by Unknown
It was becoming increasingly clear that the last reserves were now being mobilized, to wage the
“Total War” to “Final Victory” proclaimed by Goebbels., For the battle of Lauban two tanks corps were placed in readiness, one to the east and one to the west of Lauban, completely unnoticed by the enemy and even by the Volksgrenadiers stationed there, without doubt a fine bit of work by Schoemer and his staff. During the night of I and 2 of March 1945 we attacked. I and my combat group were attached, by Schoerner personally, to the lefthand tank corps.
The Russians were utterly surprised by this massive attack, supported by 8.8cm antitank units. In heavy fighting, which lasted until 9 March, Lauban and the important railway line were freed and the Russians driven back far to the north, losing in the process more than 80 T34 tanks and 48 undamaged guns. My own combat group alone managed to knock out about 25 tanks; the rest were dealt with by the 17th Panzer Division. With this the main objective was achieved; but all plans to free Breslau remained illusory, in view of the great superiority of the Russians.
The battle of Lauban was, and remained, the last major German offensive operation of the war, and as such was naturally exploited by Goebbels's propaganda.
For all of us, a terribly depressing experience was to stay forever in our minds. In the villages we recovered, we ourselves saw for the first time how the Russians had rampaged in the past weeks. Never in my life shall I forget the sight of the maltreated, violated women who came to meet us, screaming or completely apathetic. Neither old women nor girls, who were still children, were spared; the houses were plundered, old men were shot.
Faced with these sights we asked ourselves: Was this the revenge for the millions of Russians, including civilians, who had died in the last four years, or been carried off to Germany? Or had instincts been liberated here, as in all the German territories conquered by the enemy, which were uncontrollable? We did not know.
These fearful atrocities had a very depressing effect on all of us, especially on the men who came from the eastern regions. On the other hand, they reinforced our determination to fight all the more grimly now for every square yard and help the civilian population as much as possible in their flight to the west.
After the success at Lauban, I was released by Schoemer in the middle of March and went back with my staff and the remainder of the tanks to our division, which was lying north of Goerlitz in the Neisse position.
There I was confronted with an incident in which my II battalion commander had been involved.
THE STORY OF MAJOR WILLI KURZ While Koniev made strong thrusts in the Goerlitz area, in an attempt to divert attention from his planned major offensive over the Neisse, elements of my division were constantly engaged in counterattacks, in which my II Battalion under Major Willi Kurz was also involved. On one of these operations Kurz was wounded. This hit me particularly hard, for Kurz, since the invasion days of June 1944, had been a highly decorated commander admired by all and with whom I had bonds of true friendship.
When I visited him in May 1986 in Massassauga, Toronto, I heard for the first time of his odyssey. Here is his story.
“After various meanderings in ambulances and hospital trains, I ended up, with some other wounded, in the military hospital of Leitmeritz in the Sudetenland. On 8 May 1945, after the Czech The Beginning of the End 255 uprising, we were loaded onto trains again. Meanwhile Krieger (my adjutant for a time-Author) had also arrived among us, wounded. We traveled in the direction of the famous spa of Karlsbad, which was a meeting place of the Russian and American 'spheres of influence.”
"We hoped to be taken in by the Americans. But American officers, who were apparently sticking precisely to. the demarcation line agreed with the Russians, forced us to go to Karlsbad in the Russian zone. The Americans seemed to be unaware of the fate to which we were now consigned.
“In Karlsbad there was complete chaos. Three hospital trains were standing in the station with an ammunition train between them. Suddenly fire broke out-in one of the carriages of a hospital train, right by the ammunition train. Those of us-who could'still' stand were able to put out the fire, thank goodness; the Russians just looked on. It was boiling hot and there were no more bandages. Next to me lay a sixteen-year-old boy with legs amputated; his dressings had not been changed for fourteen days. The boy was enduring his pain with the last of his strength in the hope that he might yet end up under American 'protection.”
