Character Overview.
Leutnant Hausser
A serving officer in the 76th Infantry Division, Leutnant Hausser has had a varied military career for his 27 years of age. Having been born in Dusseldorf, his parents moved to Potsdam, a suburb of Berlin, when he was a teenager. His father served in the previous war and also fought in Russia. Leutnant Hausser has seen action in the Crimea and central Russia before the unit’s participation in the drive on Stalingrad. Due to his language skills, speaking Romanian and Russian as well as his native German, he has been deployed across Army Group South during the ongoing months of Operation Barbarossa.
Quartermaster Sergeant Tatu
Tatu is in his early forties and originates from Bucharest. He has been close friends with Petru and his family for some considerable time and they used to work together in a furniture business in their home city. Enlisting in the army, he was deployed to the Romanian 20th Infantry Division.
Corporal Petru
Petru is in his mid-forties and also originates from Bucharest, where he worked making furniture with his close friend, Tatu. He is a family man and has three children, one of which, the youngest boy has some medical problems. Joining up with his friend, Tatu, he also joined the Romanian 20th Infantry Division.
Private Meino
Born in Sinj in Croatia, Meino’s parents owned an Inn in the town. As an experienced soldier in the 369th Infantry Regiment, he was deployed to the southern front of Stalingrad after a call for Romanian speakers was announced. He is thirty two years old.
Private Udet
Udet is twenty two and from Potsdam in Berlin and also a member of the 76th Infantry Division. Assigned to the southern front of Stalingrad with Leutnant Hausser.
Private Nicu
Nicu is nineteen years old, and the youngest of the group. A member of the Romanian 14th Infantry Division, his unit was virtually destroyed in the initial Russian assault south of Stalingrad. Nicu is from Hotin near the Russian border.
Private Luca Barsetti
Luca is in his late twenties and assigned to the 248th Autieri Group (Transport) after an argument with his commander. The 248th drove supplies into Stalingrad from outside the city, and he was unfortunate enough to be directed with his supplies to the southern suburbs just before the Russian offensive began, being ‘cut off’ during the attack in the storage towers. On his own admission, he is an excellent shot, but this is yet to be seen in battle.
Hase
Little is known about this soldier. A Russian ‘Hilfswilliger’ (‘Hiwi’ for short) or volunteer grew up in Kiev. He has been with Hausser for some time and it is currently uncertain where they originally joined forces, but this probably happened in the Crimea. At 28, he is a year older than the commander, and seems to respect him immensely, displaying considerable loyalty.
Introduction
The Italian hammered his fist on the warehouse door facing the river, ‘Open up, it’s Luca!’ His Italian voice raised as he pressed the side of his face to the thick wooden door.
The echoes of bullet fire surrounded the buildings and he shivered, the cold breeze from the river enveloping him on the top of the slope that descended to the river’s edge. An explosion on the front of the building next door caused him to hammer frantically on the door once more. ‘Open the door someone! It’s time to leave!’ He coughed as the cold caught in his throat, forcing him to swallow hard.
He leant back, looking up at the dark hulk of the building, straining his ears to try and distinguish any sound from inside the building. His exhaled breath formed in clouds of condensed air around him and through the mistiness he could make out the long frozen icicles hanging from the upper window sills, their openings long since bricked and boarded up. Then a smile crossed his face as he recognised a cautious muffled voice on the other side of the door replying to his shout, ‘Is that Luca? What’s going on?’
Lifting his rifle and pulling the strap over his shoulder, the Italian’s eyes narrowed in frustration as he realised the fear in the man’s voice, ‘Open the damn door, Alessio! Let me in!’
The bolts on the top, middle and bottom of the inside of the sturdy wooden delivery door were drawn slowly back, the crisp sound of the cold metal grinding against their steel housings initially making him relax slightly, then a large explosion on the roof of the storage tower next door drowned the sounds out. He turned abruptly, startled, seeing debris dropping onto the iced snow from the roof of the neighbouring building.
