However, having drawn up to the command post, they poured shell after shell into it. We hid in the bunker, relying upon its strong cover. However,“The Hut,” as Gruzdev had named the bunker with some irony, couldn’t take the punishment and collapsed. The fatal blow tossed us in every direction and crushed us under the ruins – a few men fatally, a few more were badly hurt, and others received a concussion.
Sitting on or standing by our bunks listening to the hammering of guns outside didn’t make things any easier for us. If there was anybody in that compartment that hadn’t prayed in earnest before, like myself, for one, they prayed now. It was the most helpless feeling I’d ever experienced, and as it turned out, the only time I felt this way throughout the campaign.