His eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light, his body jerking as the warmth began to slowly fight its way back into his limbs. Then a helmeted head appeared above him, looking down, the face of the shadowy figure seeming to smile broadly.
Hase’s chest jerked as he coughed violently again, raising his head and spitting the foul tasting phlegm from his mouth. He lowered his head again looking at the smiling face above him, then a flicker of recognition went through his mind at the eyes above the dirty scarf in the dim light.
Nicu was grinning at him beneath the scarf, ‘We wondered if you would come…’ The Romanian stated in seeming amusement and relief, kneeling down above him, his expression becoming concerned as he began to unbutton the prone man’s tunic, ‘…we need to get you warm.’ As Hase lay there, he could hear the distant gunfire echoing through the tunnels, looking up at Nicu, the young Romanian had understood his concerns. He had whispered to him gently as he removed his tunic, ‘We are holding the Russians back, so we are safe here for the time being.’
Pushing himself up painfully onto his elbows, Hase slowly pulled himself backwards, extracting his legs carefully away from the water’s edge. Looking round slowly, he saw the reservoir was quite large, metal gantries on several levels surrounding the deep water storage area. Several candles flickered on the metal walkways, the lights casting shadows that danced across the walls with the movement of the water. Around the gantries sat several Russian residents sheltering from the ravages of the city above, their clothes worn and faces grim. Most were elderly, but two small children were amongst them seeming fascinated by the soldiers’ actions. Five passageways exited the large spacious man-made brick cavern on two levels, with a number of drainage pipes around the room feeding the mass of water below them. The noise of the rushing water was continuous, both from the passageway and some of the piping. The cold air in the wide space seemed to cling to the human presence, adding to the misery felt by the residents.
Nicu had removed most of his uniform, providing him with a large number of makeshift rags to wrap himself in, mostly provided by the startled residents, the rest from a small storage cupboard next to the reservoir. The young Romanian had then helped him stand and moved him to sit with a small bedraggled group of refugees sheltering in the large man-made storage area, the fighting driving them from the tunnels.
As Hase cautiously sat down, his body wrapped snugly in the many layers of rags and blankets, the elderly man and lady next to him had moved closer to him. Placing their arms around him for warmth, the man removed his jacket and placed it over Hase’s shoulders. The woman had tears in her eyes as she began rubbing his numb arms vigorously. Speaking in hushed Russian to the elderly man on the other side of him, ‘Such a young man, so far from home. They are too innocent to die here.’
Realising the elderly couple presumed he was ‘just another’ German soldier, he remained silent, his teeth chattering uncontrollably as he sat there. The elderly woman gradually stopped rubbing his arm and held him to her, her body shaking as she cried, ‘You are just like my young Marat, fighting for something you no longer understand.’ She sobbed almost uncontrollably as he nodded.
Hase watched as Nicu had begun twisting the uniform material to squeeze as much water from it as possible. His body was still shivering, but less than before. The jolts less violent as the warmth from the couple pressed closely to him began to filter into his.
Across the corner of the reservoir from him, one of the Hungarian soldiers was grinning, his elation at escaping the water alive evident. He looked past the soldier, the water gushing from the tunnel opening and downwards, into a wide and spacious area. The soldier lay on a metal gantry, the water bubbling below him. Beyond the falling water he saw a Romanian soldier frantically rubbing Udet’s legs in urgency, attempting to rejuvenate warmth, concern on the Romanian’s face.
He was still shivering as the Nicu returned the damp uniform and felt body length underwear, lying it gently across his still numb legs. Nicu knelt before him, studying him as his shivering became lighter, smiling at the elderly couple either side of him, ‘Thank you.’
They nodded in response, their faces lined with the exhaustion and hardships they had experienced. The woman slowly turned, retrieving a small bundle from behind her, gradually unwrapping the cloth, she produced some small crusts of bread from the bundle, offering them to Hase and Nicu in her outstretched hand. Both soldiers shook their heads, the thought of taking the bread from the elderly couple abhorrent to them.
