by Ian Grey
The offensive against Moscow came to a halt early in October 1941. At once, the Germans prepared for a second onslaught. They were war-weary and ill equipped for the Russian winter, but they were also brave and disciplined. The Russians frantically strengthened their defenses and brought up reserves. Within fourteen days, 100,000 officers and men, 300 tanks, and 2,000 guns were moved into position. On both sides, there was a grim determination to win this battle.
At one stage during these defense preparations, Zhukov reported to Stalin that the enemy was concentrating forces against the Volokolamsk sector. Stalin at once ordered counterblows. He could not endure waiting for the enemy to attack; he had to take action. Zhukov protested that counterblows would disrupt the defense preparations in the sector and would have no impact on the already-strengthened enemy positions. Stalin was adamant. The attacks were made and failed.
On October 13, 1941, heavy fighting began on all the main routes to Moscow. In places, the enemy came within fifteen miles of the city. On October 17, Shaposhnikov and the general staff were evacuated from Moscow. Stalin remained with two assistants, Vasilevsky and Sergei Shtemenko. Like everyone left in the city, Stalin was acutely worried by the apparently irresistible advance of the Germans. He telephoned Zhukov at the front. “Are you sure we’ll be able to hold Moscow?” he said. “It hurts me to ask you. Answer me truthfully, as a Communist.”
“We’ll hold Moscow by all means,” Zhukov replied, “but we’ll need at least two more armies and another 200 tanks.”
“It’s good that you are so confident,” Stalin responded. “Phone the General Staff and arrange for the assignment of the two reserve armies you’re asking for. They’ll be ready by late November. But we have no tanks yet.” By the end of October, the German advance was slowing to a halt, but on November 15, 1941, they launched a new offensive, advancing almost to the outskirts of the city. They advanced no farther.
Stalin showed marked signs of stress toward the end of November. He was ill-tempered and refused to listen to his front commanders. On November 30, he telephoned Zhukov, asking if he knew that Dedovsk, a town twenty miles to the west, had been captured. When Zhukov answered that he did not know, Stalin snapped that the commanding general should know all that was happening on his front. He ordered him to take command of a counterattack to recover the town. Zhukov made urgent inquiries and learned that not Dedovsk but an insignificant village, called Dedovo, had been occupied. He telephoned to explain the mistake. Stalin was furious and would not listen. He ordered Zhukov and two front commanders, Rokossovsky and Leonid Govorov, to take personal command of a rifle company and two tanks to retake the village.
As soon as the German attack came to a standstill, Stalin, Zhukov, and Timoshenko at once began planning a winter counteroffensive. On November 29, Zhukov telephoned Stalin to make his report on the situation on the West Front. He then requested two reserve armies to enable him to push the enemy from their advance positions in the north and south of the front. Stalin questioned whether the Germans might not be holding reserves ready to defend these positions. Zhukov assured him that they had been “bled white.” Stalin said he would discuss the proposal. A few hours later, Zhukov learned that not two but three armies were being transferred to his command and that he was to report his plans the next day. According to Zhukov, this was the start of the planning of a massive counterattack on the Moscow front.
In the early hours of November 30, Stalin telephoned Zhukov and proposed that the whole of the West Front should go over to the offensive. Zhukov expressed concern about the lack of air support and of tanks, especially the new T-34 tank, which had proved its superiority. Stalin replied that he could not have tanks, but that he should at once arrange for stronger air support. Meanwhile, Timoshenko had attacked and recovered Rostov. With Stalin’s ready approval, he was preparing to attack the flank of the German center. Zhukov reported his plan of attack to Vasilevsky, and Stalin gave his immediate agreement.
At this time, Konev, commanding the Kalinin Front, was causing Stalin concern. He was not showing an offensive spirit, and he raised objections to the proposed counterattack. Stalin expressed himself strongly by telephone and told him to stop his hair-splitting tactics and to get on with the offensive. On December 1, 1941, at 0330 hours, Stalin and Vasilevsky signed the orders to the Kalinin Front. Three days later, Vasilevsky, as Stalin’s personal representative, was at Konev’s side at the front headquarters to ensure that he carried out the offensive with full determination.
