The officer addressed the group in a low voice, the condensed air escaping from his lips as he spoke, ‘I think we shall continue along the lake for a while…we will be safe from the Russkies in this cold. I think they will not venture out or if they do, not to the lake’s edge where it is colder.’ He paused, coughing slightly, the cold catching in his throat, ‘Tatu has told me of a fishing lodge some distance away and I think it best we rest there for the day ahead. This is colder than I imagined and draining our strength.’
Hausser looked slowly round the group, his eyes red from the frost. In response, the men slowly nodded, realising they had now a limited time in these elements before exposure began to set in.
The young commander continued, ‘It will be dangerous staying in the fishing lodge for the day, but I think we have no choice…if we stay out in the cold we will be finished. We will continue northwards at late afternoon or dusk. Come…let’s move before we freeze to death here.’
The group of soldiers turned and began to trudge slowly northwards. Hausser hesitated, indicating to Hase to wait with his hand. Turning to him, the officer’s voice was now a whisper, ‘Young Hase, keep a watch from the rear…if someone looks unsteady call me. They will be very cold now so I will try and keep their pace up. Time is short.’
He nodded grimly in response to the instruction, knowing the commander was becoming concerned for their safety. Hausser nodded once, acknowledging his acceptance and turned to join the soldiers, both men joining the group a small distance away.
As commanded, he fell to the back of the group, his rifle in his gloved hands across his chest. He sensed the light breeze from the lake, realising he could no longer feel the lower temperature, his body was already too cold to acknowledge any change.
The view over the lake was distorted, a low mist forming above the ice…it would be thicker by dawn and he considered they must have perhaps three hours of darkness left. Across the lake he could hear a faint cracking as the ice shifted with the temperature, the noise initially unnerving as if existence itself was being strained to breaking point in these temperatures. To him the sheer beauty of the sky was now eclipsed by its vicious and lethal clarity in this cold.
As they trudged along the bank, he realised the soldiers were now like deep shadows against the snow and landscape in the moonlight, the bitter cold and their experiences seeming to have sapped their resolve. They seemed slower, more hunched in stature than before. The exposure to the elements and the attrition of the previous day had taken its toll, they were now physically and mentally exhausted.
Chapter Seven: The Frozen Embankment
They had been progressing north for almost 45 minutes along the embankment. The cracking and splintering of the ice as it settled in the severe temperatures the only sounds to accompany their trek. The pace of the soldiers had now reduced considerably in the severe conditions and each man’s body core temperature was now slowly slipping in the bleak environment.
A slight breeze swept across the men from right to left as they progressed, carrying with it the chill off the ice, the low temperature from the lake dropping even further with this wind chill. Occasionally this would move the looser flakes of ice on the surface as they moved slowly through the terrain, the surplus dancing across the lifeless surface.
The temperature was now so crisp that the soldiers’ exhaled breath hung in the air, swirling as Hase walked through it as he followed the main group. The rasps of the men’s breathing through their frozen scarves and thickening layer of frozen condensation on their uniforms now evident under the moonlight and breathtakingly sharp lights from the stars. The group having now gradually drifted closer together as if for collective warmth or emotional support in the bitter temperature.
The landscape was only interrupted by the occasional frozen bush or tree, with the terrain offering no cover from the elements other than the slight decline down to the lake. Some distance to their left was the side of a ravine dropping to the decline, but this did nothing other than capture the colder air within it, creating an insurmountable barrier for the cold air around the lake.
Hausser had initially attempted to sustain conversation along the frozen water’s edge, but this had proven ineffective as each man began to withdraw mentally into their own individual solitary world. The answers to the young commander’s questions becoming shorter and shorter until individual men simply did not comprehend that the question was targeted at them.
The young officer had therefore resorted to a different approach, spurring the men on collectively with promises of the ‘buildings not being far’, ‘the group stopping to rest for a day’, ‘that they could light a fire and become warm’ and that ‘that would cook warm food when they arrived.’ This produced no external response, but he knew the men would perhaps acknowledge his words and gain some resilience from the encouragement in the short term.
