Bloody Stalingrad

by Andrew McGregor

  Leutnant Hausser lunged forwards again, his boots scraping across the iced road surface. His body crouched, he passed the waiting soldiers, Udet behind him. Seeing Hase at the next junction ducking out to look into the street to the river, he stopped beside him. Hase half turned, urging him forward, ‘Go, it’s clear.’

  Hausser sprinted low across the small side street reaching the safety of the next wall and turned, beckoning the men across. On the other side of the main street, Tatu and Petru moved forward, hugging the walls, Alessio behind them, his sniper rifle pointing across and down the side street, their makeshift squad following.

  Reaching the next junction, Hausser paused to catch his breath, crouched next to the corner. Two bodies lay in the street before him, the soldiers having been killed by sniper fire from the left side street leading towards the river. Ducking out quickly to look down the street, he saw the street was deserted, a burning building in the distance, the reflection from the flames dancing off the crystalized iced on the road’s surface.

  Judging by the casualties before him, he realised the front line was now close, just over one hundred metres away, the street’s angle having gradually moved them towards the Russians. Several rifle cracks rang out, the sound clear and sharp in the frozen streets, then a muffled explosion. Breathing heavily, Hausser looked up, the tension beginning to spread across his body, the dark sky beautifully clear, the vision of the stars sharp in the frozen air.

  Clearing his mind and looking across the street they were in, he saw with some relief that Tatu and the others had stopped just short of the junction. Glancing round, he recognised the small alleyway opposite from the adjutant’s description, the path between two burnt out buildings apparently leading to a small square with an ornate fountain. The square set before the building they had been assigned to.

  Glancing back across at Tatu, he indicated for them to run across all at once, the fear of a lone sniper looking out down the street from the river rising within him. Tatu raised his hand in agreement, understanding the young commander’s wishes. Turning, the Romanian quartermaster indicated for his men to move around him, whispering their intent.

  Hausser also turned, calling forward the soldiers behind with a hiss, the troops edging around him. Whispering, he looked into the nervous eyes of the small group of soldiers around him, ‘We run together, this side street is exposed to fire from the front line. When I give the signal, all move forward, understand?’ The soldiers nodded apprehensively, fear rising in their bloodshot eyes.

  Looking back across the street at Tatu, he waited for the Romanian to finish briefing the soldiers around him, then saw him indicate he was ready.

  The commander raised his gloved hand, the tension mounting in the soldiers as they waited for him to indicate for them to run across the exposed street. As his arm dropped, the troops lunged forward, their boots propelling them across the frozen street.

  Hausser ran into the dark alleyway, Tatu behind him, as he stopped by the side the other men joined him. The distant rifle crack was too late to claim a casualty, the bullet whistling past behind them, the Russian sniper having too little time to react. The bullet ricocheted off the building wall at the end of the street, the sound of the distant shot seeming to hang in the freezing air.

  The young commander checked the street behind them, ensuring all the soldiers had crossed, then turned sharply, advancing down the alley. The troops followed him slowly, all considering their close encounter with a Russian sniper.

  As Hausser reached the end of the alley, he could see the small fountain in the moonlight, the statue damaged from shell fragments. To his left, around the small circular fountain base sat the steps and entrance to the local party headquarters, the solid wooden doors closed and locked. To either side of the entrance, two pillars bordered the three steps rising to the double doors, the front of the building pock-marked from the impact of numerous bullets.

  Seeing a light flickering from within, Hausser indicated for the soldiers to wait in the alleyway behind him whilst he approached the entrance. Glancing out, he saw here was a small side window, the light coming from the opening, the silhouette inside the building smoking. He hissed in the darkness, ‘Achtung! Freund!’

  Movement and shuffling inside the building as the soldier guarding the entrance raised his rifle, then the response, a determined challenge, ‘Kommen sie aus!’

  Stepping from the alleyway, Leutnant Hausser walked cautiously forward. Seeing the sentry acknowledge him, he proceeded half crouched towards the steps, raising his right boot to ascend the three steps as the door opened slightly, a shaft of candlelight spilling from inside.

  The muzzle of a rifle was slowly pushed out of the opening, pointing directly at him, the expression on the frightened soldier’s face within clearly very cautious.

  The young commander stopped on the second step, declaring himself, ‘Leutnant Hausser, 76th Infantry Division. We have come to relieve you.’

  The soldier behind the door hesitated briefly, then lowered the rifle, ‘My apologies, Herr Leutnant, please come inside.’ The door opened, the flickering light cascading from the doorway as the gap became wider.

  Hausser stepped forward, indicating for his men to follow him, the young commander slipping through the narrow opening. Straining his eyes to adjust to the light, he dusted the shoulders of his greatcoat, the frozen moisture falling from his heavy jacket.