The right side of the double doors slowly creaked inwards as the soldier on the other side pulled the sturdy delivery door towards him, creating a small opening. Luca side stepped through the space into almost complete darkness, the large room illuminated by only one oil lamp. Seeing two silhouettes before him lower their rifles, he breathed a sigh of relief, realising the men were at a high state of alert.
The door was closed behind him and the bolts pushed back into place, his eyes struggling to adjust in the gloom. A hand grasped his right shoulder and he turned to look at his countryman in the darkness, the Italian soldier shorter than him, grinning in the dim light.
‘So…what’s the plan?’ The man spoke in the darkness. ‘We have little time left here now as the Russians are about to attack in force.’
Luca walked forward towards the two other soldiers as they lowered their rifles further, eventually holding them by their sides in one hand. He cleared his throat, ‘The Leutnant is moving along the river bank with a group to secure an escape route for us. He sent me to get you. How many of you are in here?’
Alessio spoke from behind him, turning to push the door as a final check that it was secure, ‘Only nine of us now, Luca. We sent the others across to the other building. The rest are upstairs providing cover fire for the tower next door.’
Luca nodded grimly, ‘OK, let’s have a look at the Russian positions from upstairs. We will choose six men to leave with me and then come back for the rest.’ He walked forward boldly, heading for the doorway in the right corner of the room. As he passed through the opening, he turned and started to climb the stairs to the first floor, hearing rifle shots from the floors above echo down the stairwell. A distant muffled explosion from outside prompted him to increase the speed of his ascent, pushing his legs up two steps at a time.
Reaching the first floor, he glanced into the room to his left, seeing three soldiers at the barricaded windows facing the street, their positions at an angle to look out into the thoroughfare before the building next door. As he turned on the landing to begin to climb the next set of stairs, he heard an adrenalin fuelled shout from the room he had just looked into, ‘Smoke in the street, the Russians are starting their attack!’
Luca turned, making eye contact with his younger countryman, Alessio, the soldier stood on the flight of stairs below him. The young man’s eyes were wide with excitement, his breathing becoming shorter as his fear rose within him. They both ducked instinctively as an explosion outside startled them.
As Luca climbed the next few steps, he began to breathe heavily in the cold stairwell from the exertion and stress, the chilled air seeming to grasp at his chest. Reaching the second floor, he saw two further soldiers aiming out at an angle, and as he turned to ascend the next flight, a shot ringing out as one fired into the smoke diagonally down the street.
The muffled gunfire from outside seemed to intensify as he ascended the next few steps, his breathing becoming laboured. He grasped the metal handrail and started to pull himself up the remaining stairs, his legs aching at the strain. Alessio climbed up level with him, grasping his left elbow tightly and pulling him upwards. As he did so, the younger Italian leant towards him, his lips near Luca’s ear, ‘Don’t worry, it’s the change in temperature from outside to inside, it messes with your breathing. It seems us Italians are not suited for the Russian winter.’
Luca nodded, coughing, his right hand pulling on the metal handrail as he greedily gulped in air, ‘Just get me to the fourth floor. We can chec
k the street from there.’
Reaching the next landing, the two men glanced into the storage room to their left before turning to climb the next set of stairs. Two soldiers were stood pensively against the walls, the outline of their German steel helmets in the gloom distinctive with the glow from the oil lamps on the floor. Both were looking out diagonally from the boarded windows, their rifles in their hands.
Climbing the next few steps, Luca’s breathing became more laboured, the tightness in his chest causing him to grasp the handrail with both hands. Alessio leant into him, his voice concerned, ‘Are you alright Luca? Normally it’s not this bad…shall we stop for a moment?’
Luca shook his head, swallowing air, ‘N…No, let’s keep going…I…I should be alright in a moment.’ His breathing was becoming wheezed, the stress of the climb and cold temperature playing on his chest.
