covered in blood. Elisha took one glance at the wounded man and threw his rifle away. He refused to take one step more. It took a whole canteen of water, which we poured over his head, in his mouth, nose, and ears, to bring him to his senses and get him to walk on.

And so, when David, the deputy company commander, told us that we were getting a PIAT and that Elisha would be the "Number One PIAT operator," we took it as a good joke. Elisha of ah people ...

The PIAT is a weapon with a very short range. To fire it effectively, you have to get very close to the enemy - whether tank, building, or defensive emplacement. For that you need bravery and ingenuity. And apart from that the PIAT weights thirty-five pounds. More than a two-inch mortar. Could anyone imagine Elisha with such a weight on one of our forced marches? Elisha, who whines and complains if he has to carry a five hundred round reserve for the machine gun?

But an order is an order, there’s nothing to be done. And with all the joking none of us noticed that Elisha was not complaining, didn’t see himself hard done by, and didn’t even ask why it had to be him ...

After a while we couldn’t overlook it any more - something had happened to Elisha. He complained less and less. Sometimes a whole meal would pass without the slightest murmur from him. One could almost believe that he was content with our commanders. And when we, for the third night in succession, were due to go for a pointless march of twenty kilometers, and even the strongest fellows were showing signs of insubordination - Elisha shouldered his PIAT with-out a word and got ready.

A strange relationship developed between Elisha and his PIAT. He treated his weapon like a young and pretty woman. After a tiring night march, when the rest of us were already in our beds snoring, he would kneel on the ground, take the weapon apart, clean it, and oil it, and put it tenderly back together again.

And woe to anyone who dared to insult the honor of this weapon. According to Elisha, the PIAT was the best of all weapons, superior to any artillery piece and even to aircraft. And with a few more PIATs the war would been won long ago.

In that night when we assaulted that damned fortress, Elisha and his PIAT were in the first wave. Or more correctly: Elisha ran in front of the others. The bullets whistling around him did not concern him. He probably didn’t even notice them. He had only one thought in his

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