Frontier tank battles
War correspondent Arthur Grimm rode with the 11th Panzer Division, part of Army Group South, toward the first major tank battle in the eastern campaign within 24 hours of the invasion. Columns of half-track SdKfz251 armoured personnel carriers festooned with infantry churned up dust as they lurched along heavily rutted village roads, ‘when the reconnaissance group from our unit radioed that some 120 Soviet tanks had moved up in front of the village of Radciekow’. Engines whined and hummed into life as Grimm described ‘their forward advance into the dawn twilight’. Shortly before 05.00 hours ‘we drove through high cornfields as the early morning fog began to clear’. PzKpfwIIIs and IVs drove by, dark silhouettes floating across the surface of a sea of corn. They distinguished groups of Soviet tanks to their right which ‘included the heaviest and most modern tanks in the world’.
On the other side of the dispersed village houses Grimm observed the dark tell-tale dots that were Soviet tanks moving about. At 05.20 hours the German assault drove into the left flank of these indistinguishable dots and, with a flash, a tall globule of black smoke rose slowly into the air and began to form into a dark ominous mushroom shape. The boom of the report carried across the intervening distance as the first Soviet tank erupted with a shot that ‘penetrated its ammunition compartment’. The first tanks encountered were B-26 variants. Grimm, following closely behind the German tank advance, took photographs of scenes of blazing destruction around him. Dirty columns of smoke began to hang lazily in the air as tank after tank was hit.
‘20-rounds were required to bring this heavy tank to a standstill’, commented Grimm captioning a photograph which he took passing a blazing T-34 tank. Its gun was traversed rearward, to enable the driver to escape from his forward hatch. ‘But this only lasted a few seconds before the remaining ammunition exploded in a blinding flash’. Grimm’s reportage for Signal,(1) the German pictorial propaganda magazine, glossed over the desperate nature of the engagement as German tank gunners realised they were up against surprisingly heavy and unknown tank types. Leutnant Ritgen’s observations of the 6th Division’s encounter with KVs at Rossieny three days later were more honest:
‘These hitherto unknown Soviet tanks created a crisis in Kampfgruppe “Seckendorff”, since apparently no weapon of the division was able to penetrate their armour. All rounds simply bounced off the Soviet tanks. 88mm Flak guns were not yet available. In the face of the assault some riflemen panicked. The super-heavy Soviet KV tanks advanced against our tanks, which concentrated their fire on them without visible effect. The command tank of the company was rammed and turned over by a KV and the commander was injured.’(2)
Despite the quality of the Russian tanks, tactical surprise and superior German battle drills began to tell. Alexander Fadin, a Soviet T-34 tank commander, described the spectrum of emotion a tank crewman would feel in such a battle:
‘You get excited as you look for a target. The engine starts and the ground bumps up and down as you charge forward. You sight the gun and the driver shouts “Fire!”’
Spent shell cases clatter to the floor of the turret and begin rattling around, as with each concussion and recoil of the gun the fighting compartment fills with fresh cordite fumes. Fadin continued:
‘When you hit a German tank in battle and blow it up, instead of firing at another tank, you open the hatch. You look out and make sure you got it!’(3)
German tank crews were coldly and professionally detached. Leutnant Ritgen surmised, ‘the Soviet tank crews had no time to familiarise themselves with their tank guns or zero them in,’ so soon after the invasion, ‘since their fire was very inaccurate… Furthermore, the Soviets were poorly led.’ Arthur Grimm observed that by midday on 23 June ‘a dusty sea of black smoke from red and yellow flames had built up’. German reinforcements that had been brought up in support ‘hardly needed to get into the fight and remained merely as spectators’. Leutnant Ritgen said the 6th Panzer Division’s early frontier battles were not without crisis.
‘One of our reserve officers – today a well-known German author – lost his nerve. Without stopping at the headquarters of his regiment, the division or the corps, he simply rushed to the command post of General Hoepner [the commander of Panzergruppe 4] to report that “everything was already lost”.’
