first at the source of the shells but having listened more intnsely he is able to hear popping sounds on the sand bank. At least three mortars must be there, he deduces.
The direct fire guns have stopped shooting and the gunners are fighting as riflemen. The battery officer is requesting fire from a heavy battery by telephone to the ice. The LMG at the tip of the promontory is still able to hold the enemy down, yet they keep obstinately¨
crawling closer.
Again the Lieut is at the MG the stoppage of which has still not been removed. The attackers have managed to get very close, there are dozens of them among the reeds of the beach that are protruding from the snow. Although the attackers provide excellent targets there are too many of them. Rifle and SMG fire cannot stop them, because new men keep emerging beyond the killed ones.
The young Lieut is feeling the weight of responsibility on his shoulders. Yet he is thinking: We shall not yield, we must be able to hold – if the enemy wants to take this promontory they have to do it over our dead bodies, no other way. The same decisiveness he is detecting in the faces of his men.
The machine gunners are tinkering with their weapon, then the receiver lid is closed, the belt is pulled in, loading procedure is completed and finally the weapon is again spitting out tracers at the ice in triumphant bursts. The familiar rattling is reassuring and tired, dirty faces are breaking in smiles.
What is that ? Another MG starts chattering on the left. Finally, the second MG from the bay is there. Its NCO, a calm lad from Häme, opines with a smile:
- We did make it in the nick of the time!
The enemy elan is dampened. They are lying in the snow, firing their guns hastily, as if in doubt about their chances. The mortars on the sand bank that have been constantly dropping their rounds on our promontory fall silent, too. Our pride, an armoured car, has arrived on the ice next to the sand bank and quicky suppressed the mortars with its gun and SMG. The information is passed on from man to man down the line and this puts courage in everyone.
The battle has been raging for three hours. The enemy keeps trying to charge disregarding their losses. Here and there a dark shape dashes for a few meters and immediately digs in. The defenders are short of ammunition, some of the men have but a few left. The Lieut advises the men to be frugal and to shoot only at dashing enemies. Everyone is desperately waiting for the dawn. If we are able to last until that, the victory is ours.
Sorely needed cartridges are finally available. The paramedic NCO is pulling with hunched shoulders a heavy sled full of cartridge boxes, and the runners are delivering them all over the line. The supply came in the very last moment because the Politruk is again yelling on the ice with a shrill tone.
The attackers are rising up to the final charge. They are dashing on while yelling “uraa”. Our MG s and LMG s are constantly firing long bursts, the rifles are cracking and the sound of LMGs overtones everything else. The hottest battle is fought at the MG nest where the nearest attackers are just thirty meters off. The MG muzzle flame is constant and the weapon is very hot. Hand grenades are thrown from both sides, the noise is deafening.
At the very moment the battery office abandons his field telephone and runs, shouting in a hoarse voice:
- Aalto is shooting ! Duck down, men!
We hear deep sounds of field guns far back in the rear. A few seconds of waiting, but firefight is not interrupted. Then the ground is shaken by tearing, ear deafening explosions. The first set of 6” shells have hit the ice among the attackers. Splinters are whining overhead and striking trees and rocks with crashing sounds. Our men who have some cover are spared, however. Soon another set of shells land, a third, a fourth.
A tremendous disarray is reigning on the ice. Cries of pain and moaning is heard. The shelling is over, and firing is getting again more intense. As the bleak January dawn breaks the Lieut can see however that the attackers are slowly retreating to East. The ones farthest back are getting up and start running for their islands. The survivors in the front also start crawling back, just some of the toughest ones stay there to stalk. A few minutels later it is dawn.
It is 08.00hrs. Now it is easy to see what the gutsy enemies are up to. The Lieut calls out:
- Platoon, advance on the ice in line!
He is running together with his deputy as the first men on the ice, and the platoon is following. A shot rings out from somewhere, a man feigning death has used his weapon. The price is high for us: the life of a brave soldier. The deputy pays the bushwhacker his deserved bounty with the butt of his rifle.
Another command:
- Everyone lying on the ice is checked and the ones faking death shall be dispatched with unless they surrender!
The escaping enemies are soon far away, but they are still intensely fired at. An enemy MG has been left behind on the ice. A dead enemy is lying next to it. The Lieut approaches the MG withot any anticipation of evil, as the lying enemy bounces up and grabs the MG. The Lieut is faster, however, his rifle cracks and the determined enemy drops dead next to his weapon.
The battle is over. Two battalions had attacked our positions at Turkistarhanniemi on 8.Jan. 1942 and they were repulsed. Two hundred seventy corpses are lying on the ice in front of our positions, most of them are young boys everyone carrying a Komsomol card in his pocket. Theri attack was unable to crush the few defenders of the promontory and they failed to capture the road, enticingly close behind the promontory.
The battle cost us defenders two men killed and two wounded. Honour to their memory!
( 2278 words)
The (digitized) 2nd Coy war diaries do not cover 7./8.*Jan 1942.
Here is the JP3 HQ diary of the same date for comparison:
(The diary is written on a school notebook with a bad hasty handwriting which is hard to interpret at places)
7.Jan 1942:
Abt.22.00hrs The JP3 CO was in tel.contact with Lt. Liukkonen. The CO ordered the close range securing (patrols) to be extended to 1,5km to the ice and keep patrolling all night. Special attention must be paid to the defence of the W tip of the promontory and the beachline.
8.Jan.1942:
02.30hrs JP3 CO in tel.contact witl Lt. Liukkonen who reported that Russkies were sneaking in his rear and he was just finding out about it.
03.10hrs Order was issued to the CO s of stronghold Lehti and the (?) stronghold in the promontory to send liaison patrols to Lt. Liukkonen and find out the origin of shooting that appears to emanate from a place between the promontory and pt32.9.
03.25hrs Alert order to the Sapper Coy and to the strike force made up of artillerymen. Order issued to the right wing of the Btn to man the positions because the patrols had spotted Russkies moving on the ice.
03.30hrs The armoured car was sent to Lt. Liukkonen to be used on the ice in front of the promontory. The armoured car was also ordered to contact Lt.Liukkonen.
03.45hs Lt. Liukkonen reported by phone that it had not yet been possible to estimate the strenght of the Russki on the ice .
04.00hrs Lt. Liukkonen's patrol had been in “Lehti” . Nothing special there, the ppatrol had again been sent to contact Lt. Liukkonen.
04.10hrs The patrol sent to rhe promontory pt 39.9, they had not found anything.
At the same time Lt.Liukkonen reported that there were about 30 Russkies.
05.10hrs Report from “Lehti” by 2nd Lt. Filimonoff that his patrol had seen about 1km N of the W tip of the promontory 39.9 one Coy (?). The observation was relayed to Lt. Liukkonen.
06.00hrs Report received from Pioneer Camp cape that a lot of Russkies are movin on the ice heading W to the direction of the Caray (?) promontory stronghold¨.
06.20hrs Report over Battalion phone that Russki is attacking with strong force the stronghold at the Caray (?) promontory. (Oksa's stronghold) (SIC! Note the hour and compare with Lt. Oksa's story)
The situation was reported to JPr and they informed that JP2 shall be alerted and coming there.
At the same time it was reporteds that Russki is penetrating in the bay between the afore mentioned and Pioneer camp. Sapper Coy is ordered to set up defence at the coastline of the said bay, where also two MG s shall be transferred.
and all available men from the Btn HQ shall be sent to the E side of the bay led by Staff Sgt. Vairanen and one AT gun from the town (transparent drawing)
06.45hrs the F.O.O. reported that about 3 Companies of Russki was advancing to the promontory¨ 39.2.
06.55hrs Situation report to J Pr HQ.
Constant strong shelling at the bay and in front of promontory¨ 39.9
07.20hrs Attempted radio contact to Lt.Liukkonen, but he did not respond. Telephone connections were already cut off.
07.40hrs Capt. Majava reported that the Russki has not been able to land although that had previously been reported. The Russki attack has been stopped about 150m from our positions.
08.15hrs Russki was seen to retreat in front of Oksa's stronghold, estimated as 100 men.
09.40hrs Stronghold Oksa was mopped out and 230 dead (enemies) were counted, one MG, four 50mm mortars, 3 LMG and 2 SMG were taken, also 14 prisoners.
Lt. Liukkonen had not contributed to the effort.
At the same time Maj.Häkkinen arrived at the Command psot of JP3 and he reported that JP2 is coming.
10.30hrs The Russki was seen moving continuously about on the ice and they were constantly shelled.
The Co of J Pr had also arrived art the JP3 command post and he tried to get a contact to the W side of the bay to request fire support. No contact was made and Maj.Paavola was ordered to establish contact with the said location and Lt. Liukkonen. Patrolling on the ice was carried out in daylight and it was found that smaller groups of Russkies were moving on the ice.
13.45hrs the patrol met in Promontory 32.9 but a few men and an AT gun that just arrived.
Col.Lt. Vilkuna issued an order to Maj. Häkkinen.
14.15hrs Col.Lt. Vilkuna set out to stronghold Oksa.
18.30hrs Häkkinen has advanced to pt.8600 and keeps advancing. All night patrolling between promontory 32.9 and the islands. Ther was a F.O.O. At the Russki supply road and soon an observation team. The road is to be mined. The patrols did not detect movement on the ice during the night.
20.20hrs Telegram (sic!) from Häkkinen:
“Reached Lehti at 19.10hrs. Contact with Ryyppö established. Send Liukkanen to Lehti.”
Otherwise the Btn. sector was calm.
(end of 8.2.1942)
(Suomen Sotahistoriallinen Seura Ry website provides this piece of information:
Soviet 313.D. Was to counterattack at Povenets in January 1942 but as the 1. Ski Brigade had failed at Suurniemi its 1068. and 1072. IR s were diverted to Sosnovets island . From there 1072.IR launched an attack at the Fox Farm Promontory. The place was defended by 2./JR3 supported by KevPsto11 and RsPsto 2. The Soviet attack was repulsed and the attackers suffered heavy casualties. Having advanced on the open ice of lake Onega it was next to impossible to withdraw.)
Journal “KansaTaisteli” vol 05, 1962 pp. 145 – 148, incl. Maps and photographs
2nd Lt. Jouko Juhani Oksa wrote this account in his dugout right after the battle and when on furlough handed the text over to his father. The father, Mr. Vilho Oksa, sent this text to the competition in the journal Kansa Taisteli in 1958. This won the 2nd price.
2nd Lt. Oksa was born in Kouvola on 30 March 1922 and he was killed in action in Ranua 2.October 1944 (fighting against Germans in Lapland war, tr.rem)
2./JP 3 was our outfit. After the battles of Karhumäki and Poventsa the stronghold manned by our Platoon was situated in Turkistarhanniemi or Fox Farm Promontory (Kumsanniemi, 62°51'58,13"N, 34°36'37,32"E ) at Lake Onega. (Ref. Map in the original) .
Our task was to guard three kilometers of shoreline and the open ice beyond, plus liaison with the neighbouring strongholds had kept us so busy that we had not had time to dig in,
even our dugout was unfinished. Only the absolutely necessary protective works have been built. Now it is January 7, 1942 and sunset.
Darkness of winter night is about to shroud our stronghold in complete darkness, only the snow cover of the open ice is a little lighter grey. In the background, about four km off are situated the Sosnovets islands, held by the enemy, visible as dark lumps at the horizon of our field of vision. Probably at least one Regiment of the enemy 313.D. troops are stationed there.
Up to the small hours it is calm. The sentries posted at the tip of the sand bank extending from the promontory have neither seen nor heard anything unusual, and the liaison ski patrols to our neighbouring strongholds have been left alone. The off-duty men are tired and sleeping in the unfinished dugout. The close range sentry at the tip of the promontory is waiting to be relieved. He is cold and longing to get in the warm dugout.
It is 04.41hrs as the sentry sees a green flare fired up at the tip of the sand bank, followed by a red one. The man is dumbstruck for a second, then he runs to the dugout and yells at the door:
Enemy approaching from the islands!
This is enough to wake up a man from the very deepest sleep. In a couple of minutes the defenders find themselves in their positions.
The CO of the stronghold, a young 2nd Lt, is peering intensely at the open ice. He does spot farther off a long black column that is marching at the promontory in closed order. He is slightly worried, recognising that he has but little resources at hand. There are only one Jaeger platoon, thinned in battles, supported by three short barreled 3” direct fire cannons, one of which is too far at the end of the bay securing it. Fortunately the Platoon includes two LMGs. The Lieut inspects his line. Every man find themselves in their defined spots , the LMGs on the flanks and the MG in the center at the tip of the promontory.
They keep waiting. The enemy keeps marching in a dense column but out of range for every other weapon but the field guns, which open up at the order of their Battery Officer. The enemy column is mowed down at each spot hit by a shell but obstinately the column keeps trudging through the thick snow. Like a snake it is slithering closer.
