by Eric Meyer
“If you think I am impeding your duties, feel free to make a report and I will attach it in my next report to the Reichsfuhrer, Doctor. He has a personal interest in this affair. Perhaps you would prefer this to be a Gestapo investigation, you could of course suggest that to him.”
The surgeon had tried to bluff it out, that was clear. Equally clear was that his mind had worked through the various possible outcomes of non-cooperation, he quickly backed down. The Gestapo was the trump card. Generalleutnant der Polizei Ernst Kaltenbrunner was both head of the Sicherheitsdienst and the Geheime Staatspolizei, as every member of the SS well knew. It was well within von Betternich’s power to call in the Gestapo.
“What do you want to know, Major?”
“You have had time to look at those reports, my question is simple. Were they all killed in a similar manner, a bullet from a Kar 98?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact they were. It was partisans, of course. They are known to use our own weapons against us, it’s nothing new.”
“Yes. Doctor, describe for me how you believe the Colonel was shot.”
“It’s only guesswork of course.”
Von Betternich nodded.
“I would say that he was shot from behind, probably at quite long range, none of his soldiers saw who shot him so the shooter must have been quite some distance away. The Colonel would have been going forward. The marksman was armed with a Kar 98, positioned in a slightly elevated position from Brandt, perhaps in a tree or on top of a vehicle. He fired, the bullet angled downwards and hit him from behind and went straight into his heart, where it lodged in the ventricle, as you already know. Had the shot been from closer range, the bullet would almost certainly have gone straight through him and we would never have recovered it.”
“And the other senior officers who were killed?”
“Yes just the same, remarkable really, an amazing coincidence.”
“That the shooter identified and killed all of the officers from a similar distance in a similar way with a similar gun?”
“Indeed, yes, well...” he tailed off.
“Thank you, Doctor. Write everything up you just told me and send it across to my office. Hoffman, we’re leaving.”
He limped away and we hurried after him. “Where to next, Sir?”
“Get the Kubelwagen and make sure it’s clear of any explosives. We’re off to SS Der Fuhrer Headquarters to speak to Standartenfuhrer Stettner.”
Voss and Mundt checked the Kubi over thoroughly, someone was obviously serious about us not finishing this investigation and their inspection was meticulous. Finally they said it was clear of any explosives or booby traps and we drove away to find the temporary HQ of Der Fuhrer Regiment. Like us, they were Panzer Grenadiers attached to the Das Reich Division of the First Panzer Army. The Regiment was settled in a small village about five kilometres from Deutschland HQ, if the Russian artillery barrage hadn’t started we might have reached there in less than ten minutes. Instead, we had only driven a kilometre before we were pinned down as both sides exchanged artillery fire. About half a kilometre away I could make out the dark grey shapes of some of our tanks, the Second Panzer Regiment were laagered just inside the tree line of a nearby wood, clearly the Russians were aiming at what they assumed was their location. Instead, they found us.
Voss drove the Kubi off the road and into some trees. We scrambled out and dove into the nearest shell hole as more rounds whistled in and landed nearby. They fell all through the wood, trees splintered to matchwood as shell after shell destroyed the ancient trunks that gave us our shelter. Von Betternich was next to me, looking with interest towards the bright flashes that lit up the Russian positions as their guns fired.
“They don’t know their business, do they?” he said to me.
“Sir?”
“They’re hitting the wrong trees, Hoffman, obviously they wanted to hit the tanks in that wood over there.”
I could see our Panzers, they had started up, smoke pouring from their exhausts and they moved off in formation towards the enemy.
“Perhaps someone saw our Kubi and mistook it for a staff car,” Mundt said. “They watch out for things like that, the Russians are not all that stupid.”
“Nor that clever, Mundt, they’ve missed the tanks altogether,” I replied.
