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Dear Brother!

Only now I've found a free moment to write you a letter. I'll describe my impressions from the road. How and what is happening with us you obviously know, and in connection with that we're advancing westward. We're moving along one railroad and a highway leading west. And all living concentrates around these same roads. There was some population around the local stations before the war, now there's no one left. Since Germans, and not Finns, are in front of us, we're advancing with combat against the German 20th Army. It's obvious that the Germans are trying to mess everything up as much as possible. With purely German precision the rails are blown up in checkered order every 10-15 meters. All sorts of bridges, telegraph poles, highways, houses, everything is blown up. Overall, it's a cheerless picture. Wires hanging from leaning poles, cinders in place of stations and villages, burned woods. But what is most unpleasant of all, what literally terrorizes everyone, is mines. Mines are everywhere and all over roads and trails, on the roadsides and under bridges, in the houses and in the streets. There aren't enough sappers, and it's impossible to search everything anyway. There are a lot of tempting things left in the houses, but it's scary to touch anything, but you know what kind of people soldiers are - "Damn all," - and grab stuff. We also found some grub for us signalers. Yesterday I found several cans of sprats in some house, with Norwegian labels. Nice stuff. By the way, the paper I'm writing on is also a trophy, there is a lot of it here.

Last night I almost paid with my life. A phone stopped working at my station, I went to check the line, walked around for a while, and found a break. The next day I went back for some reason and in the place where I stood, literally 30 cm, the sappers found a mine. I immediately got goose bumps. That was unpleasant. The Germans set infernal machines with a delay of several days. Today one acquaintance told me: They went to sleep in a house, he woke up during the night, lit a cigarette, just as he lied down again, he heard ticking of a clock. He started listening carefully - that's it. Immediately he was covered in cold sweat. You know - sleeping on an infernal machine is ... unpleasant. All the time, here or there, houses explode. Recently a huge warehouse exploded, left by the Germans and completely untouched.

There are a lot of prisoners. Yesterday I talked to one. He explained - "we're supposed to go home according to a treaty, but the 'Rus' don't let us." In most cases they are severely frightened, they are very afraid of Russian prison. One corporal said that the soldiers prefer death to surrender. They were really brainwashed, this scum, even if they look like good men.

My girls toil at the station. I have to do everything almost on my own. You know, they are inexperienced, don't know anything yet. Sometimes it's enough to make me cry, but what can you do? I'm waiting for better times.

I'm wrapping up for now. You see by my handwriting that I'm in a hurry. I am not receiving your letters and probably will not for a long time because I am far from my unit. I'm attached to one direction, but you keep writing. Sooner or later I'll get them. Bye. Your brother. Yu.K.

Say "hi" to Zoya. How is she?

23.9.44 (Sept 23, 1944)

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