Once more the Lieut checks the defence line. He feels reassured as he sees a LMG gunner support the buttstock of his weapon against his shoulder, waiting for the moment he is allowed to squeeze the trigger.
We shall be fine, let us just do it in the old fashion, the officer keeps telling his lads.
In his mind he repeats the facts: Report to the Coy CO – done, order to the machine gunners at the bottom of the bay to bring their weapon to the promontory – done, and there is nothing else to be done.
Finally the enemies are within range and the MG and both LMGs start simultaneously rattling out angry bursts. The enemy fans out hurriedly, one detachment is advancing in the cover of the sand bank toward the tip of the promontory, while some of the attackers are grouped against the left flank of the promontory. The MG, LMGs and rifles are firing constantly and at times the rapid bursts of SMGs can be heard among the din. The field guns keep firing although the enemy is now almost too close.
Farther on the ice, behind the attackers, the wild, shrill yelling of a politruk is heard, and again attackers are rising from the snow. They dash on about ten meters, then dig in the snow and start shooting. The battery officer keeps giving orders, shells keep hitting the ice and the splinters are flying far with a whine. Moaning is heard from the ice, many an attacker has taken a splinter or a bullet in his skin.
The Lieut is standing on the beach bank near the MG. His autoloader keeps banging at brief intervals – he replaces the mag and his weapon again is spitting fire. Suddenly he notes that the enemy on the left is menacingly close to the beachline – is the defender's thin line enough wide there?
He calls three of his SMG men and they run to the left flank. The LMG at the extreme point of the flank keeps chattering without pause but the ice even farther to the left is teeming with enemies. The Lieut and his three men keep running down the beachline ever farther. Finally they find a convenient knoll where to stop. The enemies are wading in the snow at a distance of 30 m in a blindside for the LMG, and certain of victory they are approaching the land. They have not been taking any fire from this spot and they are deducing that they are able to make a beachhead .
At the very moment they are facing the murderous fire of three SMGs and an autoloading rifle, the foremost men are dropping down. The rest duck in the snow and start using their rifles but the bursts of SMGs are pinning them down. The Lieut leaves the SMG gunners there but hurries himself to the tip of the promontory.
The enemies have made some progress. They are crawling throuhg the snow, leaving behind deep furrows. Farther on the ice there are two MG s that keep firing at our MG. The MG NCO, a dapper young Corporal, takes a bullet through his arm but he stays in his place. The MG keeps spitting out rapid bursts and the tracers are flying over the ice, raking the dark shapes lying close to each other on the ice. Soon one of the attacker MG s has had enough and falls silent but at the same moment out MG has a stoppage, too.
Now our stronghold is depending on the LMGs only, because the second MG from the bay is not yet here.
The Lieut is in a serious mood in this serious situation. On top of everything whining sounds are heard overhead, and shells are landing on the promontory. A rifleman next to the MG position gets a splinter in his thigh but he is able to crawl away. The Lieut is wondering at first at the source of the shells but having listened more intnsely he is able to hear popping sounds on the sand bank. At least three mortars must be there, he deduces.
The direct fire guns have stopped shooting and the gunners are fighting as riflemen. The battery officer is requesting fire from a heavy battery by telephone to the ice. The LMG at the tip of the promontory is still able to hold the enemy down, yet they keep obstinately¨
crawling closer.
Again the Lieut is at the MG the stoppage of which has still not been removed. The attackers have managed to get very close, there are dozens of them among the reeds of the beach that are protruding from the snow. Although the attackers provide excellent targets there are too many of them. Rifle and SMG fire cannot stop them, because new men keep emerging beyond the killed ones.
The young Lieut is feeling the weight of responsibility on his shoulders. Yet he is thinking: We shall not yield, we must be able to hold – if the enemy wants to take this promontory they have to do it over our dead bodies, no other way. The same decisiveness he is detecting in the faces of his men.
The machine gunners are tinkering with their weapon, then the receiver lid is closed, the belt is pulled in, loading procedure is completed and finally the weapon is again spitting out tracers at the ice in triumphant bursts. The familiar rattling is reassuring and tired, dirty faces are breaking in smiles.
What is that ? Another MG starts chattering on the left. Finally, the second MG from the bay is there. Its NCO, a calm lad from Häme, opines with a smile:
- We did make it in the nick of the time!
The enemy elan is dampened. They are lying in the snow, firing their guns hastily, as if in doubt about their chances. The mortars on the sand bank that have been constantly dropping their rounds on our promontory fall silent, too. Our pride, an armoured car, has arrived on the ice next to the sand bank and quicky suppressed the mortars with its gun and SMG. The information is passed on from man to man down the line and this puts courage in everyone.
The battle has been raging for three hours. The enemy keeps trying to charge disregarding their losses. Here and there a dark shape dashes for a few meters and immediately digs in. The defenders are short of ammunition, some of the men have but a few left. The Lieut advises the men to be frugal and to shoot only at dashing enemies. Everyone is desperately waiting for the dawn. If we are able to last until that, the victory is ours.
Sorely needed cartridges are finally available. The paramedic NCO is pulling with hunched shoulders a heavy sled full of cartridge boxes, and the runners are delivering them all over the line. The supply came in the very last moment because the Politruk is again yelling on the ice with a shrill tone.
The attackers are rising up to the final charge. They are dashing on while yelling “uraa”. Our MG s and LMG s are constantly firing long bursts, the rifles are cracking and the sound of LMGs overtones everything else. The hottest battle is fought at the MG nest where the nearest attackers are just thirty meters off. The MG muzzle flame is constant and the weapon is very hot. Hand grenades are thrown from both sides, the noise is deafening.
At the very moment the battery office abandons his field telephone and runs, shouting in a hoarse voice:
- Aalto is shooting ! Duck down, men!
We hear deep sounds of field guns far back in the rear. A few seconds of waiting, but firefight is not interrupted. Then the ground is shaken by tearing, ear deafening explosions. The first set of 6” shells have hit the ice among the attackers. Splinters are whining overhead and striking trees and rocks with crashing sounds. Our men who have some cover are spared, however. Soon another set of shells land, a third, a fourth.
A tremendous disarray is reigning on the ice. Cries of pain and moaning is heard. The shelling is over, and firing is getting again more intense. As the bleak January dawn breaks the Lieut can see however that the attackers are slowly retreating to East. The ones farthest back are getting up and start running for their islands. The survivors in the front also start crawling back, just some of the toughest ones stay there to stalk. A few minutels later it is dawn.
It is 08.00hrs. Now it is easy to see what the gutsy enemies are up to. The Lieut calls out:
- Platoon, advance on the ice in line!
He is running together with his deputy as the first men on the ice, and the platoon is following. A shot rings out from somewhere, a man feigning death has used his weapon. The price is high for us: the life of a brave soldier. The deputy pays the bushwhacker his deserved bounty with the butt of his rifle.
Another command:
- Everyone lying on the ice is checked and the ones faking death shall be dispatched with unless they surrender!
The escaping enemies are soon far away, but they are still intensely fired at. An enemy MG has been left behind on the ice. A dead enemy is lying next to it. The Lieut approaches the MG withot any anticipation of evil, as the lying enemy bounces up and grabs the MG. The Lieut is faster, however, his rifle cracks and the determined enemy drops dead next to his weapon.
The battle is over. Two battalions had attacked our positions at Turkistarhanniemi on 8.Jan. 1942 and they were repulsed. Two hundred seventy corpses are lying on the ice in front of our positions, most of them are young boys everyone carrying a Komsomol card in his pocket. Theri attack was unable to crush the few defenders of the promontory and they failed to capture the road, enticingly close behind the promontory.
The battle cost us defenders two men killed and two wounded. Honour to their memory!
( 2278 words)
The (digitized) 2nd Coy war diaries do not cover 7./8.*Jan 1942.
Here is the JP3 HQ diary of the same date for comparison:
(The diary is written on a school notebook with a bad hasty handwriting which is hard to interpret at places)
7.Jan 1942:
Abt.22.00hrs The JP3 CO was in tel.contact with Lt. Liukkonen. The CO ordered the close range securing (patrols) to be extended to 1,5km to the ice and keep patrolling all night. Special attention must be paid to the defence of the W tip of the promontory and the beachline.
8.Jan.1942:
02.30hrs JP3 CO in tel.contact witl Lt. Liukkonen who reported that Russkies were sneaking in his rear and he was just finding out about it.
03.10hrs Order was issued to the CO s of stronghold Lehti and the (?) stronghold in the promontory to send liaison patrols to Lt. Liukkonen and find out the origin of shooting that appears to emanate from a place between the promontory and pt32.9.
03.25hrs Alert order to the Sapper Coy and to the strike force made up of artillerymen. Order issued to the right wing of the Btn to man the positions because the patrols had spotted Russkies moving on the ice.
03.30hrs The armoured car was sent to Lt. Liukkonen to be used on the ice in front of the promontory. The armoured car was also ordered to contact Lt.Liukkonen.
03.45hs Lt. Liukkonen reported by phone that it had not yet been possible to estimate the strenght of the Russki on the ice .
04.00hrs Lt. Liukkonen's patrol had been in “Lehti” . Nothing special there, the ppatrol had again been sent to contact Lt. Liukkonen.
04.10hrs The patrol sent to rhe promontory pt 39.9, they had not found anything.
At the same time Lt.Liukkonen reported that there were about 30 Russkies.
05.10hrs Report from “Lehti” by 2nd Lt. Filimonoff that his patrol had seen about 1km N of the W tip of the promontory 39.9 one Coy (?). The observation was relayed to Lt. Liukkonen.
06.00hrs Report received from Pioneer Camp cape that a lot of Russkies are movin on the ice heading W to the direction of the Caray (?) promontory stronghold¨.
06.20hrs Report over Battalion phone that Russki is attacking with strong force the stronghold at the Caray (?) promontory. (Oksa's stronghold) (SIC! Note the hour and compare with Lt. Oksa's story)
The situation was reported to JPr and they informed that JP2 shall be alerted and coming there.
At the same time it was reporteds that Russki is penetrating in the bay between the afore mentioned and Pioneer camp. Sapper Coy is ordered to set up defence at the coastline of the said bay, where also two MG s shall be transferred.
and all available men from the Btn HQ shall be sent to the E side of the bay led by Staff Sgt. Vairanen and one AT gun from the town (transparent drawing)
06.45hrs the F.O.O. reported that about 3 Companies of Russki was advancing to the promontory¨ 39.2.
06.55hrs Situation report to J Pr HQ.
Constant strong shelling at the bay and in front of promontory¨ 39.9
07.20hrs Attempted radio contact to Lt.Liukkonen, but he did not respond. Telephone connections were already cut off.
07.40hrs Capt. Majava reported that the Russki has not been able to land although that had previously been reported. The Russki attack has been stopped about 150m from our positions.
08.15hrs Russki was seen to retreat in front of Oksa's stronghold, estimated as 100 men.
09.40hrs Stronghold Oksa was mopped out and 230 dead (enemies) were counted, one MG, four 50mm mortars, 3 LMG and 2 SMG were taken, also 14 prisoners.
Lt. Liukkonen had not contributed to the effort.
At the same time Maj.Häkkinen arrived at the Command psot of JP3 and he reported that JP2 is coming.
10.30hrs The Russki was seen moving continuously about on the ice and they were constantly shelled.
The Co of J Pr had also arrived art the JP3 command post and he tried to get a contact to the W side of the bay to request fire support. No contact was made and Maj.Paavola was ordered to establish contact with the said location and Lt. Liukkonen. Patrolling on the ice was carried out in daylight and it was found that smaller groups of Russkies were moving on the ice.
13.45hrs the patrol met in Promontory 32.9 but a few men and an AT gun that just arrived.
Col.Lt. Vilkuna issued an order to Maj. Häkkinen.
14.15hrs Col.Lt. Vilkuna set out to stronghold Oksa.
18.30hrs Häkkinen has advanced to pt.8600 and keeps advancing. All night patrolling between promontory 32.9 and the islands. Ther was a F.O.O. At the Russki supply road and soon an observation team. The road is to be mined. The patrols did not detect movement on the ice during the night.
20.20hrs Telegram (sic!) from Häkkinen:
“Reached Lehti at 19.10hrs. Contact with Ryyppö established. Send Liukkanen to Lehti.”
Otherwise the Btn. sector was calm.
(end of 8.2.1942)
(Suomen Sotahistoriallinen Seura Ry website provides this piece of information:
Soviet 313.D. Was to counterattack at Povenets in January 1942 but as the 1. Ski Brigade had failed at Suurniemi its 1068. and 1072. IR s were diverted to Sosnovets island . From there 1072.IR launched an attack at the Fox Farm Promontory. The place was defended by 2./JR3 supported by KevPsto11 and RsPsto 2. The Soviet attack was repulsed and the attackers suffered heavy casualties. Having advanced on the open ice of lake Onega it was next to impossible to withdraw.)