Our Panzers went into action, we could see the explosions as they fired their main guns at the Russians and the artillery barrage slackened as the gunners took shelter from the deadly barrage. Our own artillery stopped firing altogether to avoid hitting our tanks. We couldn’t see anything now, just flashes of fire and smoke everywhere, a thick fog, deafening explosions and the chatter of machine guns. Then the first of our tanks came back, racing out of the far wood, heading straight towards us, swerving to avoid the Russian anti-tank fire.
“Let’s go,” Mundt shouted. Before I could protest, he and the men almost threw von Betternich and me bodily into the Kubi and Voss was driving away at speed.
“Scharfuhrer, what the hell is going on?” I asked, when I finally had time to get over the shock of being manhandled by my own men.
“Russian counterattack, Sir, they’re coming this way,” Mundt gasped.
The Kubi rocked on its springs as Voss flung it along the track and then braked to a halt.
“Russian artillery, they’re covering the road, we can’t get past them.”
We could see the guns, they’d rushed them up on the flank of their T34s, it was obviously an ambush. A shell whistled overhead.
“They’ve seen us!” Beidenberg shouted. “I can see one of their soldiers pointing at us.”
Another shell whistled past and exploded in the trees.
“Voss, turn around man, hurry,” I snapped.
He flung the Kubi around and hared back the way we had come. Ahead and to the side of us, our Panzers were still racing away from the enemy.
“Very clever, don’t you think, Hoffman?”
“If you say so, Sir.”
Von Betternich was watching the enemy action with keen interest. I wished that he would put his brain to work to find us a way out of this, we were in serious trouble and it wasn’t even our fight.
“But I do say so, it’s a clever trap, the Russians caught our Panzers with their pants down.”
I didn’t reply, up ahead a group of T34s had almost reached the track, we were boxed in.
The Panzers just crashed into the trees in their headlong flight away from the Russians, their immense weight and power with the grip of their caterpillar tracks smashed a way through for them. Our Kubelwagen was a simple, two-wheel drive vehicle based on a Volkswagen saloon car. The off road performance was lamentable, but it was all we had.
“Into the trees, Voss, try and follow a trail that the Panzers have made.”
He threw the wheel over and we began bumping through the deep wood. He twisted and turned to follow the path blazed by the tanks, I thought we’d got away with it until I was suddenly flying through the air. I landed heavily, the Kubi was upturned in a deep gully concealed by foliage. The dip was no barrier to a Tiger tank but impassable for our vehicle. Von Betternich was lying on the ground groaning, at least he was alive. The others seemed unhurt, Voss, Mundt, Beidenberg and Merkel picked up the SD officer and carried him away from the wrecked Kubi.
“Down into the gully, quickly, the Russians are nearly on us.”
We scrambled down into the cover of the shallow ravine and hid in the foliage. The thundering of the T34s was awesome, diesel engines roaring, guns firing, machine guns chattering as they swept after our Panzers. One roared right over our position, its tracks carrying it like a portable bridge over the narrow ravine as it plunged on. Then another and another. Some had tank riders clinging grimly to their hulls, it seemed like a suicidal way to go into battle, probably it was. Then they were past in their frantic pursuit and the wood started to go quiet. I looked down at von Betternich.
“How are you, Sir? Have you been injured?”
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sp; He gave a tired smile. “I’m too old for this, Hoffman. No, I’m not injured, just a few bruises. Where are we?”
“Behind the Russian lines, Sir.”
We kept down in the shelter of the gully for over an hour, waiting for the last of the Russians to go past. Several stragglers came by, bringing up supplies, one unit dragging along a Maxim machine gun on its two-wheeled carriage. Then we were on our own. They were all looking at me, von Betternich was the senior officer but he deftly passed the ball to me.
“I’m just a policeman, Hoffman, I wouldn’t dream of interfering in military matters. I’m sure you’ll find a way out for us back to our own lines.”
I went a few metres away from them to clear my head and tried to think. In front of us, to the west, we had what had looked like a division of Soviet tanks. To the north, there were the Soviet anti-tank guns, dug into their position to support the tanks, behind us to the east was most of the Soviet army, several million men. The solution was obvious. I went back to them.
