He said: ‘I don’t think so. I have officer’s rank and only take orders from Colonel Lobeck.’
‘We can soon change that,’ I told him. ‘Lobeck is far off, but I am here with full executive powers. My Hitler Youths are trigger happy and, having just lost their comrades, are in the right state of mind. One gesture from me and you will be looking down their gun muzzles. But you can at least show me how these things work, and when you have helped me to secure the bridge, you can go wherever you like.’
‘Blowing a bridge without direct orders from Colonel Lobeck is out of the question as far as I am concerned. I wouldn’t do it even if you stood me against the wall.’
‘I too have no orders to do it, nor do I know our leadership’s intentions. I will only secure it so that we are not overrun by Russian tanks,’ I told him.
This made him more amenable. I summoned my comrades and we carried out two of the rockets and laid them in the middle of the bridge. Of course this was not the correct procedure, but I had no intention of getting involved in sapper tasks. If these things should blow up, I thought, they will not leave one stone standing on another. Under cover of my comrades, he prepared a fuse for me and secured it fast. He must have known something of his trade, for General Bokov describes in his book on the conquest of Berlin how their engineers had to work all day to dismantle this particular security device. In fact we did not blow the bridge, nor did our successors, and when I went there after the war I found it still intact.
I then took my NCOs and had him explain to them exactly how they worked, and how one primed them. As this chap took the right pieces out of the right corner without having to look for them, even the batteries that were needed to provide a weak electrical current to detonate the rockets, I said to my NCOs in his presence: ‘Isn’t it strange that this prophet knows where everything is without having to look for it?’ They laughed hollowly. One suggested throwing him into the Spree to feed the fish. When this ‘hero’ saw my NCOs looking at him angrily, he began to stutter fearfully. So I said to him: ‘Get lost before I change my mind!’
We then carried out one of the rockets, which took eight men, and set it up against the wall of the embankment, ready for firing. Having discussed it with my men, I wanted to carry out a trial shot. The forward observer climbed back up to the roof, as this was the tallest building far and wide.
I ignited the rocket while my men took cover. It howled off like a fiery comet and fell in our old target area, as our forward observer reported when he came down again. Now we could see the cloud of dust from ground level. The Russians would have wondered where this monster came from.
Naturally I took care not to set off any more of these monsters. We had enough experience of the Russians not to let them trace them back to us.
However, as far as the bridge was concerned, I would not have hesitated to blow it for a minute if immediate danger threatened. I had no intention of letting ourselves be overrun by tanks.
Then my Hitler Youths came up with the idea of going forward again to recover and bury their comrades. Some sympathetic Volkssturm men accompanied them and I sent my machine gun section to provide them with cover, but I did not go myself as I knew what the outcome would be. How could one find earth to bury the remains in that rubble waste?
And that is exactly what happened. They returned unsuccessful, having only been able to recover a few identity cards and personal possessions from the dead children. The Volkssturm men, many of whom had not seen active service, had never seen anything so terrible and were deeply shocked. Several had nervous breakdowns, but the youngsters became even harder and led them away.
I told the Volkssturm commander to leave a couple of runners behind and take his men to the Reichs Chancellery and wait my call. Should I eventually require more mortar bombs or just need their help, I would let him know. I certainly did not want to use them for defence with their quaint rifles and sparse ammunition.
I then had a whole batch of rockets carried out and set up along the walled river embankment ready for firing. They were set almost vertically so as to aim at the street on the opposite embankment. This meant them exploding only 150 metres from us, so I had the shot-up remains of our telephone cable, which we had reconnected together, used as extensions of the ignition cables. Then I had everyone, including the defensive screen, take cover some distance back and lie in wait for whatever was to come. Although it was quiet where we were, thunder and lightning continued to come from the Schlesischer Station area.
I was surprised not to have received any messages or new orders from Mrugalla. At first he had cried out for heavy weapons and now he seemed to have forgotten us. I think that he had already withdrawn a little toward Alexanderplatz. As I later discovered, he had meanwhile been injured in the arm, but remained with his troops like a good soldier.