Inwardly, Hausser was becoming increasingly concerned. He pushed himself to observe each man individually and all the signs he had experienced the previous winter before Moscow were returning. The solemn, withdrawn emotionless faces, the slowing and then negligible responses, the seemingly glazed expressions in the men’s eyes all lead him to believe they were slowly beginning to lose body temperature. This, coupled with their exhaustion, would slow their progress and expose them further to the elements as it took longer to reach their destination.
The commander observed that even the Romanian quartermaster was beginning to struggle. He had initially assisted by declaring the stores of smoked fish and bread at the Fishing Lodge would be more than sufficient to fill their stomachs for days. That there would be a warm fire and alcohol for their enjoyment. But now he too had become withdrawn, concentrating on supporting Petru who seemed to have developed a slight limp, dragging his right foot. Hausser hoped this impediment was in the Romanian’s mind and not the onset of frostbite.
As the small group struggled northwards, Hausser realised that if they were attacked now they could offer little resistance as the men would struggle to react immediately, their withdrawn minds in their frozen bodies unwilling or unable to process the danger until it was too late. He consoled himself that if his men were in this physical state due to the elements it would take a brave Russian commander to attempt to spur his men out into these temperatures, let alone order them to sweep the side of a lake where the temperature would be even lower.
The commander considered his men, determining, from his previous years’ experience, that at this time his stronger men seemed to be Hase and Udet. The younger body of Udet and experience of Hase providing a resilience able to recover more rapidly from the extremes placed upon them. The rest of the group were now just following on with Udet leading and Hase trudging behind them. Both soldiers were also showing the signs of exposure, but seemed more able to display signs of resisting the elements than the others.
The other four soldiers were walking together, beginning to draw closer to each other as a sign of combined comfort. Petru and the younger Romanian, Nicu, had both emotionally struggled the most with the previous day’s events and this had bound them together spiritually, but weakened them in these temperatures. Tatu had become attached to his countrymen’s plight and Meino was simply inexperienced to these temperatures and resisting them mentally.
Hausser dropped back to walk alongside Hase as the group slowly began to ascend a gradual slope, the frozen expanse of water slowly dropping away to their right as they progressed. As he drew close, he could see that the man’s gaze was firmly upon the group in front of him, the signs of an internal distance from events becoming evident. Keen to re-establish the soldier’s alertness, he prodded his right shoulder with his gloved left fist, ‘Hase?’
Hase had watched the young commander gradually fall back to walk next to him, but this had been slow to register in his mind, his vision set on the four men walking to his front. Their repetitive trudging drawing him into himself, a mental escape from the cold. The air around him seemed sti
ll, occasionally disrupted by a breeze off the frozen lake, the extreme cold no longer registering in his mind, his body numb to the elements.
He stumbled to his left, the action disrupting his line of thought, the pressure on his right shoulder almost causing him to lose his balance. He turned to his right, his mind confused, looking onto the covered face of Hausser. The man’s helmet was frozen white, with crystalized condensation all over his uniform. The scarf covering the commander’s mouth seemed frozen and the condensed air that pushed through it was disrupted as the man spoke to him. Then he heard him speak his name, ‘Hase! Wake up!’
‘S-Sorry?’ He hissed back, the words seeming distant, as if someone else spoke them.
‘Think hard…it’s me, Hausser. Come on man, focus.’ The commander seemed irritated with him, his eyes narrowing. He felt the officer grasp the front of his jacket with his gloved left hand, shaking him.
‘Y-yes I know.’ He stammered, ‘I was confused.’ He felt the cold sweep through his body as if jabbing him sharply. He looked into the eyes of Hausser, the commander seeming concerned for him. He could now see the officer blinking frequently, his eyes focused on him, his exhaled breath hanging in the air between them.
