In that way we kept going all afternoon, hour after hour. The stock of ammunition ran out, but new boxes were delivered without any interruption in our firing. With wet blankets we ran from mortar to mortar to cool off the gleaming hot barrels. Our rounds spread a terrible destruction among the charging Russian infantry waves.
For days and nights this slaughter went on at Preekuln. Only at dawn, or sometimes in the afternoon was there a pause as the yellow-brown Russian infantry soldiers started to crawl out of their hideouts and spread over the terrain in front of our lines … the first shouts of ‘Urrah!’ from the storming Bolsheviks were drowned by the murderous defensive fire from our mortars, from the fast-firing MG42s [the MG42 had an incredible rate of fire of 1550 rounds per minute and was nicknamed the ‘Hitler Saw’ because of the noise it made when fired] and from the sub-machine guns closest to the enemy. Wave after wave of attackers poured forth, but they were all crushed to pieces or fell back and faded. Our line held.
Both the Nordland and the 30th Infantry Division were pushed back during the fighting, and the Danmark was all but destroyed, but vigorous counter-attacks by the 14th Panzer Division helped restore the line and forced the Red Army to halt their offensive. With the crisis temporarily over, Hitler agreed that Steiner’s Corps should be evacuated from the Pocket and brought back to Germany to re-equip and help defend eastern Germany. When Steiner broke the news to Ziegler both men breathed a deep sigh of relief, but it was a relief no doubt tinged with guilt at the thought of the undoubted fate of the Army comrades they were leaving behind. As Steiner took his leave from General Rendulic he almost certainly knew that the Sixteenth and Eighteenth Armies were doomed. They would fight two more huge battles against the Red Army, performing magnificently, before OKW finally gave its consent to the evacuation of Courland on 3 May. Hitler himself had committed suicide on 30 April and Berlin surrendered on 2 May. In a last ditch operation the Kriegsmarine managed to bring out some 26,000 soldiers before the last remnants of the old ‘Army Group North’ finally laid down their arms. Over 180,000 men then marched east into Soviet captivity.
Embarking at Liepaja at the end of January on the Karin von Bornhofen and other transport ships, the Nordland was ferried safely to Stettin where it set foot on German soil for the very first time since its formation two years previously. As the troops recovered, and new replacements and equipment arrived, the division was recognised for its feats in Courland over the preceding four months with the award of the Oakleaves to its commander, Joachim Ziegler. His citation read:
On January 23 1945 the Russians started out for the area of Preekuln, with elements of three Armies and the mass of the 3rd Guards Mechanized Corps (eight divisions and three tank regiments confirmed). After a preparatory barrage of fire, the expected big offensive began towards Libau. Annihilating the biggest part of the troops occupying the main fighting line, the Russians succeeded in breaking through in depth in spite of the bloody defence of isolated, surviving, resistance nests. Seeing the threatened breakthrough, SS-Brigadeführer Ziegler reacted immediately. He stopped the supply services and deployed the gathered troops in blocking positions. Then, with the small divisional reserves, he himself led a counter-attack.
Only thanks to his own brave and untiring performance on the battlefield, especially on January 24–25 1945, was the situation stabilised. He personally led into action small battle-groups and reorganised the resistance in sectors of the front which had lost contact with each other. SS-Brigadeführer Ziegler prevented the breakthrough towards Libau. Through his exceptional bravery Ziegler ensured the continuation of the fight in Courland.
Operation Summer Solstice – Unternehmen Sonnenwende
Back on Stettin’s quayside, Ziegler and his men disembarked, climbed into their vehicles and left the bombed-out city behind them. The Nordland’s grenadiers drove south into the quiet Pomeranian countryside where they married up with their panzer battalion, now reformed and boasting 30 Panthers and 30 assault guns. This would be the last period of calm the division would experience before its extinction in the rubble of Berlin three months later. From this moment until the end, the Scandinavian Waffen-SS would be involved in bitter fighting across the east German landscape, being worn down by battles at Arnswalde, Massow, Vossberg and Altdamm. At each location, now all in modern-day Poland, they would leave yet more comrades behind, lying dead in the mud. For now though, the war seemed a long way off as the men spent more than a week training during the day and then relaxing at night in the local Pomeranian hostelries, eating, drinking and dancing with the local farm girls.