German tactical ingenuity began to level the odds. ‘Despite their thick skin,’ Ritgen explained, ‘we succeeded in destroying some by concentrating fire on one tank after the other. “Aim at the hatches and openings!” we ordered.’
Grimm, the war correspondent, observed by 16.00 hours that afternoon ‘the black smoke over the battlefield became ever thicker’. PzKpfwIV tanks had already ceased firing because they were being resupplied with ammunition. Panzer tactics varied according to crew initiative. ‘Some enemy tanks were set on fire and others blinded,’ Ritgen pointed out. ‘If they turned around we found it was possible to knock them out from the rear.’ Such lessons were being learned throughout the new Russian theatre.
Hauptmann Eduard Lingenhahl serving with Panzer Regiment 15 explained the heavy PzKpfwIV companies ‘found mainly by chance’ that quarter-second delayed action HE shells fired into the back of T-34 tanks either set the fuel or engine on fire, as blazing fuel poured through the air induction grating.(4) By 21.00 hours the battle was over. The 11th Panzer Division destroyed 46 tanks on the heights south-west of Radciekow village alone. Contrary to the later propaganda coverage there was little complacency. Three days later Major Kielmansegg spoke to his 6th Division commander about the first encounter with heavy Soviet tanks at Rossieny. ‘Herr General,’ he said, ‘this is a totally different war from that we have experienced with Poland or France.’ It had been ‘a hard battle with hard soldiers’ and a number of officers had been badly shaken. ‘Early panic,’ Kielmansegg declared, ‘was mastered finally only by the attitude and discipline of the officers.’ He stated soberly:
‘At the division level we saw, for the first time in the war, the danger of a serious defeat. This was one of the heaviest strains I experienced during the war.’
The only comfort he could derive was a report that one of the ‘monster tanks’ he had seen had been immobilised by a Leutnant placing a mine under its track.(5) Arthur Grimm’s Signal report, not unexpectedly, ended on a high note.
‘The Soviets left the battlefield after a duel lasting eleven hours. More than 40 Soviet tanks were destroyed. The pursuit continues. Only five of our own tanks were disabled.’(6)
Hard fighting near the frontier was followed by a relatively ‘smooth’ period of spectacular Panzer advances towards Minsk and later Smolensk. The pattern of these days, although less eventful, remained gruelling. Hyazinth Graf von Strachwitz – an Ober-leutnant with Panzer Regiment 15 – declared, ‘we hardly had any sleep because we drove through both day and night.’(7) The enemy was given time neither to rest nor regain the initiative. Anotoli Kruzhin, a Red Army captain facing the German onslaught opposite Army Group North, said:
‘In the first days of the war the German Army was advancing very quickly. The state of shock, as it were, stayed with us for quite a long time. As far as I know the Soviets were not organised to fight until July or even the beginning of August. This was in the region of Staraya Russa, west of Novgorod. But before that, in July, the Soviet Army was retreating in such chaos that reconnaissance for the North-West front had to be provided by a special detachment. Not to find where the enemy was positioned, but Soviet units – their own army!’(8)
On the outskirts of Lvov, a similar picture was evident in the Russian 32nd Tank Division sector. Stephan Matysh, the artillery commander, had seen that superior T-34 and KV tanks had exacted many casualties. Russian tank crews were well aware of their superior armour, ‘sometimes even ramming [German] tanks’, but cumulative pressure was beginning to tell.
