With Our Backs to Berlin

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With Our Backs to Berlin Page 24

by Tony Le Tissier


  I now asked about our companies up forward. ‘They will follow on later, but will first have to cover our withdrawal,’ Schäfer said. ‘You and the lieutenant can come with us, but your men will have to stay and cover our rear, or the Russians will get us from behind.’

  I did not like the idea of leaving without my men, and neither did the lieutenant, so I said to the battalion commander: ‘You alone are answerable for your companies, but I will not go one step from here without my men.’

  The lieutenant said the same.

  I went on: ‘So I will stay here until you have gone. No Russians will get you from behind.’

  ‘Oh no!’ said Schäfer, ‘I need you for your close combat experience in the break-out!’

  ‘And with whom am I going to break out, if not with my men?’ I asked. ‘With a crowd like this, virtually unknown to me, it will not work. They would run round me like a flock of sheep!’

  ‘I had not thought of it like that,’ said Schäfer. ‘As far as I am concerned, do as you like. As usual you have the last word!’

  I then gave orders to my Hitler Youths, who were standing there with their mouths wide open at this discussion. One of them was told to blow up the two remaining mortars immediately with hand grenades and to return as quickly as possible with the gunners. The lieutenant nodded his approval.

  The other one was told to go to our S-Bahn carriages and, if any of our men were there, to get them out with some excuse and send them back here. I used this ruse to avoid having the women and Volkssturm joining us in the break-out.

  Kurt Abicht explained to these Volkssturm men what we intended doing. They should discard their armbands and caps and become proper civilians again. I also persuaded my Hitler Youths to go back home. At least they would be held in their mothers’ arms once more, even if the mothers of those that had been killed cursed me.

  Then I thrust aside the quartermaster standing distraught outside his S-Bahn wagon loaded with supplies and forced my way in. I sought and found boxes of ‘Schokolada’ and threw them on to the platform, where some burst open, sending the cans rolling around. I looked for some schnapps and found some cases of ‘Aqua-Witt’, a brand sometimes issued to the common soldier as part of his rations, and placed two of them on the platform. Meanwhile my men had gathered round wondering what was happening. ‘Don’t ask too many questions,’ I said. ‘Take as much ‘Schokolada’ as you can, as it will be the only nourishment you get during the next few days. Then everyone take a bottle of schnapps, but only one! You can all take one gulp, but keep the rest in case someone is wounded, when it will help ease the pain.’

  They eagerly did what I said, as did the gunners. Then we set off. I led with my men. The torch batteries had all been exhausted, so I held a burning tallow candle in my hand.

  We found the right emergency exit from the tunnel and we climbed up into the open air without having taken a step in the wrong direction. We then went across to Friedrichstrasse Station, where thousands of people had gathered. Instead of just Waffen-SS as had been planned, there were soldiers of all arms of the service standing around waiting for the breakthrough to start, even women. Some were secretaries from government offices with their chiefs, but there were also officers with their wives on their arms, which would handicap them in any fighting.

  I am not sure of the exact time, but it must have been about midnight and everything was quiet at the Weidendammer Bridge except for the murmuring of the crowd. Our battalion had formed a circle and were discussing the situation. I kept apart, even though they wanted my opinion. There was no point. I had never been in such a situation before and my fighting experience was of no value here. The one-armed lieutenant was bored with it all. He did not feel himself bound to Mohnke’s orders, and said to me: ‘We will find our own way out. Good luck to you.’

  I wished him and his men the same, and they left. I saw him again twelve years later, for they did not get through and had to tread the bitter road to Siberia, where they spent the next five years.

  It was all too quiet for my liking, and that made me suspicious. Why was it taking so long? Time was not on our side, I thought. I took my HQ Section leader by the arm and we went up Friedrichstrasse. I had learnt not to do things without first making a reconnaissance, and here nobody was getting ready. We got as far as Chausseestrasse, about 780 metres up Friedrichstrasse without coming under fire. Had I been free to do so, I would have taken my men and gone there and then, and with Alfred’s local knowledge we probably would have got through without heavy casualties, but it was not my choice, I had to obey orders. The Russians did not appear to have noticed us and there could only have been some of their scouts in the neighbourhood.