We had to wait quite a long time before it came to shooting again. It was evening and already beginning to go dark when a dozen Russian tanks came along the street on the far bank from the east, having gone round the Schlesischer Station, and headed toward Alexanderplatz. This was the moment we had been hoping and waiting for.
Unsuspectingly, for no one was firing at them from the flanks, they slowly rolled forward into the trap. When I thought that they had reached the right point, I fired the rockets, which howled down on their targets, striking them and turning it into a frightful fiasco for the Russians. Some of the splinters even came across the Spree. Several tanks must have received direct hits, as they split apart like soap boxes, increasing the overall effect. One tipped over into the Spree and the water gurgled over it. Some that had been driving next to the exploding tanks either simply tipped over or were slammed against the S-Bahn structure as if they were toys. All had been knocked out. A few crewmen bailed out and tried to escape crouched down and crawling out of the field of fire. We let them get away so that they could report back what had happened to them.
An unusual silence fell. We withdrew and took cover in the cellars, as I was afraid that the storm would descend upon us again, but nothing happened. I can only assume that the Russian forward observers had been unable to identify where the rockets came from. That we had had the audacity to fire at such short range probably did not occur to them.
When we realised that we were not going to be punished, we carried out some more rockets but set them up at another location aimed at the station area. There one could shoot wherever one wanted and be sure of hitting a Russian target, but I was cautious about firing them, for at night the after glow that the rockets trailed behind them was visible for miles.
How the Reichs Chancellery discovered that we were firing these rockets, I have no idea, but suddenly a convoy of trucks drove directly up to us in the night. Accompanying them was SS-Second Lieutenant Triebes, who brought orders for us to load as many rockets and their equipment as possible and take them to Potsdamer Platz. He had also brought the Volkssturm along with him.
IN ACTION AT POTSDAMER PLATZ
We loaded as quickly as possible, our mortars and ammunition too. Then we climbed aboard the trucks and the Volkssturm followed behind on foot.
Thank goodness we had not come under fire while loading, or we would have been blown to smithereens. A sergeant and some men remained behind and detonated the rockets that we had previously set up as soon as we had gone some distance, and they were able to catch up with us before the Soviets retaliated.
The rockets and our equipment were unloaded at Potsdamer Platz and taken below ground to the upper level of the S-Bahn station. The Volkssturm men that had followed us and then helped to unload I ordered to occupy two S-Bahn carriages on the lower level, where I reserved a carriage for my men and the last four of our Hitler Youths. I myself was hardly to use the accommodation at all, as much work awaited me.
Four Red Cross nurses appeared and offered to tend our wounded in the forthcoming fighting, an offer I gladly accepted.
Then I had trouble with our four remaining Hitler Youths. As I had
no task for them for the moment, they stood outside our S-Bahn carriage, which was near the entrance to the Potsdamer Strasse tunnel and starting accosting ‘stragglers’, having simply adopted the role of military police.
While the real military police were handing these ‘stragglers’ over to us to feed into our front positions, these young policemen were briefly asking: ‘Where are you going? Where do you come from?’ Whoever was unable to give a thoroughly satisfactory explanation was being shot out of hand.
We had no intention of doing such a thing. When I say ‘we’, I refer to my battalion commander, who was in charge here. As was his way, he was doing nothing about the coming and going of the numerous ‘stragglers’, who could only be described as ‘stragglers’ because they did not want to fight any more. These people lived in the tunnels and only emerged when driven out by hunger or thirst, when they would try to meet their needs in the S-Bahn stations.
Now when one of my men stormed up to me and angrily reported what these military police were up to, I went down with my NCOs. We disarmed them and gave them a dressing down. What could we do with these kids? Shoot them? Of course I could understand that it galled them that most of the soldiers no longer wanted to fight. I felt the same. But they did not have the motto on their belt buckles like us.[49] So I chased the four boys away and shouted after them: ‘Don’t let me see you here again!’
