Bloody Stalingrad

by Andrew McGregor

  Bullets splattered on the walls and flew in the air around them as the vehicles picked up speed, with Albrecht and Tatu firing at the receding Russians over the back of the carrier. Tatu’s stomach churned as he saw the Russian armoured car turn to face them, its turret rotating slowly, then suddenly it was out of sight. Both soldiers being thrown slightly to their side as the vehicle lurched abruptly to the left into a side street, accelerating down the narrow lane.

  Smoke billowed from the buildings on either side in the narrow lane, obscuring their view and catching in the men’s throats. The deafening clatter of the tracks on the cobbled stones echoing across the close walls on either side.

  Several shells burst on the rooftops around them as the vehicles swiftly advanced along the cobblestones, the dust and debris falling onto the vehicles below. The soldiers lowered their heads and eyes as they progressed down the declining narrow lane that lead north, north towards the river.

  Chapter Twenty One: Close Enough to Touch

  The grinding screech that echoed across the walls down the narrow lane drew the attention of Albrecht and Tatu in the back of the second carrier. They stared back up the cobblestones, through the smoke and falling dust and their eyes widened. The Russian BA-10 armoured car had turned into the narrow street, momentarily skidding on the road and hitting the left wall, its metal hull grinding against the brick until coming to an abrupt halt, throwing its three occupants forward in their seats.

  Albrecht squeezed the trigger on his Kar 98 as he saw a figure emerge into the lane, the fourth crew member ducking behind his armoured car as the bullet ricochet off the wall next to him. More Russian infantry appeared through the smoke and Tatu fired a burst of his PPSH, the enemy jumping to either side upon glimpsing the muzzle flashes coming from the back of the receding carriers as they bounced down the lane.

  Tatu could hear the metallic clunks as his bullets bounced off the front of the armoured car, noticing the vehicle was attempting to reverse. The metal plate on the right side of the armoured car grinding against the wall, showering dust and brick fragments onto the front of the car as it moved slowly backwards.

  There was a flash from the armoured car as the turret gun fired, the vehicle’s movement preventing effective aim, but still causing the soldiers in the carriers to duck instinctively below their vehicle plate as the 45mm shell flew about a metre over their heads, hitting the buildings at the end of the lane. The armoured car ground against the brick trying to free itself, the engine screaming.

  As the carriers bounced down the lane, the buildings burning on either side, Hausser could see light ahead, the lane ending in a small square some twenty metres away. ‘Hase, turn left when we get to the square!’ The young commander shouted, grasping his MP40.

  Hausser saw the grim expression on Hase’s face as he nodded slightly, his eyes fixed on the light ahead, the carrier now approaching maximum speed. They could hear Tatu firing behind them as they were suddenly bathed in light, the vehicle lurching sharp left into a compact square, its brakes locking and the vehicle skidding sideways as they realised there was no exit road.

  The first carrier came to an abrupt halt, the second carrier skidded into the square behind it, nearly colliding with the first, but drawing alongside with a jolt. As the men jumped out of the carriers, Tatu leapt over the back of his vehicle and ran towards the corner, ‘I will hold them off, get into the buildings.’ He shouted over his shoulder.

  Hausser surveyed the square, a small turning point for vehicles or somewhere to park and unload their cargo, the buildings surrounding them were warehouses and possible factories. Their larger doors and lower windows for loading stock and goods with permanent overhanging wooden pulleys at some of the openings. Some low loading carts lay scattered across the square with a couple of wooden trolleys for individual workers to utilise left discarded by the larger doorways.

  To the south of the square was a larger open doorway and he made his way towards this, indicating to the other men to follow, the sound of a burst from Tatu’s submachine gun echoing round the square as he fired round the corner to delay the oncoming Russians.

  As he walked through the large doorway, a young Russian infantryman emerged from the darkness, approaching him from the back of the building, his rifle at waist height with look of confusion on his face, ‘We heard shooting…what’s going on, sergeant?’