Re: Personal Finnish War Stories
Heikki Seppälä
Fighting at Vuosalmi in March 1940
Journal “Kansa Taisteli” vol. 6/7, 1959
At 0400hrs on March 8, 1940 JR6 alias the Vallila regiment arrived from Taipale to Vuosalmi in Äyräpää where hard battles were going on round the clock. In the ranks of the outfit thrown here also Pvt. Markkula had to spend the last days of the war in a real devil's cauldron.
The final stretch of the journey to Mid-Isthmus, having climbed out of the tarps on lorry decks was no more than 10 km. But it was so demanding for the grey faced trench gnomes of Taipale to wade through snowbanks that they did not pay heed to the shells hitting the ice of Vuosalmi and spraying water on the men.
At the crack of dawn also Pvt. Markkula, a spectacled man with long beard, civilian job assistant editor, was fed wit some porridge. He also managed to beg a couple of dry fags from his Platoon leader, Cavalry 2ndLt. Von Bagh. As they were setting up their tent in a glen of the Äyräpää ridge Markkula imagined that he would find a warm place to sleep for a while. But soon splinters flew through the top of the tent, another set at the middle height and the third so low that Pvt. Niiva would never have returned to take his chair in front of a class had he not imitated a pancake. Soon there were bombs falling down from the air. Paramedics¨were pulling their sledges downhill to the river beach...
Having been lying half a day in a shooting line the platoon von Bagh had to man a fort by the Vuoksi river. The trench sides comprised two and three-man foxholes that were quite nice with fir bough padding and snow cover, compared with frozen ground. Again Markkula was unlucky: he did not find a spot where to stretch his legs. There he vegetated, half dazed, at times standing, at times on all fours in a foxhole where he was able to see the reflections of fires in the night. There was just a Machine gunner, stranger, shivering nearby. At times he got up and fired a few warming up shots at the black shapes that kept running from the shore to the island nearby – like ghosts in a nightmare.
At sunrise Markkula filled his field kettle with dirty snow and made a fire with strips or cardboard torn from a bread carton. It created enough smoke to attract the attention of enemy binocular men. Shells were soon hitting both sides of the trench.
2nd Lt von Bagh who was reading the novel “The house of horrors” by candlelight looked up from his foxhole and yelled:
- Put your blaze out, for Hell's sake, man, or I shall shoot!
Markkula however had managed to prepare his morning coffee and having slurped it down he began to stretch his stiff limbs. Soon he was ordered to stand sentry duty with Pvt. Eino Hosia, a writer. The way to the sentry post passed through a narrow tunnel dug through a railway embankment. Hosia, a large man, pushed himself in the tunnel, puffing and cursing. Markula, however, just walked across the rails
-Don't you, possessed one, know that they have a MG always aimed at this spot ?
-Hosia said as he emerged from the tunnel.
Markula did not have any idea, any more that Pvt Syrjänen who was lying curled at the embankment side, frozen stiff.
As he was going to do his next two hours of duty Markkula, too, used the safer route. But he began to fall asleep while standing up, and woke up as he fell on his face. It was until the following night that Markkula found a place to sleep in a foxhole. There he slept for five hours, more sweetly than a princess on her feather bed.
The day after that Markkula again had to swear because his spot in the foxholes had been occupied. Hosia, too, was annoyed and he snarled when they again were standing as sentries:
- You are a clumsy one for a soldier!. You do not even know how to get a place to stretch your back. Do you have any bread? Here, take this!
Markkula bit in the crispbread as if it were gingerbread. It was more than three days since the porridge had been eaten.
-Thanks a ton, Markkula mumbled, -but...let's move a little aside!
He went some 20 m to the rear and ducked. Hosia followed him unhesitatingly, because he had by now witnessed Markkula's clairvoyance. The very same moment a shell exploded in the spot where they had stood, puffing up a reddish brown cloud...
Well, the next night they were taken back to the ridge. In the morning they were given potato soup and tobacco. They also were cleaning up a horse dugout for their place of accommodation. But at sunset there was another alert. The platoon descended to the shore road and soon was waiting at the pump house of Pölläkkälä railway station.
Markkula slank in the pump house to warm up. In the porch there was a big wheel of cheese with a bayonet stuck in it. But it was just half-ripe! Wounded men were being bandaged in the house, the floor was covered with blood like in a slaughterhouse. Markkula fell asleep in a corner. But the paramedics soon examined him, too, and finding no holes in him chased the gate-crasher out at once.
It was almost dark by now. The platoon had disappeared from the road but there were a couple of shapes climbing up the steep side of the ridge at Pölläkkälä ski jump site. Someone uttered a few words in Russian at the top of the ridge and soon they started firing their weapons.
As Markkula kept strolling on the road he was spotted by an unfamiliar Sergeant whose right arm was bandaged while he held a pistol in his left hand.
Get up the hill now ! Another patrol has penetrated there!
Markkula began to trudge up the snow covered hillside. Before he was on the top he stopped for a break. At the same moment a bullet whistled past his ear, then another and a third. But they were fired from an unexpected quarter.
- Is it me that you are shooting at? Markkula grumbled as he spotted the shooter some twenty meters off.
You, I think...the man was shame-faced.
- I took you for a Vanya...
Pvt. Sinkko was next to the top of the precipe, and Räsänen the SMG gunner, Markkula between the two. Seven housew beyond Vuosalmi were burning as solemn torches. The flames were eerily reflected in the thickets of the ridge. The rattle of firing went down again, both sides were listening, because it was a blind man's buff actually. The enemy patrol appeared to have understood that they were about to be bagged and turned back, having had a look at the terrain.
Again Markkula felt terribly sleepy. The reallity was mixed with confused dreams. Half-dazed he went to Sinkko to get fire to his smoke in the cover of overcoat sleeve. Back in his foxhole he inhaled a few times in the cover of his hand and fell asleep on his knees...
Boom!
The explosion cloud of a hand grenade was billowing about one meter off Markkula's nose. Well, the snow was deep and maybe there was a rock because he did not get one single splinter in his skin.
But Sinkko was swearing quietly. Markkula hurried to him and found that he was wounded in one leg and in the back.
- Why the heck did you start playing with fire, Sinkko whispered, in civilian life a lorry operator.
- How am I ever going to make it down to the road through the snow? It does not make sense to call the stretcher bearers, the Vanyas are less than thirty meters from us judging by their throw.
- Take it easy, it is just flesh wounds since you are not grimacing more than that. Now settle down... Whoa!
Sinkko rolled down the slope like a snowball to the paramedics who were waiting with their sledge.
More shots were ringing out in the dark, and soon it was quiet again.
- There are some wounded over there, Räsänen whispered as soon as he had come to Markkula.
- Try to get them downhill. I am covering you although I do not have more than half a mag of ammo.
The recent trick could not be used any more. Markkula had to get two paramedics and help them to drag off Ahonen and Rajala who were wounded worse than Sinkko. Rajala, a butcher from Helsinki, was rather heavy and it was a hard work to carry him to safety.
As Markkula again had climbed up the hill, panting, Räsänen was lighting his pipe.
- They left, didn't they? I did take a look – some dead were left behind.
- Are we two the only ones here? Markkula muttered sleepily.
- Where are the rest of the platoon?
- Who knows? This is such a ruckus. Go get some sleep if you are able to move?
Markkula had collapsed on a snow covered juniper bush, but he got up and began stumbling for the horse dugout. There he slept nearly until armistice (13. March 1940)
(1571 words)
[Eino Hosia published a memoir of his battles at Taipale and Vuosalmi in 1940 (“Tuliholvin alla”). He was killed in 1941 in Joutseno in one of the very first battles of the Continuation War.]
Fighting at Vuosalmi in March 1940
Journal “Kansa Taisteli” vol. 6/7, 1959
At 0400hrs on March 8, 1940 JR6 alias the Vallila regiment arrived from Taipale to Vuosalmi in Äyräpää where hard battles were going on round the clock. In the ranks of the outfit thrown here also Pvt. Markkula had to spend the last days of the war in a real devil's cauldron.
The final stretch of the journey to Mid-Isthmus, having climbed out of the tarps on lorry decks was no more than 10 km. But it was so demanding for the grey faced trench gnomes of Taipale to wade through snowbanks that they did not pay heed to the shells hitting the ice of Vuosalmi and spraying water on the men.
At the crack of dawn also Pvt. Markkula, a spectacled man with long beard, civilian job assistant editor, was fed wit some porridge. He also managed to beg a couple of dry fags from his Platoon leader, Cavalry 2ndLt. Von Bagh. As they were setting up their tent in a glen of the Äyräpää ridge Markkula imagined that he would find a warm place to sleep for a while. But soon splinters flew through the top of the tent, another set at the middle height and the third so low that Pvt. Niiva would never have returned to take his chair in front of a class had he not imitated a pancake. Soon there were bombs falling down from the air. Paramedics¨were pulling their sledges downhill to the river beach...
Having been lying half a day in a shooting line the platoon von Bagh had to man a fort by the Vuoksi river. The trench sides comprised two and three-man foxholes that were quite nice with fir bough padding and snow cover, compared with frozen ground. Again Markkula was unlucky: he did not find a spot where to stretch his legs. There he vegetated, half dazed, at times standing, at times on all fours in a foxhole where he was able to see the reflections of fires in the night. There was just a Machine gunner, stranger, shivering nearby. At times he got up and fired a few warming up shots at the black shapes that kept running from the shore to the island nearby – like ghosts in a nightmare.
At sunrise Markkula filled his field kettle with dirty snow and made a fire with strips or cardboard torn from a bread carton. It created enough smoke to attract the attention of enemy binocular men. Shells were soon hitting both sides of the trench.
2nd Lt von Bagh who was reading the novel “The house of horrors” by candlelight looked up from his foxhole and yelled:
- Put your blaze out, for Hell's sake, man, or I shall shoot!
Markkula however had managed to prepare his morning coffee and having slurped it down he began to stretch his stiff limbs. Soon he was ordered to stand sentry duty with Pvt. Eino Hosia, a writer. The way to the sentry post passed through a narrow tunnel dug through a railway embankment. Hosia, a large man, pushed himself in the tunnel, puffing and cursing. Markula, however, just walked across the rails
-Don't you, possessed one, know that they have a MG always aimed at this spot ?
-Hosia said as he emerged from the tunnel.
Markula did not have any idea, any more that Pvt Syrjänen who was lying curled at the embankment side, frozen stiff.
As he was going to do his next two hours of duty Markkula, too, used the safer route. But he began to fall asleep while standing up, and woke up as he fell on his face. It was until the following night that Markkula found a place to sleep in a foxhole. There he slept for five hours, more sweetly than a princess on her feather bed.
The day after that Markkula again had to swear because his spot in the foxholes had been occupied. Hosia, too, was annoyed and he snarled when they again were standing as sentries:
- You are a clumsy one for a soldier!. You do not even know how to get a place to stretch your back. Do you have any bread? Here, take this!
Markkula bit in the crispbread as if it were gingerbread. It was more than three days since the porridge had been eaten.
-Thanks a ton, Markkula mumbled, -but...let's move a little aside!
He went some 20 m to the rear and ducked. Hosia followed him unhesitatingly, because he had by now witnessed Markkula's clairvoyance. The very same moment a shell exploded in the spot where they had stood, puffing up a reddish brown cloud...
Well, the next night they were taken back to the ridge. In the morning they were given potato soup and tobacco. They also were cleaning up a horse dugout for their place of accommodation. But at sunset there was another alert. The platoon descended to the shore road and soon was waiting at the pump house of Pölläkkälä railway station.
Markkula slank in the pump house to warm up. In the porch there was a big wheel of cheese with a bayonet stuck in it. But it was just half-ripe! Wounded men were being bandaged in the house, the floor was covered with blood like in a slaughterhouse. Markkula fell asleep in a corner. But the paramedics soon examined him, too, and finding no holes in him chased the gate-crasher out at once.
It was almost dark by now. The platoon had disappeared from the road but there were a couple of shapes climbing up the steep side of the ridge at Pölläkkälä ski jump site. Someone uttered a few words in Russian at the top of the ridge and soon they started firing their weapons.
As Markkula kept strolling on the road he was spotted by an unfamiliar Sergeant whose right arm was bandaged while he held a pistol in his left hand.
Get up the hill now ! Another patrol has penetrated there!
Markkula began to trudge up the snow covered hillside. Before he was on the top he stopped for a break. At the same moment a bullet whistled past his ear, then another and a third. But they were fired from an unexpected quarter.
- Is it me that you are shooting at? Markkula grumbled as he spotted the shooter some twenty meters off.
You, I think...the man was shame-faced.