Nicu raised his hand, shaking it and indicating for the elderly woman and her husband to eat. In response, she smiled briefly, offering the small snack across Hase to the elderly man. The man shrugged, glanced at Hase then extended a hand slowly, retrieving a morsel of bread and placing it in his mouth. As he chewed slowly, he smiled at Nicu.
Chapter Forty Eight: Trapped
Hase gingerly started to dress himself, wary of the stares of the many Russian civilians in the reservoir. Seeing his embarrassment, the elderly couple slowly stood up and placed themselves in front of him, shielding his body as he slipped back into the damp felt underwear. Lifting his combat trousers over his knees, he could just hear gunfire above the flowing water from one of the passageways to the right.
As he buttoned his tunic, Tatu emerged from the darkness of the tunnel, a smile crossing his face as he recognised the soldiers spread amongst the Russian civilians for warmth on the gantries. Nodding at Hausser, the Romanian quartermaster moved towards him, descending a set of metal steps. He then walked under the mass of falling water before climbing more of the gantry steps, the studs on his boots clicking on the metal walkway.
Hausser raised his eyes as Tatu stood over him, the commander twisting Udet’s uniform to squeeze water from the fabric, ‘We will have to move Hausser, the Russians seem to be moving more men up in the tunnels.’ Tatu grinned as he observed the young commander dressed in civilian clothes, blankets placed across his shoulders.
Hausser glanced back at the material in his hands, then looked at Tatu, ignoring his amusement, ‘Do you know the way out?’
Tatu shook his head, his expression becoming grim, his hand running across his moustache, ‘No, the only safe way out I know is full of water.’ He indicated to the waterfall behind him, ‘I have checked the other tunnels, but there are Russian infantry in each of them. I don’t know the system, so we may attack in the wrong direction and be in here for days. We are holding them for now, but if they attack in force…well, that will be it I think.’
The commander rose to his feet, a blanket falling to the walkway. Thinking for a second, he turned to Tatu, his face grave, ‘Most of our weapons are waterlogged, so will not be reliable now. We need to find a way out…and quickly, to save the men.’
Hausser shuffled past Tatu, handing the uniform to Udet sitting shivering against the wall. He turned sharply, his eyes narrowing, ‘Where are the controls to empty the reservoir?’
Tatu shifted his stance, pointing across the wide room, ‘There are some hand wheels over there in the corner on the lower level, but that still does not give us a way out.’
The commander nodded, turning to face the walkways above he raised his voice, speaking Russian, ‘Please help us, we need a way out of here, can anyone tell us the way?’
The Russian civilians looked at him suspiciously, hesitancy and caution on their faces.
Hausser coughed, then spoke again, ‘Please tell us the way out of here if you know one.’
Behind Hausser, the elderly man next to Hase slowly raised his hand, his wife beginning to sob in fear. Hase slowly lowered himself before the woman, nodding at the elderly man, his voice soft, ‘Don’t worry, he is a good man, he will not harm you.’
The woman’s eyes opened wide as she recognised his Ukrainian accent, the tears beginning to flow from her eyes, ‘You are Russian…but why?’
Hase’s eyes became moist, he swallowed hard, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder as she shook, her head drop
ping to look into her lap, ‘He saved my life and the lives of my men, I owe my loyalty to him now...I made a choice…’
The woman slowly raised her head, her eyes defiant, her voice low, ‘But you are a traitor to your country now, yet so young…’ The tears rolled down her cheeks as she wept and Hase realised she was crying for him, for his predicament.
A tear rolled down his cheek as he knelt before her, his hand on her shoulder. He swallowed again, his throat tight with emotion, a desperation rising within him to tell her the truth, ‘Our position was impossible in the Crimea…we were cut off, left to die by the commissars. This commander saved me and my men and a village full of people from destruction.’ He leant forward slowly, as the elderly woman sobbed, ‘He saved the villagers and refugees, letting us escape to safety as Russian planes bombed the village behind us. That is why I have loyalty to this man, not his country.’