  So we returned to our startpoint, where the discussion was still going on. I pulled the battalion commander out of the group and told him what I had observed. ‘Yes, yes,’ he said: ‘I have already realised that this is the weakest point where we will break through.’

  The biggest mistake here, however, was hanging around waiting for the leadership. The Russian scouts must have realised what was happening and passed the word. Friedrichstrasse seems to have been the boundary between the 3rd and 5th Shock Armies. Apparently their scouts must have established contact here and the gap was not closed until after midnight.

  Gradually the comrades from the outlying companies joined us. Whether they had been informed by runners, or just noticed that the battalion staff had gone, I cannot say, but one company commander knocked Schäfer down under circumstances I was not party to. The Reichs Chancellery people also began turning up at intervals, and from some comrades from the Führer Escort that I knew, I learnt something of what had gone on.

  Dismay and panic had broken out among the many wounded that could not come along and had no weapons left to shoot themselves with. Where one had been hidden, it was passed around until the ammunition ran out. Others begged the doctors, Professors Werner Haase and Günther Schenk to give them fatal injections, but they had none to give. Even the bandages were having to be washed and used several times over.

  After Goebbels’s ADC, Schwägermann, had set fire to the bodies of Goebbels and his wife, he had sprinkled petrol over everything in the Führerbunker and set it alight so that the Russians would not find anything worthwhile. This again caused panic as people thought the fire was due to sabotage, and the smoke made conditions in the bunker even worse.

  Apparently Mohnke himself had decided the composition of the groups that would leave the Reichs Chancellery at regular intervals. There had been no mention of a combined break-out, the situation we now had here. Whether this was intentional, or through misunderstanding, I have never been able to clarify.

  While we were waiting for Mohnke, he was already long gone with his group, which consisted of about fifteen people, whose names I was later given by SS-Captain Heinrich Mundt. Those that I can remember were: SS-Major Günsche (Hitler’s ADC), SS-Captain Klingmeier (Mohnke’s Adjutant), who had previously commanded the Training & Field Replacement Battalion of the ‘Leibstandarte’ at Spreenhagen, SS-Captain Mundt, previously divisional quartermaster of the ‘Leibstandarte’, Professor Dr Schenk, Ambassador Hewel (Foreign Office representative at the Reichs Chancellery), SS-Lieutenant Stehr (Mohnke’s liaison officer), Vice Admiral Voss (Naval representative at the Reichs Chancellery), Frau Junge and Frau Christian (Hitler’s secretaries), Frau Krüger (Bormann’s secretary) and Frau Manzialy (Hitler’s cook), plus a few officers from Mohnke’s staff and SS-Major Wahl, our new regimental commander, but I cannot be sure.

  The inclusion of four women in this group shows that Mohnke had no intention of leading the break-out from the front. Apparently he had promised Hitler to bring the women out safely, and in this he was successful with three of them who got through to the west, but the very pretty Frau Manzialy vanished without trace.

  As I learnt later, Mohnke’s group had taken the following route. They first sprinted across the open Wilhelmplatz to the Kaiserhof U-Bahn Station, along the tu
nnel to Mitte U-Bahn Station, from where they took the northbound tunnel under Friedrichstrasse, but when they reached the level of the Spree they found their way blocked by a closed bulkhead door guarded by two railwaymen, whose duty was to close the door after the last train had passed through at night. Although no trains had run for over a week, the doors were still closed and they refused to open them. Stupidly Mohnke accepted this and turned back to Friedrichstrasse U-Bahn Station and went along the embankment until they came to a footbridge. When one of the escort made to turn toward the station where we were waiting, Mohnke said to him: ‘No, not by Friedrichstrasse, all hell will break loose there soon!’ How right he was!