To the east and south the Red Army was equally happy, but for very different reasons. Having surged forward from its bridgeheads on the Vistula, the Red Army had broken into Germany and was approaching the Oder River just to the east of Berlin itself. Successful though the offensive had been, the STAVKA’s plan to defeat Nazi Germany in 45 days had failed, as the troops’ logistics failed to keep pace with their leader’s ambitions. Having splintered Army Group Vistula, under the hapless command of a totally unqualified Heinrich Himmler, the Russians were now short of fuel and ammunition and their attack came to a natural halt. Guderian, probably Hitler’s best remaining general, was the first to see the opportunity for a counter-attack to destroy Zhukov’s overstretched 1st Belorussian Front, and give the Germans much-needed breathing space.
A plan was quickly pulled together that called for a double pincer movement to cut Zhukov’s command in half, a thrust from Stargard in the north meeting up with a southern one from Frankfurt-an-der-Oder. Guderian also proposed that, for the first time in the war, the operation be totally controlled by the Waffen-SS. He called for Dietrich’s Sixth SS Panzer Army to form the southern arm, and a new SS Army, the Eleventh Panzer, to form the northern one. This made sound military sense as it would position Dietrich’s veterans to defend Berlin in the coming battle, but there was now no place at all for sound military thinking on Hitler’s part. The dictator was still obsessed with Budapest and Hungary, never mind that the city had fallen and the country almost lost. He refused to sanction Dietrich’s move north, and insisted the northern thrust alone would be enough.
Felix Steiner and the Eleventh SS Panzer Army
That blow would be delivered by none other than the man who symbolised more than any other the incorporation of European volunteers into the Waffen-SS – Felix Steiner. Promoted from Corps to Army command, Steiner was now given ten divisions, most of them divisions in name only, and no time to properly organise his staff. Ammunition was low, fuel desperately short and air cover non-existent. Arrayed on a 30-mile front, the attacking force was split into three columns. The Eastern Group was the weakest being made up of the 163rd and 281st Infantry Divisions and the Führer-Grenadier Division, collectively called the Corps Group Munzel after their commander. Their goal was flank protection, and to push out towards Landsberg on the River Warthe. Steiner’s old command, the III Germanic SS Panzer Corps, comprising the Nordland, a Flemish SS battlegroup, the Führer-Begleit Division and the Dutchmen of the Nederland (now upgraded to a division), made up the Central Group under General Martin Unrein. Their mission was to punch south and reach Arnswalde (now Polish Choszno) before advancing further. Completing the counter-attack force was the XXXIX Panzer Corps known as the Western Group. This Corps contained the Army’s Holstein Panzer Division, as well as the 10th SS-Panzer Division Frundsberg, the 4th SS-Panzergrenadier Division SS-Polizei and Degrelle’s Walloons, like the Dutch, recently renamed as a division. Their role was flank protection, as with the Eastern Group, but they were also there to exploit and reinforce any success achieved by the Central Group.
Facing Steiner’s new army were no less than five Soviet ones, including the experienced 1st and 2nd Guards Tank Armies, the 3rd Shock and the infantrymen of the 47th and 61st. With each Soviet Army being roughly equivalent to a German corps in size, it was clear that even if the attacking divisions had been up to strength they would have been badly outnumbere
d by the Soviets. As it was, their only hope of achieving the three to one ratio all military manuals lay down as necessary for an attacker to ensure success against a defender, was to concentrate all of their combat power into one overwhelming punch. This, Steiner’s inexperienced staff failed to achieve. Confusion reigned in the troops assembly areas, men and vehicles clogged up the few roads, and a thaw made the ground boggy and restricted movement. As a result when H-hour came on 15 February, only the Nordland was ready to cross the start line. They attacked into the northern flank of Zhukov’s 1st Belorussian Front, but right from the off Soviet resistance was bitter, and the going heavy, as the rain poured down and the ground turned to slush. It wasn’t exactly blitzkrieg. Nevertheless the Scandinavians, Germans and volksdeutsche pushed on, and reached the beleaguered town of Arnswalde on 17 February. Just as with so many towns and villages across the east, the local Nazi Party hierarchy had not prepared the people for the invasion and evacuation was left far too late. Needless to say the ‘golden pheasants’ themselves, as Nazi Party functionaries were disparagingly called on account of their penchant for flashy baubles of rank, managed to escape in time, but for the majority of the populace the swift Soviet advance left them high and dry and at the mercy of a vengeful Red Army.
