Nemesis

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by John Schettler


  It would take a lengthy and somewhat contentious discussion by Halder and Manstein before Hitler moderated this view, as Halder argued that operations in the South would not be impeded by any plan to take Moscow, should this be contemplated. In a meeting with Manstein, still Hitler’s confidant and advisor, the two men laid out the options for Hitler, voicing their opposing views.

  “We are well on schedule in the South,” said Halder. “Forces there should cross at Dnepropetrovsk in a matter of days.” In fact, the increased German effort in the south had them well ahead of the offensive pace set in Fedorov’s history books. There the Germans had taken the city on the 17th of August, but did not consolidate their river crossing operations in the area until the 25th of that month. Kleist did not break out at Cherkassy until mid September, and Kiev itself had held out until the 17th of that month.

  Yet now, in these altered states, the Germans controlled the entire southern bank of the Dnieper, from Kiev to the big river bend at Dnepropetrovsk, and they did so by late July. Elements of two Soviet Armies still held the north bank, but they had been driven out of Kiev in mid-July, and Guderian’s powerful 2nd Panzer Group was preparing to renew its offensive after the infantry mopped up resistance in the city, and the engineers went to work on the bridges. Where would it go? This was the big question on the table now.

  “Guderian will break out easily enough,” said Halder. “If they couldn’t stop us in the street fighting of Kiev, then what little they have left will be overrun as soon as 2nd Panzergruppe crosses the river in force. Do you disagree, Herr General?”

  “No, this is the likely outcome. Guderian will break out as you say, but now we must decide where to send him. There are two options. The first is north, bypassing the fortified city of Bryansk and aiming at Orel. He’ll be followed by Kleist with 1st Panzer Group. In my opinion, this force should turn east and become the left pincer for the planned envelopment of Kharkov. This will free up the SS Panzer Korps to move to the right, and force a crossing of the Don somewhere near the Izyum bend.” Manstein tapped the location on the map. “About here, my Führer.”

  Hitler leaned over the table, nodding, but saying nothing. Izyum was a little over 100 kilometers southeast of Kharkov, where the Donets twisted around some wooded high ground.

  “Then you do not intend to push into the Donets Basin?” Halder had believed this would be Manstein’s strongest argument. The big bend of the Donets was a major mining center for ore, coal, and other resources, with many mills, smelting factories, and foundries. It was a plum in the Fuhrer’s eye, and suited his idea of fighting economic warfare perfectly.

  “Not immediately,” said Manstein. “Yes, that is a direct route to Rostov from Dnepropetrovsk, but we must not forget Kharkov—a major industrial center and enemy supply hub. If the SS drive directly into the Donets Basin, they will be doing exactly what the enemy expects. The Russians are dug in there, with forces they have been moving up from Rostov and the Caucasus. For that matter, the terrain is in their favor, very rugged and unsuited to swift mobile operations. It would be a battle of attrition, and work for infantry, not the elite motorized SS formation. So I propose to take that Korps over the Donets somewhere between Kharkov and Izyum, and then drive through Kupyansk. This way, when we turn east, the river is on our right flank, and it will be very difficult for the enemy to mount any threat from that direction. The SS will, in effect, be enveloping the entire Donets Basin, cutting it off from Soviet forces in the Don sector. They will be between those two rivers, shielded by both in any movement to the east. Such a maneuver will also cut off all the Soviet forces still fighting in the Kuban.”

  “And Kharkov?” Halder pointed. “If the SS turn east after crossing the Donets, then there is no right pincer for that operation.”

  “The Russians will not know that for some time. When the SS force their crossing, it will be perceived as part of a major operation to envelop Kharkov—which is why I need Kleist on the left. If he simply follows Guderian, then there is no threat to Kharkov, and it will sit there until we mass enough infantry to reduce it, which could take some time, particularly if we do not envelop the city and cut road and rail connections bringing in reinforcements. The only question I have for you, General Halder, is whether 2nd Panzergruppe is strong enough to reach Orel as you might plan?”