‘The incessant gruelling marches and the continuous fighting over several days had taxed the tank crews to the utmost. Since the beginning of the wa
r the officers and men had not had a single hour’s rest and they seldom had a hot meal. Our physical strength was leaving us. We desperately needed rest.’(9)
Colonel Sandalov, the Soviet Fourth Army Chief of Staff, had established the Army HQ in a forest grove east of Siniavka. With no radio communications whatsoever, he was reliant on messenger traffic alone. He reported the outcome of consistent and crushing blows inflicted on his forces by Guderian’s Panzergruppe 2 and Fourth German Army following its central route. Sandalov’s 6th and 42nd Rifle Divisions had already withdrawn eastwards with ‘remnants [which] do not have combat capability’. The 55th Rifle Division, having unloaded from motor transport, was quickly pushed from its rapidly established defence line, ‘unable to withstand an attack of enemy infantry with motor-mechanised units and strong aviation preparation’. No word had been heard of the 49th Rifle Division since the invasion. The XIVth Mechanised Corps, ‘dynamically defending and going over to counter-attacks several times, suffered large losses in material and personnel’, and by 25 June ‘no longer had combat capability’. Paralysis afflicted the Soviet defence:
‘Because of constant fierce bombing, the infantry is demoralised and not showing stubbornness in the defence. Army commanders of all formations must stop sub-units and sometimes even units withdrawing in disorder and turn them back to the front, although these measures, despite even the use of weapons, are not having the required effect.’(10)
A diagramatic representation of the Panzer advance. The vanguard – a light mixed force of Panzers and motorised infantry – would seek the line of least resistance. Once battle was joined, this lead element would ‘fix’ the objective while following heavier elements would manoeuvre, bypass, destroy or surround enemy resistance, relying upon later echelons to subjugate stay-behind elements. Fighting was generally in the form of meeting engagements shown top right) whereby junior commanders would exercise iniative to retain the tactical and operational momentum of the advance.
Konstantin Simonov, on the Minsk highway under German air attack, remembered a Soviet soldier shell-shocked by the bombing fleeing down the road shrieking: ‘Run! The Germans have surrounded us! We’re finished!’ A Soviet officer called out, ‘Shoot him, shoot that panic-monger!’ Shots began to ring out as the man whose ‘eyes seemed to be crawling out of their sockets’ fled.
Village clearance would occur once Panzer forces had isolated the settlements. Panzer-grenadier infantry would be committed with tank fire support shooting them in from the flanks, at an acute angle to advancing troops. Artillery and Luftwaffe air support might be employed to precede the attack, prevent the insertion of Russian reinforcements and harrass the eventual retreat. Achieving tactical momentum was of paramount importance.
Legend
Panzers and infantry split. Infantry lead attack on village.
Infantry dismount.
Panzers bypass and give fire support.
Panzer and anti-tank gun in direct fire support.
Infantry fight through village with man-handled anti-tank gun support.
Surviving Russians surrender or flee.
Grenadiers remount and with Panzers continue the advance.
‘Evidently we did not hit him, as he ran off further. A captain jumped out in his path and, trying to hold him, grasped his rifle. It went off and, frightened still more by this shot, the fugitive, like a hunted animal, turned round and with his bayonet rushed at the captain. The latter took out his pistol and shot him. Three or four men silently dragged the body off the road.’(11)
A collapse appeared imminent.
Panzer vanguard
A typical vanguard for a Panzer division in open terrain would consist of a mixed battalion-strength force of light armour and motorcycle-borne infantry. These were the ‘eyes and ears’ of following units (see diagram) which might include a battalion or regiment of Panzers, supported by motorised infantry at similar strength, riding on lorries or Panzergrenadiers in armoured half-track open-compartment APCs (armoured personnel carriers). Bringing up the rear would be a battalion – or even up to a regiment – of motorised towed-artillery, to provide close fire support. Light Panzer armoured cars or tracked vehicles (PzKpfwIs or IIs) would drive either side of parallel moving columns, forming a protective screen to the flank. Such a lead element in total was termed a Voraus-abteilung or vanguard combat team. It might vary in size from a battalion to a regiment plus.
