Deep inside Petru, his determination and hatred for the war rose up, his desperation becoming panic, he kicked out and pushed in one final effort to free himself, the momentum moving the bodies slightly, freeing him and sliding him into the flowing water. His head rose above the liquid and he heard himself cough and splutter, the inhale of air loud, seeming distant as he struggled with consciousness. The freezing water current pulled him down the tunnel, the noise of running water getting louder as he spluttered and gasped in the tunnels torrent. His body was bumped and scratched on the bricks beneath him, then suddenly he felt himself falling backwards, head first. He was engulfed in freezing water, feeling the grime and slurry rush across his face. Petru closed his eyes and mouth, his body still desperately short of air. He twisted in the freezing cold water, pushing his head upwards and kicking out against the drag of his uniform, his face emerging on the surface.
Hausser stopped in the wide passageway, hearing the gunfire echo across the smeared walls around him, unable to determine which direction it came from in the labyrinth of tunnels. Udet and Hase stopped next to him, half crouched in the sewer tunnel, their weapons held before them, a Romanian soldier holding the lantern aloft a metre behind them. The three listened, straining their ears to try and sense the distance and direction of the echoing shots.
Exhaling heavily, Hausser shrugged and began moving cautiously forward again, the six soldiers with him following him closely, their nerves taut. Reaching the end of the tunnel they were in, they slowly moved down a ramp at the end towards a junction, the light from the lantern behind him diminishing as he slipped silently down the decline. Stepping onto the lower level, the young commander lifted his hand to indicate for them to stop, pushing his boots forward with his MP40 clenched menacingly, he approached the corner at the junction. Glancing quickly to either side, he indicated for the men to follow as he turned left into a narrower passageway, the bricks iced on either side. Before him, he could see snowflakes drifting into the tunnel from an open shaft some five metres away, the colder air from outside enveloping him as he approached.
Leaning forward, he glanced upwards, seeing the darkened sky above the open manhole, his exhaled breath condensed. The stars sparkled down at him in the freezing air, their intensity almost breath-taking. Seeing the manhole was clear, he indicated for the men behind him to proceed, raising his weapon to point at the opening. The soldiers increased their steps as they passed under the shaft to the manhole above, stepping deliberately across the ice and patch of frozen snow on the brick floor of the sewer. As they reached the end of the passageway, Hausser side stepped beneath the opening, his eyes concentrated on the manhole above him. Then he turned and caught up with the other soldiers.
Approaching the next junction, the sporadic gunfire was getting louder, the fighting in other areas of the sewers intensifying as the Russians reinforced their attack. An eruption echoed through the brick built passageways some distance away, followed by screaming, the soldier caught in the explosion losing a limb.
Checking the routes either side of the junction, Hausser turned right, followed cautiously by the other soldiers their weapons stretched out before them. They found themselves in a wider tunnel, the gunfire significantly louder from the end they faced, some ten metres away. Flashes illuminated the walls at the next junction, indicating someone was firing just around the corner, the rattle of the machine gun bursts a familiar sound.
The fleeing Hungarian infantryman slipped as he turned the corner in front of them, his boots losing their grip on the iced bricks. Falling roughly, the MP40 fell with a clatter onto the floor of the sewer. Ignoring his fallen weapon, he scrambled towards them on his hands and knees, attempting to rise to his feet, propelling himself forward and away from his pursuers. Udet lunged forward, grabbing the man and pulling him roughly to the right wall as Hausser and Hase raised their weapons.
The Hungarian was terrified, his eyes wide and breathing in sharp rasps, desperately attempting to pull away from Udet, to run further from the passageway behind, to escape. The young German struggled with the man, until his frustration became unbearable and he let his grip loosen. The panicked soldier broke free pushing Udet to the side, the German falling onto one knee. The terrified Hungarian ran back behind them into the tunnel, his panic driving him away into the darkness beyond. As he passed one of his countrymen in the group, the soldier shouted at him in his native language to stop. But it was to no avail, the man could not hear anyone, he continued running in terror.