  Halder thought for some time, his dark eyes intense on the map. “Hoth,” he said, speaking of the commander of the German 3rd Panzergruppe. “I will send Hoth to reinforce that thrust. Once these forces reach Orel, they will be in the perfect position to envelop any enemy defense at Bryansk, and to pose a direct threat to Moscow.”

  “Moscow?” Hitler spoke for the first time, looking from one man to the other, and as Halder had spoken the word, Manstein remained silent.

  “This issue was bound to come up in these deliberations,” said Halder. “I am aware of your remarks to General von Brauchitsch, my Führer, but do not be so hard on me. Moscow is the center of the entire Soviet political and military apparatus. It is the single most important communications hub in Russia. Everything goes through that city, unless it is coming from the eastern front. We have been dancing about the matter, afraid to suggest what will soon be the inevitable conclusion—that we must take Moscow if we are to eventually win this war. Otherwise what are we doing with this plan to drive on Smolensk? It has but one obvious purpose—to threaten Moscow.”

  Hitler raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. The reality on the ground was speaking to him now, for Halder’s argument was plain to see. Most of Army Group Center was committed to the attack against those three city objectives now, Smolensk in the north, guarding the road to Moscow, Bryansk in the south, and the city named for his adversary, Kirov, between the two. Halder tapped the map at Smolensk first.

  “I believe the enemy will muster every division they can to try and stop us here, just as they will when we break through and advance on Kirov and Bryansk. When they lose all three, and after we have Kharkov in the south, the Soviets will be running out of places to hide. They will have no recourse, other than to fall back on Litebsk, Voronezh and the Don. That is when the real question of whether to strike Moscow must be answered. Once we have Guderian at Orel, then we must choose, either to drive north through Tula and advance on Moscow to end this war, or to turn east to Voronezh and Litebsk, preferably the former, and then drive for the Volga and push for a linkup with Volkov.”

  “He will certainly be happy to hear that you haven’t forgotten him,” said Hitler.

  “Indeed, my Führer. A linkup with Orenburg has always been a major objective for winning this war. That must be achieved either in the Caucasus, or to the east—on the Volga. I do not think we can expect that he will come to us. Therefore we must conceive operations aimed at breaking through to him. So in the north we now throw a storm of steel against the strongest remnant of the existing Red Army, between Smolensk and Bryansk. Once those objectives are secured, we can transition to Operation Typhoon. If Moscow is selected as the final objective of this operation, then Guderian continues north. But if we wish to prosecute the war in the south, then that force forms the northern pincer for a new operation. Let us call it Southern Wind for lack of anything better at the moment. In this instance, Guderian’s mobile group becomes a sword that will cleave the entire Soviet Union in two. So if Moscow is forsaken, then we must go east to the Volga. There is no other way.”

  “What about the Caucasus?” said Hitler, as if Halder had forgotten the principle object of his planning for so many months. “What about the oil?”

  “General von Manstein will shortly deliver the Crimea as a first step in that direction,” Halder replied. “It was my understanding that the SS Korps he argued for so ably, was there precisely for the purpose of taking Rostov. Now, it seems he has other ideas.” On that note, Halder folded his hands behind his back, waiting.

  Manstein knew a curtain call when he heard one, and he cleared his throat. “My Führer, once I have crossed the
Donets as I described earlier, then Steiner’s SS Korps will be in the perfect position to turn east or to cross the Don at any time of our choosing. This will pocket all the enemy forces in the Kuban. Then we simply clench our fist and the Kuban is yours—and the oil with it. This is the purpose of my thinking. And let us not forget Volgograd either. Sergei Kirov has held Volkov at bay there for over fifteen years. He will not want to give him that city now, and so I expect it to be heavily reinforced. This is another argument that begs us to leave Moscow in our wake and turn east. Halder’s northern pincer will be well to the north after Guderian takes Orel and I will be in the south. The two forces could then easily converge on Voronezh.”