"Our nurses slept between us at night, with huge bandages round their heads to disguise them as wounded soldiers.
"We all stuck close together, though the Russians constantly tried to take away our boots, watches, and other belongings. We received no food from the Russians. The walking cases begged something to eat every day from the civilian population.
Suddenly we hit on the great idea: one of our doctors explained to the Russian commandant that an epidemic had broken out in two of the trains. What was to be done? The Russians got into a panic and sent all three trains to the Americans.
“Thank goodness the commandant in charge appreciated our white lie; nevertheless, he declared our three trains to be an 'open hospital.” A precarious situation for us, for armed Czech 'halfsoldiers' were drifting about everywhere, looking for a late revenge for the occupation of their country by Hitler. But all went well. After a few days a column of American trucks arrived and took us to a military hospital in Franzenbad, right on the frontier with Germany. There at last the severely wounded received treatment. I myself was transported after a fortnight to Eger, near Franzenbad, and arrived in an overcrowded POW camp, in which 30,000 men were gathered together in the open air.
“After a few days the loudspeaker suddenly announced: ”Major Willi Kurz to report to the gate!“ A jeep from the Military Police appeared. ”Come on, Major,“ they said, somewhat brusquely. ”We've got to take you for interrogation. Get in!" I had a very uneasy feeling.
"Standing in front of the command building was a young officer.
“Come in!” he said. I still wore all my medals and insignia of rank. On stepping into the large room I saw American officers lined up on either side to form a long aisle, down which I was led to a huge table, at which sat a general and a row of senior officers. A courtmartial, I thought, but what for? As I arrived at the table, the general and his officers stood up.
“'Are you Major Willi Kurz of the 21st Panzer Division?”
“Yes, I am.” I still didn't know what was going on.
“Did you belong to Regiment 125 under Colonel von Luck and were you in action at Rittershoffen, in Alsace?”
“'Yes, that is so. They were probably the hardest fourteen days I went through on any front.” Were they going to punish me now for Rittershoffen?
“'I am the commanding officer of the 79th U.S. Infantry Division, which fought against you in Rittershoffen; these here are my staff and behind you my officers have formed an aisle in your honor. In the name of all my officers and men, and myself, I should like to show our regard and appreciation for the brave conduct of your men. We owe you our respect.”
"I was speechless and struggled to hold back my tears: after the heavy fighting in Rittershoffen and the last difficult months and my wound, now suddenly this great gesture by our enemy. I finally pulled myself together and replied.
“'May I also express our respect for you, General, and your division. We admired your courage and the doggedness with which you defended the villages of Hatten and Rittershoffen, although three of your battalions were encircled at times for days on end. We were particularly impressed by the way you finally managed to disengage, by night, without our noticing. When you had gone, we were all of the opinion that in Rittershoffen there had been no victor and no vanquished. In the morning after your withdrawal, my commander, Colonel von Luck, played a chorale on the undamaged organ of the ruined church, at which our men and the sorely tried civilians were moved to tears.”
“'In the next few days,” the General resumed, “I should like
you The Beginning of the End 257 to talk over with me and my officers how you on the German side conducted the engagement at Rittershoffen, what your problems were, and your tactics. I believe we can learn something from you.”
“I was surprised,” Willi Kurz ended his account, “with what interest the Americans followed all I had to say, also about the front in Russia. I sat with them for several days and, as one of the wounded, was soon released.” It was not until the beginning of 1988 that I received an account of “the Cross of Lorraine,” A Combat History of the 79th Infantry Division. This mentions that “when the war in Europe was over, a United Press dispatch, quoted in the New York Times, reported 'the Major Kurz Story.”' In 1960, Kurz went to Canada for his firm as a timber salesman, then for a few years to Brazil and back again to Canada, which became his second home.
After our conversation in his pleasant house in Massassauga near Toronto, I saw him for the last time in 1987, a few months before he died, unfortunately, from a heart attack.