On December 2, Stalin received General Wladyslaw Anders, a Pole who had served in the tsarist army and who had been held until recently in prison by the NKVD. Anders’s task was to recruit a Polish army to fight alongside the Russians. It was a plan that Stalin had accepted with reluctance; he could never trust Poles. He received Anders courteously but without the warmth he had shown Hopkins or was to show to Anthony Eden two weeks later. Eden found him more relaxed and without the signs of strain he had noticed in the previous September when the crucial struggle for Moscow was drawing near.
The winter counteroffensive, launched on December 4-5, was strikingly successful at first. By mid-January 1942, the Germans had been hurled back from Moscow, in some places as far as 200 miles. The Red Army was hampered, however, by shortages of tanks and motorized transport, and in the severe winter weather, their advance slowed down.
The Battle of Moscow had been an epic event. Zhukov considered that it marked the turning point in the war. It had involved more than 2 million men, 2,500 tanks, 1,800 aircraft, and 25,000 guns. Casualties had been horrifying in scale. For the Russians, it had ended in victory. They had suffered the full impact of the German Blitzkrieg offensive, and, notwithstanding their losses and the acute shortages of equipment, they had been able to mount an effective counterattack. They had begun to destroy the myth of German invincibility that had been undermining morale. They had, moreover, relieved Moscow.
Stalin had been impatient to go over to the offensive. He worried about the fighting spirit of his commanders. Any weakness on their part would quickly infect the troops. Often his demands for attack were unrealistic and even dangerous. He considered the myth of the invincible invader more dangerous. He believed in hurling fresh troops into battle so they would learn they could beat the Germans. When, toward the end of February 1942, Zhukov’s advance was stopped by enemy resistance, he proposed breaking off the offensive and consolidating his positions. Stalin responded with the order: “Attack! If you have no results today, you will tomorrow; even if you achieve nothing except the pinning down of the enemy, the result will be felt elsewhere.”
At a meeting of the State Committee of Defense on January 5, 1942, Shaposhnikov, recovered from his illness and again serving as chief of staff, outlined the plans for an immediate, grand counteroffensive from Leningrad in the north to the Black Sea in the south. It was Stalin’s plan. “The Germans are taken aback after their defeat before Moscow. They have prepared badly for the winter. Now is the time to take the general offensive!” he said. Zhukov and others expressed misgivings. Stalin would not listen. He said he had discussed the offensive with Timoshenko, who was in favor of it, and he added: “We must pound the Germans to pieces as soon as possible so that they won’t be able to mount an offensive in the spring.”
An immediate counteroffensive on all fronts was an exceedingly bold undertaking. The official Soviet history of the war, written while Khrushchev was in power, was critical of this grand design without mentioning Stalin by name. It was overambitious. “The army still lacked the organizational experience and knowledge for an offensive operation on such a large scale.”
Stalin had overruled such criticisms at the meeting of the State Defense Committee. If the Army lacked knowledge and experience of mounting massive offensives, it had to learn now in the furnace of war. If the plan was overambitious, it was also a reflection of his leadership and outlook; he thought and planned on a grand scale. He was obsessed, too, with the need to drive his
commanders and troops to attack and to learn to crush the enemy. He infected them with his iron determination to clear the invader from Russian soil.
The counteroffensive brought results. On the Leningrad and Moscow Fronts, the Russian gains, although small in area, were important in relieving the two cities of immediate danger. The new lines were stabilized by the spring of 1942, and the Germans did not succeed at any time during the war in advancing beyond these lines.
As spring approached in 1942, Stalin and the general staff were convinced that the main enemy objective would be the capture of Moscow. Shaposhnikov urged Stalin to build up reserves by adopting a policy of strategic defense. Stalin agreed, but he could not desist from attack, and, indeed, he approved several major offensives.
Hitler had, in fact, decided not to renew his offensive against Moscow. His plan was now to attack to the north from the area of Kursk and then to drive eastward toward Voronezh. In order to mislead the Soviet High Command, false information was given out that the German spring offensive would be on Moscow.