  The soldier before him saluted, lowering his weapon further. Hausser glanced to the left, seeing the young soldier that had been at the small window click his heels formally, his salute stiff and mechanical. The commander smiled weakly, saluting back, ‘How many men have you here?’

  ‘Twenty three.’ The soldier replied with a regimented tone, ‘Thank you for coming, sir…we could do with a rest.’

  Hausser’s eyes widened, ‘What’s it like here?’

  The German infantryman stepped towards him nervously, ‘The Russians are in the buildings between us and the river sir. Their positions are well defended with snipers and machine guns, but they seem to have little appetite to attack at present. We inflicted some heavy casualties on them the night before last, killing several of their officers.’

  Hausser nodded slowly, ‘I see.’ He moved to the side as Tatu pushed the door open wider, stepping inside and shaking his jacket, the frost dropping onto the marble floor in the entrance hall. Several soldiers stepped in behind him, the troops keen to get out of the bitter cold. The entrance hall had been finely furnished and equipped before the arrival of the current occupants, an impressive central staircase leading to the administrative offices on the first floor, the stairs splitting to either side from a middle landing. The ground floor offices of the NKVD accessed from hallways on either side of the building.

  Seeing the German soldiers’ expressions of surprise as they recognised some Romanian uniforms, Hausser walked across to the reception desk, the nails on his boots clicking across the marble tiles. As the soldiers slipped through the doorway behind him, he leant against the sturdy desk, ‘We have a number of different soldiers with us, this unit represents the harmony that can be achieved between Germany and her allies. Now where is your commander please?’ He turned, the candlelight behind him, his eyebrows raised at the nearest sentry.

  The soldier swallowed, nodding sheepishly, ‘Er, yes sir, I will get him for you.’ The young man quickly moved to the central staircase, climbing the steps two at a time.

  Hausser turned to look at Tatu, seeing the exasperated expression on his face at what he had just said, he grinned, winking. Tatu shook his head, ‘I have heard everything now!’ He grinned back, cuffing the back of Udet’s helmet as the young German walked past him, his head moving around in awe as he studied the entrance hall with some surprise.

  Hausser indicated with his hand to Tatu, ‘Let’s keep the men in two squads, you lead one, myself the other. Petru and Alessio with you, Udet and Hase with me?’

  Tatu nodded, ‘That’s fine, Herr Leutn
ant.’ His response wary of the remaining German sentry who stood next to him, ‘Do you want me on the ground floor or the first?’

  Hausser thought for a second, ‘You take downstairs, I will move between the two with Udet and Hase.’ He glanced upwards as he heard boots on the marble stairs, seeing an officer turn the corner from the left staircase and descend to the middle landing, he raised his hand in salute.

  The captain saluted as he descended the marble steps, his uniform covered in dust, but virtually immaculate by comparison to the dirty and stained combat clothing of the arrivals standing in the entrance hall. He was of similar height to Hausser, his frame thin, his face flushed, jovial and accommodating a large scar on the left cheek, his hair black with greying sides beneath his helmet.

  As his boots clicked onto the marble tiles on the ground floor, the captain’s eyes widened, taking in the spectacle of the soldiers before him, his eyes straining, ‘My God, where have you men been?’

  Hausser stepped forward, extending his hand, ‘Leutnant Hausser, sir. My men and I have been in the front line for days, then the sewers.’

  The captain grinned, his nose twitching, his grey eyes wide, ‘The sewers were not far from my mind, Leutnant. Your presence precedes you in that sense.’ His grin widened, shaking Hausser’s hand, ‘Let’s place your men around the building, then you and I can have a chat, eh, Leutnant?’

  Hausser nodded willingly, ‘Yes sir.’ He indicated to Tatu with his right hand to disperse his men on the ground floor, pointing to the corridors leaving the entrance hall on both sides, then turned to face the captain again.

  Tatu started barking orders to the men, indicating which side of the building each of them should proceed along. As Alessio stood before Tatu, the Romanian quartermaster smiled briefly, ‘Ah, our Italian, go and find a spot you can make a nuisance of yourself from, but keep your head down!’ Alessio smiled grimly in response, making his way up the stairs ahead of the men.

  The captain turned stepping back towards the staircase with Hausser following, the soldiers walking briskly to either side of him towards their prospective corridors.

  The captain turned his face to look at the man next to him, ‘I am Hauptmann Ebner, 389th Infantry Division, the command post is upstairs. You will find there is little movement around here, the Russians concentrating their forces further north and south. We blunted their attack here the night before last quite effectively, so I imagine they will lick their wounds for a few days.’ He glanced at Hausser, ‘Your men can probably have as close to a rest as they can imagine under the circumstances, we have done your work for you.’

  The young commander nodded, smiling, ‘Thank you sir, did you lose many men?’

