Years later, now a general, Arkhipenko wrote:
In reality, in this extremely difficult situation there was no leadership at the airfield. I, the duty officer Junior Lieutenant Fedor Arkhipenko, incompetently attempted to organize sporadic individual sorties and evacuate damaged planes. Communications were cut, there were no directions or orders; only the internal telephone lines, laid towards the squadron’s parking area, miraculously survived.22
Around 1100 hours another regiment of I-153s landed at his airfield, flying in from deeper in the district. Even though there were plenty of officers senior to Arkhipenko in the newly arrived regiment, none of them assisted him in running the airfield. Arkhipenko thought that they were from Zhitomir; however, since the only air regiment based directly in Zhitomir was the 315th Reconnaissance Regiment, this unit was most likely from the 44th Air Division in Vinnitsa-Uman area.
To Arkhipenko’s immense relief, deputy commander of the 14th Mixed Air Division, Maj. Gen. I. A. Lakeyev, arrived around 1300 hours. The experienced flier, veteran of wars in Spain and Finland, took over command of the airfield. Arkhipenko’s plane was still undamaged, and he requested Lakeyev to permit him to scramble. However, the general did not let him go—the junior lieutenant was the general’s whole staff. The regimental command post was now manned by a general, a junior lieutenant, and two privates from communications section.
When Germans attacked the airfield for the third time, a scratch flight of three Soviet fighters were taxiing on the runway. None of them made it into the air.
Around 1400 hours, 17th Fighter Regiment’s commander, Major Dervyanov, finally arrived, and Arkhipenko was allowed to leave the command post. [Why did it take regimental commander ten hours to get to his headquarters, less than twenty miles away from his residence in Kovel?] Arkhipenko’s plane was still intact, being camouflaged at the edge of the cemetery. He took off by himself, without waiting for orders. At the same time, a flight of fighters from Vinnitsa Regiment was also taking off, and they almost collided in midair. Arkihpenko tucked in behind them. This demonstrates that despite the presence of at least one regimental commander and a general at the airfield, flight operations were still not organized or monitored.
In his memoirs, Arkhipenko remembered that they first flew together north to Brest and then along the border south to Rava-Russkaya. Again, why had they flown so far out of their area of operation, all the way to Brest? Did they have specific instructions, or did they get lost? Arkhipenko does not clarify this detail. He recalled that the whole border looked aflame, as if the very earth itself was burning. West of Vladimir-Volynskiy, they were fired upon by German antiaircraft artillery, and Arkhipenko developed a severe distaste for flack.
After the other three fighters dove into the clouds to escape fire, he broke off and flew east. Soon, Arkhipenko encountered another solo Soviet aircraft like his, and they flew together to Velitsk. They landed among the nightmarish landscape of burning aircraft, collapsed buildings, mangled bodies of the dead, and screaming wounded.
Arkhipenko’s first combat sortie is another vivid example of confusion into which the Soviet Air Force was thrown: a flight of fighters manages to get into the air without instructions from any controller; seemingly aimlessly flying in and out their area of operations, and returning without engaging the enemy.
Despite an undoubtedly severely damaging first strike, numbers of Soviet fighters managed to get into the air, especially from the airfields located deeper in the Soviet territory. Upon return, many of them increasingly found their airfields damaged and more aircraft put out of action in consecutive attacks. Russian historian A. V. Isayev writes: “Destruction of significant part of the aircraft park of KSMD [Kiev Special Military District] on the airfields was only a matter of time. If the decisive success was not achieved during the first strike, the German pilots succeeded during second, third, and sometimes, tenth strike.”23
Soviet reinforcements flying in from deeper in Ukraine were forced to land on the airfields already known to and damaged by the Germans. The already mentioned 17th Fighter Regiment based at the Velitsk airfield was finished off on the third day of war:
In the morning of the third day, a dozen Me-109 fighters arrived. They formed two circles: six aircraft turning right and six—to the left, and began diving as if on exercises. They shot true, confident, as if at [practice] targets. As the result, there were ten combat-capable I-153 and one MiG-1 remaining, the rest of aircraft, numbering around 150—were damaged. They included . . . aircraft from Zhitomir Regiment [reinforcements].24
Since a majority of Kiev Special Military District’s fighter regiments, fifteen out of seventeen, were assigned to forward armies, a majority of them were destroyed in the first few days of war, virtually ceding the skies over the border region to the Germans.