“We head south. The T34s were blocking us there but hopefully they’ve pushed on as part of the Russian advance. Voss, Mundt, can we get the Kubi operational again?”
They looked at me in shocked surprise. “But, Sir, it’s smashed, besides, how would we get it out of the gully?”
“You must have ropes, Voss. Isn’t there a winch attached to the front?”
“Well, yes, there is, but I doubt the engine will run.”
“Why not?”
He scratched his head. “It may run, I suppose.”
“We’ll try it, get the ropes and let’s try and get it out first.”
Fortunately, it had slewed around so that the front was facing us, they were able to fasten the ropes to the winch and the other end to a strong tree. They began winching and within ten minutes the wheels started to show above the edge of the gully.
“Wouldn’t it be better to walk back?” von Betternich asked me.
“We don’t know how far the advance reached, Sir. Suppose it was fifty miles to our new headquarters?”
“I see what you mean.”
The Kubi finally got onto level ground. It was bent and buckled in places but intact. We all heaved on one side of the bodywork and managed to right it. Voss pressed the starter and the engine fired immediately, they looked around with wide grins. Someone muttered something about Volkswagen engines, ‘take you anywhere’.
“Well done, men,” I told them. “Let’s get in and head back to the track, then we’ll turn south.”
Voss drove carefully through the wood, back the way we had come until the track came into view. I asked him to stop before we got into open ground and I went forward on foot with Mundt. It was a no-go. The Soviets had established an encampment within full view of the track, not much more than a kilometre from where we stood. They had already begun to pitch mess tents and even from this distance, I could smell food cooking. I felt hungry, wondering when we’d get our next meal. Mundt was licking his lips.
“Do we have any food in the Kubi, Sergeant?” I asked him. It should have been a routine mission, we’d not been part of any planned attack and there’d been no obvious need to bring supplies. That was then, now we were stuck out on the frozen steppes, behind enemy lines and getting hungry. Mundt shook his head. Well, we’d have to be hungry, it was quite simple. We walked back to the Kubi and I explained the problem to them.
“So that way is blocked, we have to go forward through the wood, we’ll follow another tank trail and keep away from any holes in the ground this time. Any questions?”
“Perhaps if we get the opportunity we should take a prisoner, Untersturmfuhrer? Find out where the front lines have moved on to?” von Betternich suggested.
“Yes, Sir, that’s a good idea. In the meantime, we’ll keep moving south west until we meet up with our own lines.” Or until we run into a Russian division of tanks, I didn’t add. We got into the Kubi and Voss drove away carefully, watching the forest ground for ditches and holes. We stopped once and Mundt cleared the bodywork from where it was fouling the rear wheel, it had been making a loud clanking noise. After that, it was quieter.
It took us an hour to reach the edge of the wood. In front of us, to the southwest was a small town, possibly a village, a regiment of Soviet tanks had stopped immediately outside. To the west was an area of unbroken steppes with no sign of movement, to the north were more low snow-covered hills and woods. There was no obvious sign of the enemy over there and we picked our way carefully in that direction. It was also the direction of Korenevo, our last regimental headquarters. We skirted the edge of the wood, several times Voss drove into the trees when aircraft flew over. Finally, I estimated that we were within three kilometres of Korenevo and still no sign of the enemy. It seemed incredible that the Soviets could have swept across the wide battlefield and swung away from our headquarters but I had to allow for the possibility that our HQ was still operational. While we were tucked inside the shelter of the trees, we all heard the sound of an engine coming towards us, I deployed the men out of sight. Von Betternich sheltered behind the Kubi while Voss stayed to guard the vehicle, Mundt sent Merkel and Beidenberg to our flank with the MG34 and then came with me to the edge of the wood. We saw the jeep moving slowly towards us, then it stopped, less than fifty metres away. It was an American Willys adorned with a red star, the Russians had been given hundreds of these by their American allies and when they fell into our hands they were highly prized. Unlike our Kubelwagen they were four-wheel drives and kept going in the snow and mud that was a constant hazard on the Eastern Front. The jeep had a driver and a single occupant, he looked to be a middle ranking officer but I couldn’t see his rank badges from where we were.