  Hitler took a deep breath. “First things first, gentlemen,” he said at last. “General Halder, you may order Guderian to Orel as planned, and I agree that Hoth’s 3rd Panzer Group should reinforce this attack. General von Manstein. Cross the Donets as you please, and be sure that you have handed me Kharkov before you turn east. Clear? Then, with that city in hand, I will look at the situation again and we will continue this discussion. In the meantime, dinner is waiting, and I am famished!”

  *

  It would not be as easy as the generals made it sound to suit the Führer’s mood. Manstein would order Steiner over the Donets, and he would cross it as easily as he had bulled his way across the Dnieper at the bend of that mighty river. The crossing was made right where Manstein’s baton had fallen on the map, between Izyum and Balakleya. Then Hitler’s proviso would come in to effect—the necessity of securing and delivering Kharkov prior to mounting any major drive to the east as Manstein desired. To this end, he directed Steiner to push north, while the tough units of Grossdeutschland and the Brandenburg Division moved to encircle Kharkov from the east. In this they were well supported by the Wiking SS Division, feeling the opposition here to be much easier than they had encountered in Syria.

  “At least the Russians haven’t got tanks like the British we fought there, the men would say. This work is easy!”

  But that was all about to change.

  Chapter 26

  Kirov was pacing in the Kremlin very late that day, as the cold winter snows settled over Moscow. News from the front was most discouraging, and his intelligence chief, Berzin, stood there, hat in hand, a dejected look on his face. He was the bearer of bad news that night, and much sooner than any had expected.

  “They pushed through the Isthmus of Perekop,” he said solemnly, referring to the narrow gateway to the Crimea. “The siege of Sevastopol will follow soon, and two months ahead of schedule.”

  “I still have hope that we can hold the Crimea a good long while,” said Kirov. “It took the Germans all of eight months to take Sevastopol, at least according to the material. So maybe we will hold out there.”

  “It was never our plan to hold there for very long,” said Berzin. “Yet if it falls, the Black Sea fleet is out of business. We have no friendly port left except Novorossiysk in the Caucasus, and if we lose Sevastopol, that will be their next objective.”

  “Will the Germans attempt a crossing at Kerch? Are they planning to attack the Taman Peninsula?”

  “We’ve observed a buildup of artillery in that direction, but the main drive is south towards Sevastopol. Frankly, I don’t think the Germans have adequate shipping in the Black Sea yet for a crossing at Kerch, and Volkov has been too cautious to venture out from his ports on the Georgian coast. They will also need Sevastopol to supply any troops they plan to move across. The other harbors are simply too small.”

  “Then what will they do?”

  “Take the port, of course, yet they are not using all of their 17th Army. Most of those troops have moved to the Donets Basin defense line for the attack on Rostov, if that is what they are planning next.”

  “You mean to say you do not know? My intelligence Chief is remiss tonight. Too much vodka at dinner?”

  Berzin smiled, for Kirov knew he never drank before a briefing, wanting to be clear headed and sharp at all times when vital strategy might be discussed there in the Red Archives. The wan light illuminated his wide forehead, beneath the brush like flat top hair, his thick neck and rough features giving him a tough, formidable aspect. And now those chiseled features were drawn and grim, the seriousness of the situation weighing heavily on him as well.

  “We’ve detected no signals or any firm orders for the 17th Army,” he said, “but I think it is likely that they will move as I suggest. The SS have not moved south as we expected. They used that group to force a crossing of the Donets, east of Kharkov.”

  “An envelopment operation?”

  “Perhaps, but no real threat has built up to the south, or west on the other side of the city. They moved up a few infantry divisions, but they are digging in.”

  “Then the SS will attempt to link up with that penetration Volkov has forced over the Volga north of Volgograd.”

  “A possibility. Either that, or this is a planned envelopment of Kharkov as it now seems. But a good portion of that Corps is now pushing north and slightly east.”

  “Can we stop them?”

  “We’ve sent everything we could find there to try—reserves from the Trans-Caucasus District, the Southern Front, and STAVKA Reserve. All our plans for an offensive on the Upper Volga are on hold now.”