‘Good.’ Hausser retorted, ‘We need to get to the fishing lodge or some cover…or these men are finished.’ There was concern in the young officer’s eyes as he continued, the exhaled air being forcibly pushed through his scarf, his teeth gritted beneath the frozen cloth. ‘I made a mistake…I never thought it would be this cold. I-I should never have tried for so far at night.’
Hase shook his head, reality now seeping back into his mind, the cold intensifying in his body. His reactions sharpening briefly in the freezing air as the officer’s frustration and warning pierced his almost mesmerised state. He felt the commander drop his hand from his chest, observing him half turn from him, looking forward, to the north.
He followed his eyes, seeing the group had stopped a short distance ahead, with Udet beyond them, his outstretched arm indicating for them not to proceed further. Udet turned to face the group, and he could hear him hiss, ‘Hausser, kommen sie.’ The younger soldier’s outstretched hand indicating for them to join him, Udet then sank down on one knee in the snow, his gloved hands raising his rifle in readiness.
He followed Hausser as he trudged past the group of four other soldiers, observing the small group as they slowly turned to look at him passing, their expressions confused, reactions abnormally slow. The young commander lowered himself to a crouch as he approached Udet, responding to the soldier’s caution. He followed likewise, feeling the cold in his joints resist the action, complaining painfully of the strains placed on them.
Udet acknowledged them as they drew alongside. The young soldier’s breathing visibly more rapid from the rate of exhaled air surrounding him. He turned to Hausser, ‘Just ahead, sir. There are some buildings in the depression.’ Udet’s eyes were wide with excitement as he spoke, his demeanour seeming apologetic, ‘Sorry, I got nearly to the edge of the drop before it registered….I think I must have been distracted or something. There are lights in the main building, do you think the Russians are there?’
Hausser nodded, clutching his MP40 in his right glove tighter. ‘Let me take a look…you did well.’
As the officer moved forward carefully, half crouched, then lowered himself to a crawl, Udet turned to look at him, ‘Do you think they saw me, Hase?’
Hase shook his head, his eyes strained in incomprehension as Hausser replied on his behalf, ‘We would hear them if they had.’ Aware the young soldier had also probably displayed the same signs as himself, slow to react as he walked aimlessly northwards in this repetitive terrain. Startled, he realised that Tatu was now approaching from behind him, also half crouched, the quartermaster’s reactions gradually returning, his mental resistance rising.
Hausser was now lying on the edge of the depression, looking over at the collection of buildings that comprised the fishing lodge. The commander turned, looking back, indicating with his left hand for them to join him, but to keep low. The three men responded, moving a short distance crouched and then crawling the remainder of the distance to be alongside their officer.
As they drew alongside Hausser, they looked over the edge of the drop in front of them. They had now ascended a gradual slope and to the front of them lay the sides to another depression, within it the fishing lodge. The lights from the main building windows illuminating the landscape for some distance around the depression and out onto the lake, almost to the end of a small wooden pier. The other buildings surrounding the main dwelling lay in darkness with the exception of one smaller wooden outbuilding, smoke rising from its side chimney. Smoke also rose from a bigger chimney on the main building and they could clearly see movement within, with the distant noise of muffled voices emanating from the solid structure.
A thin mist was now slowly creeping in from the lake and beginning to seemingly grasp at the sides of the pier, a further cold embracing the wooden structure frozen firmly in the ice of the solidified water. A number of small wooden boats lay discarded around the large building and in the road that led off to the north where a number of discarded boxes indicated a hasty retreat by the previous occupants.
Hase squinted further, seeing light casting shadows across some other distortions in the snow. He strained his eyes until it dawned on him, there were also bodies around the building, the prone figures frozen in distorted death’s embrace in the bitter temperatures.