- I took you for a Vanya...
Pvt. Sinkko was next to the top of the precipe, and Räsänen the SMG gunner, Markkula between the two. Seven housew beyond Vuosalmi were burning as solemn torches. The flames were eerily reflected in the thickets of the ridge. The rattle of firing went down again, both sides were listening, because it was a blind man's buff actually. The enemy patrol appeared to have understood that they were about to be bagged and turned back, having had a look at the terrain.
Again Markkula felt terribly sleepy. The reallity was mixed with confused dreams. Half-dazed he went to Sinkko to get fire to his smoke in the cover of overcoat sleeve. Back in his foxhole he inhaled a few times in the cover of his hand and fell asleep on his knees...
Boom!
The explosion cloud of a hand grenade was billowing about one meter off Markkula's nose. Well, the snow was deep and maybe there was a rock because he did not get one single splinter in his skin.
But Sinkko was swearing quietly. Markkula hurried to him and found that he was wounded in one leg and in the back.
- Why the heck did you start playing with fire, Sinkko whispered, in civilian life a lorry operator.
- How am I ever going to make it down to the road through the snow? It does not make sense to call the stretcher bearers, the Vanyas are less than thirty meters from us judging by their throw.
- Take it easy, it is just flesh wounds since you are not grimacing more than that. Now settle down... Whoa!
Sinkko rolled down the slope like a snowball to the paramedics who were waiting with their sledge.
More shots were ringing out in the dark, and soon it was quiet again.
- There are some wounded over there, Räsänen whispered as soon as he had come to Markkula.
- Try to get them downhill. I am covering you although I do not have more than half a mag of ammo.
The recent trick could not be used any more. Markkula had to get two paramedics and help them to drag off Ahonen and Rajala who were wounded worse than Sinkko. Rajala, a butcher from Helsinki, was rather heavy and it was a hard work to carry him to safety.
As Markkula again had climbed up the hill, panting, Räsänen was lighting his pipe.
- They left, didn't they? I did take a look – some dead were left behind.
- Are we two the only ones here? Markkula muttered sleepily.
- Where are the rest of the platoon?
- Who knows? This is such a ruckus. Go get some sleep if you are able to move?
Markkula had collapsed on a snow covered juniper bush, but he got up and began stumbling for the horse dugout. There he slept nearly until armistice (13. March 1940)
(1571 words)
[Eino Hosia published a memoir of his battles at Taipale and Vuosalmi in 1940 (“Tuliholvin alla”). He was killed in 1941 in Joutseno in one of the very first battles of the Continuation War.]
Re: Personal Finnish War Stories - Viipuri, March 1940
Day of a Machine Gunner in Viipuri
By Antti Vintola.
Journal “KansaTaisteli” vol 05, 1962 pp. 139 – 141 incl. Map
The author was the leader of a MG squad fighting in Viipuri at the very last days of the Winter War.
Since the beginning of March 1940 intense battles have raged in the defensive strongholds at the Eastern suburbs of Viipuri as the Russians stormed at them supported by tanks and artillery. The Finnish positions in Ristimäki terrain at the road and the railway line were specially attacked from Maaskola poorhouse.
The positions at Ristimäki cemetry were defended by the Company of Lt. Arvo Ojala (6.,/JR7), reinforced by a MG platoon led by 2ndLt. Mauno Helpiö. At the SE perimeter of the cemetry was stationed Sgt. Lauri Tiura's MG, shooting direction Kannaksentie road. Ath E corner in the ruins of a concrete foundry included a platoon of infantrymen. At the W corner of the cemetry was NCO Antti Vintola's (=the author) MG, firing direction racetrack.
Next to this MG nest was Lt. Esa Lahtinen's mortar observation post.
The enemy attacks had been repelled each time and the positions at the cemetery were kept. Now it was 11 March 1940 and fighting continued. Since dawn the enemy directed most destructive barrages at the positions of the Company, which ploughed over and crushed the entire cemetry with its graves and gravestones, causing a great number of casualties. At the same time the Russians appeared to be grouping and preparing for another attack.
Lt. Lahtinen in his post called for a good mortar strike at the terrain where the enemy was grouping. Unfortunately there was a shortage of mortar rounds, the firing positions reported that there was no more than 13 pcs. At first Lahtinen intended to save them for the extreme emergency but as the enemy movement kept increasing at the poorhouse terrain he directed the last rounds there.
Then Lahtinen had nothing to do in the front line. He told Vintola who was behind his MG:
- Now we are out of mortar bombs, but if the neighbours should launch an attack, set the MG on the stone fence. There is no other position where you could shoot at the direction the enemy will be coming from.
He was right, because my MG nest was just next to the stone fence, shooting direction racetrack. The poorhouse section defence would have been the duty of the concrete foundry stronghold but unbeknowst to us this stronghold had taken a bullseye, its positions were destroyed and vacated due to great losses. The wounded had been taken in the dugout at the N perimeter of the cemetry because they could not be evacueated in daytime.
Suddenly the enemy shifted the barrage off from our positions, the shelling decreased and died down totally. Silence was such an exception that I was just getting up from the nest intending to take a look at the expected direction of enemy attack. I was just about to do it as two men flew on top of me from the stone fence. Sgt Tiura and Pvt Selin from Tampere who had been in sentry duty with the Sgt.
- Well, what's up ? I asked them.
- As I got out of my MG nest to take a look at the flanks “they” entered our positions with “rat tails” fixed, and I lost my MG to them, Tiura told me.
So the situation was quite shocking: One dugout full of wounded men unevacuated, one MG lost, and the terrain ahead brown with approaching Russians, and my MG in such a nest that could not fire at the attacker. The enemy was not under fire from anywhere.
Then I remembered Lahtinen's advise. I rushed into the MG nest. I thew two cases of ammo to the future new MG position. I disconnected the gun from the tripod and ordered Pvt. Erkki Marjamäki to take the tripod and follow me. In a moment the MG was in position on top of the stone fence and Tiira opened fire. As soon as the first belt had been spent, I told Tiura:
-Set out for Viipuri to get men for counterstrike, I shall keep shooting.
Tiura left and three able-bodied men remained in the stronghold: Pfc. Olli Vuorenmaa fromTampere, Pvt. Marjamäkif from Toijala and the author. Vuorenmaa was seeing to it that there always was a case of cartridges next to the MG at the stone fence while he was keeping an eye at the sides of the fence so that we should not be bayoneted from the flank.
The battle continued. The MG was working flawlessly, and Marjamäki kept inserting a new belt in the feeder as soon as the previous one had passed through. The coolant was boiling, the steam rising in the frosty air revealed our exposed position. We had no cover from vision nor fire. The field of fire, however, was excellent.
The disabled tank on the Radio station hillside to SE woke up and began firing at us with its gun. But we had no time to respect this else feared weapon.
Sound of quick steps were soon squeaking in the frost snow. It was Sgt.Tiura heading for us in long strides, followed by a few men. They were not many but anyway there was some force that was so urgently needed here. The men squatted down behind the stone fence to regain their breath.
-What's the situation like? Was Tiura's first question.
-No more enemies have penetrated the stronghold and I do not think many are left in there, I explained, although I really did not know.
-They are all under my fire, however, I said and went on shooting.
- Let's go, then said Sgt. Tiura and dashed over the stone fence for a counterstrike. His men followed him. I had to keep giving fire, it was needed now if ever. Tiura proceeded up to his old MG position and stayed there to use his weapon.
I stopped shooting and checked my ammo reserve. Before the battle there had been six thousand rounds in my nest, I had consumed five thousand. Now only one thousand was left, there was reason to worry.
Suddenly I felt as if a sharp spike had been pushed through my body. I fell down from the top of the stone fence. I heard how Marjamäki said to Vuorenmaa:
- Antti is gone...
Assisted by Vuorenmaa I managed to get in a nearby dugout, where there were no wounded yet. A paramedic came and explained:
-This is a difficult case. A rifle bullet has pierced his chest. He cannot be bandaged unless I tear off his clothing and now it is very cold. Let us hope that the wound would be coagulated for a while.
Again the Russians launched a heavy barrage. Men came in the dugout to get cover, but immediately they were alerted back to their positions and the dugout was empty again.
I was alone, pondering at my situation: What is going to happen if the front should break down? I kept spitting blood and there was a burning pain in my side because one rib had been broken and my lung wounded.
As the situation in the front line had calmed down, the men returned to the dugout, now there seemed to be more of them than recently.
I asked them:
- Anyone going to Viipuri as soon as the shelling decreases a little?
- I am coming, said Jussi Järvinen, from Messukylä (in Tampere).
- A shell just exploded next to me, the pressure wave hit my ears and they started bleeding. I am no more fit to fight.
- Should we try now? I asked as the artillery fire slackened.
- Let's !
We stopped at the entrance corridor of the dugout to make sure. Then a heavy shell exploded just next to us at the sido of the corridor. I was thrown back but I got up at once and crawled to Järvinen. He was lying among frozen chunks of earth and he did not respond to my questions. I returned to the dugout and told what had happened.
At dusk of 11 March I left the Ristimäki cemetry for Viipuri, in a fairly bad condition. The final leg of the journey to the field dressing station I managed to make in a sled. As I was in an ambulance W of Vainikkala, a man entered and said:
-Lads, it is peace now !
(1416 words)
By Antti Vintola.
Journal “KansaTaisteli” vol 05, 1962 pp. 139 – 141 incl. Map
The author was the leader of a MG squad fighting in Viipuri at the very last days of the Winter War.
Since the beginning of March 1940 intense battles have raged in the defensive strongholds at the Eastern suburbs of Viipuri as the Russians stormed at them supported by tanks and artillery. The Finnish positions in Ristimäki terrain at the road and the railway line were specially attacked from Maaskola poorhouse.
The positions at Ristimäki cemetry were defended by the Company of Lt. Arvo Ojala (6.,/JR7), reinforced by a MG platoon led by 2ndLt. Mauno Helpiö. At the SE perimeter of the cemetry was stationed Sgt. Lauri Tiura's MG, shooting direction Kannaksentie road. Ath E corner in the ruins of a concrete foundry included a platoon of infantrymen. At the W corner of the cemetry was NCO Antti Vintola's (=the author) MG, firing direction racetrack.
Next to this MG nest was Lt. Esa Lahtinen's mortar observation post.
The enemy attacks had been repelled each time and the positions at the cemetery were kept. Now it was 11 March 1940 and fighting continued. Since dawn the enemy directed most destructive barrages at the positions of the Company, which ploughed over and crushed the entire cemetry with its graves and gravestones, causing a great number of casualties. At the same time the Russians appeared to be grouping and preparing for another attack.
Lt. Lahtinen in his post called for a good mortar strike at the terrain where the enemy was grouping. Unfortunately there was a shortage of mortar rounds, the firing positions reported that there was no more than 13 pcs. At first Lahtinen intended to save them for the extreme emergency but as the enemy movement kept increasing at the poorhouse terrain he directed the last rounds there.
Then Lahtinen had nothing to do in the front line. He told Vintola who was behind his MG:
- Now we are out of mortar bombs, but if the neighbours should launch an attack, set the MG on the stone fence. There is no other position where you could shoot at the direction the enemy will be coming from.
He was right, because my MG nest was just next to the stone fence, shooting direction racetrack. The poorhouse section defence would have been the duty of the concrete foundry stronghold but unbeknowst to us this stronghold had taken a bullseye, its positions were destroyed and vacated due to great losses. The wounded had been taken in the dugout at the N perimeter of the cemetry because they could not be evacueated in daytime.
Suddenly the enemy shifted the barrage off from our positions, the shelling decreased and died down totally. Silence was such an exception that I was just getting up from the nest intending to take a look at the expected direction of enemy attack. I was just about to do it as two men flew on top of me from the stone fence. Sgt Tiura and Pvt Selin from Tampere who had been in sentry duty with the Sgt.
- Well, what's up ? I asked them.
- As I got out of my MG nest to take a look at the flanks “they” entered our positions with “rat tails” fixed, and I lost my MG to them, Tiura told me.
So the situation was quite shocking: One dugout full of wounded men unevacuated, one MG lost, and the terrain ahead brown with approaching Russians, and my MG in such a nest that could not fire at the attacker. The enemy was not under fire from anywhere.
Then I remembered Lahtinen's advise. I rushed into the MG nest. I thew two cases of ammo to the future new MG position. I disconnected the gun from the tripod and ordered Pvt. Erkki Marjamäki to take the tripod and follow me. In a moment the MG was in position on top of the stone fence and Tiira opened fire. As soon as the first belt had been spent, I told Tiura:
-Set out for Viipuri to get men for counterstrike, I shall keep shooting.