The Soviet aircraft that did manage to get airborne were immediately outnumbered by German Bf 109 fighters from Jagdgeschwader 3 under Maj. Gunther Lutzow. OberLieutnant Robert Olenik from the 1st Squadron of this wing scored their first air victory at 0430 hours, shooting down a Soviet I-16 fighter.
German aircraft of the Luftflotte 4 were still to meet large numbers of Soviet aircraft. Further east, aircraft of Soviet 17th, 19th, and 44th Air Divisions began moving closer to the border. Despite definitely gaining initiative, the German Air Force did not achieve complete air domination in western Ukraine, as it did in Byelorussia in the area of operations of Western Special Military District. Already on the very first day of the war, despite terrible odds, the 62nd Air Division of the Fifth Army was attacking advancing German units in the area of Ustilug, dropping 134 50-kilogram bombs.25
In the above-mentioned action in the afternoon of June 22, aircraft from 17th and 89th Fighter regiments escorted bombers from 62nd Bomber Division. While they were away, Germans visited their home airfields, destroying thirty-six fighter planes and seven bombers. Another Soviet joint fighter/bomber attack by thirty-six bombers supported by fighters was carried out at 1840 in the same area. This mission cost dearly: fourteen bombers were lost to German fighters.26
Despite individual bravery demonstrated by Soviet fliers, their efforts initially came largely to naught due to lack of cohesive actions and coordination. Senior air force leadership was out of touch with its subordinate elements from the very first moments of the invasion. Accompanying the rest of Kiev Special Military District headquarters personnel, General Ptukhin and his Air Force staff were also on the move to Tarnopol at the start of the invasion. Ptukhin’s detachment started off in Bagramyan’s wheeled column in the morning of June 21. Until they set up shop in Tarnopol, Ptukhin left a small detachment in Kiev, under his deputy chief of staff, Major General Maltsev, along with a small group of staff officers and several cipher clerks. This follow-on element was to maintain communications with all the airfields in Kiev Special Military District until the main air force command post in Tarnopol would be set up.27
While Ptukhin’s staff was frantically working on setting up their new command post, air units around Tarnopol were taking severe beating. Then-Colonel Nikolay S. Skripko related description of events at the nearby Buchach airfield, related to him by then-Major I. S. Suldin, commander of the 87th Fighter Regiment belonging to the 44th Mixed Air Division of the Sixth Army.
Even though normally a majority of married pilots and staff went to their families on Saturdays, on this particular weekend, division commander, most likely arriving at correct analysis, did not permit anyone to leave their units. The 87th Fighter Regiment had the following combat-capable aircraft: sixty older I-16 fighters and four new MiG-3s. Ten other I-16s were to be transferred to the 36th Air Division the next day, and pilots from that unit were also at the airfield.
Skripko writes:
A telegram was received from division [headquarters] . . . at 0430 [hours]: “According to reports, German aviation is bombing border towns of Peremyshl, Rava-Russkaya, and others. Bring the regiment to combat readiness.” The duty officer, squadron
commander Senior Lieutenant P. A. Mikhailyuk, sounded alarm. Pilots, engineers, technicians, and maintenance crews took their places near the fighters. . . . The pilots from the 36th Air Division took places at their just-received ten planes and started up their engines. It seemed that combat readiness was full. But a serious mistake was made, for which many were made to suffer. Approximately at 0450 hours, barely visible in the raising sun, a two-engine bomber was spotted approaching from the east. Everybody thought that the division commander was coming to check on regiment’s readiness. But that was a German Ju-88 bomber. On a strafing run, he attacked the planes lined up in a row. Seeing the crosses on the bomber, the soldiers around the airfield opened rifle fire on him. But it was too late. The German plane accurately dropped small fragmentation bombs and fired machine guns at the personnel: out of ten lined-up aircraft, seven completely burned down, two pilots sitting in the cockpits were killed, and two maintenance crewmen were wounded.28
Even though Bagramyan’s column managed to get to Tarnopol on time, at least according to Bagramyan’s claims, Ptukhin and his staff fell behind and only made it to Tarnopol around 1400 hours on June 22. This meant that for almost ten crucial hours, the commander of the Air Force of Kiev Special Military District was isolated on the road and out of touch with his command [emphasis added].29
Finally arriving in Tarnopol, Ptukhin and his staff managed to establish communications only with the 14th, 16th, and 17th Air divisions and with Kiev staff. Contact with the other units was possible only by routing communications through the Kiev headquarters. Back in Kiev, General Maltsev’s group served as a clearing-house between Tarnopol and those air force units that could be reached.
