This was Kein Blumenkrieg – a war without garlands.*
* Literally no flowers were thrown – eg at a victory parade.
Chapter 11
‘Kesselschlacht’ – victory without results
‘We will have to annihilate everything before this war is going to end.’
German soldier
Cannae at Kiev
On 20 August the Eastern Front presented a fascinating picture. Lead elements of Army Group Centre had occupied Yelnya, southeast of the Minsk–Smolensk–Moscow highway, holding a salient that appeared to point at the Russian capital. Some 600km due south on roughly a straight line, Army Group South had reached the River Dnieper at Kremenchug. This represented the forward wedge of a German front shaped like an isosceles triangle. Its western apex lagged 550km behind the leading eastern elements. Concentrated within the triangle was the entire South-west Soviet Army Group situated south of the Pripet Swamps. Few commanders since Hannibal had ever enjoyed the prospect of achieving an operational double envelopment. Concept here verged on actuality.
On a hot August day in 216BC, an outnumbered Carthaginian force of 40,000 men commanded by Hannibal Barca surrounded eight Roman legions during the battle of Cannae. A feint toward the centre resulted in the double envelopment of the Roman Army of 86,000, twice the size of the Carthaginian force. Seventy thousand Roman legionaries perished, unable to escape. History appeared to be repeating itself more than 2,000 years later. Soviet Marshal Budenny’s South-west Army Group was inside an enormous salient 240km wide that extended from Trubchevsk in the north to Kremenchug on the River Dnieper to the south. Kiev lay at the western extremity of the bulge. The conditions for a Cannae-like battle of encirclement were recognisable at this point, but only to those with a visionary operational view. Marshal Budenny had about a million and a half soldiers in this area, elements of eight armies, located mainly at Uman and Kiev itself.
Hitler’s controversial strategic directive to change the main axis of advance southwards was planned as a double encirclement. A preliminary inner ring was to be created by three manoeuvring German infantry armies. Second Army was to advance south-east from Gomel, Seventeenth would strike north from Kremenchug, while the Sixth Army fixed Russian attention on the centre at Kiev. The outer ring was to be formed by Generaloberst Guderian’s Panzergruppe 2 driving south from Trubchevsk with 500 Panzers to make contact with von Kleist’s 600 tanks of Panzergruppe 1 attacking north from Kremenchug, 200km east of Kiev. It was a carbon copy of Cannae. Carthaginian infantry lured the Roman legions into the heart of their concave formation in the centre, while cavalry, the precursor of the Panzers, smashed the wings and then enveloped the committed Roman infantry from the rear. The aim was not to defeat but annihilate the enemy.
As the German plan unfolded, the Russians appeared paralysed and incapable of decisive action. Nobody saw the awesome trap opening. Instead of withdrawing behind the natural defensive line of the River Dnieper, Marshal Budenny reinforced those very areas, like Uman south of Kiev, which were to be engulfed by the German spearheads even before the main battle commenced. General von Kleist’s Panzers entered Novo Ukrainka on 30 July, cutting the Kiev–Dnepropetrovsk railway line, isolating Uman from the rear. The only route left open to the Soviet Sixth, Twelfth and Eighteenth Armies lay south-eastward along the River Bug to Nikolaev on the Black Sea. The Kessel (cauldron) thus formed leaked until closed by the German infantry divisions of Eleventh and Seventeenth Armies marching up from the west and south-west, which relieved the Panzers. Fifteen Soviet infantry and five armoured divisions were trapped and destroyed in a pocket that netted 103,000 PoWs. Its reduction was complete by 8 August. One German artillery battery pounding the encirclement fired more ammunition in four days than it had expended throughout the entire six weeks in France during 1940.(1)
An idea of the magnitude of distances covered during these tactical envelopments can be gauged from the progress of one of the Panzer spearhead divisions. Ninth Panzer Division, belonging to von Kleist’s Panzergruppe 1, was at the end of the pincer that closed the Uman pocket. Setting off at Belaja-Zerkow, it swung down from the north to link with German infantry from the Ist Gebirgsjäger Corps. Between 24 and 30 July it captured 747 PoWs, destroying two tanks and eight guns en route before grappling with the enemy. By 5 August it had knocked out 33 tanks and 116 guns, taken or destroyed 1,113 trucks and captured 11,000 PoWs during an advance of 185km. A further tactical sweep occurred between 7 and 26 August through a series of Ukrainian industrial and communications centres between Kirovograd and Dnepropetrovsk on the River Dnieper. The distance covered was 490km, greater than the distance from London to Paris and slightly less than from Paris to Amsterdam in the Netherlands. A further 65 guns and over 16,000 PoWs were taken en route.(2) This latest advance opened up the possibility of a Cannae-like pocket. To the west the front was concave in shape, while the sinister spindly fingers of Panzer advances reflected on maps were reaching out to envelop the Soviet flanks. Fingers poised at Roslavl in the north and Kremenchug in the south needed only to close in order to spring a gigantic trap. They were some 600km apart.
