Lieutenant Bobrov came up to me unexpectedly with these words:
“Yashka, take this and deliver it to my wife after the attack. I have had a presentiment for three days that I shall not survive this battle.” He handed me a letter and a ring.
“But, Lieutenant,” I objected, though I knew that protestations were of no avail at such a moment, “you are mistaken so. It will not happen. Presentiments are deceiving.”
He grimly shook his head and pressed my hand.
“Not this one, Yashka,” he said.
We were in the trenches already, under a veritable hail of shells. There were dead and dying in our midst. Waist-deep in water we crouched, praying to God. Suddenly a gas wave came in our direction. It caught some without their masks, and for them there was no escape. I, myself, narrowly missed this horrible death. My lips contracted and my eyes watered and burned for three weeks afterward.
The signal to advance was given, and we started, knee-deep in mud, for the enemy. In places the pools reached above our waists. Shells and bullets played havoc among us. Of those who fell wounded, many sank in the mud and were drowned. The German fire was devastating. Our lines grew thinner and thinner, and progress became so slow that our doom was certain in the event of a further advance.
The order to retreat rang out. How can one describe the march back through the inferno of No Man’s Land on that night of March 7th, 1916? There were wounded men submerged all but their heads, calling piteously for help. “Save me, for Christ’s sake!” came from every side. From the trenches there went up a chorus of the same heartrending appeals. So long as we were alive we could not remain deaf to the pleadings of our comrades.
Fifty of us went out to do the work of rescue. Never before had I worked in such harrowing, blood-curdling circumstances. One man was wounded in the neck or face, and I had to grip him under the arms and drag his body through the mud. Another had his side torn by a shell, and it required many difficult manœuvres before I could extricate him. Several sank so deep that my own strength was not sufficient to drag them out.
Finally I broke down, just as I reached my trench with a burden. I was so exhausted that all my bones were aching. The soldiers got some drinking water, a very hard thing to get, and made some tea for me. Somehow they obtained for me a dry overcoat and put me to sleep in a sheltered corner. I slept about four hours, and then resumed my search for wounded comrades.