Dust and Smoke

Rysiek adjusted his helmet, which had slipped over his eyes. A nearby explosion showered him with clods of earth. A large cabinet fell beside him.

"Oh, damn! If that landed on my head, I'd have a real headache!" he thought.

Mortar shell explosions covered the entire street in front of him. The house to his right suddenly groaned and collapsed. A larger-caliber shell hit it. The explosions drowned out the machine gun fire, but Rysiek knew that when the order to advance came, they would speak again. A nearby explosion lifted him and slammed him to the ground. The shell detonated just in front of the barricade they were hiding behind. He raised his head, which he had previously cradled in his arms. To his surprise, everyone was there. No one was even wounded. The soldiers were shocked and disgusted, but still unharmed. Staszek Matusiak sprawled next to him. Rysiek glanced at his younger friend. In the company, they called him "Dzidźka." He clutched his PPS and nervously glanced around. Further behind him, on the recently captured barricade, the rest of the 3rd Company was spread out. A company that, after two days of fighting, had shrunk to the size of a platoon. Behind Dzidźka lay Maciek Walszkiewicz, and behind him still more, Corporal Micuga, Micuga's first private an hour ago. Huddled further back was Jan Tebiński, nicknamed "Kulka" (Ball) because of his short vertical size, combined with his considerable horizontal size. He kept his hand on the barrel of his Deghetariev, making sure no sand fell into the barrel.

The mortar fire ended abruptly, and they were struck by a sudden silence, only occasionally interrupted by distant bursts and the sounds of artillery explosions. From behind, the only officer remaining in the 3rd Company, Second Lieutenant Łażuk, approached in a low crouch. No one even thought of smiling at the sight of the crouched officer stealthily approaching them. An upright posture was fine on parade, but here, in this hellish city, it was a plea for a quick and violent death. Łażuk reached them.

"In five minutes, our men will start pounding at the end of the street. I specifically asked them to take care of that damned butcher." The second lieutenant was referring to the butcher's shop, which had been turned into a fortress. In the basement windows were machine gun emplacements, which had already forced them to retreat twice.

"Then our '.34s' will arrive from Katowicka Street," he added, pointing. "We'll cover them. They'll help us cross this damned street."

The soldiers exchanged significant glances. The last three days had turned the survivors into veterans. Now, doubt was evident on their faces. Łażuk saw this clearly. He was too young and too inexperienced, but there was no one who could replace him. He looked seriously at the faces of his soldiers, then retreated to the tenement house twenty meters away to receive any new orders. Rysiek adjusted his helmet, which had slipped over his eyes again. He met Corporal Micugi's mocking gaze.

"Hey, Ryszek, you'll get a potty over your eyes and you'll bash some German in the head instead of vaccinating him," Micuga laughed at him. The corporal had been lisping and slurring his words since yesterday, when he took a rifle butt to the face from a German during the assault on another building. Corporal Pitroszek had also fallen then, and Micuga had been promoted. Staszek Pitroszek wasn't lucky; he died after the building was already taken. He stood on the roof after they'd shot the last German and took a sniper bullet right in the middle of his forehead. And Micuga took a rifle butt on the stairs while climbing the next floor. It crunched, and his teeth fell out. Someone shot the German who hit Micuga on the stairs with his rifle butt, and that was it. They thought the corporal wouldn't get up, but he got up and staggered down the stairs to look for a medic. That evening, while resting after the assault, the company was joking that Micuga "had already earned so many blows at village parties that a knock like that doesn't faze him." The man himself only grimaced strangely, probably trying to smile. Other sarcastic commentators added that it would be better if the corporal got rich now, "because with a face like that, there's no chance any girl would even look at him."

Rysiek only smiled weakly, fear beginning to grip his stomach. He merely brushed off the corner of his military coat. He wanted to say something forceful, but he couldn't, as the clatter of tracks and the rumbling of tank engines echoed from the direction of Katowicka Street. Then silence fell. Łażuk scurried up to them.

"Get ready!" he said curtly. They rose slightly and checked their weapons. Two heavy machine gunners crouched behind them, dragging their Maxim. A third joined them, carrying boxes of ammunition. Rysiek knew him. He smiled faintly at him. The man met his gaze, smiled back, and nodded slightly. The first shell flew overhead, exploding in the middle of the street. More followed. Heavy 152mm shells rained down heavily at the end of the street. Houses collapsed one after another. One shell struck a butcher directly. More explosions blanketed the street, smoke billowing high. This lasted for about ten minutes, then red signal rockets rose into the sky. Before the last shells had finished their murderous chant, tank engines roared, and the first steel monster crawled out of Katowicka Street.