Gunfire echoed around the stairwell as the riflemen on the floors below fired out into the smoke billowing in front of the next door building. A muffled explosion from outside the other storage tower startled them, the gunfire outside rising in intensity again. The two men struggled up the stairs to the fourth floor, Alessio pulling Luca upwards with the tight grip on his left arm.
As they reached the fourth floor, a Romanian soldier emerged from the office to the right, his eyes wide with excitement, ‘Russian infantry are storming the ground floor in the next building…….we will be next!’
Alessio’s eyes narrowed, frustration crossing his face, his voice raised, ‘Hold your nerve! They are not here yet! The building is secure!’
The Romanian’s eyes dropped, his expression becoming solemn, ‘Yes, Alessio, I…I am sorry.’ Seeing Luca lean forward the Italian clutching is chest, he moved forward concern on his face, ‘Luca, are you alright?’
Luca coughed deeply, his hand outstretched to the soldier, ‘I will be fine…just need a minute. Have we a good view from this floor?’
The Romanian shook his head, ‘No, better from above. One of the windows is half open up there.’
Luca grimaced, ‘Ok, let’s go Alessio…next floor.’
Turning, the two Italians began to climb the next set of stairs, Luca leaning on Alessio and breathing heavily. The Romanian slowly stepped up behind them, watching Luca pull on the metal handrail, his body nearly bent double in an attempt to make breathing easier.
The men slowly reached the fifth floor, half carrying Luca into the wide dark storage area to the left of the stairs. Luca leant against the wall, breathing heavily and reaching into his tunic breast pocket for some cigarettes. He watched as the Romanian lit an oil lamp half way along the front wall of the room, the light struggling to illuminate through the darkness.
Cold air and the occasional snowflake drifted in through the furthest window, the opening only half covered. The sounds of gunfire in the street below echoed through the room, the fighting persisting on the ground floor of the neighbouring building.
As Luca twisted the lighter in his hands, the flame caught and he drew greedily on the cigarette, the warm smoke drifting through his narrowed bronchial tubes, relaxing them. The cigarettes a special issue for soldiers with his identified medical condition.
He glanced around the long room, the dim light casting shadows across the walls as the flame in the oil lamp flickered in the breeze. The front of the room was relatively clear, with some debris and thick plaster dust from the ceiling lying across the cement floor. Along the back of the room the wall was obscured by what he presumed to be a large quantity of supplies or machinery, covered entirely in tarpaulin. The objects and tarpaulin came up to shoulder height and covered approximately half the floor of the storage area, with most of the back wall and end of the room in darkness due to the obstruction.
Alessio was further down the room, cautiously glancing out of the half boarded window, his fear of potential sniper fire evident in his stance. The Romanian, having lit another oil lamp, rose from his crouched position and lit his own cigarette, blowing the smoke across the width of the room.
Luca began to feel his breathing become easier, his bronchial tubes opening and relaxing with the warm smoke, allowing the air easier access into his lungs. Looking across the room at his countryman, he pushed himself from the wall, ‘What can you see Alessio?’
Alessio turned, stepping back from the opening, ‘It’s not good, I think the Russians are on the ground floor. The shooting seems to be inside the building now.’
Luca moved forward along the wall, slowly taking the rifle from his shoulder, ‘Is there still smoke?’
Alessio turned to him, the light flickering across his unshaven face. ‘Yes, can’t see anything in the street, but some of the firing is muffled…the Russians must be inside.’
Passing the Romanian who was glancing out through a crack in the window next to him, he cautiously approached the opening. Alessio stepped back to let him pass, ‘How will they get out now?’
Luca shook his head, feeling his chest more relaxed, his breathing easier. ‘I don’t know…it looks bad for them. Let’s have a look.’
The Italian looked cautiously out of the opening at an angle, glancing down into the street. The smoke extended around the base of the building next door, billowing up to the second floor level. Silhouettes moved through the smoke towards the building, the Russian troops reinforcing their gain of the ground floor in case of counter attack and in readiness to attack the first floor.