Tiura left and three able-bodied men remained in the stronghold: Pfc. Olli Vuorenmaa fromTampere, Pvt. Marjamäkif from Toijala and the author. Vuorenmaa was seeing to it that there always was a case of cartridges next to the MG at the stone fence while he was keeping an eye at the sides of the fence so that we should not be bayoneted from the flank.
The battle continued. The MG was working flawlessly, and Marjamäki kept inserting a new belt in the feeder as soon as the previous one had passed through. The coolant was boiling, the steam rising in the frosty air revealed our exposed position. We had no cover from vision nor fire. The field of fire, however, was excellent.
The disabled tank on the Radio station hillside to SE woke up and began firing at us with its gun. But we had no time to respect this else feared weapon.
Sound of quick steps were soon squeaking in the frost snow. It was Sgt.Tiura heading for us in long strides, followed by a few men. They were not many but anyway there was some force that was so urgently needed here. The men squatted down behind the stone fence to regain their breath.
-What's the situation like? Was Tiura's first question.
-No more enemies have penetrated the stronghold and I do not think many are left in there, I explained, although I really did not know.
-They are all under my fire, however, I said and went on shooting.
- Let's go, then said Sgt. Tiura and dashed over the stone fence for a counterstrike. His men followed him. I had to keep giving fire, it was needed now if ever. Tiura proceeded up to his old MG position and stayed there to use his weapon.
I stopped shooting and checked my ammo reserve. Before the battle there had been six thousand rounds in my nest, I had consumed five thousand. Now only one thousand was left, there was reason to worry.
Suddenly I felt as if a sharp spike had been pushed through my body. I fell down from the top of the stone fence. I heard how Marjamäki said to Vuorenmaa:
- Antti is gone...
Assisted by Vuorenmaa I managed to get in a nearby dugout, where there were no wounded yet. A paramedic came and explained:
-This is a difficult case. A rifle bullet has pierced his chest. He cannot be bandaged unless I tear off his clothing and now it is very cold. Let us hope that the wound would be coagulated for a while.
Again the Russians launched a heavy barrage. Men came in the dugout to get cover, but immediately they were alerted back to their positions and the dugout was empty again.
I was alone, pondering at my situation: What is going to happen if the front should break down? I kept spitting blood and there was a burning pain in my side because one rib had been broken and my lung wounded.
As the situation in the front line had calmed down, the men returned to the dugout, now there seemed to be more of them than recently.
I asked them:
- Anyone going to Viipuri as soon as the shelling decreases a little?
- I am coming, said Jussi Järvinen, from Messukylä (in Tampere).
- A shell just exploded next to me, the pressure wave hit my ears and they started bleeding. I am no more fit to fight.
- Should we try now? I asked as the artillery fire slackened.
- Let's !
We stopped at the entrance corridor of the dugout to make sure. Then a heavy shell exploded just next to us at the sido of the corridor. I was thrown back but I got up at once and crawled to Järvinen. He was lying among frozen chunks of earth and he did not respond to my questions. I returned to the dugout and told what had happened.
At dusk of 11 March I left the Ristimäki cemetry for Viipuri, in a fairly bad condition. The final leg of the journey to the field dressing station I managed to make in a sled. As I was in an ambulance W of Vainikkala, a man entered and said:
-Lads, it is peace now !
(1416 words)
Re: Personal Finnish War Stories: a horse driver in the Winter War
Nestori Kirkola
Me and my black horse in the Winter War
Journal "Kansa Taisteli ", vol 08/1959
The author was a horse driver in an Artillery Battalion (of KTR5, tr.rem.) during the Winter War. Horse transport was the mainstay of the logistics, and a third of the men serving in an Artillery Battalions were horse drivers.)
Autumn 1939. A big war had broken out in the West and the waves would soon be rocking us, too. Precautions had been taken and reservists were mobilised for “extra repetitions”. I was among the other men reporting at the rallying point and I was posted as a horse driver. Although my civilian profession was something else, driving a horse was nothing new to me as I had done farm work as a young man, which included driving a horse. I also had served my compulsory military service as a horse driver which was recorded in my military records.
Days passed slowly in preparation under gloomy atmosphere. Gear was distributed, rifles, too – something special was certainly brewing . We were lodged in Turku, in the primary school of Raunistula, where we slept on the floor.
When I had received my gear I was assigned a cart loaded full of stuff and told that I shall now take care of it. I also was told to see to it that none of the stuff on the cart is lost. Then I went with another soldier out of the town to a patch of pine forest where there was a great number of horses tied to trees and guarded. A horse was assigned to me that day, Oct14, and I thought it was odd that the horse that was to prove herself had not yet been taken into use. I took the responsibility of rthe horse with my signature and began to take so good care of her as possible in the circumstances.
The horse was tall, good-natured, shining black mare. Her name was “Pirkko” although I would refer to her as “Blackie” She hailed from Nousiainen (=confiscated from a farmer, tr.rem.) She was 156 cm tall. We became soon the best of pals for six months.
As I returned to the barracks there was more and more talk about us being sent somewhere. In the evening during briefing we learned that the next night we shall embark a train and leave. We guessed that the destination would be the national border but we did not dare to ask about the exact location. We were ordered to be ready at 21,00hrs on the school yard, horses harnessed. As we set out to get the horses some men had lanterns but I failed to join them. In the dark I had problems first in finding the horse corral, then I had to run around and seek until I found Blackie who was there alone, waiting for me. Fine, but now I had lost the harness. Finally I found them, hurried to the school and managed to get everything set up in time. Then we left for an unknown future.
The blacked out town was busy, because there was a lot of baggage train being loaded. There were lots of people standing along the streets watching us. Embarkation was carried out quickly and as soon as it was completed the train set out.
We found ourselves in a covered wagon together with our horses. Stalls for eight horses had been set up and the eight drivers would sleep on hay on the corridor. The horses would kick and nibble each other so that our sleep came next to nought. During a stop on a station we were fed from a field kitchen and we gave hay and water to the horses. We thought it was a long journey until we finally saw Viipuri. We were sure that our destination would be the Carelian Ishmus
Our train stopped at Kämärä station where we were disembarked. Our journey continued to a camp 5km from Summa village where we set up tents.
We started an odd lifestyle in the cold autumn in the Carelian Isthmus, it was October and snow on the ground. There were fir boughs on the ground in the tent and our backpacks were used for pillows, there we would sleep. It is amazing how little a man needs for living and he gets used to it, too. We stayed in the same place until the war started and by the by we began to consider the tent our home, where we loved to return always when getting a chance. It was so crowded that every man had to sleep on his side. A man returning from sentry duty had problems finding a spot to sleep among the men. 18 men in a tent was OK but 20 were too many. There was a stove in the middle of the tent that was stoked by the fire guard so that it was constantly glowing red hot. We would sleep fully clad but still the fir boughs were hard as they dried.
How did our horses get by out of doors? They were tethered to trees, the stable sentries were supposed to look after them and put on the fallen rugs on them. I was ordered in this duty on the very first night. As the big camp was asleep and only the sentries were awake I felt odd here far from home. My thoughts would wander home by themselves. Another idea to ponder was speculation on what would happen. Would it be war or would we be allowed to remain in peace which we hoped for really.
After three days in that spot we were shifted two km from the main road near Korpela farm where we stayed unti mid December. As soon as we had erected the tents we immediately started building fir branch stables for the horses. Every man had to contribute. After the temporary stables were completed we started work at another made of boards. On the Advent Sunday we built it from morning to night and camouflaged wit with small fir trees on the roof.
I was serving in the ranks of the HQ battery, it included 60 men with a driver each. At first the horses were properly cared for but in the course of the war the standard went down and at the end of the war the horses had to suffer greatly from hunger and cold.
Our HQ was situated 2km from our camp. Blackie and I were assigned to ship food from the field kitchen to the stables. I had no other duties but was able to spend my free time wherever I wanted. We considered that our task was an important one, and we did it conscientiously but it was unpleasant when there was too little food or it was bad in quality or taste. We had one pleasant task, however, that earned us praise and smiles. We used to bring the mail from the HQ to the stables which was equally fun for the mailman as for the recipients.
The remaining days of peace I spent as food driver doing my job. There was a call “Blackie is coming” in the camp as we approached and a long queue was set up already. Often it happened that nothing was left for me as I went for my field kettle after bringing in the food and I had to join the end of the queue. Finally I was allowed to get my kettle filled despite the queue. Maybe something extra was put in, I think. Also Blackie, who patiently stood in one place during the food distribution, learned the skill of begging because she would look at the men friendly while moving her lips, some men would give her something. There also always remained crumbles in the dry bread cartons which I gave to Blackie. Sometimes I treated her with a piece of sugar and she would keep licking a long time.
There was a wireless receiver in a nearby farmhouse and we used to go there there in the evening to learn how the situation was developing. I could sometimes even in daytime tether the horse and stop at the yard of the farmhouse; it was too crowded inside. Even the yard was full of men crowding at the open window to hear a news broadcast. We used to speculate which way the situation would turn: good or war.
The matter was settled on the last of November 1939. I was returning with the horse from the HQ as I heard from the farmhouse radio that the war had broken out.
At the stables everyone was serious and loading their stuff because it had been ordered that the loads had to be ready. Communications men and some others left but we remained there until mid December. My Blackie was suffering from ”Tying-up disease” and she had been in the hospital stables several times for treatment.
Now our life had profoundly changed. Hundreds of aircraft were in the air and their buzzing hurt my ears. Also sounds of artillery began to emerge from far away and approach, it was the period of delaying battles. One day our field guns began firing and as I never had heard it I thought it was odd.
But we had to see and hear even more odd things as one day enemy shells flew overhead and hit close to our camp. I thought of my Blackie who used to neigh seeing me. We had become good friends who missed each other.
Our HQ moved into a dugout from the roadside, and the food transport route was shorter. Since my shining black horse was well visible from the air and there always were enemy aircraft in the air, I tied a bedsheet in her back but it would not stay there.
Then we moved to Marjaniemi which was more calm. There we built a good dugout for ourselves and spent the Christmas there. The horses were tied to the trees in the nearby fir forest. As it was more than -30dec C cold and thick snow, our horses were hard up, because fodder was in short supply. The well was far away and due to risk of air attacks we could not take the horses to the water always when it would have been necessary. The distance to the F.O.O.spots, field telephone exchange and other objectives were long, and since rthe supply roads were often shelled, the horses had to be driven hard and they broke into sweat. Then they were tied to a tree to stand there. It was the time as good horsemen were needed, the kind of men who really took care of their horses. There were many kinds of us. Some took good care of their horse, the others could not care less.
When we were in Marjaniemi I did not have to do the food run alone, but a rifleman was there “riding shotgun” in the sleigh for the 10 km stretch through snowy forest. When there we distributed the food, letters and packets in several dugouts before returning. We did the deliveries in the night. The supply road was through Kultakumpu that was constantly being harassed by shelling. There were always fresh shell holes on the road and next to it.
One Sunday we were caught in a real barrage. I and Heinonen were coming from Kultakumpu as it started whistling in the air. We left Blackie to stand on the road and took cover in a gully nearby. After a while we returned to the horse who had been standing there and waiting for us. We hopped in the sleigh and the horse started running at a good speed. We arrived at our lodgings unscathed.
The transports became quite dangerous due to artillery and air attacsk. We considered, however, that they were our important duty. On our way the artillery flashes and rumbling increased the closer to the front line we were coming, and searchlight wedges swept the sky. These were unforgettable sights that are forever imprinted in my memory. It was the period of hard battles in the winter of 1940.
My description is very deficient, I hope someone is able to tell it all better while not forgetting the lowly horsemen. They, too, were full of fighting spirit and willing to do their duty in every situation.
When heading out to Kultakumpu it felt the more difficult the closer to the front we arrived but the return, specially the last leg of the journey, felt easier. We felt that we had again done our duty and also felt grateful to G*d that we were able to return unscathed to our lodgings. It felt so homely even though we had to squat in a hole in the ground.
It is not possible to describe how cold we had. Those who were sleeping in warm rooms at home cannot ever understand how much the front troops had to suffer for the civilians. We withstood it admirably, but some of us got sick and were hospitalized, me too, for two weeks. Another man was driving Blackie then. In the meanwhile we had moved to Säiniö and the horses were finally put under roof. The men were cantonned in villas.
As the enemy broke through at Summa and the general withdrawal started, we no more could put the horses under roof but they were tied to trees in the forests. Finally Säiniö was subjeted to such intense air raids that the snow had turned black and the ground full of smaller or larger craters. As if by miracle the bombs hit unoccupied spots, and we suffered minimal damage. As shells started landing at Säiniö we left for Kilpeenjoki via Heinjoki, Pero and some other places. At Kilpeenjoki we learned that the war had ended.
Burning villages behind us staked the road we had retreated. I wrote in my war diary on 27. Feb.1940 : “The sky is red at several spots. The flames of war are rising to the sky. Why is Finland being destroyed and torched like this? Is Finland allowed to cruble or is there a way to save us? Thoughts of a sentry.”