“Why have they stopped?” Mundt asked.
“Maybe to take a leak, Sergeant?”
I got out my binoculars and focussed on the jeep. The officer had his own binoculars and was looking west. While he did so, the driver was setting up a radio aerial, a complicated affair with several poles and guy ropes. On the back seat of the Willys was the radio, bulky and complicated looking with many dials and knobs. It was all too good an opportunity to miss.
“We need to take them,” I said to Mundt. “I’ll watch them, tell Voss and the other two to leave the MG34, we’ll start working our way through the trees until we’re close, then we can just surprise them.”
“No MG34? It could be useful if they see us coming.”
“We may be able to use the radio, I don’t want it shot full of holes.”
“Right.”
He crept away and was back minutes later with the men. I told them what I wanted and we started to creep through the trees towards the Russians. When we were abreast of them and no more than twenty metres away, we cocked our weapons.
“No shooting if you can avoid it, I want that radio.”
They nodded and we crawled slowly across the forest floor. Voss was covering us with the rifle he’d brought from the Kubi, if they spotted us he would try and hit them with well-aimed shots that would avoid the radio. However, when we reached the edge of the wood it was very undramatic, we jumped up, Merkel spoke to them in Russian.
“You are now our prisoners, put your hands up!”
The officer, who was a captain, looked at us in shock. We were well behind their lines, the last place he had expected to find a contingent of SS. His driver simply put up his hands and waited in that resigned way we’d found was typical of both the Russian soldier and peasant, as if they’d seen so much misery, what was a little more? Merkel and Beidenberg swiftly checked them and removed their weapons. Fortunately, the officer spoke some German, apparently there’d been something of a scramble to learn the language ever since we’d first invaded back in 1941. I heard the snap of a twig as someone approached and we all whirled around, but it was only von Betternich, limping forward to take a look. I addressed the captain.
“I wish to know how far your advance has taken you, where are your armies?”
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nbsp; Not the hero this one, he pointed straight across the steppes. “We’re camped about five kilometres in that direction, due west. Are you going to kill us?”
I couldn’t see how we could possibly deal with taking them back, but neither could I kill unarmed prisoners out of hand. I shook my head. “No.”
“What next, Hoffman?” von Betternich asked. “Is the radio useful to us?”
“I don’t think so, Sir. If the lines are only five kilometres away we could give our position away by using it.”
“And the prisoners? You know there is not enough room in our vehicle to bring both of them. We can hardly leave one of them here to raise the alarm. The officer could be useful, though.”
It was a difficult position, I looked across the endless steppes, hoping to see a sign of our troops but there was nothing only the village to the southwest, where the Russian tanks had halted.
In the end, I pumped the Russians for as much information as I could get from them. We tried the radio but were unable to raise our own people, perhaps they were on a frequency that the Russian set did not cover. I got the men to smash the radio and disable the Willys, Voss found a hammer and knocked a hole in the engine block and ripped out the wiring.
“It seems a shame, Sir, we could have used this vehicle back in our unit.”
“I’d sooner not re-enter our lines in a Soviet jeep covered in red stars, Voss. There have already been reports of our people firing on captured Willys jeeps that we’ve taken into service, we’re running enough risks as it is.”
“Yes, Sir.”
I smiled as he continued grumbling, but finally I was satisfied that the vehicle and radio were useless. We took the Soviets’ boots and weapons and the men tied the prisoners to the bodywork of the jeep with a length of fencing wire, I also got them to drain the petrol tank to give us extra fuel to get back. The prisoners would work loose eventually but I intended to be well clear of the area by that time. Von Betternich was sceptical.
“Your concern is touching, Untersturmfuhrer, I just hope it doesn’t get us killed.”