The bombardment continued for some time, sweating artillery crews moving from one set of target coordinates to the next, the used shell casings beginning to litter the earth around their guns. The muzzles flashed as shell after shell swept towards the enemy position, the gunners enveloped in discharged smoke as their artillery pieces bucked backwards, the crews then seeking the next identified map position of Russian defenders.
Before them, engines roared into life, the numerous Tiger Is, Panzer III and IVs jolting forwards as their tracks spun, commanders lowering themselves into their turrets, the hatches slamming shut above them, the drivers following pre-arranged routes through the trees, the steel tracks screeching and whining as they reached the front line. Solemn faced infantry stared at passing darkened hulls, the trenches packed as the soldiers awaited the tanks to form up on the terrain before them, the deep rumble of Maybach engines signifying that the Tigers would lead the advance, the medium tanks covering the flanks as Hanomag armoured carriers followed through the trees.
Medvedev shook his stunned head, cement dust and smoke billowing across the bunker as he wheezed for air, the prone general groaning behind him with the stench of burnt explosives residue and acrid smoke filling their nostrils. More moaning from outside, the shell shocked sentries and entrenched soldiers nearby rolling over in their positions, several with perforated eardrums, the shells now erupting to the rear of their positions.
The general rolled over onto his side, blood dripping from his ears and nose as he winced, a deep shrapnel gash in his back. Medvedev began to struggle towards the senior officer, the ringing in his ears causing him to shout, ‘Comrade General…are you alright? I will get you back to the medical tent…’ He glanced upwards, seeing the cracks across the bunker ceiling, the machine gunners on the roof torn to pieces from direct hits.
The senior commander could not hear him, his voice strained as he gasped for air, ‘The fascists are coming…many of them. Get your men ready…fight them for every inch of ground…’
Leutnant Hausser saluted formally, Major Wolff walking confidently down the line of junior officers, his voice rising with adrenalin, ‘The Panzers are forming up as we speak…follow your orders…several of our units will advance in halftracks with the tanks as support, the reserves will follow on foot, clearing the enemy positions. Once we break through the Russian lines, we will join with the SS units to our east and drive on Kiev…the Russkies are finished here.’ The major turned abruptly on his heels, raising his hand to stare at his wristwatch, ‘It is 0400hrs…time to show the Russkies where to run…’ He stiffened, saluting the officers before him, ‘Join your men gentlemen…mount up…the time has come to defeat the Russian bear once and for all…’
Leutnant Hausser scrambled through the open back doors of the SdKfz 251 Hanomag, nodding to the grim soldiers on either side, Udet manning the forward machine gun and ducked behind the armoured shield. The officer slapped the young German’s back as he slipped past, hearing the doors clunk shut behind as he glanced round, raising an arm to wave at Tatu and Petru in the next carrier and the bearded sergeant in the vehicle beyond, the two Romanians and German returning the gesture. Ducking into the front driver’s compartment, he nudged Hase in the driver’s seat and grinned, ‘Let’s get to our first objective then…follow the Panzer IVs up the slope. We are on the right flank, so let’s not stray too far east…we may end up on our own amongst the Russians, even run into the flank of 11th Panzer Division or our SS tanks.’
Hase nodded, grinning in anticipation, the engine burbling as Hausser stepped back, straightening, his eyes straining in the darkness, glimpsing the hulks of the long barrelled Panzer IVs ahead, their hulls now furnished with additional side skirts and turret armour. The young commander glanced round as another carrier drew between his and Tatu’s, the SdKfz 250 shorter wheel base command vehicle complimented with an upper frame for radio communications, a helmeted Major Wolff standing upright before the front MG34, a wry grin on his face, ‘Time to move Leutnant…we have not got all night, it will be light soon.’ He glanced down, shouting to the occupants of his armoured carrier, ‘Heinrich, radio the Panzers…it’s time for us to advance!’
All across the low terrain, the engines roared, tracks whining as the Panzers ground forward, Wolff laughing aloud as the command carrier lurched after them, the three Hanomag engines roaring as gears were engaged, the cracking and screeching of branches as the armoured vehicles jolted, then edged after their leader.