Now ahead of us was a hard march every day. My Blackie was sick at times but she did hang on. I tried to care for her as the vet had instructed but she was not always able to withstand the strain. Yet I liked her more now than when she had been healthy. Sometimes she was following us unharnessed, but mostly she was pulling the sleigh. The innocent animals had to suffer terribly due to humans.
This is a matter that has been forgottoen and that is why I wish to tell about it because the success of our warfare was to a great extent dependent on the mundane toil of horses. Those quiet and modest labourers did such deeds in our fight for freedom that they should be recorded. Here is one example.
When in Ihantala we were to haul material left behind in Heinjoki. During the night we had hauled in heavy loads and immediately we set out for a new journey because it would not have been possible any later. The day of 21 February 1940 was dawning clear and we had to hurry up on our way out , but also the return trip with the full loads had to be done running because our long column would have been a too enticing target for aircraft. The horses were quite exhausted as we arrived, but there were already aircraft in the air and the briefiest delay would have been dangerous.
My sick Blackie took such a damage during this journey that she never completely recovered. However well I tried to care for her in a cow shed she never appeared to be in good health again. During the next move out she was following us unladen.
We kept doing our duty until the sad 13 March 1940 as the sound of artillery ceased at 11.00hrs and it was peace. On April 12 my Blackie was taken away by a lorry, maybe back to the farm in Nousiainen, where she would get the rest she well deserved. It was as if one of my best friends would have said me goodbye when leaving for an unknown destination. (...)
(2736 words)
Me and my black horse in the Winter War
Journal "Kansa Taisteli ", vol 08/1959
The author was a horse driver in an Artillery Battalion (of KTR5, tr.rem.) during the Winter War. Horse transport was the mainstay of the logistics, and a third of the men serving in an Artillery Battalions were horse drivers.)
Autumn 1939. A big war had broken out in the West and the waves would soon be rocking us, too. Precautions had been taken and reservists were mobilised for “extra repetitions”. I was among the other men reporting at the rallying point and I was posted as a horse driver. Although my civilian profession was something else, driving a horse was nothing new to me as I had done farm work as a young man, which included driving a horse. I also had served my compulsory military service as a horse driver which was recorded in my military records.
Days passed slowly in preparation under gloomy atmosphere. Gear was distributed, rifles, too – something special was certainly brewing . We were lodged in Turku, in the primary school of Raunistula, where we slept on the floor.
When I had received my gear I was assigned a cart loaded full of stuff and told that I shall now take care of it. I also was told to see to it that none of the stuff on the cart is lost. Then I went with another soldier out of the town to a patch of pine forest where there was a great number of horses tied to trees and guarded. A horse was assigned to me that day, Oct14, and I thought it was odd that the horse that was to prove herself had not yet been taken into use. I took the responsibility of rthe horse with my signature and began to take so good care of her as possible in the circumstances.
The horse was tall, good-natured, shining black mare. Her name was “Pirkko” although I would refer to her as “Blackie” She hailed from Nousiainen (=confiscated from a farmer, tr.rem.) She was 156 cm tall. We became soon the best of pals for six months.
As I returned to the barracks there was more and more talk about us being sent somewhere. In the evening during briefing we learned that the next night we shall embark a train and leave. We guessed that the destination would be the national border but we did not dare to ask about the exact location. We were ordered to be ready at 21,00hrs on the school yard, horses harnessed. As we set out to get the horses some men had lanterns but I failed to join them. In the dark I had problems first in finding the horse corral, then I had to run around and seek until I found Blackie who was there alone, waiting for me. Fine, but now I had lost the harness. Finally I found them, hurried to the school and managed to get everything set up in time. Then we left for an unknown future.
The blacked out town was busy, because there was a lot of baggage train being loaded. There were lots of people standing along the streets watching us. Embarkation was carried out quickly and as soon as it was completed the train set out.
We found ourselves in a covered wagon together with our horses. Stalls for eight horses had been set up and the eight drivers would sleep on hay on the corridor. The horses would kick and nibble each other so that our sleep came next to nought. During a stop on a station we were fed from a field kitchen and we gave hay and water to the horses. We thought it was a long journey until we finally saw Viipuri. We were sure that our destination would be the Carelian Ishmus
Our train stopped at Kämärä station where we were disembarked. Our journey continued to a camp 5km from Summa village where we set up tents.
We started an odd lifestyle in the cold autumn in the Carelian Isthmus, it was October and snow on the ground. There were fir boughs on the ground in the tent and our backpacks were used for pillows, there we would sleep. It is amazing how little a man needs for living and he gets used to it, too. We stayed in the same place until the war started and by the by we began to consider the tent our home, where we loved to return always when getting a chance. It was so crowded that every man had to sleep on his side. A man returning from sentry duty had problems finding a spot to sleep among the men. 18 men in a tent was OK but 20 were too many. There was a stove in the middle of the tent that was stoked by the fire guard so that it was constantly glowing red hot. We would sleep fully clad but still the fir boughs were hard as they dried.
How did our horses get by out of doors? They were tethered to trees, the stable sentries were supposed to look after them and put on the fallen rugs on them. I was ordered in this duty on the very first night. As the big camp was asleep and only the sentries were awake I felt odd here far from home. My thoughts would wander home by themselves. Another idea to ponder was speculation on what would happen. Would it be war or would we be allowed to remain in peace which we hoped for really.
After three days in that spot we were shifted two km from the main road near Korpela farm where we stayed unti mid December. As soon as we had erected the tents we immediately started building fir branch stables for the horses. Every man had to contribute. After the temporary stables were completed we started work at another made of boards. On the Advent Sunday we built it from morning to night and camouflaged wit with small fir trees on the roof.
I was serving in the ranks of the HQ battery, it included 60 men with a driver each. At first the horses were properly cared for but in the course of the war the standard went down and at the end of the war the horses had to suffer greatly from hunger and cold.
Our HQ was situated 2km from our camp. Blackie and I were assigned to ship food from the field kitchen to the stables. I had no other duties but was able to spend my free time wherever I wanted. We considered that our task was an important one, and we did it conscientiously but it was unpleasant when there was too little food or it was bad in quality or taste. We had one pleasant task, however, that earned us praise and smiles. We used to bring the mail from the HQ to the stables which was equally fun for the mailman as for the recipients.
The remaining days of peace I spent as food driver doing my job. There was a call “Blackie is coming” in the camp as we approached and a long queue was set up already. Often it happened that nothing was left for me as I went for my field kettle after bringing in the food and I had to join the end of the queue. Finally I was allowed to get my kettle filled despite the queue. Maybe something extra was put in, I think. Also Blackie, who patiently stood in one place during the food distribution, learned the skill of begging because she would look at the men friendly while moving her lips, some men would give her something. There also always remained crumbles in the dry bread cartons which I gave to Blackie. Sometimes I treated her with a piece of sugar and she would keep licking a long time.
There was a wireless receiver in a nearby farmhouse and we used to go there there in the evening to learn how the situation was developing. I could sometimes even in daytime tether the horse and stop at the yard of the farmhouse; it was too crowded inside. Even the yard was full of men crowding at the open window to hear a news broadcast. We used to speculate which way the situation would turn: good or war.
The matter was settled on the last of November 1939. I was returning with the horse from the HQ as I heard from the farmhouse radio that the war had broken out.
At the stables everyone was serious and loading their stuff because it had been ordered that the loads had to be ready. Communications men and some others left but we remained there until mid December. My Blackie was suffering from ”Tying-up disease” and she had been in the hospital stables several times for treatment.
Now our life had profoundly changed. Hundreds of aircraft were in the air and their buzzing hurt my ears. Also sounds of artillery began to emerge from far away and approach, it was the period of delaying battles. One day our field guns began firing and as I never had heard it I thought it was odd.
But we had to see and hear even more odd things as one day enemy shells flew overhead and hit close to our camp. I thought of my Blackie who used to neigh seeing me. We had become good friends who missed each other.
Our HQ moved into a dugout from the roadside, and the food transport route was shorter. Since my shining black horse was well visible from the air and there always were enemy aircraft in the air, I tied a bedsheet in her back but it would not stay there.
Then we moved to Marjaniemi which was more calm. There we built a good dugout for ourselves and spent the Christmas there. The horses were tied to the trees in the nearby fir forest. As it was more than -30dec C cold and thick snow, our horses were hard up, because fodder was in short supply. The well was far away and due to risk of air attacks we could not take the horses to the water always when it would have been necessary. The distance to the F.O.O.spots, field telephone exchange and other objectives were long, and since rthe supply roads were often shelled, the horses had to be driven hard and they broke into sweat. Then they were tied to a tree to stand there. It was the time as good horsemen were needed, the kind of men who really took care of their horses. There were many kinds of us. Some took good care of their horse, the others could not care less.
When we were in Marjaniemi I did not have to do the food run alone, but a rifleman was there “riding shotgun” in the sleigh for the 10 km stretch through snowy forest. When there we distributed the food, letters and packets in several dugouts before returning. We did the deliveries in the night. The supply road was through Kultakumpu that was constantly being harassed by shelling. There were always fresh shell holes on the road and next to it.
One Sunday we were caught in a real barrage. I and Heinonen were coming from Kultakumpu as it started whistling in the air. We left Blackie to stand on the road and took cover in a gully nearby. After a while we returned to the horse who had been standing there and waiting for us. We hopped in the sleigh and the horse started running at a good speed. We arrived at our lodgings unscathed.
The transports became quite dangerous due to artillery and air attacsk. We considered, however, that they were our important duty. On our way the artillery flashes and rumbling increased the closer to the front line we were coming, and searchlight wedges swept the sky. These were unforgettable sights that are forever imprinted in my memory. It was the period of hard battles in the winter of 1940.
My description is very deficient, I hope someone is able to tell it all better while not forgetting the lowly horsemen. They, too, were full of fighting spirit and willing to do their duty in every situation.
When heading out to Kultakumpu it felt the more difficult the closer to the front we arrived but the return, specially the last leg of the journey, felt easier. We felt that we had again done our duty and also felt grateful to G*d that we were able to return unscathed to our lodgings. It felt so homely even though we had to squat in a hole in the ground.
It is not possible to describe how cold we had. Those who were sleeping in warm rooms at home cannot ever understand how much the front troops had to suffer for the civilians. We withstood it admirably, but some of us got sick and were hospitalized, me too, for two weeks. Another man was driving Blackie then. In the meanwhile we had moved to Säiniö and the horses were finally put under roof. The men were cantonned in villas.
As the enemy broke through at Summa and the general withdrawal started, we no more could put the horses under roof but they were tied to trees in the forests. Finally Säiniö was subjeted to such intense air raids that the snow had turned black and the ground full of smaller or larger craters. As if by miracle the bombs hit unoccupied spots, and we suffered minimal damage. As shells started landing at Säiniö we left for Kilpeenjoki via Heinjoki, Pero and some other places. At Kilpeenjoki we learned that the war had ended.
Burning villages behind us staked the road we had retreated. I wrote in my war diary on 27. Feb.1940 : “The sky is red at several spots. The flames of war are rising to the sky. Why is Finland being destroyed and torched like this? Is Finland allowed to cruble or is there a way to save us? Thoughts of a sentry.”
Now ahead of us was a hard march every day. My Blackie was sick at times but she did hang on. I tried to care for her as the vet had instructed but she was not always able to withstand the strain. Yet I liked her more now than when she had been healthy. Sometimes she was following us unharnessed, but mostly she was pulling the sleigh. The innocent animals had to suffer terribly due to humans.
This is a matter that has been forgottoen and that is why I wish to tell about it because the success of our warfare was to a great extent dependent on the mundane toil of horses. Those quiet and modest labourers did such deeds in our fight for freedom that they should be recorded. Here is one example.
When in Ihantala we were to haul material left behind in Heinjoki. During the night we had hauled in heavy loads and immediately we set out for a new journey because it would not have been possible any later. The day of 21 February 1940 was dawning clear and we had to hurry up on our way out , but also the return trip with the full loads had to be done running because our long column would have been a too enticing target for aircraft. The horses were quite exhausted as we arrived, but there were already aircraft in the air and the briefiest delay would have been dangerous.
My sick Blackie took such a damage during this journey that she never completely recovered. However well I tried to care for her in a cow shed she never appeared to be in good health again. During the next move out she was following us unladen.
We kept doing our duty until the sad 13 March 1940 as the sound of artillery ceased at 11.00hrs and it was peace. On April 12 my Blackie was taken away by a lorry, maybe back to the farm in Nousiainen, where she would get the rest she well deserved. It was as if one of my best friends would have said me goodbye when leaving for an unknown destination. (...)