The woman’s head rose, her shoulders shaking with emotion as she looked into his eyes. Raising her hand, she grasped his arm tightly, her tear filled eyes staring into him, ‘But what will become of you?’
Hase held the stare for a second, the tears flowing down his face, he shrugged slightly, his voice a whisper, ‘I don’t know.’
The elderly lady turned to look at her husband, his eyes wide and tearful with the spectacle before him, she nodded to him resolutely, ‘Show them the way.’
The elderly man stepped slowly round Hase, descending the steps from the platform they had been sitting on. He stopped before Hausser and Tatu, his hand reaching for his cap and removing it, his eyes lowered as he moved the cap nervously around in his hands, the fear rising within him as he stood before the young commander and Romanian quartermaster.
Hausser leant forward, placing his hand on the old man’s shoulder, his voice soft, ‘There is no need to be afraid…we mean you no harm.’ Explosions could be heard along the tunnels, the Russian infantry trying to dislodge the German defenders with grenades.
The man’s head slowly rose, looking the commander in the eye, his expression defiant, ‘I am not afraid of you, or your men. There is nothing else your army can inflict on our country that would make me afraid.’ His eyes became grave, ‘This war will go on for years, the hatred becoming more vicious in its enactment. All there is left is people and how they help each other survive.’
Hausser’s eyes widened in surprise at the man’s honesty. Tatu, next to him, shaking his head in displeasure, the commander staring at the elderly man, admiring his bravery, ‘Tell me how we can get out please.’
The Russian civilian stood there, staring at the young commander, ‘I will help you because I believe you are good men. Good men need to survive to stem the spread of evil that thrives in this war. Perhaps my helping you is my defiance of the evil…that you can survive and help others.’
Hausser nodded slowly, realising the man had little fear left, his exhaustion of the conflict and suffering apparent in his features. Tatu placed his hands on his hips, his frustration rising, ‘Herr Leutnant…we have not got time for this!’
Hausser raised his hand indicating to Tatu to stop talking, ‘This man will help us…let him speak.’
Tatu stepped back, screwing his face up and sighing. ‘Very well, you are in command…’ He stated despondently, rubbing his hand across his moustache.
The elderly man smiled fleetingly, ‘I have one request, Herr Commander.’ He stared at Hausser, his eyes widening slightly as he glimpsed the top of the black cross outlined in white around his neck, the blankets hiding the rest of the medal from view.
Hausser’s eyebrows raised, ‘Please tell me.’
The man shuffled towards him slightly, ‘I worked in these sewers and along the river for years. All this water is coming from a flooded reservoir outside the city, it happens every now and then, it will flow for hours. To escape you will have to flood the lower tunnels, the water will subside here and allow you access to a maintenance tunnel, only then you can escape.’ The man wiped some moisture from his face with his right hand, ‘I ask that you tell the Russians you will flood the tunnels, they can get the civilians out before they drown or are swept out onto the freezing ice on the Volga.’
The commander nodded, thinking, ‘How long is this tunnel, and how can we ensure we get away?’
The elderly man sighed, ‘You should keep going along the tunnel taking a left, then the second right. There is a ladder there, it will bring you out of the tunnel system avoiding the water.’
Hausser smiled briefly, considering the man may be lying, then discounting it. The elderly man seemed genuine enough, his determination to explain the escape and save the people in the lower tunnels contradicting any motive to trap them. He looked at the man, whose eyes stared back at the commander, not breaking eye contact, seeing the elderly man wanted reassurance before explaining further. Slowly he nodded, ‘Very well, we will give them ten minutes to move the people from the lower tunnels.’
Leutnant Hausser turned to look at Nicu, indicating for his uniform, the young Romanian turning to retrieve it from the handrail he had placed it upon after wringing the excess water from the material. Hausser then looked up at Hase, ‘Go to the forward positions and shout to the Russians. Tell them we will flood the tunnels in ten minutes and that they should move civilians out.’ He hesitated, considering what he was doing, his eyes glancing round at the assembled Russian civilians, ‘Tell them we have civilians in here too and that we will not harm them.’ He turned, indicating to Udet, ‘Go with him.’