Behind the armour, infantry of the reserve units slowly trudged forward, several relieved soldiers dropping into the defensive works, their task to strengthen and man the rear lines and to move up when needed.
The Panzer IVs rolled on, grinding up the gradual slope, the whir of electrical turret motors and belching engines resounding across the wave of armour. Dugouts and slit trenches smouldered around them, flames licking around destroyed machine gun positions, acrid smoke sweeping through observation slits and into the tank interiors. Several of the wounded and surviving enemy soldiers were scrambling away, many cut down by forward machine guns or swept under the rolling tracks, their bodies shredded and torn to pieces as the screams were cut short, bones shattering under the immense weight.
Bullets clanked against the exterior plate, sporadic rifle and bursts of machine gun fire sweeping through the darkness, the flashes beginning to light up the night air, sparks bouncing off the Panzer hulls as the turrets turned. The forward and upper machine guns flashing as MG34s opened fire, sweeping the terrain and tearing through the Russian positions. Panzers jolted as their muzzles flashed, smoke billowing outwards as high explosive shells zipped through the darkness, the eruptions casting eerie shadows across the dark earth, shattered bodies and equipment tossed from the dugouts and emplacements.
Tracks churned earth as the lumbering Panzers crashed into the forward Russian observation trenches, turning on their axis as they tore and ripped at the soil below, terrified wounded and stunned defenders screaming beneath as the spinning steel got ever closer, eventually tearing and churning through flesh, the tank crewmen gritting their teeth above as the bloodied Panzers then lumbered onwards.
Blue-grey exhaust fumes filled the darkened air, the infantrymen in following Hanomags with flushed cheeks as the German tanks neared the first line of concealed Russian pak guns set just below the rise further north. Engineer vehicles raced between the armoured carriers behind, the pensive specialists readying to disembark and clear passages through the extensive minefields beyond the initial enemy positions, Grossdeutschland was now one kilometre from the first Russian defensive line.
Leutnant Hausser ducked as bullets clattered against the exterior armoured plate, Udet’s upper frame shuddering as the MG34 burst into life, tracers sweeping towards the Russian machine gun position ahead. The Maxim fell silent as two of the gunners twisted and jerked from multiple impacts, the third soldier turning to run as two riflemen next to him scrambled away breathlessly, their screams muffled as the Hanomag crashed into the treeline near them. Branches screeched along the armoured sides of the carrier as Tatu grasped the front shield tightly, the Hanomag bouncing over the defences before the engine roared further, tracks spinning. Glimpsing the three running silhouettes ahead, he gestured frantically to the young blond gunner next to him, the MG34 muzzle flashing as the Russian infantrymen fell, their twitching bodies disappearing beneath the front of the Hanomag, the wheels bouncing as the Romanian sergeant winced at the shrill cracking, the engine roaring further.
Then he glimpsed Wolff’s SdKfz 250 roaring into the field from the right, the vehicle swerving as the front machine gun opened fire, rifle flashes from the treeline ahead as bullets clattered against the front armour, Tatu ducking back as the machine gun chattered once more.
As the two carriers surged forward, Hausser’s Hanomag crashed through the trees, the wheels bouncing as the engine roared, the tracks tearing through a deep rut, Hase straining his eyes through the forward viewing slits a
s he glimpsed the crushed bodies, the armoured hulks beyond with plumes of exhaust billowing back. A Panzer IV tore through the trees and saplings on the left, undergrowth and bushes crushed under the front tracks as the tank veered northwards, its turret turning in the gloom.
Flashes from the right, Hase ducking instinctively as sparks flew across his vision, the Maxim machine gun position previously concealed as the forward tanks passed. Bullets raked the side of the carrier as Udet dropped below the armoured plate, another Hanomag bursting through the trees, the upper gunner cracking the bolt back on the MG34 before firing into the darkness, the Russian machine gun falling silent as the crew lunged for cover. The carrier surged forward, engine roaring as it crashed into the gun position, the machine gun collapsing on its mounting as the steel bent and cracked, the Hanomag grinding forward as the three Russian crew scrambled away into the darkened undergrowth.