Hearing shouting in Russian and boots on the brick surface of the tunnel to their left, Hausser and Hase lowered themselves to a crouch, the other soldiers following suit, their weapons pointed at the corner. Udet briefly watched the man disappear into the darkness, then turned raising his rifle towards the corner despondently.
The footsteps approached the corner, the sounds of several pairs of boots on the brick floor of the sewer. Gunfire and explosions from grenades echoed through the tunnels as the fighting heightened further into the dark sewage system.
The first Russian infantryman ran round the corner, his bayoneted rifle held at waist height. Two more infantry appeared behind him as Hausser opened fire, the first soldier to emerge spinning round with the bullets impact, the rifle falling from his grasp. Udet and Hase’s rifles cracked as the other two Russians fell backwards, their screams of surprise as they impacted on the hard frozen floor of the sewer echoing across the curved walls of the tunnel.
Hausser ran forward, hearing further boots scraping in the tunnel to the left. Jumping over the outstretched bodies of the dying men, he kicked a rifle away from one of the wounded soldiers, the injured man reaching out for the weapon. Crouching at the corner, Hausser fired another burst from his submachine gun blindly down the passageway, hearing further screams as the bullets hit the advancing enemies in the confines of the tunnel. The soldiers fell to the floor of the tunnel, their weapons clattering onto the brick surface. Leaning out briefly, he saw two man lying in the tunnel only two metres from the corner. Behind him, his men inspected the wounded and dying enemy, moving their weapons out of reach.
Hausser moved into the side tunnel, pushing one of the Russians back with his boot as he tried to rise, the blood pouring from his mouth. Stepping over the other prone man, the Russian grabbed his ankle, his eyes pleading. The commander checked the tunnel ahead was empty and bent down to the wounded soldier, blood beginning to soak through the man’s tunic. The soldier was quite young, his eyes blue and wide with shock. Hausser bit his lip as the youngster grasped his tunic, his lips moving to try and speak to the German.
The Russian youth looked up at the commander, tears in his eyes as he tried to speak, his voice broken as he choked back his emotion. Hausser placed his hand beneath the man’s head, lifting it slightly from the floor of the tunnel as the dying soldier coughed, the young commander horrified the soldier was so young.
The young Russian soldier stared up at Hausser, his eyes pleading as he realised that his life was ebbing away. The commander looked morosely down at him, his whisper going unheard by the men behind, tears beginning to form in his eyes, ‘I am sorry…’ The other soldiers stood behind him, grimly and warily watching the other Russians lying on the tunnel floor as they fought for life, their bodies beginning to twitch.
The youth coughed and nodded slightly, blood beginning to run from his mouth and nose as he spluttered, his eyes closing for a second, ‘We will all die here…’ His grip loosened slowly on Hausser’s tunic, his head falling backwards as his eyes became lifeless.
Hausser gently lowered the young soldier’s head to the floor of the tunnel, rising to his feet despondently. Lifting the strap of his weapon onto his shoulder, he glanced round, then grimly stepped over the body in the passageway, advancing further down the dark tunnel.
As he stepped forward, holding his MP40 held at waist height, he felt the nausea in his stomach, a hatred of the endless fighting rising within him. The sounds of gunfire were gettin
g louder as he reached the end of the passageway, hearing the noises coming from the right. He looked out quickly, seeing the next wider sloped tunnel was empty, cold water running down the centre drainage section of the passageway.
Stepping over the drainage gully, he advanced cautiously along the left wall, his body still half crouched. Udet moved along the right wall, his rifle held before him as they approached another junction in the tunnel. Behind them, Hase and the other members of the group followed warily, the poor light from the lantern flickering across the walls.
Glancing round the next corner, Hausser moved into the narrow tunnel, hearing the noises of gunfire now only a short distance away. The water splashed across the walls as he pushed his boots through the slime. Reaching the end of this narrow passageway he leant out briefly, seeing a German soldier knelt next to the corner on his right, his attention on the next passage. To the left, he saw another junction, the sounds of water running in the tunnel. Indicating for the soldiers to split, he considered the Russians must have come from the left side tunnel. Looking down, he realised the water in the passageway was flowing into a grill on the floor of the tunnel.