  Mohnke’s group removed the barbed wire blocking the footbridge and crossed the river. They then tried to find their way toward the Lehrter Station, but when they reached Invalidenstrasse, where SS-Captain Mundt left them, they took a wrong turning and went up Chausseestrasse as far as the Maikäfer Barracks, where they encountered some difficulties but were able to get away, finally reaching the Patzenhofer Brewery where they rested.

  Meanwhile, we were all waiting in vain for Mohnke. I went around the crowd and met some people I had not seen for years, but it was no time to chat, we were all too concerned with what might await us.

  Then at last there was some movement. A lone King Tiger tank rolled up noisily with a defective track. I crossed the Spree and stopped a short distance behind the barricade there, whose right hand side was open. Then a self-propelled gun and an armoured personnel carrier drew up side by side behind it. Next five armoured personnel carriers drew up and lined up behind the others. In the second one I could see a figure in a cap and overcoat whom in the darkness I took to be Mohnke. I was further convinced it was him when SS-Captain Schäfer ran up to the vehicle and spoke with him, but I was some thirty metres away and could not hear what was said.

  As I thought Schäfer would be leading his battalion out at the head of his men, I lined up behind the vehicles with my men. Then Schäfer ran back, banged on the door of the last vehicle and cllmbed in with his adjutant, SS-Lieutenant Krönke. Then Schäfer called out: ‘Rogmann! Do you need an invitation? Climb in!’

  I went up to the vehicle and said to him: ‘You don’t think I am going to drive off with you and leave my men behind, do you?’

  He started to say something, but I interrupted him with: ‘You can cross me off the list!’

  The door slammed shut.

  The officer I had taken for Mohnke was in fact SS-Major Ternedde, commander of the ‘Norge’ Regiment of the ‘Nordland’, and all the vehicles were from that division.

  It was not only that I did not want to leave my men behind, but also because of my natural infantryman’s reluctance to ride in those ‘mobile coffins’. Even if my men had not been there, I would not have gone with him willingly. Breaking through with those vehicles in street fighting is a really risky business that is only lessened when they are surrounded and protected by infantry, as it is so easy to toss grenades into them from above and turn them into mass graves.

  The armoured vehicles started moving forward and we formed up across the street beyond the barricade. The first rank consisted of machine gunners with their weapons on slings, all carrying fifty-round drum magazines. Apart from my machine gunner, I and my men followed in the second rank.

  The armoured vehicles speeded up. We followed in quick time, but could not keep up and soon lost contact. We then came under infantry fire from the windows of the buildings on the right of the street and all the machine gunners returned the fire, spraying the front of the buildings. The din caused by a hundred machine guns firing simultaneously was enough to burst one’s eardrums. Now tanks opened up on us from either side.

  My men, who had all taken a second swig from their bottles before setting off, were in the mood to face death. I had not taken a second drink, knowing the feeling of indifference that strong alcohol brings, for in this kind of situation I had to be able to think for these inexperienced men and be able to react like lightning.

  There was no sense of leadership in this mob. There were no responsible officers. My men only obeyed me because they knew me and trusted me. They had only to catch my eye and signal, for shouting was no good in this din, to follow my orders. Literally thousands of people were thrusting blindly forward behind us. I had never seen such a primitive form of attack, being used to an empty battlefield in modern warfare. This was utter nonsense.

  They were not just Waffen-SS behind us, and not just soldiers, but officers with their wives, even my former company commander SS-Lieutenant von Puttkamer with his heavily pregnant wife.

  Meanwhile we had reached the level of Ziegelstrasse on our right, which was now full of Russian tanks that must have been alerted to our impending breakout by their scouts. With our incomprehensibly long wait we had given them plenty of time to form up, although the tank had been able to slip through, if a bit damaged. But the self-propelled gun and one of the armoured personnel carriers had been shot up as the other armoured vehicles passed though, as I saw no other wrecks around.