  Hausser wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, considering the situation, then regaining his composure, he looked the young Russian in the face, ‘Fascist infantry are chasing us, they are dressed as Russians. Go, help hold them off whilst we get inside.’

  The Russian nodded and ran past the other men, confused by their surprised looks as he sprinted towards Tatu’s position at the edge of the square. Udet was the last to leave the vehicles, closing the corners of one of the blankets around the stack of German helmets. Noting the blood bathed side of the personnel carrier, he lifted his rifle onto his shoulder, grasped the last ammunition container and turned from the vehicles, lumbering the few metres to the open doorway.

  Hausser turned, indicating for the other soldiers to come inside quickly and hearing Russian voices above them through the wooden floor, the scraping of an object across the wooden planks. His voice lowered to a whisper as they gathered around him, ‘We have not much time now, so we need to keep moving.’ He looked around the large storage room, seeing the staircase the young Russian must have descended. The area was filled with large crates and grain bags, some scattering their contents across the dusty thick wooden floor boards, then he glimpsed a closed double door opposite, facing south…possibly an exit onto the next street.

  Machine gun fire echoed through the doorway from the square as Tatu fired another burst of his submachine gun down the lane. Hausser indicated to the barred door, his voice rising in desperation, ‘Open it!’

  Meino, Albrecht and Nicu immediately moved forward and started to push one of the doors, the light filtering in through the cracks as the door opened slightly outwards with a creek, its progress blocked by a body on the other side.

  Tatu ran into the building, gasping, a look of desperation on his face, ‘They are coming down the lane, there are too many of them to stop. Hausser…we need to be quick!’

  The young commander looked past the Romanian quartermaster out across the square and into the light, seeing the young Russian soldier lying slumped by the corner of the lane, his blood splattered across the wall. The shouts of the advancing Russian infantry echoed through the square, the revving of the armoured car’s engine now audible from the narrow street leading to the area.

  Udet, Petru and Hase began to take positions next to the opening facing the square, their faces grim with expectation. Udet opened the ammunition container at his feet, retrieving two grenades from within and pulling the pins, tossing them across the square. The grenades bounced across the cobblestones, coming to rest next to the body of the young Russian infantryman.

  Hausser could hear disturbances in the room above, the shouts of the Russians as they moved across the small workshop on the next floor. He looked into the eyes of Tatu next to him, the Romanian understanding his intent as he nodded, ‘I will watch the stairs Hausser…find us a way out.’ The older Romanian’s face was stern, his adrenalin rising further.

  The young commander turned and moved briskly to the double doors as explosions in the square behind him erupted. Placing his shoulder next to the narrow opening, he realised there was just enough space for a man to get through. Breathing heavily, he cautiously glanced out into the street beyond, looking to the left. The street was relatively wide but empty and stretched some two hundred metres to the left, bending gradually towards the river. Bullet pock marks covered the sides of the buildings, indicating the ferocity of the battle that had taken place as German and their allied troops had retreated northwards. Several bodies and discarded equipment lay in the street, signifying the battle that raged around them. The body of a horse lay some one hundred metres
further from him in the middle of the thoroughfare, beyond which a fire was burning in a shop on the other side of the road, the dark smoke billowing across the tarmac. He could hear shellfire and sporadic firing some distance away, perhaps further round the corner at the end of the street, his excitement rising as he realised the sound was from a German made machine gun.

  He glanced across, remaining in the narrow opening, seeing an entrance opposite leading into a small residential block some four or five stories high. A dead Russian soldier sat slumped in the doorway, his run across the street ending as the sniper’s bullet entered the left side of his head through his helmet. The body sat legs apart in the doorway, the man’s head drooped onto his chest, blood covering the tunic of his uniform and a dried pool around his legs on the entrance step.