The experience of these fast-moving German columns alternated between routine interspersed with sudden isolated skirmishes. Nothing was permitted to interrupt the flow of operations. Food was eaten on the move. Curizio Malaparte, an Italian war correspondent, described how:
‘In this fluid type of warfare there is no time for meals. One eats when one can. Every soldier carries with him his ration of black bread and marmalade and his thermos of tea. Periodically, even during the heat of battle, he will take a slice of bread from his haversack, spread it with marmalade, raise it to his mouth with one hand, while with the other he grips the steering wheel of his lorry or the butt of his machine gun.’(3)
Fighting varied in intensity. Activity for the most part was clinically observed from a safe distance through binoculars. Incidents spluttered to life here and there, clouding the overall picture. Malaparte described a skirmish between his armoured column and Russian rearguards, which typified the haphazard and indistinguishable nature of such mobile engagements.
A Soviet tank opened fire on the column. ‘I hear distinctly the clatter of its tracks,’ he wrote, but nobody was aware of what was going on. ‘It seems to be sniffing the air, trying to locate an invisible trail leading though the corn.’ Battle was joined, but its progress and outcome was indistinct:
‘[The Russian tank] starts firing with its machine guns, but half-heartedly, as if it merely wanted to test them. It advances swiftly down the slope toward us, then, without warning, it describes a wide half-circle and doubles back on its tracks, blazing away with its cannon. One could almost believe that it was looking for someone, that it was calling someone.’
The Russian infantry attack that followed was similarly surreal:
‘Presently some men emerge from the corn and proceed to wander about the hillside, making no attempt to conceal themselves. Others emerge at various points. All told they must number about a hundred. Evidently this is some rearguard detachment or perhaps a detachment that has been cut off from the main body. The men seem to hesitate. They are seeking a way of escape.’
Leutnant Weil, the officer accompanying Malaparte, unlike the majority, knew the plan. ‘Arme Leute [poor fellows] – poor bastards,’ he said. The Russian soldiers spotted the Panzer column and advanced down the hill towards it, firing as they came.
‘Then suddenly they vanish. There must be a dip in the ground at that point, a depression in the hillside. Around the tank can be seen the tiny chunks of turf thrown up by the shells of our mortars. The stutter of machine gun fire spreads along the flank of the column like a message tapped out in morse. Then some German soldiers appear over to our right, walking with their heads down, firing at the Russians. They advance in a line, blazing away with their sub-machine guns. An anti-tank gun fires a few rounds at the Russian tank. And now the outlines of two Panzers appear on the brow of the hill, i
mmediately behind the Russian tank.’(4)
Scores of such flanking and minor tactical encirclements made up the flow of the German Panzer advance. They were unstoppable, but progress was not necessarily easy.
Occasionally there was time for pathos. After the skirmish, Russian bodies alongside the knocked-out tank were checked for signs of life. There’s nothing we can do,’ concluded the medical orderly.
‘One of the Germans looks around for some flowers; there are only red flowers in the corn, a species of poppy. The soldier hesitates before these flowers, then he gathers an armful of corn, with which he covers the faces of the two dead Russians. The others look on in silence, nibbling hunks of bread.’