  The Russians fired into our packed ranks as we stumbled forward without regard for our dead and wounded. My group was now in the lead. Then we came under fire from tanks in Johannisstrasse on our right, and the effect of high explosive shells bursting in our ranks was simply terrible. The advance came to a halt and thousands of people started streaming back. I had never seen such a fiasco.

  However, we did not go with them. It was obvious that there would be another attempt, so we vanished like lightning into the buildings on our left, where we were safe. As we had been out in front, no one could prevent us stepping aside as we did. We were in front because in an attack that is the safest place to be, as experienced front line soldiers know.

  So far my own men had suffered no casualties and were still sticking together. We waited for the inevitable second attempt, which was preceded by an armoured personnel carrier firing on all sides as it raced toward us, but it was only hastening to its fate, for it stopped and burst into flames, blocking the street for the other armoured vehicles following.

  As those on foot reached us, we jumped out to resume the lead. The street now lay full of dead and wounded, the armoured vehicles racing over them. While under cover in the buildings, we had met up with some experienced men from the ‘Nordland’ and even some parachutists. Enemy tanks appeared in front of us again and we tried to creep up under their fire to knock them out in order to get past, but fresh tanks appeared behind them from the right and sprayed those in front with machine gun fire, the ricochets causing heavy casualties among us. Practically the whole of my platoon was hit by this fire, which broke up the attack, sending the masses streaming back again.

  We pulled our wounded into the cover of the buildings and bandaged them up as best we could. I used my bottle of schnapps to pour courage into them. I realised that the whole business was hopeless. The Russians had been reinforced and when another crowd moved up they were slaughtered before my eyes.

  We did not take any further part in this massacre. I worked out that the leadership had driven off, abandoning us, so I owed them no further allegiance and must save my own life and those of my few remaining unwounded men. We had to leave our wounded behind, which made my heart bleed, for it was for the first time in this war. So I said farewell to them, encouraging them by saying that the opposing Russians were also front line troops and would not do anything to them. I told them to remove their SS runes and make themselves unidentifiable as Waffen-SS, to get rid of all their documents and paybooks, and then they would be taken to hospital and treated as normal Wehrmacht soldiers.

  Only two unwounded men remained, Alfred, my HQ Section leader, and a runner. During a pause in the firing we crept back to the Weidendammer Bridge together. I cannot describe the horror that lay on the street and increased with every attack.

  With my remaining men I found the Schlütersteg and crossed the Spree without coming under fire, for the Russians wer
e concentrating their efforts on Friedrichstrasse. We eventually reached the Lehrter Station, where one could see signs of the fighting that had taken place there, but no Russians. Once we got beyond the Nordhafen we headed north. My HQ Section leader knew his Berlin well and gave me good directions, but I still think that I could have found my way without his local knowledge. Wherever possible we went through cellars by means of the holes in the walls that had been knocked through as an air raid precaution, so that people could escape if their house was hit. This way we could go the whole length of some streets.

  Eventually we came to a police building, possibly the police hospital, as there were policemen on guard at the windows. So we gradually made progress. It was now daylight and at any moment a Russian patrol could emerge from a doorway or yard entrance, so I removed my medals and insignia, as did my comrades, making ourselves unrecognisable as Waffen-SS. We met up with some German soldiers, making their way one by one in the same direction as ourselves.

  Then we came across SS-Captain Mundt, who was alone. He was our divisional quartermaster with an office in the Lichterfelde barracks. It was a post he had held since 1934 and so he had never been in combat. Having once helped him with a job, he had always stopped to talk to me ever since. It was he who now told me what had happened to the Mohnke group, of which he had been a member. After they had crossed the Schlütersteg, firing had broken out in Friedrichstrasse after our first break-out attempt, whereupon Mohnke had commented: ‘Now they have caught it!’

  This comment had caused Mundt to leave the group and make his own way out. I told him that the senseless break-out attempt on Friedrichstrasse had cost my men their lives and that I felt responsible. I told him: ‘The Führer is dead and my oath to him over. In future I will pick my own superiors, whether they wear generals’ uniforms or not.’

 

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