Depending on terrain going’, units would move in dust-shrouded columns, several kilometres long. Leading reconnaissance elements were often tactically dispersed on a broad front, but many follow-on units simply drove at best speed, spaced at regular intervals. Three columns might advance in parallel if sufficient routes were available. Often they were not. Map-reading in choking dust-covered and packed columns was difficult. Crewmen would sleep fitfully wherever they could, as they bumped and lurched along in vehicles. These Panzer Keile (armoured spearhead-wedges) might operate from roads or spread out in tactical formation if terrain and ground conditions allowed. In woodand or ‘close country’ (bushes and scrub), the infantry would lead, clearing defiles, choke points or woodland, with tanks overlooking, prepared to give fire support. Open steppe-like terrain would see Panzers leading. War correspondent Arthur Grimm, following such a Vorausabteilung at the end of June, gave an atmospheric description of his observed axis of advance:
‘The landscape stretches flat ahead with wave-like undulations. There are few trees and little woodland. Trees are covered in dust, their leaves a dull colour in the brilliant sunlight. The countryside is a brown-grey green with occasional yellow expanses of corn. Over everything hangs a brown-grey pall of smoke, rising from knocked-out tanks and burning villages.’
Panzer crewmen have a different battle perspective compared to infantry on their feet. Scenery, as a consequence of greater mobility, changes quickly and more often. Maps are read from a different vista in terms of time, distance and scale. Panzers quickly crossed maps. Infantrymen saw each horizon approaching through a veil of sweat and exhaustion. Following armoured formations made infantry feel more secure – often a false assumption, but it did mean that friendly forces were known to be ahead. A new horizon for the tank soldier meant an unknown and, very likely, a threatening situation. His was an impartial war, fought at distance. Technology separated him from direct enemy contact: he normally fought with stand-off weapon systems at great range. When direct fighting did occur, it was all the more emotive for its suddenness and intensity. Grimm stated:
‘Scattered trees and wide cornfields are not pleasing to the eye, as they mean danger to us. Gun reports crack out from beneath every tree and from within every field of corn.’(1)
It was the accompanying supporting troops who closed with the enemy and saw him in the flesh. Anti-tank gunner Helmut Pole recalled the deep impression early Soviet resistance had upon him and his comrades.
‘During the advance we came up against the light T-26 tank, which we could easily knock out, even with the 37mm. There was a Russian hanging in the turret who continued to shoot at us from above with a pistol, as we approached. He was dangling inside without legs, having lost them when the tank was hit. Despite this, he still shot at us with his pistol.’(2)
Little can be seen from the claustrophobic confines of a tank closed down for battle. Fighting was conducted peering through letter-box size – or smaller – vision blocks in a hot, restricted and crowded fighting compartment with barely room to move. Each report from the main armament or the chattering metallic burst of turret machine gun fire would deafen the crew and release noxious fumes into the cramped space. Tension inside would be high, magnified throughout by a prickling sense of vulnerability to incoming anti-tank round strikes, anticipated at any time. These projectiles were easily seen flying about the battlefield as white-hot slugs, with the potential to screech through a fighting compartment and obliterate all in its path. The kinetic energy produced by the strike set off ammunition fires, searing the fighting compartme
nt in a momentary flash, followed by an explosive pressure wave blasting outward through turret hatches, openings or lifting the entire turret into the air. An external strike by a high-explosive (HE) warhead would break off a metal ‘scab’ inside; propelled by the shock of the explosion, this would ricochet around the cramped interior of the tank. The results were horrific. Flesh seared by the initial combustible flash was then lacerated by jagged white-hot shrapnel, which in turn set off multiple secondary explosions.
Tank crewmen were muffled to some extent from battle noises outside the turret, because the screams were dulled by the noise and vibration of the engine. Human senses were ceaselessly buffeted by violent knocks and lurches as the tank rapidly manoeuvred into firing positions. Dust would well up inside upon halting, and petrol and oil smells would assail nostrils during momentary pauses. A grimy taste soured mouths already dried of spittle by fear. Tank gunner Karl Fuchs from Panzer Regiment 25 admitted to his wife:
‘The impressions that the battles have left on me will be with me forever. Believe me, dearest, when you see me again, you will face quite a different person, a person who has learned the harsh command: “I will survive!” You can’t afford to be soft in war, otherwise you will die.’(3)
War Without Garlands: Operation Barbarossa 1941-1942 Page 20