They looked at me as if they could not understand me or the world any more. But it was no use, for our paths crossed again the next day. Having come from an area already occupied by the Russians, they did not know where to go, and promised to behave, but I had to stress to them that my orders were sacred and must be carried out instantly and zealously. I did not give them their weapons back, but there were plenty lying around that those tired of war had thrown away, so they were soon able to rearm themselves.
However, what pleased me was that we were immediately taken on the ration strength, including my supply train, which had not previously been the case. Until now we had only been on stand-by or fighting. What kind of leaders were these that never thought that their men had to be looked after! While I helped myself shamelessly to the battalion commander’s standing table of sandwiches, my men carried their share into their S-Bahn carriage.
Now the real military police started combing through the tunnels and bringing the ‘stragglers’ to us to be fed into our front line trenches.
Then the battalion commander came to me and said: ‘You only have two mortars now, apart from the rockets, of which you have not fired one. You are hardly overloaded.’
Not knowing what SS-Captain Schäfer wanted of me, I said: ‘Then send me forward, and if you are short of a company commander, I will gladly take over, even a platoon will do for me. That would suit me much better than this job here.’
‘Oh no!’ said Schäfer, ‘since your rocket action at the Jannowitz Bridge you have become a well known and respected person. I would be in trouble if I took you away from your post, which was not what I meant. Apart from this, between ourselves, the adjutant has brought back from the Reichs Chancellery the news that you are to get the Knight’s Cross for that action, and also be promoted for your bravery.’
‘And what happens then?’ I wanted to know. ‘Come on, spill the beans! Every day I have to take the stragglers rounded up by the military police forward to the various company commanders. Even though there are officers going about without proper jobs, a sergeant major has to be detailed as Duty Officer!’
Schäfer thought about this and then said: ‘If it hots up outside, these administrative types will be formed into a shock troop, something they have never done before. There are none among them that can replace you, so I will continue to pass on the stragglers to you to fill the holes in the front line.’
So I handed over the command to my senior NCO and set off with the stragglers.
THE DEATH OF SS-COLONEL ANHALT
Early on 25 April our regimental commander came to Potsdamer Platz wanting to speak to SS-Captain Schäfer. With him was his liaison officer, SS-Second Lieutenant Triebes and his driver, SS-Corporal Masbender. They left their staff car up on the square.
When he saw our rockets stacked around and some we were setting up ready for action, he came up to me. I reported to him and he began talking to me about our Alexanderplatz-Schlessischer Station operation, congratulating me. I did not approve of the Mrugalla’s battalion operation and told him so. When it came to the Russians and the unguarded bridges in the city centre, I said that heads should roll. He gave no indication of how much he knew of Mrugalla’s action or of whether he approved, for a regimental commander does not have to explain his thoughts and plans to a mere platoon commander, but I could see that I had caught his attention.
He was impatient and ordered me to accompany him immediately to Alexanderplatz to clarify my accusations. This set my ears burning for having opened my mouth so freely. When commanders argue among themselves, sergeant majors are likely to end up crushed between the millstones. However, I had to follow Anhalt, who did not even go down to see Schäfer, for everything was quiet here. I gave my deputy a wave to indicate that I was going off with Anhalt and hastened after him. I sat down in the rear seat next to SS-Second Lieutenant Triebes.
What neither I nor my regimental commander realised was that the Russians now had the heavy siege artillery ready to fire on the city centre. They would not need many targets, as they could not miss in the city centre. Each shot would be a direct hit, whether on German soldiers or innocent civilians. The buildings would collapse like houses of cards, the roofs of the S-Bahn and U-Bahn tunnels would be broken and numerous people killed by these super shells.
Meanwhile we drove via Hermann-Göring-Strasse, past the Brandenburg Gate, which was barricaded up so that we could not pass through, and stopped in Kleine Mauerstrasse between the Unter den Linden and Behrenstrasse, as Anhalt did not want to travel so openly to Alexanderplatz when the shells started landing. I too was happier on foot and going through tunnels, as it had become very risky. So I left them and went ahead to warn Mrugalla of our arrival.