  “Karpov was not too happy to hear that,” said Kirov with a wag of his finger. “He was eager for that offensive to begin, but agreed to hold the line so we could pull troops out for deployment elsewhere.”

  “Yes, well that makes three armies we’ve taken off the Volkov Front now. Any further offensive there is out of the question this year, except at Maykop in the south. That’s the only good news I can bring you today. We’ve got the oil fields, and hopefully we’ll have the city before nightfall.”

  “At last,” said Kirov, “though we’re too late. By the time we get trucks down there to haul the oil, the Germans may be hammering at the Rostov Gate. The only good that will do us now is to possibly convince the Kuban tribes to join with us. We could raise a good number of divisions there.”

  “Possibly,” said Berzin, “Yet if Rostov falls, that will cut off all our forces in the Kuban, and all those new recruits along with them. That’s twenty-eight rifle divisions, four cavalry divisions, and ten independent brigades. The ten divisions defending at Rostov with the newly reconstituted 9th Army will also be in that cauldron, and if we don’t act quickly, you can add all our troops on the Elista front as well—another ten divisions there.”

  “Over fifty divisions…” Kirov pinched the bridge of his nose. “Can we get them out?”

  “We’ve taken Salsk, and cleared the rail lines for exactly this option. If Rostov Falls, the Kuban front will have to withdraw over the Manych, and it will be a difficult crossing. There is one bridge and one fordable area we could use, and after that, two more rivers to cross if they are to get to the bridge over the Don at Tsimlyanskaya. That is presently the headquarters location for the Trans-Caucasus Front.”

  “It sounds impossible,” said Kirov, shaking his head again. “It’s that damnable SS Corps. They’ve been unstoppable, and these were divisions that were not supposed to have reached full strength this early in the war.”

  “Clearly the material is no longer reliable,” said Berzin, referring to the secret cache of documents Kirov had hidden there on the future course of history. “And to make matters worse, Volkov has reinforced his Volga bridgehead again. He’s bringing up reserves from Kazakhstan.

  “You told me those troops was still at Astrakhan a week ago!” said Kirov, obviously upset by this news.

  “They moved,” said Berzin. “He was very sly this time. We had good men watching all the rail depots to report on any movements, but nothing went by rail. He moved his men over secondary roads, well south of those depots, right through the wasteland.”

  “That cost him a lot of fuel.”

  “He has far more than he will ever need,” said Berzin, stating the obvious.
“Now we think he may be planning to relieve the 4th Army south of the city. Then he could swing those troops up to reinforce his bridgehead north of the city and possibly renew that attack.”

  “What have we done to counter?”

  “There isn’t much we can send now,” said Berzin. “Everything has been pulled into the fight for Smolensk, Kirov, and Bryansk. Zhukov sent all the troops we pulled from the upper Volga, but they don’t have the strength to mount a strong counterattack to try and cut that salient off. A single rifle division and four brigades that went by rail just reached Frolovo north of the Don. They encountered Volkov’s Armored Cavalry there as they detrained.”

  “They’ve penetrated that far?”

  “I’m afraid so, sir. It’s clear what their next move will be. That SS Korps can mount a thrust towards the Don, and Volkov will attempt to cross again and meet them when he reinforces that sector.”

  “We stopped him once,” said Kirov, a harried look on his face. “We’ll stop him again.”

  “Unfortunately, we pulled so many divisions off to face the Germans, that stopping him this time will not be easy, if it will even be possible at all. We’ve already sent all three divisions of the Volga Rifle Corps from the city. If the Germans do turn east now, we could soon be looking at a double encirclement, and the entire Volga Front in the bag with the Kuban Front, there are twenty divisions in the immediate vicinity of the city itself.”

  “And that is where they will stand and fight,” said Kirov. “We do not give up Volgograd, by god. We’ve held Volkov off for fifteen years there, and he’s not getting his grubby hands on it now either.”

  “Unfortunately,” said Berzin, “the Germans may soon have something to say about that. For the moment, our strategy of fighting for the major cities seems to be working as planned. Their Wiking Division has moved north of the Donets, and now it has turned west to threaten Kharkov.

 

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