An unforeseen crucial situation developed at this juncture. The small air force staff element in Kiev strictly adhered to protocol of only sending encoded messages. However, the few cipher clerks left behind in Kiev with Maltsev could not possibly handle the sudden avalanche of reports that needed processing. Nobody could have foreseen that the invasion would catch Ptukhin’s element in transit to the new headquarters. There was simply no visible need at the time to leave more cipher clerks with Maltsev.
Now the reports began to bottleneck in Kiev. Received information needed to be decoded, evaluated, and disposition decided. Outgoing reports needed to be encoded and transmitted. Maltsev’s small group was not equipped or staffed to cope with their sudden task during the most crucial hours of the invasion and became overwhelmed by the avalanche of communiqués. Only by evening of June 22 was Ptukhin able to somewhat sort things out and ascertain damages inflicted upon his command.
Ptukhin and Maltsev paid the steep price for all oversights, real or imagined. They were relieved of command the following week and shot a month later.
The convoy, in which General Ptukhin started out his trip from Kiev, was constantly suffering mechanical breakdowns. Colonel Ivan Kh. Bagramyan, in charge of the convoy, was becoming concerned that this unplanned loss of time would delay their scheduled arrival in Tarnopol by seven hours. Still, he prudently instituted periodic ten-minute stops to inspect the vehicles and do minor preventive maintenance.
At daybreak, when his convoy was halted just north of Brody, Bagramyan heard an increasing howl of aircraft engines overhead. “Our pilots starting their day a bit early,” Bagramyan thought.30 Soon, shattering explosions and oily clouds of fire rising above Brody made the situation brutally clear. War!
They raced through the waking town and made it the remaining forty miles to Tarnopol. On their way they were strafed by German aircraft once, causing several light casualties. More vehicles broke down, and Bagramyan decided to abandon them on the road, leaving their drivers to do their best to fix the vehicles and rejoin the headquarters. It is unknown but possible that General Ptukhin’s delayed arrival in Tarnopol was caused by such breakdown. Still, in spite of all delays, the mad dash from Brody allowed Bagramyan to make up lost time, even arriving in Tarnopol slightly ahead of schedule.
As Bagramyan’s column rolled up to the new location of Kiev Special Military District’s headquarters, he was expected. The front door flew open, and worried Major General Purkayev, Bagramyan’s boss, ran down the steps. Interrupting Bagramyan’s salutation, Purkayev ordered: “Unload quickly and get to work! Use all communication channels to alert commanders of the second-echelon corps to implement plan KOVO-41! Insist on confirmation of orders and report them to me!”31
Purkayev was followed by Col. Gen. Mikhail P. Kirponos himself. Bagramyan was taken aback when Kirponos began loudly and angrily lambasting him for arriving late. “Things must have gone really badly,” Bagramyan thought, watching red-faced district commander who normally was very calm and collected. The colonel attempted to explain that he actually arrived before schedule, and it calmed Kirponos down a bit. He stomped off, ordering Bagramyan to be ready with a situation report in an hour. Kirponos’ unfortunate tendency to lose his head under pressure was remarked upon by other memoir writers as well.
Bagramyan rushed to find General Dobrykin, Kiev Special Military District’s chief of communications, whom he found huddled with several junior officers. The telephone lines, routed mainly through civilian exchanges, were constantly suffering breakdowns. While communications with Moscow were relatively reliable, connections with the armies at the border were tentative at best.
