Anything worth shooting is worth shooting twice. Bullets are cheap. Life is priceless.
Karl Chromik (Germany, 1942), from The Eyes Of War
-“”Everything suddenly went black. I didn’t have any pain but felt something on my chest. I heard a friend say, ‘Karl’s not going to make it’. I had a vision. I was sitting on a cloud and floating upwards. I heard harp music and saw stars and a gate. Then it disappeared and I came round. I’d been in a coma for ten weeks. All this happened on my birthday, on 28 November 1942, somewhere between the Don and Stalingrad. We wanted to move on but the Russians had surrounded us. I was badly wounded and blinded by fragments. I don’t know what they were.”