The hour approached.
We knew: the trains—and not only military ones—run on time. The Germans are devoted to precision. We’ve learned from experience that a German patrol is unlike a Ukrainian patrol. The Germans are ready to fight with clenched teeth and fierce determination.
And the train did indeed arrive. This time, too, the explosives did their job; the locomotive and front cars were blown off the tracks. But the soldiers guarding the train leaped off and fired their guns in all directions. We attacked them. They cursed us and kept shooting, even as they lay wounded on the ground. Fortunately, there were not many of them, and we finished them off.
Kamil handled the evacuation skillfully. First we moved out the children, then the women and the elderly, and then the men. Salo and Maxie tended to the wounded. We were forced to decide whom we would take and whom we would leave behind.
The retreat into the forest began at once. We split the refugees into three groups. Each of our squads led a group, and we started on our way. The fear that reinforcements would soon arrive and attack us never left us, even when we were deep in the woods.
Reinforcements didn’t arrive, but the winds howled, heavy snow fell, and our progress was slow. The refugees were weak, and we weren’t able to give them even a slice of bread.
Among the rescued was a man who recognized Maxie. A classmate from the university, he embraced Maxie and cried out, “You are angels. We never imagined we would survive.” Maxie, stunned by the encounter, said, “You have nothing to fear; we know the area like the palm of our hand, and soon we will be home.”
The new day began with bright sunshine, and Kamil, carrying a child in his arms, urged us to push on, for we were getting close to the base where we would be with our own. Just us. We have tents, food, and water.