In March 1942, Timoshenko put forward a plan for a major offensive against the enemy concentrated near Kharkov, with the objective of driving the enemy from the Ukraine as far westward as Kiev. Shaposhnikov and the general staff condemned the plan. Stalin nevertheless authorized Timoshenko to carry out as much of it as he could, using only his own resources. He overruled Shaposhnikov’s objections and asked if he really meant that they should stand still, waiting for the enemy to attack first. Zhukov sided with Shaposhnikov while stressing still that the one offensive should be undertaken by the West Front. Vasilevsky agreed strongly with Shaposhnikov, stating later that Stalin’s strategy involved a disastrous dissipation of forces. He wrote, “Many might rightly censure the general staff for failing to tell Stalin the negative consequences of his plans, but would do so only if they did not know the difficult conditions under which the general staff had to work.” He added that the lesson learned was applied with benefit in the following year at Kursk. Meanwhile, in the midst of conflicting views, a decision had to be taken. Stalin supported the attacking strategy and allowed Timoshenko to go ahead with his plan. It was a disastrous decision.
The summer of 1942 was to be a time of terrible defeats in the south. After the capture of Kiev in September 1941, the Germans had swept eastward, occupying the whole of Western Ukraine, and most of the Crimean Peninsula, except for Sevastopol, which lay under siege. Stalin was eager to relieve Sevastopol. In March, he sent Mekhlis, head of the Main Political Administration of the Red Army, to the Crimea. He trusted Mekhlis, who was hated, however, by all Red Army officers, and especially for his activities during the purge. Arriving at the headquarters of Dmitry Kozlov, the front’s commander, Mekhlis at once replaced Tolbukhin, the front’s chief of staff, and according to Shtemenko, “true to his usual practice, instead of helping, he began capriciously to shuffle round other senior commanders and staff.” Instead of preparing defenses and planning to resume the offensive, Kozlov and Mekhlis “wasted time on lengthy and fruitless sessions of the War Council.” On May 8, the day of the German attack, Mekhlis sent a telegram to Stalin, beginning: “This is not the time to complain, but I must report so that the Stavka will know the front commander for what he is” and went on to state that the unpreparedness of the front was wholly Kozlov’s responsibility. Stalin had no time for such disclaimers. “You are adopting the strange position of a detached observer, who accepts no responsibility for the affairs of the Krimfront [Crimean Front],” he replied. “That is a very comfortable position, but one which absolutely stinks. On the Crimean Front, you - you - are no detached onlooker, but a responsible representative of the Stavka, responsible for all the successes and failures of the Front and obliged to correct errors by the command on the spot.”
Attacked by Erich von Manstein’s Eleventh Army on May 8, Kozlov’s Crimean Front was routed. A further setback was the surrender of Sevastopol on July 4, 1942. This followed only after savage fighting which cost the Germans 24,000 lives and even higher casualties on the Russian side. Rather than surrender, officers and kommissars committed suicide; and in the caves in the overhanging cliffs, the defenders, with the women and children taking refuge there, blew themselves up. It was a heroic, tragic defeat.
The failure of the Crimean Front and the surrender of Sevastopol infuriated Stalin. He recalled Mekhlis to Moscow, severely reprimanded and demoted him. Kozlov, two army commanders, and other officers of the front were not again entrusted with commands.
The German strategy was now to drive eastward. The capture of Stalingrad was not at this stage an objective, but Hitler demanded that his forces should reach the city “or at least control the area by the fire of heavy weapons.”
On June 28, 1942, Army Group South attacked, forcing a gap between the Russian Bryansk and Southwest Fronts, and moving rapidly toward Voronezh. The Germans met with stubborn resistance. But they did not press their attack on Voronezh, and, turning southward, moved down the right bank of the Don toward Stalingrad.