(2736 words)
Re: Personal Finnish War Stories: Petsamo
Kaarlo Erho:
Fighting in the fells in Kalastajasaarento in 1941
Journal "Kansa Taisteli", vol. 09/1959
(Rybatschi poluostrov, Rybachy Peninsula, Fiskerhalvoeya is the northernmost part of continental European Russia . ) Probably the author was serving in the ranks of JR14 that was at the time (autumn 1941) supporting Germans at the Arctic Ocean coast.
I and Pfc. Raitanen were lying prone side by side in our positions on top of a rocky ridge chatting this and that, reminiscing the past and guessing about the future. It was another stint of sentry duty as we were peering at the enemy gun nests at the end of the Maattivuono fjord. Everything appeared to be quiet there, so we were satisifed with ourselves and the enemy, everything implied that this night would pass in a calm manner without skirmishing. Skirmishing had been almost a daily occurrence for us.
In the small hours we found something unusual: on a rock South of us, that is, almost in our rear, there was the sound of a firing MG and most oddly we were able to see a jet of tracer bullets flying overhead quite high. It made us wonder because as far as we knew there should not have been a MG nest, neither any other auto weapons. We were nonplussed.
We could not understand what that kind of firing could signify and we were not able to think of a sensible explanation although we tried to suppose all kinds of things. On top of it all the enemy mortars started action, so the enemy had got angry due to the night shooting and now were dropping rounds at us with every mortar they had. Then the artillery joined the show. The shelling was in our estimate aimed at the first aid post and the supply road starting there. We were not having a hard time in the front line, but it was an annyoing situation: being uninformed is the worst nuisance in the front line
Time went on and we were not replaced at the normal hour which made us suspect that something was wrong. We would like to go and find out but we could not leave our sentry post, one of the most important in our stronghold. Finally the new sentries came. We could tell by their countenance that something special had happened, but they were so worked up that we could not make sense of their explanations.
At our lodgings we learned what had happened. 2nd Lt. Ylinen was serious when he briefed us.
-Now the devil is loose, he started. - During the night the enemy has managed to cross the Maattivuono fjord somewhere in the South behind our back, they then had advanced soundlessly along a canyon right in the middle of our line and now they are holding the hillock at the first aid post. It is a kind of key position, because from there they are able to keep under fire every one of the canyons we are using as our communications routes. Every Platoon is in a way surrounded, we do not have any contact between our Platoons, specially the 1st is completely cut off in their stronghold.
We do have a phone contact with the Company command post but the other platoons do not have telephones. Enemy MG s are seeing to it that not a single man will be able to move from one platoon to another, the ladsof the 1st platoon have found that out after several attempts. Two of them are wounded, lying at the bottom of the canyon and the others are not able to help them. Everyone trying to do it has been repelled with MG fire. Three or four who tried had to be taken to the first aid post. I do not permit anyone give a try anymore because our platoon is now down to nine men in strenght.
In spite of Lt. Ylinen's ban two more lads had set out to attempt to save or even help the wounded. They had managed to take themselves at hearing distance from the wounded before they were spotted by the enemy and then one hell of as show started in the canyon . The foolhardy men who had crept in the canyon were under fire by one MG and several lighter auto weapons. They were fortunate enough to find shelter from the fire behind a rock but as a punishment for their foolhardiness they had to lie the entire day in the canyon under enemy fire. The only positive result of their attempt was that they had found out that the wounded men were sheltered from the enemy fire but due to leg wounds they were unable to move unassisted. Although we learned this not until the situation was happily over.
Our platoon leader received orders by phone to launch a counterstrike with the remains of his platoon. The plan was that we should try to go up the mountainside at the First aid post, then we would charge with hand grenades and SMG s to make the enemy budge. Then the other platoon would join the fray, each from their flank, actually only by providing support fire, because the mountaintop was virtually inaccessible from any other quarter, at least in a battle situation. From somewhere also four German Gebirgsjaegers had appeared, who would join our operation.
The battle plan did not appear to be a very promising one, because we numbered just 11 men including the Lieut. Our task would include charging up a fairly smooth mountainside with enemy quite well entrenched on top of it behind boulders.
Our task was dangerous and difficult, no doubt about that. Our outfit comprised mostly young volunteer schoolboys lacking war experience. They were not lacking courage and pluck, it must be admitted for their honour. Our platoon leader, too, was a young student whose limited war experience had been gained in the “mountain desert skirmishing” during two months on this fell. That is why he now – as always in a similar situation – discussed with me and Raitanen because we were the only ones who had been in the Winter War.
I told the Lieut my opinion without flinching: our attempt looked hopeless but I was willing to try whatever he ordered. Raitanen agreed with me.
The Lieut was serious. After thinking for a while he said:
-I have sworn to be prepared to sacrifice my life for my fatherland and I shall not renege on my promise ..(snip)
The Lieut might have continued his earnest speech but an explosive bullet that cracked at the side of a rock nearby interrupted him. It was a messenger warning about getting too sentimental in war.
2nd Lt. Himberg whose platoon was completely in “motti” on our left had done something that we considered a miracle. He had traversed the supply road and the wide canyon where the two wounded men were despite merciless enemy fire. This he did just to get his orders for the task. Having been briefed he returned and happily arrived, although we all thought it would be outright impossible.
Now it was the H hour for us. We had a couple of mortars to support us which of course would be of significant help for our enterprise. Our platoon was divived in two squads, one of which comprising four men was set under my command by the Lieut. Our task was to proceed up the mountainside as soon as the mortars had softened up the enemy held terrain. The other squad would be following us at our heels.
We began to advance slowly, taking cover as much as the rocky mountainside allowed. We soon reached a kind of plateau without any sign of life in the enemy line. That may have made us a little careless and we proceeded almost standing up. I was hoping that we would reach our objective without any skirmishing until I heard a shot and Pvt. Hinkkala next to me dropped. I heard him call my name and then mumble something that I was not able to make out. I ducked at once and shouted that everyone should follow my example. Hardly were we prone as auto weapons started chattering at the top of the rock. Fortunately we were in a dead angle for them and the bullets were whistling overhead.
I considered but for a moment. Hinkkala was lying down, quiet as a dead man, at the moment I thought he had reached the end of his journey. That is why I thought it was best to try to withdraw behind the cover of a rocky ridge and from there to return in full cover to the others. I told the lads to crawl as flat as possible back to our starting point. We were successful despite the continuous enemy fire. Just as I was rolling myself over the lip of the ridge I heard Hinkkala call my name and shout something I could not decipher. So he was alive, and we would have to try to rescue him from his predicament.
I thought in this situation it would be best to talk with the Lieut as Hinkkala obviously was not in a major danger. He found himself in a dead corner that could not hit by enemy fire. Also I would have to find out if the lads were willing to join another dangerous enterprise after their recent experience. I called Hinkkala's name and promised to come and get him out as soon as I had reported to the Lieut. I do not know if he ever heard me beause I never met him fully conscious again afterwards.
I explained the situation and the Hinkkala case to the Lieut as well as I wasable to. I promised to rescue the man if I only got a couple of volunteers. Privates Iikkala and Junttila volunteered at once and we set out to proceed on the very same route as we had just returned.
I had not thought of any clear plan how to rescue Hinkkala but as we were crawling the idea was created spontaneously. Having been in sentry duty during the night I was still wearing my greatcoat. I remember that the Lieut had remarked me that I was a bit of a fool when dragging along a heavy overcoat in the situation we found ourselves in. I had just said that it is a foul bird that is not able to carry its feathers and kept wearing the coat. Now our plan depended on the greatcoat.
Staying low we managed to crawl to the wounded Hinkkala . I tried to ask some questions but the lad was not able to answer anything, he just kept nodding his head. I left him alone and began to undress my greatcoat, rolling on the ground. Finally I managed to do it and we were able to proceed to the next step. I told the lads that we would have to roll Hinkkala on the greatcoat spread on the ground. It was an arduous task since the enemy was firing at us all the time at full rate. Finally we managed to complete the operation and began the cumbersome return journey.
We crawled like lizards we slowly advanced for the ridge top as the enemy kept firing like crazy. Finally we made it behind the ridge top with our precious cargo, we were even able to get up and squat. While regaining our breath we tried to find out about Hinkkala's wounds. We found just one bullet hole, nothing more, however hard we tried. After a while we had recovered enough to carry the wounded man to the first aid post. The doc explained that the bullet had damaged his spine which had resulted in temporary paralysis. He would make a full recovery in the course of time, we were assured, and that comforted us. In a way it was the reward for our work that had not been in vain.
The enemy was still on the ridge top. The Company CO was enquiring as to the reason our action was lingering, the Lieut explained the situation as well as he was able to and he promised to make immediately another attempt. For some reason a rumour was being spread: the man who is the first one to take down the enemy flag on the ridge shall get ten days of home furlough. This rumour may have been totally unfounded but it did have its effect on some men, one could see how eager they were to try.
The mortar fired a little more than last time and while they were firing we crept behind the rock to wait for the moment to assault. It was lucky for us because we were able to observe the effect of the mortar fire. At first the bombs were falling long so we informed the F.O.O. That he should decrease the range and soon the rounds were falling on the desired spots. The enemy was forced to move and then the Lieut ordered us to charge.
He was the first to reach the next plateau while we were following him in a scattered crowd. The Lieut and his runner were a little to the left and ahead of me. Everyone was firing at the enemy moving about on the top of the ridge as fast as he could. Also the platoons on our wings had opened up with all weapons to support us. The enemy, having minimal cover on the top of the fell, must have had a hard time. I did my best to be one of the first to get to the top, maybe the rumour of the furlough had affected me, too. I cannot deny that it would have been nice to get home from this stone desert for a few days.
I had traded my rifle for pvt. Hinkkala's Swiss SMG (=Neuhausen, tr.rem.) that in my opinion was a light and snappy weapon. I had already spent a couple of mags and I swapped in a full one at the last plateau before the target.
The lieut and his runner were at the middle of the plateau as I saw him stumnle, then fall on his knees, the pistol he was holding in his hand dropped in pieces on the rock. I heard him shout to me that he was wounded. My first idea was to go and help him but then it flashed in my mind: Where did the bullet come from?
Glancing over my shoulder to the right I saw three enemies squatting behind the boulders behind us. I pointed my weapon at them and pressed the trigger -
I swore as my SMG malfunctioned at a crucial moment. I tried to recock the weapon and pull the trigger but the weapon stayed mute. I realised that I had just put in a full mag, and I remembered now the mags had the basic flaw that the mag spring was too weak to feed if the mag was filled to capacity.
I saw three enemies and it looked like our men had passed them so there was no help to be expected. Only one of the enemies had a rifle, the others had been equipped with hand grenades. I saw how the rifleman lifted his weapon at his cheek and aimed at me. At the moment I definitely remembered all the methods of taking cover that I had learned during my training but there were none applicable here. I dropped flat on the rock while trying to remove the stoppage of my weapon.
I did not make it down to the ground as I felt a strong hit at my shoulder. It was as if I had been hit with a gigantic club. I felt – rather sensed – that my legs were lifted up from the ground and I was flying in the air, landing in a three meter deep ravine. This flight through the air saved me, because at the moment the rifleman had fired his gun at me his comrades had each thrown a hand grenade, but the hit I took pushed me off from the spot where the grenades exploded.
An explosive bullet had hit the tip of my left shoulder blade but fortunately it exploded skin deep, so that the splinters just tore the back of my tunic and my undershirt into shreds. Some minor splinters penetrated my head at the neck and maybe shoulders, too.
Falling in the ravine broke some of my ribs and caused some other minor damage.
By that time I had already lost my consciousness.
The last that I realised after being hit was the odd but familiar groan that was caused by air exiting my lungs. It made me think one last thought: Is it like this to die in the front line ? I had heard this kind of groan many a time as a man had met the end of their journey in the front, in this war and also in the Winter War.
Afterwards I was told that the two Germans with us had (prudently! tr.rem.) stayed far enough behind to see this incident and they had been able to take out the rifleman and the hand grenade men. Those enemies were no more resisting our charge.
I came to as I felt a finger pressing on my neck and a hand seeking the first aid bandage in my tunic pocket. Someone was speaking German: "Sind Sie schwierig verwundet?" (Sic!)
I understood I was being questioned about my wounds. I tried to explain in German as I best could that my wound is in my back, which he could not see as I had fallen in the canyon on my back. He had only seen a bleeding wound on the right side of my neck which he bandaged. Then he started turning me on my stomach but having seen my wound in my back he stopped. He explained something in his language of which I understood enough that he promised to get Finnish stretcher bearers . Soon two lads with a stretcher came and took me to the first aid post.
In the evening having been bandaged I was told by the lads of our platoon that the mountain taking operation had succeeded as planned and we had lost no more than one dead and four wounded. At dusk we left, sitting in horseback, for the next stage of the evacuation process.