When we got to the Police Presidium, the adjutant sent off a runner to get Mrugalla. As the others failed to appear, I went back to see what had happened to them.
I found Anhalt lying at the place where I had left him. A large shell splinter had penetrated his lungs from behind, killing him. His escort seemed to have disappeared.
Instinctively, I removed his papers, decorations, etc. and went off to get a stretcher and assistance, as one cannot leave an SS-Colonel lying around like a simple soldier. So I ran back under shell fire to the Police Presidium and got two men and a stretcher, but when I returned both Anhalt and his staff car had gone.
I returned to the Police Presidium and reported to SS-Captain Mrugalla, who had arrived in the meantime, and told him that now one of the two battalion commanders would have to take over command of the regiment. I also gave him Anhalt’s effects.
There was nothing else for me to do there, so I set off back, but via the Villa Goebbels in order to clarify the matter of Anhalt’s death.
I discovered that Anhalt had already been buried in the garden. The two escorts had already left, presumably to the Reichs Chancellery to collect SS-Major Wahl, who was now our regimental commander.
Wahl had a completely different background to the two battalion commanders, for he had been a unit commander and holder of the Knight’s Cross in the 5th SS-Panzer Division ‘Viking’, but I did not know him myself. However, it was through this change in commanding officers that my promotion and award of the Knight’s Cross fell through, not that it bothered me.
As I was returning to my troops via Leipziger Strasse, a mortar bomb, whose approach I had not heard, exploded in front of me on the roadway. A fragment hit me in the throat, blocking my airpipe so that I could hardly breathe. I crawled, for I did not have enough air to walk, back to our field hospital in the Hotel Adlon. There everything was overcrowded with the wounded
lying on top of instead of alongside each other. The splinter was removed, my throat bandaged up and luckily I was also given an anti-tetanus injection. I left quickly, depressed by so much misery.
When I returned to Potsdamer Platz, the work went on. The Potsdamer Strasse entrance had received a direct hit from a heavy shell, which had destroyed the concrete steps and exposed the earth below, making it ideal for setting up our mortars. We could now fire our high trajectory weapons safe from all but a direct hit.
The battalion commander came along and said that we should start using our rockets. that was why we had brought them. ‘But where?’ I asked him, for it was stupid demanding something like this. There was no concentration of enemy tanks to aim at such as we had had at the Schlesischer Station. There were only the weasly enemy scouts around that were becoming ever more cheeky as they wriggled their way through our thinly manned positions. Every runner emerging into the open was being shot at, as happened to me when I was returning from taking out stragglers to the forward positions. I was a dead shot and picked off a small group of scouts with my captured sub-machine gun. I asked a survivor: ‘What interests you here?’ and got a surprising reply. These Russians had the mad idea of capturing Hitler, whom in their innocence they believed was hidden somewhere around here. They had come to collect him and fly him back to Stalin, who would award them with a medal and send them home on leave. We could only laugh at this simplicity, as if the bodyguards would allow anyone to get near to Hitler. They would rather let themselves be hacked to pieces first.
But others too had silly ideas. Grand Admiral Dönitz, for instance, sent some specially selected sailors to Berlin to guard Hitler. When they landed at Gatow they were immediately brought to the Reichs Chancellery, but what could Mohnke do with them? There were enough guards there already, apart from the SD. So Mohnke sent them to the Reichstag to fill the gap that the Russians fortunately had not discovered. Unfortunately these sailors were not adequately equipped for combat, having come from an honour guard and a radar school, for it was thought that they would be only used as an honour guard at the Reichs Chancellery. However, despite the senior ranks of the naval officers accompanying them, they subordinated themselves to SS-Lieutenant Babick, who had had combat experience under Joachim Peiper, even though he had nothing higher than an Iron Cross First Class.[50]
With Our Backs to Berlin Page 21