  Hausser hesitated, considering the situation fleetingly, then the gunfire behind him spurred his decision making as Hase and Udet opened fire on the corner, an indication the Russian infantry had now reached the end of the lane. He heard the revving of the engine as the armoured car approached the corner and realised that time was now running out.

  He turned to Meino and Nicu, with Albrecht behind them, his face white with shock, ‘Get across the road now…cover the rest of us.’ Meino nodded once, slipping through the doorway and sprinting across the street before them, skidding into the entrance opposite. He dropped to a crouched position, his MP40 at the ready and glanced from side to side, indicating for the next man to follow with his right hand.

  Nicu slipped through the opening and ran across, half crouched, his rifle in his left hand. As he reached the building opposite, he slipped inside, his intent to secure the other side of the apartment block.

  The firing behind spurred them on with Albrecht slipping through the doorway and running after Nicu, his sprint to the other side broken as he leapt the last couple of metres, slipping past Meino and into the darkened building opposite.

  Hausser turned, hearing the whoosh of shells overhead and explosions to the right, ‘Come on, let’s go.’ He exclaimed, seeing Udet step into the light in the doorway, aim and fire out across the square.

  Udet turned with Petru and advanced towards him, their weapons lowered. The young commander watched as Hase reloaded and fired out across the square to the corner. Moving towards him, he realised the soldier was trying to give them time to escape. As he approached, he lowered to a crouch and drew next to him.

  Across the square, the Russians were gathering in the lane to rush forward, their shouts just audible above the approaching revving engine of the armoured car. As the front of the metal plate appeared beyond the corner, Hausser drew breath, realising time was becoming very short…perhaps too short.

  Glancing round, Hase saw Udet slip through the opening in the double doors and disappear out into the light, the young German struggling with his cumbersome load. Petru hesitated, turning to beckon Tatu who was half way up the stairs, his PPSH submachine gun pointed at waist height.

  Hase felt Hausser’s hand on his shoulder, the grip tightening, the commander leaning forward, ‘Time to go my friend…join the others. It’s my job to get you all to safety.’

  Hase turned, seeing the friendly smile form on the commander’s lips though his heavy stubble, the sadness in his blue eyes. Nodding, he scrambled upwards from a lowered position and ran back through the storage area, the fear and apprehension rising within him.

  Hausser raised his MP40 to eye height, glancing back briefly to see Hase reach the door opening as Petru disappeared outside. Tatu jumped from the wooden stairs, raising his left hand in salute to Hausser and turned, striding quickly to the double doors. Glancing outside, he indicated for Hase to go first, his eyes narrowing as the soldier shook his head. Frowning, the older Romanian slapped his shoulder and disappeared out into the light. Hase turned and slowly raised his rifle to cover the wooden staircase, his hands shaking.

  The MP40 fired a burst as two eager Russians looked round the corner of the lane, the bullets hitting the wall before them throwing brick and cement fragments across the square entrance. Both Russians ducked back, the shouting in the lane becoming heightened in the preparations to attack, the infantry lacking coordination with no officer present.

  Hausser rose from his crouched position, backing slowly from the open doorway, his submachine gun held high, pointing at the corner. The engine of the armoured car revved as it moved forward, the turret emerging into the light of the square, its commander’s head visible in the open hatch above the vehicle, pointing frantically to spur the soldiers forward.

  The flash from the armoured car’s main gun was instant, the shell flying across the square and entering one of the upstairs windows. The explosion rocking the building, the dust cloud billowing down the stairs, filling the storage room. The screams and shouts from the room above indicated several men were wounded or dying from the blast.

  Hausser turned to run as bullets from one of the car’s machine guns poured into the room, the boxes and bags on the left side exploding as they were hit by the high velocity projectiles. Dust and grain flew through the air engulfing the young commander as he propelled himself across the room, his left arm raising to shield his eyes as he advanced, further dust cascading from the ceiling after the explosion above.

  Behind him, Hausser could hear the shouts of the Russian infantry as they skirted the armoured car and advanced around the square, avoiding the line of fire from the vehicle on the corner of the lane.

