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Saturday, 28 January 2017

October 1944 to March 1945 (4)

Whilst working with the field kitchen, on one of my soup run days, I was heading towards a remote house.  It stood alone in its own field with very little ground cover.  As I approached, I was convinced I had seen movement at the front.  Although I was not one hundred percent sure, I thought it wise not to take the risk and decided to go down the side so I could enter from the rear.  If there were Russian troops at the front, the rear of the house was a lot more attractive.

As I got neared to the house, all of the soldiers inside began waving wildly from the windows and doors.  At first, I thought they were just pleased to see me but then I understood their shouts.  They were trying to warn me, they were telling me off for coming from the rear. 
“Why are you coming that way?”  They reprimanded.  “You are crazy.  You are in a mine field!” 

I had to take the horse and cart back the same way through the field.  I was the most nervous I had ever been.  It was nerve racking retracing my steps, as well as difficult.  Knowing that putting my feet down just a few inches further to the left or to the right could mean a horrible death really focused my attention.  Have you ever tried to back up a horse?   It is not the easiest of things to do but it was import for me to deliver the soup.  I knew how hungry those men were.  In the past, I was the one waiting days for something warm and filling.





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