Leutnant Hausser shouted from behind as Hase accelerated, ‘Keep going up the slope...our target is ahead, the Russkie forward command bunker…Tatu’s section is with us…’ The commander glanced back down at the map, rotating it slightly as the soldier next to him flicked his lighter once more, Hausser nodding as he shouted further, ‘Pak gun positions ahead…stay behind the Panzers.’
Hase nodded, then shook his head, the German next to him grinning and indicating ahead, for him to follow the lead Hanomag as it burst through the next treeline, turning sharply to the left and onto a track. The Major’s SdKfz 250 churned after the carrier as Hase accelerated further, tracks whining as the distant thumps of artillery sounded across the terrain.
Hausser stiffened, the rumble just audible through sporadic firing and explosions, his eyes straining upwards as the first lights of dawn began to spread across the sky. The carrier bounced from side to side as he struggled upwards, Udet twisting the forward machine gun to fire into undergrowth ahead to the right, the Hanomag turning once more as the commander slumped sideways, hands grasping frantically for the armoured plate to either side to steady himself.
Rising to his feet and glancing at side flashes filling the darkened terrain, he shouted hoarsely, ‘Artillerie! Keep down…’ The whoosh overhead was almost instantaneous, the explosion lighting up the Hanomag’s interior as the ten soldiers ducked, their upper bodies showered in dirt as the carrier shook from the blast wave. Hase gritted his teeth as the Hanomag swerved to the right, bouncing and lurching into a low depression, another nearby explosion rocking the sides as debris clanked against the armoured plate.
The engine roared once more, the wheels spinning briefly in the soft earth as further eruptions lit up the landscape and driver’s compartment, Hase’s pupils contracting as the explosions seemed to intensify, Russian rear artillery firing at newly obtained coordinates.
The Russian pak gunners sat uneasily in their positions, the muffled explosions and rattle of gunfire resounding up the slope towards them. Rifle shots rang out, a burst of machine gun fire nearby, the men glancing round nervously as a burble of engines seemed to echo across the slope before them, the whining of tracks seeming to fill the landscape. The lone surviving junior officer ran behind his guns, shouting desperate encouragement, several of the pieces twisted and broken in smouldering undergrowth, the torn bodies of their crews lying with them, several badly wounded crawling away as some of their limping countrymen attempted to help.
Captain Medvedev also ran along the line at a half crouch, wincing as he glimpsed the bodies in the weak dawn light, many slumped over their guns and twisted metal. Counting seven surviving pak guns, he drew breath, the junior officer dropping to one knee next to him as they stared forward into the mirk. Medvedev grimaced, the engines getting louder as sporadic fire continued all along the land before them, the isolated forward units now far fewer in number.
The junior officer suddenly grasped his arm, gesturing frantically as several silhouettes roamed from the brush and trees two hundred metres to the south, desperate pleading shouts from the retreating infantry, ‘Comrades…help us…’
The junior officer’s voice rose in half panic as shells swept overhead, his hand reaching for the officer, ‘Captain…the general ordered us to shoot at those that retreated!’
Medvedev pushed his hand away, gasping as fear began to spread through his chest, the wave of gunfire and shouts seeming to engulf him, his voice rising to shout, ‘Don’t shoot on our men…let them come. Make ready…the fascists are upon us!’
He pushed himself upwards, the junior officer scrambling with him, his eyes wide with terror as the engines got louder, explosions flashing across the southern slope, ‘The general…he ordered…’ Smoke shells burst across the darkened land to the south, the billowing mass spreading low across the cold earth.
Medvedev spun round, his teeth gritted, ‘The general is dead…we try and hold them here and then retreat into the minefield…’ Then he turned back, the shrill cracking of branches as he gasped, several hulks smashing through the trees further down the slope, the forward machine guns flashing as tracers zipped through the tree line, several of the fleeing silhouettes in the swirling shroud shuddering and falling.
Then muzzle flashes, the searing light flashing past as both men threw themselves down into the undergrowth, Medvedev screaming, ‘Open fire!’