As in all other border districts, district-level signal units were supposed to be activated upon mobilization and their equipment was largely to come from the civilian sector. The sudden German attack caught Kirponos without vital communications means and personnel, immediately handicapping his ability to keep in touch with his units.
Dobrykin brought Bagramyan up to speed. Communications with the Twelfth and Twenty-Sixth armies were reliable. The Twelfth Army reported that the border with Hungary was quiet. The Twenty-Sixth Army reported some fighting along its front, but situation stable overall. However, there was virtually no contact with Fifth or Sixth armies. As the sketchy and disjointed reports began coming in, it appeared that the main German attack fell on these two armies.
Chief of Intelligence Colonel Bondarev had very little to add: Germans crossed the Western Bug River on the far right, several small border towns were captured, and Germans were conducting major artillery and air strikes in the areas of Ustilug and Vladimir-Volynskiy. However, there was absolutely no reliable information about German strength or composition. At this point, only several small units moved forward and engaged the invaders.
After listening to Bagramyan’s meager report, Kirponos flew into a rage at the lack of communications. General Purkayev interceded on behalf of his subordinate, informing Kirponos that efforts at reestablishing and maintaining communications were given top priority and liaison officers had been dispatched by planes to all army headquarters.32
Reports continued slowly trickling in. Around 1030 hours came the first radio report from Fifth Army: “Sokal and Tartakov on fire. The 124th Rifle Division could not fight through to the border and took up defensive positions north of Strumilov Fortified District.”33
In midafternoon, telegram from Timoshenko in Moscow arrived:
On June 22, 1941, at 0400 hours German aviation without any provocation attacked our airfields and cities along the border and subjected them to bombardment. Simultaneously, German forces opened artillery fire along many points and crossed our border. Due to this brazen attack by Germany upon the Soviet Union, I order:
1. Our troops to use all force and means to attack enemy forces and destroy them in the areas where they violated Soviet border. Our ground forces are not to cross the border without specific orders to do so.
2. Reconnaissance and combat aviation is to identify areas of concentration of enemy ground and air forces. [German] main concentrations of ground forces are to be bombed and [their] aviation destroyed on their airfields by mighty blows of our bomber aviation. Air attacks are to be carried out to the depth of 100–150 km [sixty to ninety-two miles] of German territory. Koe
nigsberg and Memel are to be bombed. Territories of Finland and Rumania are not to be attacked without special orders.
The staff of Kiev Special Military District was supposed to send its first situation report to Moscow at 1500 hours. Bagramyan later wrote in his memoirs that this document was the most difficult one he had to prepare in his career as staff officer.
The picture still remained unclear: What was the real situation of the armies? Where was the main push by the enemy? What are his intentions?—we could only guess about these things. And our first combat report to Moscow was full of generalities and unclarities. Because of this, although guiltless, my aides and I could not but feel ourselves guilty.34
From fragmentary data coming in, by evening of 22nd of June the picture began clearing up: the main thrust was in the areas of Ustilug and Sokal at the junction of Fifth and Sixth Armies. The main invasion axis was directed towards Lutsk and Dubno. At the same time, there was heavy fighting in the sectors of Sixth and Twenty-Sixth Armies, especially around Rava-Russka and Peremyshl.
General Kirponos was informed that enemy tanks were rushing for Radekhov. These were the leading elements of the 11th Panzer Division, which was moving through defensive lines of the 124th Rifle Division. Still not knowing the exact strength of German units advancing on Radekhov, Kirponos ordered the main body of XV Mechanized Corps to be moved there to meet the developing threat. Its 10th Tank division was approximately forty miles from Radekhov. Who would get there first? Kirponos and his staff were well aware that even if the 10th Tank Division could reach Radekhov ahead of Germans, the XV Mechanized Corps overall would still enter the fight piecemeal.
Major General Ignatiy I. Karpezo, commander of the XV Mechanized Corps, soon reported that his 10th Tank Division had already set off, but only four tank battalions of the 37th Tank Division were on the move. His 212th Motorized Rifle Division was marching on foot due to lack of wheeled transport. The corps signal and combat engineer battalions and the motorcycle regiment could not move at all—no transport. Karpezo was urgently requesting transportation.
The Bloody Triangle Page 12