Back in March 1945 I was glad that Major Kurz and Captain Krieger had received their “homers”, although I greatly missed them with all their experience.
The End At the beginning of April it became increasingly clear that Marshal Koniev would attack frontally over the Neisse, and not toward the southwest.
Schoerner, therefore, on his own account, ordered our 2 1 st Panzer Division and the Fuehrerrt division to move to the area of Spremberg Cottbus, that is, about a hundred kilometers south of Berlin on the edge of the take-studded Spree Forest, west of the Neism.
During the night of 12 and 13 April our division rolled north in express troop trains. Owing to the great air superiority of the Russians we could only travel by night. Early on 15 April the first 21 trains arrived in the new combat area; 6 others were on their way. Hitler subsequently authorized this displacement and declared the two divisions to be Army reserves.
From our monitoring service we knew that Zhukov's First White Russian Front had seven armies on the Oder at Kuestrin and two armies at Frankfurt-an-der-Oder, and that Koniev's First Ukrainian Front had six armies opposite our Neisse position.
The relative strength of the Russian and German forces was assumed to be as follows: infantry, 6:1; artillery, 10:1; tanks, 20:1, air force, 30:1, whereby the German divisions no longer had their former strength and fighting power.
We were not even familiar with the new terrain when, on 16 April, the great Russian offensive began: from five o'clock in the morning the Russians opened massive fire from over 40,000 guns on our defensive positions, simultaneously in the Kuestrin area and on the Neisse. Supported by fighter-bombers and bombers, the Russian tank armies moved forward and in the first onslaught broke through our positions.
After that'everything happened very quickly. in an immediate counterattack a dangerous gap opened up between ourselves and the Fuehrerrt division. Strong armored units thrust right into this gap, so that our division was forced away to the north and into a pocket that was forming, which contained the bulk of the 9th Army under General Busse.
The End 259 The weight of the attack split our division, into several parts.
The artillery group lay in the north, no longer far from the outer districts of Berlin. It broke through to Berlin independently a few days later and escaped from the pocket. Our sister Regiment 192 fought in individual combat groups. I had no further contact with them to the bitter end. My own combat group, reinforced by the last tanks under Major von Gottberg, was at once involved in heavy defensive fighting on the right wing, at the very point where the Russian tank armies were now thrusting into the gap between us and the Fuehrer-escort division.
We still had contact with divisional HQ, but clear orders were no longer forthcoming; they had probably lost control. To avoid being taken in the rear and destroyed, I ordered the right wing to bend back with its front to the south. On the evening of 16 April," my defensive front was holding; during the night there was some slackening of combat activity.
Late in the evening, my intelligence officer handed me the telephone receiver, “The divisional commander is on the line.”
“Von Luck here.” I could say no more, for all I could hear in the receiver was shouting. “Who's there? I can't understand you, please don't bellow so.” The shouting continued. I heard something about “court-martial.”
“I still don't know who is on the line; speak more quietly.” Gottberg, my adjutant, and the orderly officers were already laughing.
“General Marcks here,” came a somewhat quieter voice. “Who permitted you to draw back your front?”
“The Russians and the situation on my right wing 'permitted' this adjustment of the front. Please come up here and satisfy yourself personally about the situation. You can't judge the matter from your command post.” We commanders knew very well that it was now up to us alone to make decisions and save the lives of our men. Without further comment Marcks hung up.
To find out something about the general situation, of which we knew nothing from division, I decided to go to HQ early the next morning.
The divisional command post was in a sort of manor house. On entering I saw the general-staff officer sitting at a table in the hall.
“Good morning, I should like to speak to the commanding of ficer.” Dirty and unshaven I was quite out of place in the elegant surroundings.
“The CO is still asleep,” I was told. “Can I help you, Colonel?”
“No,” I replied, “after the shouting on the phone last night I must insist on speaking to the CO. I haven't much time, so wake him up.” No doubt woken by our loud conversation, our divisional commander appeared on the landing of the first floor-in a nightshirt. I saw him sway slightly. The general-staff officer made an unmistakable gesture, “a few cognacs.” It rather shook me that this highly decorated officer was no longer up to the situation psychologically.