Hase nodded, pausing for Udet to come with him, the young German buttoning his damp tunic.
Turning back to the elderly man, Hausser smiled, ‘It is done, please show me where this tunnel entrance is.’
The man turned slowly, pointing into the water by the wall below them, ‘The hatch is down there. The access is from a small platform which you take that ladder to.’
Tatu spun round, seeing the metal rungs set into a recess in the wall, a small walkway above leading to it. He turned back to the man, ‘How do we release the water?’
The elderly man smiled, knowing the Romanian was not fond of the plan, his distrust evident, ‘The controls to open the flood gates are over there.’ He pointed across the room, ‘In the corner. You must wait before opening the gates, this level of water will drown or kill everyone below this area between here and the river.’
Tatu nodded, a glare on his face, ‘Yes I know, I just want to make sure you know what you are talking about.’ He mounted the steps from the platform, walking briskly on the metal gantries round the large reservoir, heading towards the point the man had indicated to. Reaching the far end of the large room, he stood on a wide platform, becoming indistinguishable in the darkness around him.
There was a short pause, then Tatu’s voice boomed across the reservoir, ‘Herr Leutnant, he is telling the truth, the controls are here.’
Hausser turned to the elderly man, his voice a whisper, ‘Thank you, we will do what you ask.’ He indicated to Hase to continue. Turning to face the reservoir, he called across to Tatu, ‘Go and tell the Russians in another tunnel, I want to make sure more than one gets the message. Place ‘trips’ as we retreat.’
In the darkness he heard an emphasised ‘tut’, then Tatu’s strained voice, ‘Oh, very well.’ The Romanian emerging from the darkness and disappearing into the nearest tunnel.
Hase passed Hausser on the metal platform fastening his belt, Udet rising to join him after dragging on his wet boots. As they climbed the steps leading to the next level, Nicu handed Udet his rifle, the two men’s weapons lying at the bottom of the reservoir after their experience in the waterfall.
Hausser began to place his feet through the legs of the damp felt underwear, the blankets dropping from his shoulders. Looking round in slight embarrassment, he saw the numerous Russian civilians averting their eyes as he pulled the underwear up around his waist.
As Hase and Udet slipped into one of the tunnels, the sound of running water receded
as gunfire echoed through the passageways. Moving forward cautiously, they advanced along a tunnel parallel to the river, turning left towards the Volga as the passageway bent round. They could hear shouts in the distance as the defending Hungarian infantry held their positions further forward from where they were. The voices sounding alarmed as the defenders realised the Russians were moving into the sewers in force.
Edging forward to the next dark corner, Udet hissed to the infantryman hiding behind the sandbags in the next passageway, ‘Where is the front position?’
The soldier turned sharply, fear in his eyes, the candle at his feet flickering in the movement, ‘Just ahead, the Russians are getting ambitious, we have lost two men.’
Hase moved past the man, nodding to him as he did so. Nearing the next corner, he saw a boot at the bend in the tunnel, the dead soldier having been hit as he retreated. Stooping down and lowering himself to his knees, he grasped the dead soldier’s discarded rifle, pulling the bolt back to check the chamber, the Kar 98 rifle holding only two rounds. Biting his inside check, he cautiously leant forward and stretched to the man’s belt for more ammunition. Bullets flew through the tunnel above him as the Russians opened fire on the German position ahead. He ducked down instinctively, startled by the fire, his heart beating faster in his chest.
Udet knelt at the corner, his exhaled breath condensing in the cold passageway. Ducking round the corner, he saw Hase delicately pulling bullet clips from the dead soldier’s ammunition pouches. Beyond him, he could see the two Hungarian soldiers cowering behind another sandbagged position as the bullets flew overhead. Dirt and debris fell from the curved ceiling of the tunnel as he edged forward into the passageway behind Hase, his rifle raised.
Bloody Stalingrad Page 45