  As he reached Hase, the soldier fired his rifle at a Russian soldier descending the stairway, the soldier’s face covered in blood, his ear drums punctured from the explosion. The man fell backwards, slumping against the stairs.

  Hausser grabbed Hase’s shoulder, pushing him out backwards through the open door, the soldier falling into the street. Bullets whipped around the doorway to the commander’s left as he pushed himself through the opening, his shoulder scraping the wooden door as he fell forwards onto the tarmac. There was an explosion in the square behind him as one of the wounded soldiers upstairs tossed a grenade through the window causing the pursuing infantry to hesitate.

  Forcing himself upwards, Hausser pushed Hase forward, the soldier half falling again as they scrambled across the road. He could see Meino beckoning them urgently at the doorway opposite as he heard ominous clattering on the road to his right. He roughly grabbed the back of Hase’s tunic to steady him and glancing in the direction of the noise, his eyes widened upon seeing the Russian Su-5 Self Propelled Gun approaching them across the tarmac, the exhaust plumes from its large engines rising into the air.

  Pushing his comrade before him, the commander lunged forward with a gasp, his tired muscles seeming to scream with the exertion. He tripped on the kerb as the vehicle passing behind them with a roar, feeling Meino’s hands roughly grasp him and drag him forward into the building before them, the door being roughly closed behind.

  The building shook as shells hit the rooftops, dust falling down onto the men in the dark narrow hallway. Nearby machine gun fire and rifle shots echoed through the building from the open door at the far end of the apartment block. Nicu was further through the building cautiously looking out into the next street through the open doorway with the other soldiers leaning on the walls of the corridor or crouching next to the stairs of the block of flats.

  Tatu stooped in front of Hausser, inspecting him for injury, a grim smile forming on his face, ‘You didn’t tell me we had to dress for dinner…are we going to a party?’ He grinned as he viewed the heavily dust clad commander, his face covered in a thick layer of dirt and specks of grain.

  Hausser gasped for air, his chest heaving, ‘Keep going, we need to keep going!’ He pushed himself from the wall and stumbled forwards, brushing Tatu’s shoulder, the other soldiers following him towards Nicu. Only Meino remained behind, covering the door they had come through, listening to muffled shots from the buildings opposite as the Russian infantry fought each other in the workshops. His grin widening as he
realised the pursuing enemy had mistaken the men on the first floor of the previous building for them.

  As Hausser reached the next doorway, Nicu turned, his eyes excited, ‘We are nearly there. Just a few hundred metres more, Herr Leutnant.’ He proclaimed, pointing out across the cobbled road before them.

  Hausser was breathing heavily as he glanced out into the light, standing back from sight. Opposite them, some fifteen metres away were a row of single storey warehouses, stretching to either side, their roofs burning out of control, the smoke forming several wide black dense plumes as they rose into the air.

  He realised at ground level it was quite gloomy, as if dusk, the light restricted by the thick smoke. To the left, some two hundred metres from their position rose the high storage buildings and warehouses used for goods sent by boat or barge up and down the river. The nearest heavy dark stone six storey structure pitted with bullet and shell holes, the top floor ablaze, the thick acrid smoke rising in one large plume into the air. In the cobbled street before them lay many bodies, of civilians, Russian and some Romanian soldiers, interspersed with discarded weapons and equipment.

  Some twenty metres in the middle of the road to their left sat a smouldering armoured car, the Russian BA-10’s engine having been hit by a small anti-tank weapon and knocked out. Around it lay the four crew, killed in their attempt to escape by machine gun fire.

  He looked up, the light brighter between the thick smoke plumes. As he squinted, he could just see movement in the high buildings, the soldiers aiming out, out beyond them. He watched as the flashes of a machine gun fired from one of the holes torn in the building side on the fourth floor. The machine gun firing past their position at something further to their right, the hot molten metal zipping through the air above them.