The startled infantryman at the corner glanced round, a brief smile crossing his face as he recognised the uniforms. He nodded to Hausser, ‘We are falling back, sir. The Russians are too strong.’
Hausser approached him slowly, ‘How long have you been here?’
The soldier shook his head, ‘Only a few seconds, I am going to cover the remains of our group as they retreat.’ He tensed as firing further down the tunnel system erupted again.
The commander indicated to the other tunnel with a twist of his head, ‘Where does that lead?’
The soldier shrugged, ‘Not sure, but there is a central section nearby where the water collects before going out to the river. All the pipework leads there, then the water is released towards the Volga.’
Hausser’s eyebrows raised in curiosity, ‘So the Russians are entering the system on a lower level than us?’
The soldier nodded, ‘I think so. I am no sewer expert, but that’s what it seems.’
The commander nodded thoughtfully. ‘How many men are you with?’
The soldier glanced back down the passageway nervously, ‘Five, they are up ahead. The Russians are using grenades and flamethrowers to clear us out. We just have not got the numbers to hold them.’
Hausser wiped the scarf across his mouth, ‘I see. You and your men try and hold here until we have finished a sweep of the other tunnels.’
The soldier nodded slowly and reluctantly, his expression grim. ‘Yes, Herr Leutnant.’
Hausser turned, indicating to one of the Hungarian soldiers with them, ‘Stay with him.’ The soldier nodded obediently, moving forward. Hausser glanced across the other soldiers’ grimy faces, ‘The rest come with me…we will check the other tunnels.’
Tatu changed the magazine of his PPSH 41 as he glanced across at Nicu, the younger soldier lying at the corner, his rifle pointing at the steps. Clipping the new ammunition drum into the base of the weapon, the quartermaster hissed across the wide tunnel, ‘Any grenades?’
Nicu shook his head, looking back down the sight of his weapon, ‘Petru and the others were carrying them.’ The movement at the foot of the stairs seemed to have ceased, but both soldiers could just hear the Russians talking in hushed voices at the end of the wide tunnel.
They both tensed as they heard further movement at the foot of the steps, the scraping of boots and some louder whispers. Tatu raised his head cautiously above the sandbags, his ears strained to listen. Gunfire broke out further across the tunnel network preventing him from determining sounds below the stairs. Placing the barrel of his submachine gun on top of the makeshift barrier, he ran his spare hand across his moustache nervously.
As the echoes of gunfire subsided, he strained to listen again, the sounds of running water in the tunnels now the only noise. Looking across at Nicu, the younger soldier shrugged, whispering, ‘Have they gone?’
Tatu smiled deviously, a twinkle in his eyes, whispering back, ‘There is only one way to find out…’ He straightened his back, the muscles across his shoulders tight. Raising his voice, he spoke loudly down the tunnel, his voice questioning, ‘Hey Russkie?’
The sounds of running water in the tunnel continued, the sporadic cracks of rifle fire and bursts from submachine guns in the distance. Tatu looked across at Nicu, a confused expression on his face. The quartermaster turned further, examining the tunnel behind them. Seeing the drainage tract bending away to the left with the tunnel, he realised they were in a corner section of the sewer.
Tatu breathed hard, rising from his crouched position, raising his voice further, ‘Hey Russkie?’ He lifted the submachine gun from the sandbags, cradling the magazine drum in his left hand. The sounds of running water continued in the tunnel, with distant gunfire the only other noise.
Nicu’s eyes widened at the quartermaster’s movement, hissing, ‘What are you doing?’
Tatu glanced across at him and winked, then lunged round the sandbags, running to the top of the steps and jumping down. Nicu scrambled to his feet, seeing the quartermaster land on the floor of the tunnel below the steps and drop to a crouch.
Leaning forward, Tatu glanced from side to side cautiously as he approached the corner, seeing there were no enemy soldiers on the end of the tunnel. At the left corner, he stopped, resting his back against the wall, exhaling heavily, his heart racing. Then he ducked his head out quickly checking the tunnel.