"Forward!" the second lieutenant shouted after them. They rose and crossed the barricade. When they were on the other side, the second 34th tank pulled out of Katowicka Street and positioned itself behind the first, its hatches tightly sealed. Like a steel dragon, the tank rolled down Piotrkowska Street, bringing death and destruction. They covered the tanks on both sides of the street, sneaking under the walls of buildings. When the smoke ahead finally cleared, Rysiek noticed that where the butcher had stood, there was only a pile of rubble.

Katowicka Street led to Wiltzer Square, their objective. Rysiek thought he would succeed this time.

"The artillery has cleared the way for us," he thought. He was wrong.

The leading T-34 slowly crept into the square. The rubble at the end of the street slowed the already slow advance. The square was silent. The moment the second T-34 entered, following the first, the square came alive. The previously silent machine guns suddenly opened fire on them from the front and right. The infantrymen instantly fell to the ground, but for some it was too late; they fell to the ground already dead. Rysiek saw a bullet pierce Matusiak's steel helmet, and he slowly fell to his knees. Thick blood flowed from under the helmet and covered his face. "Dzidźka" collapsed to the cobblestones, never to rise again. The tanks slowly turned their turrets toward the department store,

from where the fiercest fire was coming from. The tank in front fired a single shot. A shell exploded in front of a department store, tearing a hole in the road. A moment later, the machine exploded in a huge cloud of flame. Rysiek, hiding in a crater, looked to his left and spotted two Germans in distinctive paratrooper helmets reloading a Panzerschreck. He raised his rifle to fire, took aim, and fired, but he was too late. The Germans managed to aim and fire. The rocket sped toward the second T-34, striking it in the sloped side of the armor on the vehicle's side. For a moment, nothing happened, then flames burst from the hatches. Tankmen began jumping out. Their suits were on fire. They screamed inhumanly, burning alive. The stench of burning flesh choked him; Rysiek fired again, but the paratroopers had already disappeared into a nearby building. Instead, the barrel of an MG42 leaned out of a tenement window and spat flame at them. Rysiek managed to fire a shot at the window, but immediately had to duck into the crater as the machine gun barrel swung toward him; bullets began whistling over the crater. He distracted the Germans for a moment, allowing the heavy machine gunners to set their maximum speed and open fire. Long bursts of fire blanketed the windows of the tenement house. Rysiek heard a scream, which turned into a shriek. The rest of the company hid behind destroyed tanks and in the craters. Smoke from the burning tanks obscured them from the enemy's view from the front and right. However, the Germans were shooting thick fire into the smoke, so anyone who rose was in danger of a stray bullet. Łażuk quickly jumped into the crater where Rysiek was. Behind Łażuk jumped a telephone operator, carrying a heavy drum of telephone cable on his back. The heavy machine gun continued to bang on the windows to the left. The second lieutenant grabbed Rysiek's arm.

"You'll go with Tebiński and Micuga and clear out that house on the left," he said, pointing to the tenement building where the paratroopers with the Panzerschreck had disappeared earlier.

"Three of us?" he asked, adjusting his helmet, which had slipped back over his eyes.

"Three of us," Łażuk replied, looking at him coldly. "Kulka" and Micuga jumped into the crater. Their expressions were grim.

"Well, let's go," Tebiński said, and was the first to jump out of the shell hole, sprinting for the nearest gate. They chased after him. Behind them, they heard Łażuk informing battalion command by phone about the loss of the tanks and their own position. They stopped at the gate, breathing heavily. They heard silence as the Maxim's bursts suddenly stopped. Apparently, the crew had had to reload. Immediately they heard dry rifle fire

and longer bursts of submachine guns, which the Germans immediately laid siege to the Poles, taking advantage of the Maxim's stoppage of fire through the windows. The concert of gunfire was joined by the explosion of a hand grenade, answered by the sounds of Mosin rifles firing and bursts of PPEs, and the whole thing was drowned out again by a long burst from the Maxim. Making their way through the ruined rooms and hallways, they reached the wall behind which stood the house from which the enemy had been shelling the Poles in Wiltzer Square. The wall was strong, and they had no explosives capable of blowing a hole in the thick wall. For a moment, they wandered around the room uncertainly. Rysiek tried to approach the window, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Rych, have you lost your mind? Do you want our guys to blow that stupid head off?" "Ball" asked him, holding his arm. Rysiek simply shook his head and adjusted his helmet, which had slipped down over his eyes again. Tebiński looked at him with the gentle, brown eyes of a Kresy peasant and shook his head in a gesture that meant, "God, what a kid."