(3090 words)
Fighting in the fells in Kalastajasaarento in 1941
Journal "Kansa Taisteli", vol. 09/1959
(Rybatschi poluostrov, Rybachy Peninsula, Fiskerhalvoeya is the northernmost part of continental European Russia . ) Probably the author was serving in the ranks of JR14 that was at the time (autumn 1941) supporting Germans at the Arctic Ocean coast.
I and Pfc. Raitanen were lying prone side by side in our positions on top of a rocky ridge chatting this and that, reminiscing the past and guessing about the future. It was another stint of sentry duty as we were peering at the enemy gun nests at the end of the Maattivuono fjord. Everything appeared to be quiet there, so we were satisifed with ourselves and the enemy, everything implied that this night would pass in a calm manner without skirmishing. Skirmishing had been almost a daily occurrence for us.
In the small hours we found something unusual: on a rock South of us, that is, almost in our rear, there was the sound of a firing MG and most oddly we were able to see a jet of tracer bullets flying overhead quite high. It made us wonder because as far as we knew there should not have been a MG nest, neither any other auto weapons. We were nonplussed.
We could not understand what that kind of firing could signify and we were not able to think of a sensible explanation although we tried to suppose all kinds of things. On top of it all the enemy mortars started action, so the enemy had got angry due to the night shooting and now were dropping rounds at us with every mortar they had. Then the artillery joined the show. The shelling was in our estimate aimed at the first aid post and the supply road starting there. We were not having a hard time in the front line, but it was an annyoing situation: being uninformed is the worst nuisance in the front line
Time went on and we were not replaced at the normal hour which made us suspect that something was wrong. We would like to go and find out but we could not leave our sentry post, one of the most important in our stronghold. Finally the new sentries came. We could tell by their countenance that something special had happened, but they were so worked up that we could not make sense of their explanations.
At our lodgings we learned what had happened. 2nd Lt. Ylinen was serious when he briefed us.
-Now the devil is loose, he started. - During the night the enemy has managed to cross the Maattivuono fjord somewhere in the South behind our back, they then had advanced soundlessly along a canyon right in the middle of our line and now they are holding the hillock at the first aid post. It is a kind of key position, because from there they are able to keep under fire every one of the canyons we are using as our communications routes. Every Platoon is in a way surrounded, we do not have any contact between our Platoons, specially the 1st is completely cut off in their stronghold.
We do have a phone contact with the Company command post but the other platoons do not have telephones. Enemy MG s are seeing to it that not a single man will be able to move from one platoon to another, the ladsof the 1st platoon have found that out after several attempts. Two of them are wounded, lying at the bottom of the canyon and the others are not able to help them. Everyone trying to do it has been repelled with MG fire. Three or four who tried had to be taken to the first aid post. I do not permit anyone give a try anymore because our platoon is now down to nine men in strenght.
In spite of Lt. Ylinen's ban two more lads had set out to attempt to save or even help the wounded. They had managed to take themselves at hearing distance from the wounded before they were spotted by the enemy and then one hell of as show started in the canyon . The foolhardy men who had crept in the canyon were under fire by one MG and several lighter auto weapons. They were fortunate enough to find shelter from the fire behind a rock but as a punishment for their foolhardiness they had to lie the entire day in the canyon under enemy fire. The only positive result of their attempt was that they had found out that the wounded men were sheltered from the enemy fire but due to leg wounds they were unable to move unassisted. Although we learned this not until the situation was happily over.
Our platoon leader received orders by phone to launch a counterstrike with the remains of his platoon. The plan was that we should try to go up the mountainside at the First aid post, then we would charge with hand grenades and SMG s to make the enemy budge. Then the other platoon would join the fray, each from their flank, actually only by providing support fire, because the mountaintop was virtually inaccessible from any other quarter, at least in a battle situation. From somewhere also four German Gebirgsjaegers had appeared, who would join our operation.
The battle plan did not appear to be a very promising one, because we numbered just 11 men including the Lieut. Our task would include charging up a fairly smooth mountainside with enemy quite well entrenched on top of it behind boulders.
Our task was dangerous and difficult, no doubt about that. Our outfit comprised mostly young volunteer schoolboys lacking war experience. They were not lacking courage and pluck, it must be admitted for their honour. Our platoon leader, too, was a young student whose limited war experience had been gained in the “mountain desert skirmishing” during two months on this fell. That is why he now – as always in a similar situation – discussed with me and Raitanen because we were the only ones who had been in the Winter War.
I told the Lieut my opinion without flinching: our attempt looked hopeless but I was willing to try whatever he ordered. Raitanen agreed with me.
The Lieut was serious. After thinking for a while he said:
-I have sworn to be prepared to sacrifice my life for my fatherland and I shall not renege on my promise ..(snip)
The Lieut might have continued his earnest speech but an explosive bullet that cracked at the side of a rock nearby interrupted him. It was a messenger warning about getting too sentimental in war.
2nd Lt. Himberg whose platoon was completely in “motti” on our left had done something that we considered a miracle. He had traversed the supply road and the wide canyon where the two wounded men were despite merciless enemy fire. This he did just to get his orders for the task. Having been briefed he returned and happily arrived, although we all thought it would be outright impossible.
Now it was the H hour for us. We had a couple of mortars to support us which of course would be of significant help for our enterprise. Our platoon was divived in two squads, one of which comprising four men was set under my command by the Lieut. Our task was to proceed up the mountainside as soon as the mortars had softened up the enemy held terrain. The other squad would be following us at our heels.
We began to advance slowly, taking cover as much as the rocky mountainside allowed. We soon reached a kind of plateau without any sign of life in the enemy line. That may have made us a little careless and we proceeded almost standing up. I was hoping that we would reach our objective without any skirmishing until I heard a shot and Pvt. Hinkkala next to me dropped. I heard him call my name and then mumble something that I was not able to make out. I ducked at once and shouted that everyone should follow my example. Hardly were we prone as auto weapons started chattering at the top of the rock. Fortunately we were in a dead angle for them and the bullets were whistling overhead.
I considered but for a moment. Hinkkala was lying down, quiet as a dead man, at the moment I thought he had reached the end of his journey. That is why I thought it was best to try to withdraw behind the cover of a rocky ridge and from there to return in full cover to the others. I told the lads to crawl as flat as possible back to our starting point. We were successful despite the continuous enemy fire. Just as I was rolling myself over the lip of the ridge I heard Hinkkala call my name and shout something I could not decipher. So he was alive, and we would have to try to rescue him from his predicament.
I thought in this situation it would be best to talk with the Lieut as Hinkkala obviously was not in a major danger. He found himself in a dead corner that could not hit by enemy fire. Also I would have to find out if the lads were willing to join another dangerous enterprise after their recent experience. I called Hinkkala's name and promised to come and get him out as soon as I had reported to the Lieut. I do not know if he ever heard me beause I never met him fully conscious again afterwards.
I explained the situation and the Hinkkala case to the Lieut as well as I wasable to. I promised to rescue the man if I only got a couple of volunteers. Privates Iikkala and Junttila volunteered at once and we set out to proceed on the very same route as we had just returned.
I had not thought of any clear plan how to rescue Hinkkala but as we were crawling the idea was created spontaneously. Having been in sentry duty during the night I was still wearing my greatcoat. I remember that the Lieut had remarked me that I was a bit of a fool when dragging along a heavy overcoat in the situation we found ourselves in. I had just said that it is a foul bird that is not able to carry its feathers and kept wearing the coat. Now our plan depended on the greatcoat.
Staying low we managed to crawl to the wounded Hinkkala . I tried to ask some questions but the lad was not able to answer anything, he just kept nodding his head. I left him alone and began to undress my greatcoat, rolling on the ground. Finally I managed to do it and we were able to proceed to the next step. I told the lads that we would have to roll Hinkkala on the greatcoat spread on the ground. It was an arduous task since the enemy was firing at us all the time at full rate. Finally we managed to complete the operation and began the cumbersome return journey.
We crawled like lizards we slowly advanced for the ridge top as the enemy kept firing like crazy. Finally we made it behind the ridge top with our precious cargo, we were even able to get up and squat. While regaining our breath we tried to find out about Hinkkala's wounds. We found just one bullet hole, nothing more, however hard we tried. After a while we had recovered enough to carry the wounded man to the first aid post. The doc explained that the bullet had damaged his spine which had resulted in temporary paralysis. He would make a full recovery in the course of time, we were assured, and that comforted us. In a way it was the reward for our work that had not been in vain.
The enemy was still on the ridge top. The Company CO was enquiring as to the reason our action was lingering, the Lieut explained the situation as well as he was able to and he promised to make immediately another attempt. For some reason a rumour was being spread: the man who is the first one to take down the enemy flag on the ridge shall get ten days of home furlough. This rumour may have been totally unfounded but it did have its effect on some men, one could see how eager they were to try.
The mortar fired a little more than last time and while they were firing we crept behind the rock to wait for the moment to assault. It was lucky for us because we were able to observe the effect of the mortar fire. At first the bombs were falling long so we informed the F.O.O. That he should decrease the range and soon the rounds were falling on the desired spots. The enemy was forced to move and then the Lieut ordered us to charge.
He was the first to reach the next plateau while we were following him in a scattered crowd. The Lieut and his runner were a little to the left and ahead of me. Everyone was firing at the enemy moving about on the top of the ridge as fast as he could. Also the platoons on our wings had opened up with all weapons to support us. The enemy, having minimal cover on the top of the fell, must have had a hard time. I did my best to be one of the first to get to the top, maybe the rumour of the furlough had affected me, too. I cannot deny that it would have been nice to get home from this stone desert for a few days.
I had traded my rifle for pvt. Hinkkala's Swiss SMG (=Neuhausen, tr.rem.) that in my opinion was a light and snappy weapon. I had already spent a couple of mags and I swapped in a full one at the last plateau before the target.
The lieut and his runner were at the middle of the plateau as I saw him stumnle, then fall on his knees, the pistol he was holding in his hand dropped in pieces on the rock. I heard him shout to me that he was wounded. My first idea was to go and help him but then it flashed in my mind: Where did the bullet come from?
Glancing over my shoulder to the right I saw three enemies squatting behind the boulders behind us. I pointed my weapon at them and pressed the trigger -
I swore as my SMG malfunctioned at a crucial moment. I tried to recock the weapon and pull the trigger but the weapon stayed mute. I realised that I had just put in a full mag, and I remembered now the mags had the basic flaw that the mag spring was too weak to feed if the mag was filled to capacity.
I saw three enemies and it looked like our men had passed them so there was no help to be expected. Only one of the enemies had a rifle, the others had been equipped with hand grenades. I saw how the rifleman lifted his weapon at his cheek and aimed at me. At the moment I definitely remembered all the methods of taking cover that I had learned during my training but there were none applicable here. I dropped flat on the rock while trying to remove the stoppage of my weapon.
I did not make it down to the ground as I felt a strong hit at my shoulder. It was as if I had been hit with a gigantic club. I felt – rather sensed – that my legs were lifted up from the ground and I was flying in the air, landing in a three meter deep ravine. This flight through the air saved me, because at the moment the rifleman had fired his gun at me his comrades had each thrown a hand grenade, but the hit I took pushed me off from the spot where the grenades exploded.
An explosive bullet had hit the tip of my left shoulder blade but fortunately it exploded skin deep, so that the splinters just tore the back of my tunic and my undershirt into shreds. Some minor splinters penetrated my head at the neck and maybe shoulders, too.
Falling in the ravine broke some of my ribs and caused some other minor damage.
By that time I had already lost my consciousness.
The last that I realised after being hit was the odd but familiar groan that was caused by air exiting my lungs. It made me think one last thought: Is it like this to die in the front line ? I had heard this kind of groan many a time as a man had met the end of their journey in the front, in this war and also in the Winter War.
Afterwards I was told that the two Germans with us had (prudently! tr.rem.) stayed far enough behind to see this incident and they had been able to take out the rifleman and the hand grenade men. Those enemies were no more resisting our charge.
I came to as I felt a finger pressing on my neck and a hand seeking the first aid bandage in my tunic pocket. Someone was speaking German: "Sind Sie schwierig verwundet?" (Sic!)
I understood I was being questioned about my wounds. I tried to explain in German as I best could that my wound is in my back, which he could not see as I had fallen in the canyon on my back. He had only seen a bleeding wound on the right side of my neck which he bandaged. Then he started turning me on my stomach but having seen my wound in my back he stopped. He explained something in his language of which I understood enough that he promised to get Finnish stretcher bearers . Soon two lads with a stretcher came and took me to the first aid post.
In the evening having been bandaged I was told by the lads of our platoon that the mountain taking operation had succeeded as planned and we had lost no more than one dead and four wounded. At dusk we left, sitting in horseback, for the next stage of the evacuation process.
(3090 words)