Interestingly, Malaparte observed he did not bother to cover the faces of the Mongolian soldiers.(5)
Despite the signs of impending encirclement at Kiev and the consequent likelihood of a catastrophic situation developing on the southern front, Stalin rejected suggestions that Russian troops be withdrawn to more defensible positions. On the contrary, he sought to increase the already over-manned Ukrainian capital garrison, being prepared to strip other sensitive sectors of the front to do so. German moves were interpreted as a diversionary feint to focus attention away from Moscow, the main objective, which he expected to receive an all-out attack prior to the autumn rains. A speedy resolution of the immense and technically complex issues which the German side would have to solve to create an envelopment was beyond the comprehension of Soviet staff officers with far less experience. There was, indeed, no historical precedent – which may have stimulated suspicion – to compare. Michael Milstein, an officer on General Zhukov’s staff, gave his view on the impending catastrophe after the war:
‘Firstly, the German Army had a colossal and overwhelming superiority. Secondly, we lacked the necessary combat experience. The third factor was Stalin’s interference, which like Hitler [later] was to have tragic consequences for the German Army’s advance. In this instance it appeared we did not withdraw from the area in time.’(6)
The potential for catastrophe was not appreciated. Zhukov was relieved as Chief of the Red Army General Staff and down-graded to a reserve front at Leningrad for having the temerity to suggest surrendering Kiev and withdrawing the exposed South-west Front to more defensible positions. Marshal Budenny, who commanded this sector of the front, was given an unambiguous order: not a step backwards, hold and if necessary die’. Dimitrij Wolkogonow, a young Soviet staff officer, assessed the likelihood of anyone questioning such an order:
‘All dictators are similar in certain respects. Victories are explained in terms of genius and of personal merit. But when dictators experience defeat, they attempt to pass the guilt to those executing their orders – the generals, for example.’
Stalin had already relieved about 100 military commanders in 1941, including an array of generals. General Pavlov was removed after the initial catastrophic week on the western frontier and was arrested alongside Klimowskich, the front signals commander, with one other army commander and several other generals. They were executed. Wolkogonow summed up, pointing out that ‘Stalin forced his military commanders to produce successes through such stern measures.’(7)
On 9 September Col-Gen Michael P. Kirponos, commanding Soviet forces around Kiev, was ordered by Marshal Budenny, the front commander, to begin preparing for an ‘orderly phased withdrawal’ to escape the approaching encirclement and prepare to counter-attack. Stalin was familiar with this theatre of operations, having served there in 1918. He took close interest, having determined to fight in its defence. As a precaution he ordered the evacuation of industrial plant eastwards. He further conferred regularly with the Kiev High Command hierarchy, and installed a telegraph machine in the Kremlin for this purpose. Kirponos, Budenny and Nikita Khrushchev, the political commissar commander (and later Soviet premier) constantly raised the issue of withdrawal at these conferences. Alexander M. Wassiliwski, Stalin’s Deputy Chief of the Red Army General Staff, recalled his ruler ‘flying into a rage’ on hearing of the ‘absolute necessity’ to give up Kiev recommended by his commanders. Orders were issued to cancel the withdrawal set in motion. ‘Take all possible and impossible measures,’ he ordered, ‘to defend Kiev.’ Two days later Kirponos appealed again for flexibility, but Stalin was uncompromising. He adamantly declared:
‘Kiev is not to be given up and the bridges are not to be blown without STAVKA authority. Kiev was, is and will be – Soviet. No withdrawal is allowed. Stay and hold, and if necessary die! Out!’