Nicu slowly approached the top of the steps, the grip on his weapon tight, an exasperated look on his young face, ‘What did you do there?’
Tatu turned his head, smiling briefly, ‘It’s what I would have done. This is a bottleneck, if we block them for too long, they will retreat and try to find somewhere else.’ He wiped his nose on his sleeve as the younger Romanian descended the steps, ‘Now, let’s go and find the others.’
Hausser was scrutinising the map with contempt, the light from the lantern flickering across the worn page. Looking at Udet, he exhaled in frustration, the air condensed before him. ‘I don’t know which village idiot drew this…but it’s not much help.’
Udet grinned, his right eyebrow rising at the unexpected humour, ‘So…we are lost?’
A flicker of a smile crossed Hausser’s face, ‘Pretty much so. Let’s hope the defenders we left stay where they are so they can show us the way out.’ He slapped Udet’s shoulder, ‘Your role to remember the route!’
Udet’s eyes fell, mentally recounting the two tunnels they had just crept through, his voice subdued, ‘Thank you, Herr Leutnant.’ The three Hungarians and Hase stood behind him grinning as they began to realise what must have been said.
Hausser walked forward to the next corner, screwing the makeshift map up in his gloved hands and dropping it to the side of the tunnel. Glancing into the next passageway quickly, he grasped his submachine gun and disappeared into the opening, the stench rising into his nostrils once more.
Udet stepped towards the passageway, hearing the commander whisper back impatiently, ‘Please bring the light when you are ready, gentlemen.’ The young German scowled and lowered his head, stepping into the darkness, extending his hand to receive the lantern.
The foul stale water splashed across their boots as they stepped along the small side tunnel, the light flickering across the walls before Hausser. As he approached the end, he slowed his pace, seeing a faint light ahead flickering across the walls.
Reaching the corner, Hausser felt the grate of a metal grille beneath his boots, hearing a low murmuring and moaning. Hausser stole a glance round the corner, towards the light. Seeing a prone German soldier lying by the side of the wide tunnel with two other soldiers crouched over him, he stepped out, shaking his boots. The nearest soldier spun round raising his rifle, then lowered the weapon, a brief smile forming on his face. Then the smile dropped.
Hausser straightened up in the wide tunnel, st
epping towards them. Then he noticed the soldier lying on the floor of the tunnel was bleeding and walked briskly to the three men. ‘How is he?’ He enquired.
The second soldier looked up, his eyes saddened. He shook his head slightly, attempting to conceal the expression from the wounded man. Hausser turned to the men with him, indicating to one of the Hungarians, ‘Adel, have a look, see what you can do.’
The older Hungarian stepped forward, dropping to a crouch to look at the soldier. The half-conscious wounded man groaned as the Hungarian ex-medical student began to examine him.
Hausser indicated for one of the soldiers to come to the side, ‘Were the Russians here?’
The soldier shook his head, tiredly removing his helmet, ‘No, one of the secondary positions. They surprised us, hitting Karl. There was no warning fire from the forward position.’
The commander nodded slowly, ‘Right, who is manning the position now?’
The soldier looked at him, ‘Two Romanians, one has a big coat.’ He grinned thoughtfully, ‘A very big coat.’
Hausser smiled fleetingly, ‘The old fool is nearby then…’ Noticing the soldier stare curiously at him, he continued grinning, ‘Erm…he is one of my men. Where are they exactly? We are lost.’
The soldier turned, pointing to an opening further down the tunnel, ‘Go down there…follow the trail of blood.’
Adel rose from his crouched position and approached the commander, his voice a whisper, ‘We need to get him out of here, sir, or he will die.’ The man was late thirties with darkened eyes, his thin frame complimented by his bushy black hair and beard.
Hausser nodded solemnly, ‘Very well, go with him Adel. Come back as soon as you get him to the medic station and wait for us near the entrance.’
The man nodded, turned and stepped back to the wounded man.
The commander looked across at the other soldiers, ‘Let’s go, Tatu is ahead, he may need our help.’ He pointed to the entrance some metres away.
Bloody Stalingrad Page 43