More than 2000 German soldiers, many of them wounded, had taken refuge in the town and beaten off several determined Soviet attacks while the civilian population cowered in their cellars praying for deliverance. For once that early spring, their prayers would be answered with the arrival of the Nordland’s grenadiers. As the camouflaged and heavily-armed young troopers stormed into town there was a surge of relief as thousands of people poured out into the streets to greet them. Ziegler’s men consolidated for the day and then surged south again, only to hit a veritable wall of Russian steel, as artillery, armour and aircraft fire deluged them. As the SS troopers struggled on, behind them the civilians of Arnswalde packed as many of their belongings as they could onto carts and their own backs and headed north to safety, saved by the Nordland’s advance.
Further gains were impossible, and in a matter of days the now-deserted Arnswalde was again the frontline as the Nordland was pushed back by ever-greater Soviet attacks. On 23 February the town was abandoned. Summer Solstice had failed and the Nordland withdrew back to the line of the Ihna River. So ended the Nordland’s last offensive of the war.
Ultimately unsuccessful as the operation was, Ziegler and the Nordland were commended for their part in the battle. The official report formed part of Ziegler’s citation for the Oakleaves to his Knight’s Cross:
On February 15 1945 the 11th SS-Panzergrenadier Division Nordland, in spite of the severe shortage of fuel and ammunition, began the planned attack to free encircled Arnswalde. Knowing that with the quickly replenished panzer grenadier regiments, the attack’s objective could only be achieved by achieving surprise and leading it personally, SS-Brigadeführer Ziegler and the regimental commanders supervised the deployment for the attack in detail. At the beginning of the attack Ziegler placed himself at the head of the foremost battalion. After breaking the first resistance of the enemy, SS-Brigadeführer Ziegler ordered his armoured group to undertake a violent breakthrough towards Arnswalde.
With further attacks of the panzer grenadier regiments, the enemy [a large part of the 7th Guards Cavalry Corps] was annihilated. Booty included 26 anti-tank guns, 18 heavy grenade-launchers and two batteries of heavy artillery destroyed.
The enemy was defeated by surprise with minimal casualties [one regiment had just seven dead and two wounded] and for the first time an encircled fortress [1,000 wounded, 1,100 troops and 7,000 civilians] was liberated.
Praise indeed, but though casualties were relatively few overall the Scandinavian volunteers were fast becoming a rarity in the Nordland. By the time of the retreat into Courland the division still counted 534 Norwegians in its ranks, this had dropped to just 64 in the Norge by the end of Summer Solstice, and barely a hundred in total throughout the formation. Their places in the ranks were taken by recently-drafted German conscripts and redundant Luftwaffe and Kriegsmarine men. Hastily kitted out, these poor unfortunates became so much cannon-fodder, with the Nordland’s remaining veterans providing it with its real combat power.
Solstice had indeed failed, however the Arnswalde relief had unintended consequences for the Germans. Despite all the evidence to the contrary, Stalin and the rest of the STAVKA still feared what the once-mighty Ostheer could achieve, and they were now worried about a more general German assault from the north. They were determined to avoid this by driving to the Baltic Sea on a wide front and crushing all of north-eastern Germany. This would clear their flank, and leave the way open to take Hitler’s hated capital and end the war. While this operation was being hastily planned and executed, the chastened Red Army also pushed west seeking to establish bridgeheads across the last natural barrier between itself and Berlin – the River Oder.
Prelude to Berlin
It was just east of Massow. I was ordered to take up a forward position with seven men. We were to stop Russian infantry attacks with two MG42s. In pouring rain and pitch black darkness we groped our way to our three pits. I took the middle one with Gebauer, a German farmer’s son from Rumania, and brought the MG in position, hoping we would have some cover when day broke. The second MG was to our left with three boys, and the remaining three crawled into the pit to the right with assault rifles and sub-machine guns.