Replacement of the commanders of the Bryansk and Voronezh Fronts had become necessary. Discussion of the new appointments took place in Stalin’s Kremlin office. Vasilevsky, newly appointed chief of staff in place of Shaposhnikov, who had been finally incapacitated by illness, and Vatutin, his deputy, were present. It was at once agreed that Rokossovsky should take command of the Bryansk Front. Stalin rejected the names proposed for the Voronezh Front. There was a long silence as all tried to think of a suitable commander. Suddenly, Vatutin stood to attention. “Comrade Stalin, nominate me to command the Voronezh Front,” he said. Stalin showed complete surprise. “What, you?” he exclaimed, and frowned. Vatutin, a lieutenant general of artillery, had joined the Red Army in 1920 and had not held a command except briefly during the Battle of Moscow. Finally, breaking his silence and turning to Vasilevsky, Stalin asked, “What do you think?” Vasilevsky spoke up for Vatutin. After further thought, Stalin said reluctantly to Vatutin: “If Comrade Vasilevsky is satisfied with you, I will not oppose it.” Vatutin was to serve with great distinction as a front commander.
To the south, the enemy groups advanced rapidly. Timoshenko’s Southwest Front and Malinovsky’s South Front made hurried withdrawals to avoid encirclement. Stalin had learned from his mistakes of the previous year in ordering Soviet forces to stand fast at Kiev and Vyazma.
By the end of July 1942, the Germans had conquered the whole of the Donbas, the source of 60 percent of Soviet coal and the center of the southern industrial region. The loss of this region filled the nation with despair. The people had been told repeatedly after the Battle of Moscow that the enemy had been exhausted and that the Red Army would now go over to the offensive and drive out the invader. But still the Germans advanced, and now they were approaching Stalingrad. What appalled the Russian people most, however, was the news, which circulated rapidly, that at Rostov, Novocherkassk, and elsewhere, officers and men of the Red Army had run away when attacked, abandoning their weapons and equipment. Severe disciplinary measures were enforced. Many were shot for desertion or flight in the face of the enemy, and generals and other officers were demoted and punished.
Strong criticism of the Red Army appeared in the press and was heard everywhere. The Army had always been held up as the pride of the nation, but now officers and troops were made to feel the bitter disappointment of their countrymen whom they had failed. At the same time, while there was a general call for iron discipline and sacrifice, strenuous efforts were made to raise the status of officers and to appeal to their honor and patriotism. The need to build up a corps of officers, carefully selected and trained, who could give leadership, was constantly in the forefront of Stalin’s mind. The Orders of Alexander Nevsky, of Suvorov, and of Kutuzov were instituted as decorations for officers only. The old revolutionary ideals of officers and men being equal comrades and of soldiers’ committees running the Army had long ago been discarded. But on October 9, 1942, Stalin took the step of abolishing th
e system of dual command whereby the political kommissars countersigned the commanders’ orders. Kommissars were warned against indiscriminately shooting troops for cowardice or disobeying orders and were told to limit themselves to political work. The enforcement of discipline was a matter for officers, not for kommissars. The relationship of officers and men was now based on the best traditions of the tsarist army.
In the midst of the exhortations to officers and men to fight to the death in defense of their motherland, Stalin’s Order of the Day - “Soviet Soldiers! Not a step back!” - made a deep impact. The order was read out to the troops on all fronts. Ilya Ehrenburg wrote: “It was not about decorations but about the indisciplined abandoning of Rostov and Novocherkassk, about confusion and panic; things could not go on like this; it was time everyone came to their senses. ‘Not a step back!’ Never before had Stalin spoken with such frankness, and it created an enormous impression. A Red Star war correspondent said to me: ‘A father tells his children; ‘We are ruined; we must learn to live differently now.’ There was neither irony nor admiration in the way he uttered the word ‘Father’; it sounded like a plain statement of fact.’”
A new Stalingrad Front was created on July 12, 1942. The German advance continued, but more slowly as Russian resistance stiffened. Early in August, forces from Army Group South reached the outer defense ring of the city, and ten days later, the German Sixth Army, commanded by Friedrich Paulus, was ready to cross the Don. By August 14, 1942, the whole of the territory within the Don bend was in German hands, except for isolated Russian bridgeheads in the north. German forces were now advancing on Stalingrad from the south, the northwest, and the north.
At this time of crisis, Churchill arrived in Moscow for his first meeting with Stalin. He had made the journey primarily because he felt a duty to give the news personally that there would be no second front in the west in 1942. “It was,” he wrote, “like carrying a large lump of ice to the North Pole.” He was also keenly interested in meeting Stalin and visiting “this sullen, sinister Bolshevik State.”