Flames tore through the trees and defensive positions, the eruptions throwing bodies and equipment into the dawn air. One Panzer IV shuddered, the track grinding across its steel wheels, another shell exploding against the side skirting and ripping it from the tank, the crew inside bounced against the turret ring and hull.
Further high explosive shells swept into the tree line, machine gun fire erupting from the defensive emplacements as several Russian infantry raised anti-tank rifles. Medvedev pushed his face into the undergrowth, his hands over his ears as the eruptions ripped through the trees, his back peppered with earth and shattered bark and branches. Screams filled the air as the engines roared, tracks whining louder as machine gun fire peppered the trees, smoke sucked underneath the angled hulls, the explosions endless as more tanks roamed forward, firing into the Russian defences.
Acrid smoke overpowered his nostrils as he glanced up, the hulks of German tanks surging towards them as desperate shouts filled the pungent air, his head moving from side to side in near shock as he saw the torn and shattered bodies, equipment and trees burning with blood splattered around him. The lifeless eyes of the young junior officer next to him, his chest torn wide open from shrapnel. Several other frames twitched nearby, the bent pak barrel dug deep into the soil, one of the crew slumped over the twisted metal forward shield, his right arm missing, a bloodied stump dripping darkened liquid across the collapsed wheel.
Struggling upwards to one knee, he shook his head, realising his hearing was gone, just a low whine as he glimpsed men running back, several dragging wounded comrades, a machine gun flashing to the far left, then an explosion and fireball, the crew thrown backwards as the heavy weapon disintegrated, several soldiers running past faltering and falling as razor sharp shrapnel cut through their flesh.
Then he was running, shouting frantically at the men around him, ‘Back to the next line…everyone for themselves!’ Gasping, he glanced up, eyes widening in horror as fighter planes roared overhead, his eyes just making out the large dark crosses before he stumbled, hands scraping and pushing desperately at the earth to stay upright, flashes filling his vision as further explosive blast waves smacked against his body, his frame shuddering as he forced himself onwards. Running further up the slope, several men jumped and scrambled over the defensive trenches, other defenders turning to join them, a number remaining stubbornly behind, ducking down as the Panzers roared over the positions, tracks spinning above them as the tanks roamed further into the rear, cutting down many of the fleeing men.
The tanks surged onwards, Panzer IV’s belching flame as the Tiger I’s tore through the Russian forward positions to the left, Panthers roaring forward further west, some already having fallen foul
of engine problems. The tanks were heading straight for the deep minefields of the Soviet first defensive line as Luftwaffe fighters and fighter bombers roared overhead, the pilots radioing back to confirm the position of the forces below, 4th Panzer Army was ahead of schedule.
Chapter Eighteen: The First Day: Grossdeutschland Division Front
Leutnant Hausser watched as the lead Hanomag surged onwards, a Panzer IV rumbling alongside as its turret turned to the left, a belch of flame erupting from the muzzle the flash of light streaking above the terrain as the explosion followed off to the left, his eyes straining as he glimpsed the bodies thrown upwards, the tubes of mortars and supports breaking outwards through the trees. Shaking his head, he grimaced, realising they had finally located the troublesome Russian forward mortar unit.
Then he stared forward, gritting his teeth as he glimpsed Tatu shouting at the soldiers in his carrier, his head ducking as engines roared overhead, FW190s sweeping forward to support the lead Panzers, his own lips pursing in determination, ‘We are near the bunker and trench section…make ready…we clear it of stragglers!’ The metallic rasp of rifle bolts being pulled back followed, the Hanomag veering off to the right to avoid a copse of trees and then braking as Major Wolff’s armoured carrier roamed into view, the commander standing upright and waving as he passed before them, grinning as Hausser lurched backwards, his hands stretching out for the sides for support.
More ME109 fighter planes roared overhead, Udet glancing upwards and glimpsing the numerous groupings of high altitude Stukas heading north, a wry smile spreading across his lips as he turned to his commander, ‘The Russkies are getting a present today…I have never seen so many planes…’
Bloody Citadel Page 23