"You are not wounded, you are just killed ..."

Poems of tanker, guard of Lieutenant Jonah Degen (1925–2017), after the war, who became a doctor of medical sciences, researcher in the field of orthopedics and traumatology:

At the front you can’t go crazy,
Without learning to forget right away.
We raked out of the lined tanks
Everything that you can bury in the grave.

The brigade commander rested his chin on the tunic.
I hid tears. Enough. Stop.
And in the evening the driver taught me
How Paspan is dancing correctly.

Summer 1944

Random raid on enemy rear.
Just the tank decided the fate of the battle.
But the orders will not get us.
Thank you, at least no less than oblivion.

For our random crazy battle
Recognize the brilliant commander.
But the main thing is that we survived with you.
And true - what? After all, this is how it is conducted.

September 1944

When from the tank, death outwitted,
You will jump out of plague for a moment before the explosion,
Well, that's it, you decide, - from now on I will be alive
In the infantry, safely happy.

And only when you come to your senses quite
The truth will affect you:
Infantry is also bad in the war.
The infantry is also killed.

November 1944

My comrade, in the deadly agony
Do not call friends in vain.
Give me better warming my palms I
Above your smoking blood.

You don't cry, do not moan, you are not small,
You are not wounded, you are just killed.
Let me take off your felt boots as a keepsake.
We still have to advance.

December 1944