Kirponos, at the other end of the telegraph, responded with a tired resignation. ‘Your orders are clear – out. Farewell.’(8)
Generaloberst Guderian’s Panzergruppe 2 had started south on 23 August on a blisteringly hot summer day. Armoured columns began raising immense clouds of impenetrable dust. The 3rd and 4th Panzer Divisions moved with the 10th Motorised Infantry Division, supported directly behind by the 2nd SS Division ‘Das Reich’. They attacked due south. The 3rd Panzer Division was typically subdivided into three mixed Kampfgruppen (battle groups) of Panzers, motorised infantry and artillery with anti-tank units. Primitive sandy road conditions reduced progress to no more than 70km before columns had to be refuelled. After 40km the lead battle group – Kampfgruppe ‘Lewinski’ – passed the first road sign bearing the distinctive Cyrillic characters which indicated they were entering the Soviet Socialist Republic of the Ukraine. General Guderian’s initial response on hearing his army was to move into the Ukraine and then back toward Moscow was, ‘I doubt if the machines will stand it, even if we are unopposed.’(9) Encirclement battles at Minsk and Smolensk had already exacted a considerable toll. His Panzer divisions were on average only at 45% effective strength. Exceptions were the 10th Panzer Division at 83% and the 18th at 57%.(10)
The troops, nevertheless, were in buoyant mood. Roads were firm with few swampy areas and the weather was sunny and clear. It was Sunday, typical ‘cavalry weather’ or in other words ‘Panzer weather’, according to the 3rd Division official historian. After three hours’ driving, a Russian transport column was surprised and caught on the road. The enemy abandoned their Panje-wagons and fled into the sunflower fields. As the Panzer spearhead breasted another rise they came across a huge column of Russian lorries passing left to right. The line of vehicles consisted of artillery batteries, logistic units, engineers, tractors, Panje-wagons and mounted Cossacks riding security supported by two armoured cars. Lead Panzers shot a gap through the column and the spearhead passed on through the stream of milling Russian vehicles.(11)
The drama of the ‘Cannae’ fought at Kiev unfolded on an unprecedented scale, as shown on the representative scale of the pocket indicated by the triangle on the map. Guderian’s Panzergruppe 2 from Army Group Centre pushed southwards, linking up with von Kleist’s Panzergruppe 1 coming up from the south. Five Soviet armies were annihilated, generating hope again in Germany that the war might be won that year. But it was a victory without decisive results, achieved at considerable German cost. The Russians fought on.
On 24 August an advance battle group from the 3rd Panzer Division captured the 700m-long bridge spanning the River Desna at Novgorod Seversk. So rapid was the assault that the Pionier platoon commander was overtaken by the lead Panzer company as he removed high explosive charges from the bridge and tossed them into the water. Having crossed, strong resistance was encountered from units of the Soviet Twenty-first Army. Its commander was becoming increasingly alert to the sinister implications of this powerful Panzer force, driving south-east, well over 200km east of Kiev.
The 2nd SS Division ‘Das Reich’ captured another bridge on the division’s right flank at Makoshim, after a daring assault by its motorcycle infantry reconnaissance battalion. Stuka dive-bomber air support had been frustratingly delayed. As the SS soldiers began to prepare the bridgehead against inevitable Russian counter-attacks, the missing Stukas appeared and howled into the attack, dive-bombing their own troops. Forty Waffen SS soldiers were ki
lled.(12)
Between 25 August and 7 September the 3rd Panzer Division fought a number of heavy battles south of Shostka, advancing only a further 55km south.
Generalfeldmarschall von Bock, the commander of Army Group Centre, monitoring Guderian’s progress from afar, was becoming increasingly frustrated at the imposed redirection of his main armoured thrust away from Moscow. Army Group Centre’s stalled infantry were now enduring intense punishment from Russian counter-attacks directed at the Yelnya salient, where some ground had to be given up. On 30 August he sullenly confided to his diary, ‘the idea of an offensive on my front thus appears to be dead’. He noted the next day, ‘the Panzer group [Guderian] is being attacked on both flanks and is in a difficult situation’. On 2 September Guderian was demanding more forces to support his southern advance, following the loss of the 10th Motorised Infantry Division bridgehead south of the River Desna. ‘Guderian’s description of the situation was so pessimistic,’ declared von Bock, ‘that I had to decide if I should propose to the Commander-in-Chief of the Army [Halder] that the armoured group be pulled back across the Desna.’
Even the Führer felt the tension emanating from this ambitious enterprise. Guderian, he insisted, should be concentrating his forces for the drive south. Generalfeldmarschall Keitel telephoned von Bock twice on 4 September and stated, ‘if the Army Group and the Commander-in-Chief of the Army don’t intervene with orders, the Führer will do it.’ Guderian became so headstrong and irritated at the perceived lack of support from his army commander that von Bock felt, ‘I finally had to ask for his relief.’ On 5 September he admitted, ‘I cannot hide my worries about new difficulties with this outstanding and brave commander.’(13) Tension was not a solely Russian prerogative. On the following day, the weather broke. Torrential summer storms turned the roads into a quagmire. Kriegsmaler Theo Scharf observed, ‘half an hour of deluge would turn the unmade roads in the rich red soil into knee-deep melted chocolate, bogging down every vehicle, except the fully tracked ones.’(14) Movement began to grind to a halt.
War Without Garlands: Operation Barbarossa 1941-1942 Page 34