In the case of an attack this position was hopeless. There was no connecting trench back to the main line … For three days and nights we had to lie in these godforsaken pits, waiting, waiting, waiting. The rain started pouring again, no food reached us and any connection backwards was unthinkable as long as the artillery fire raged between us and the rest of the Company. Suddenly Gebauer shook me violently: ‘They’re coming!’
A quick glance through the camouflage, there, only 30 metres away, a drove of Bolsheviks were approaching – no time to panic. I could already see a second wave of infantry emerging from the haze, only 50 metres behind the first one. I got the MG going and fired for all I was worth. My fire and the screams of the wounded woke up the other boys, and our weapons spat fire and death on the brown masses.
I happened to look to the left and saw a Bolshevik working his way through a depression towards us, to get at us from behind. In the same instant he saw me and disappeared. There he was again! He aimed a burst from his sub-machine gun at me. The duel was on. The distance was hardly 20 metres. I got hold of an assault rifle [by now the Ostheer’s trusty old Mauser single shot bolt action K98 rifles had mostly been replaced with the highly sophisticated Sturmgewehr 43 assault] and waited for him. Martin, the Rottenführer with the other MG could have touched the Russian if he had looked in his direction but he didn’t notice the duel. Finally the Russian made a mistake, I squeezed the trigger and there, he was up again behind his weapon and before he could react he had a hole between his eyes. His head was thrown back, then sank, disappeared and his limp hand dropped his weapon.
Furious, the Bolsheviks threw themselves against us, the situation was hopeless but the boys fought formidably. While I helped Gebauer to feed the MG with new ammunition I could hear myself swearing non-stop, wishing them the worst possible tortures in hell. I let Gebauer handle the MG alone while I fired alternatively with the assault rifle and with my sub-machine gun. He forgot the danger, pushing his chest above the parapet in order to fire better. ‘Down!’ I screamed but he laughed, he was just 19 years old. Too late. Gebauer suddenly jerked backwards and sank to one side. I turned him around towards me. He was hit under the left eye, the bullet passing through his neck. He was still alive, blood flowing down from cheek and neck. He begged; ‘Write to my mother … just a few lines …’ and then I was alone.
Martin was now also alone. I called out to him to grab his weapon and come over. He came rushing with wild leaps. To the right as well only one boy was left. All the others had died with a bullet through th
eir heads. We got him over to us. I implored them to try and keep their heads down. Of course, Martin in his eagerness forgot my advice, and he broke down seconds later with a bullet just above the nose ridge.
‘Grab the gun and run!’ I bellowed to my comrade, as I got hold of my MG, hooked some ammo belts around my neck and ran. Zigzagging over the field in a crazy run, we reached what was left of the protective edge of the wood. My comrade was a few leaps behind me. As I threw a quick glance behind me, I saw him grab his chest, then fall forward. From the cover of the trees I looked up once more and saw him lying there weakly waving at me. Too late, nothing doing, the Russians were already there. (Erik Wallin)
The Soviets had waited barely a week before resuming their offensive against the Nordland positions on the Ihna River. Wallin’s entire section was wiped out in the fighting, as he recalled above, while his fellow Scandinavian Per Sörensen, now an SS-Sturmbannführer no less, was leading the Danmark’s 2nd Battalion in a struggle at nearby Freienwalde. Edi Janke was in the Danmark’s 3rd Battalion battling alongside Sörensen’s men near Vossberg. He remembers the tactics they used to try and slow down the Soviets:
We usually held a village for 24 hours during the withdrawal, and then came the order – ‘back to the next village’. First came the enemy tanks, we ourselves usually had just one anti-tank gun, which was set up to shoot the first tank. Then the tanks stopped and sent the infantry forward. The infantry was hit hard, then it got dark and we received the order to move back to the next village.
One day we were in a small village in Pomerania, on a reconnaissance patrol, when we discovered we were in danger of being cut off by the enemy. My commander ordered me to explain the situation to the commander of a nearby, solitary King Tiger.
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