Tatu noticed these bodies also, his teeth gritting beneath his scarf at the sight. The quartermaster realised these bodies were probably his countrymen, ones he had spoken to just a few days earlier as he had scoured the area for some additional supplies for the ‘party’ with his German neighbours. The experience now seeming distant history of perhaps another world after their recent exploits and change of fortunes.
The four men watched, the silhouette of a man in the window facing their direction moved as he changed positions, the sentry’s attention now fully on the conversation around the open fire in the main hall. Hausser indicated as he observed a figure leaving the main building from the doors facing the lake, and they watched as the silhouette disappeared behind the structure before reappearing on the left side, heading in the direction of the outbuilding with smoke rising from its small chimney.
It was then Hausser spoke, his voice hissed through the frozen scarf, ‘Udet, go after the lone man, try not to shoot unless you have to, and not before we do.’ He studied the young soldier, observing him nod, ‘Go around the depression and come in from behind that building.’ He indicated to one of the outhouses to the left.
Udet nodded again and then crawled off to the left until he was sure he was away from the edge of the depression, then he rose to a crouched position and ran off half-crouched into the darkness.
Hausser turned to Tatu, ‘Make your way down the lakeside and cover the door to the water, Hase and I will make our way in where the sentry is. They do not seem to expect company in these temperatures.’
Tatu nodded and whispered in reply, his voice almost a sneer. ‘We are cold, they are in the warmth, that is their weakness…they will not escape from me.’ With this he turned and crawled away to the right, then rose to a crouched position, running back down the slope they had just climbed to enable himself to advance towards the lodge along the frozen lake’s surface.
Hausser turned to Hase, ‘Wait here, I will get the others to cover.’ With this, the young commander pushed himself slowly back from the edge and turned, crawling a short distance before rising and walking to the group of three soldiers, standing some distance away.
Hase watched as the commander spoke to them all and each man nodding slowly in response, their actions seeming lethargic and confused. He bit his lip, looking down he carefully pulled the bolt back in his rifle, checking there was a bullet in the chamber. The weapon seemed different from what he remembered before, but he realised this was due to the tim
e he had been carrying it and his emotional detachment from events. The metal seemed darker than before, the extreme temperatures and contrast with the snow enhancing his perception. He considered the stories he had heard of weapons jamming in extreme cold, of firing pins breaking at crucial moments…all of these factors a possibility in the current situation.
Hausser patted him on the shoulder, breaking his line of thought, ‘Time to move!’
He watched as the officer crawled to the edge of the depression and searched for something to hold before swinging himself over the edge, dangling briefly and then dropping to the ground a metre below, the landing sound muffled in the thick snow. He followed Hausser’s lead as the three other soldiers slowly took up position on the edge of the walls of the depression, spacing themselves a couple of metres apart, their instructions to cover a retreat should the enemy be too powerful.
He swung himself over the edge of the drop to the ground below, feeling the weakness in his arms as he dangled in mid-air, the cold of the temperature in his muscles fighting him. Letting go of the frozen overhang, he dropped into the depression below, a dull thud as he landed in the deep frozen snow. He moved swiftly a couple of steps, propelled by the drop and then crouched, joining Hausser concealed behind a large stacked pile of chopped logs to their front. The snow covered stacked wood a welcome concealment from any potential observers.
The officer considered that there could be no retreat, that these buildings were their survival. There was probably nowhere else for them to shelter and no energy remaining for them to make any journey if there was. This added to his determination, his mouth stiffening.
Hausser turned to look at Hase, his eyes raised expectedly. The soldier nodded, indicating he was ready, his rifle now held out in front of him. Hausser nodded once, looked down at his MP40 and pulled the bolt back. Hase noticed as the young commander took a sharp intake of breath, the rasp as the air was sucked through his scarf followed by a wheeze as the cold air entered the man. Then the officer nudged forward, glanced round the log pile in a final check of his path to the main building and ran out half crouched across the snow towards the exterior corner wall of the lodge.
Bloody Stalingrad Page 8