"Come here!" Micuga called to them. The kitchen window overlooked a small courtyard, which provided a way to get to the tenement house next door. Slowly and carefully, they crossed the yard and entered the building where the Germans were stationed through a basement window. "Kulka" was briefly stuck in the window, but with a concerted effort, he was pushed inside. A quick escape through that basement opening was out of the question, however, which made them even more determined to get this done as quickly as possible. They emerged from the basement via creaking stairs; every sound sent shivers down their spines.

"What if they hear it and are already waiting for us?" Rysiek thought. His throat went dry. Micuga slowly opened the door; it gave way with a screech of rusty hinges. No one was waiting to shoot them in the face. They emerged into the corridor leading to the rooms. The corporal stood by the door, behind which voices in German could be heard. He crouched and peered through the keyhole. He gestured to them that he saw five soldiers in the room. "Kulka" moved the Degetaryev and aimed it directly at the door. Micuga motioned for him to wait. He moved to the next door and listened for a moment. He made a three-fingered sign, representing three men. Then he motioned Rysiek to come forward. He pointed to a grenade and ordered him to throw it into the room on signal. They stood at the ready. As the Maxim's bursts died down outside, sounds of sudden movement echoed through the rooms; the enemy rushed to the windows to resume firing at the Poles in the square. The corporal had been waiting for this moment. He gave a sharp signal and opened the door for Tebiński, who unleashed a long burst across the room, instantly dispatching the enemy inside. One of them, thrown back by the bullets that tore at his body, flew through the window and onto the pavement. Rysiek had been waiting for a long time with the safety catch on his grenade. Now, at the signal, he opened the door a crack and tossed the heavy egg inside. A cry of terror came from inside, drowned by the explosion. Smoke billowed into the corridor. Someone was screaming in agony. Rysiek cautiously peered inside. Three soldiers manning the MG42 were lying on the floor. One was still alive. Blood was leaking from a limb severed above the knee, and a large hole in his abdomen revealed his entrails. The wounded man roared frantically, but it was clear he was dying. Rysiek paled and retreated into the corridor, just in time to collide with someone. Before he knew it, the paratrooper gave him a powerful shove and aimed his gun at him. He didn't have time to fire. With a powerful blow from the butt of the gun, "Kulka" hit the German square in the face, and he let out a cry of pain. Tebiński corrected him and silenced him forever. He wiped the blood and brain debris from the butt on the man's uniform. He looked at Rysiek, smiled faintly, and offered him his hand. From the room next to Micuga, a burst of fire roared through the window:

"The cyst building!" he replied, aiming it directly at the window.

"Don't aim, damn it!" he roared again, lying by the window, just in case.

"Is that you, Micuga? Good job!" they heard Łażuk's voice.

At that moment, a heavy artillery shell struck the tenement house. The house shook to its foundations, groaned slowly, and then half the front of the house collapsed with a loud crash onto the square.

Rysiek woke up after a moment. Choking and coughing, he got up from the floor. He couldn't see anything. Dust was everywhere. Something moved behind him; he turned almost blindly and saw the faint outline of "Ball" clumsily scrambling from the floor. He was covered in dust. He looked as if he'd fallen into a sack of flour. Rysiek looked at his hands—they were white too. He realized that he, too, was white with dust. He helped Tebiński up. His head was pounding, and he could barely hear. They staggered into the next room. The corporal lay on the floor, crushed by a large wardrobe. He groaned softly. They helped him out from under the wardrobe and the furs and coats that had spilled out. Micugi, too, was affected by the whitening of the ceiling and walls. The bright red blood that was pouring from his mouth was a terrible contrast to the whiteness of his face. The corporal was having trouble breathing. They struggled to get out of the ruined tenement building. The shooting stopped momentarily. When they reached the crater, two medics placed Micuga on a stretcher and rushed with him to the rear. Rysiek couldn't see Łażuk anywhere.

"Where's the lieutenant?" he asked the operator. The operator grimly pointed to the crater next to him. Second Lieutenant Łażuk lay there on his back in a pool of blood. When they leaned over him, he only looked at them.

"The shelling will start in 10 minutes," he rasped heavily. "Tebiński, you will take command. You must capture the rest of the square. You must..." He didn't finish, his breath failing him. He died with a sigh. "Kulka" looked at him and, without saying a word, simply nodded in understanding.

Rysiek sat down heavily at the bottom of the crater. Tebiński sat down next to him; He looked ahead at the German positions, which were burning and shrouded in smoke. Then he glanced at Rysiek and then at himself. Rysiek adjusted his helmet, which had slipped over his eyes. Tebiński, neither to himself nor to the rest of the world, muttered,

"We are dust, we will go into smoke."