"General, I should like to know something personally about the situation of our division and about the situation in general.
Also, I should like to ask you to come to the front with me, so that you can obtain a picture in person of how things look among our people."
“The situation is completely obscure,” he replied, “so I must remain here at my command post. As for you, Colonel von Luck, I warn you. You have to fight where you are put. I will not tolerate unauthorized actions.”
“General, take note that in the last phase of this war I will make those decisions that I believe to be right.” With that I left what was to me a spectral scene.
Far too late, Hitler authorized the withdrawal of the units fighting on the Oder, which were already outflanked on both sides.
The “Halbe pocket” formed the highway triangle, Berlin-Dresden and Berlin-Frankfurt, about 80 kilometers southeast of Berlin.
By the evening of 19 April 1945, the bulk of the 9th Army, including unfortunately, the remains of the 2 1 st Division, which had been forced away to the north, were almost surrounded.
After Krieger had been wounded, Liebeskind was with me again as adjutant. When the fighting had died down that evening, we were sitting, exhausted, in the command post when out of the radio came the bombastic voice of Goebbels. From the Fuehrer's bunker in the center of Berlin we heard, “On the eve of the birthday of our beloved Fuehrer, I call to the German people and our brave soldiers, ”Trust the good star, believe in God and follow our Fiiehrer in the hour of need.“' With a reference to the death of Roosevelt, Goebbels then recalled ”the power of fate" and drew parallels between Hi tler and Frederick the Great.
The End 261 Rumors were going around in those days" deliberately it seems, that the Western Allies had fallen out with the Soviet Union.
One of Hitler's statements was broadcast, which he was supposed to have made over the radio “... I take responsibility for everything,” and “... if the German people cannot achieve victory, then they have no right to survive.” This was a bit much. There were cries here and there of, “Turn the thing ofp” and “What good do
es it do us, our families and ruined cities if Hitler takes responsibility for everything, which no one man can do anyway.” We here outside, before the gates of Berlin, knew that now only a miracle could save us from death or captivity.
On 20 April about 360 Russian tanks and double that number of trucks were reported to be on the move behind our backs, northward in the direction of Berlin. From the south, tanks probed my right flank. In the next few days the Russian attack struck us head on and forced me to pull back the front again.
Hitler seemed to have no intention of giving up. We received the announcement that the newly created
“Armee Wenck” was now no longer to prevent the advance of the Americans on Berlin, but was to fight to free Berlin and, with our 9th Army under General Busse, which was breaking out of the pocket, stop the Russians.
Over a hundred kilometers separated us from Wenck, who was supposed to advance on Berlin from the area of Magdeburg on the Elbe.
As the division's rear guard, we withdrew slowly to the north and on 25 April arrived in the area of Halbe, the town that was t6 achieve sad fame as the “Halbe pocket.” Unexpectedly, I was put directly under General Busse and given the following orders: “You will attack in the coming night at 2000 hours with your combat group and all available armored vehicles, which will be brought to you, westward across the Dresden-Berlin highway, in the rear of the First Ukrainian Front advancing on Berlin, with the aim of reaching the Luckenwaide area on the Berlin-Leipzig highway. The point of breakthrough is to be kept open, to enable those elements of the 9th Army following on foot'to reach the west. All vehicles not earmarked for fighting are to be destroyed, fuel to be transferred into fighting vehicles. The civilian population is not to be informed; thousands of refugees would hinder the operation.” By 1900 hours a few more tanks had indeed arrived at my command post, mainly the fast little “harriers” (Hetzer). Naturally, our preparations could not remain hidden. At nightfall hundreds of civilians gathered in the village with primitive carts and emergency bundles of belongings. I took no steps to send the pitiable women and children back. I could not and would not do so, though I had the gravest misgivings that they might become involved in fighting.