Luca sighed, pulling back from the window and resting his back on the wall. Reaching for another cigarette, he wondered how long the men in the adjacent tower could hold out against the mass of Russians swarming towards the building. Pulling his head forward to light the cigarette, he sucked as the tobacco lit, his head slowly moving backwards, stopping when his helmet rested against the wall.
He blew smoke across the room, watching the cloud swirl as it drifted and broke over the tarpaulin. Then he tensed and leant forward, straining his eyes through the gloom, his alertness rising.
Luca turned to Alessio, a puzzled expression on his face, ‘What’s under the tarpaulin?’
Alessio shrugged, ‘Supplies I think, we have never really looked. We’ve only been here a short time, there was never the need…they are probably rotten.’
Luca pushed himself from the wall, his voice distant as his curiosity rose, ‘Bring the oil lamp. Let’s have a look at these ‘supplies’.’
Chapter Thirty One: As the Curtain begins to Fall
In the small fourth floor office in the storage tower, Tatu scanned the bank of the river bend with binoculars through the shell hole in the wall. Below him, sporadic gunfire echoed in the stairwell as the Russians tried to gain an understanding of the strength they faced before attacking the first floor. The occasional explosion within and outside the building indicated the grenades the defenders were using to deter the attackers, a stock of grenades that were now beginning to run out.
He tensed, lowering the glasses for a second as he heard a grinding noise above him in the building. The noise becoming slightly louder, then silence. Hearing boots on the stairs behind him, he raised the glasses again. He scanned the ice as it bent around the river, looking for shadows or silhouettes. Seeing nothing, he began looking along the river wall in shadows from the fires beyond.
A smile crossed his lips as he thought he glimpsed something against a gap in the wall, then he ducked his head as shells exploded above him on the roof, a shower of dust falling from the ceiling above. Raising the glasses he looked again, seeing nothing and reluctantly dismissing his earlier thought.
As he lowered the binoculars from his eyes, he heard Udet’s shouting in the stairwell, a desperation in his voice, ‘Tatu, come quickly, we need your help!’ Dropping the binoculars, he ran his shaking hand over his moustache and grasped his PPSH 41 submachine gun. Turning abruptly, he ran from the office. Seeing a soldier at the end of the room opposite, he realised he was grimly checking the bodies for any survivors from the blast that had occurred earlier. He ave
rted his eyes as he approached the doorway, seeing the torn and broken bodies of the wounded that had been caught in the explosion as it burst through the ceiling.
As Tatu turned to descend the stairs from the fourth floor, Meino’s voice boomed from the stairwell above, ‘Not down, up…come and help!’ Gunfire echoed up and down the stairwell, the defenders on the floors below them desperately trying to deter the Russians from attacking upwards.
Tatu glanced upwards, seeing the Croatian turn the corner of the staircase above him. Meino’s eyes were wide with excitement, ‘Come on, quickly! There is not much time!’
Tatu grasped the handrail and turned abruptly, stepping up two steps at a time as the Croatian disappeared from view upwards on the staircase. Tatu pulled himself up the steps, his gloved hands grasping the handrail tightly. As he turned the bend in the staircase, he saw Meino and Udet standing on the upper fifth floor landing, their weapons held menacingly.
As he climbed the last few steps, a blast of cold air hit him from the left doorway leading to the uppermost storage room. The ceiling mostly completely collapsed, some rubble and broken beams had come to rest near the doorway, almost blocking it. Flames flickered and burned in the room behind the rubble, the remaining stores and oil being consumed by the fire. He glanced through a gap in the debris, seeing the open dark sky where the roof had been, the stars bright and clear in the freezing temperatures. Broken machinery lay along the left wall, a metal step ladder at the end, the only route to the sixth floor that had now collapsed inwards.
Turning on the dimly lit fifth floor landing, he faced Meino and Udet, realising they stood before a closed double doorway, the flames from the room behind him casting broken light into the stairwell through the rubble. The sturdy bolted wooden doors obstructing the area that would have been the small side offices as on the floors below, he blinked in surprise, ‘What is it?’
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