  The captain’s grey eyes became saddened as they reached the landing, ‘Yes, five. Not many I know, but I am very attached to the men under my command, so any loss is regrettable if you know what I mean?’ He continued up the stairs to the left, Hausser following behind him. Further down the staircase, Udet and Hase followed, six troops behind them.

  Reaching the top of the marble steps, the captain indicated to a room opposite, ‘This is where the field telephone is, and I have made my quarters there…you may wish to do the same. The telephone is connected to the Major’s headquarters, so if you need anything, just ring. It usually takes around one hour to get here.’ He hesitated, thinking for a second, then shrugged, ‘Actually, he has only come here once, I always went to him to report.’

  Meino slipped past them, winking at Hausser, with three soldiers following. The captain smiling as he saw the gesture, ‘Interesting unit you have Leutnant Hausser.’ He blinked, rubbing his right eye with his hand, his expression then becoming more serious, ‘The telephone wires may be cut if they start shelling. Usually they send someone out quite quickly, the major likes to keep regular contact with the front line units, so they will notice almost immediately. He is a good commander, very sympathetic to the soldiers manning the defences.’

  He turned, walking along the corridor towards the back of the building, stopping after a few metres, the floorboards creaking. Indicating to the blocked windows, he coughed, then spoke, ‘As you can see, we have barricaded all the windows, much to the annoyance of the Russian snipers.’ Pointing further down the darkening corridor, approximately fifteen metres in length, he continued, ‘There are observation or firing points set into each opening and at the end there are two offices with sandbagged windows and machine guns. They cover the approaches and keep the Russians’ heads down.’ His face became grim, ‘There are a couple of blind spots though. Diagonally approaching the corners of the building is outside the arcs of the guns, so you will have to deploy riflemen to keep watch on these routes. The Russians know this and that’s how they attacked recently. You can put additional men in the buildings next door, but they are quite exposed and I don’t think you have enough.’

  Hausser grinned warmly, ‘Thank you sir, your briefing was very informative.’

  The captain nodded, a smirk fleetingly crossing his face, ‘I will send runners to notify the units on either side that you do not have enough men to cover the adjoining buildings, which should prompt them to give you some support.’ He hesitated, then spoke more softly, aware of the soldiers passing them, ‘I have sent out a small patrol to check the surrounding units, so when they return, please advise them to follow us to the warehouse.’

  Hausser thought for a second, then looked up, ‘Yes, Herr Hauptmann…should we put out patrols?’

  The captain shook his head, ‘There is little need to be honest, it just places the men in danger. I only did so to ensure I gave you up to date information. The Russians are now virtually static, and you have too few men to risk losing any. Your view of the surroundings is excellent in clear weather, so why provoke casualties? There are tripwires placed in some places before the building, that should give you enough warning if the Russians get too ambitious.’

  Hausser smiled, happy not to be sending men outside in the bitter cold, ‘Thank you. Is there anything else I should know Sir?’

  The captain grinned, his scar rising up as he did so, ‘What little supplies you will receive will come every two days in the morning. They will approach from the rear and it is your responsibility to warm the rations downstairs. You are at the end of the supply line from the 389th, so the food has to come quite a distance, it is usually frozen when it gets here.’ He walked back towards the Leutnant, ‘Still, you won’t want for ice in a drink!’ He laughed briefly, reaching into his tunic and retrieving a packet of cigarettes, offering them to Hausser.

  Hausser looked down at the white packet with a red circle in the middle, the American cigarettes he had seen several days earlier. Looking up, the captain saw the curiosity on the young Leutnant’s face.

  Captain Ebner smiled again, ‘We looted the Russian supplies in the basement and there is also some nice food there. But use it sparingly, we want some when we come back. There are still some cigarettes down there too, it seems the communist hierarchy was perhaps a little more equal than the Russians around them.’ His smile widened to grin.

  Hausser nodded, ‘Thank you sir, that is very kind.’

  The captain placed his hand on Hausser’s shoulder, ‘Well, Leutnant, that is it.’ He lowered his voice as his men began to pass him, descending the staircase on their way to assemble in the entrance hall. ‘You seem to have some very organised men here; I will take my leave whilst it is still dark. I don’t want the Russians seeing us depart, it might give them ideas.’

  Hausser smiled briefly, ‘There is a sniper aimed at the end of the alleyway, be careful there.’

  The captain’s eyebrows raised, ‘Really? I thought we got him. Oh well, be careful, he is quite a good shot and he doesn’t seem to feel the cold.’

  Hausser slowly walked down the staircase with the captain, enjoying his company, ‘So when do you think you will return?’

  The captain started pulling on his gloves, a soldier handing him his overcoat, ‘Per
haps a week, maybe longer. I will have a drink with our friend, Major Slusser and discuss it in a while. We have known each other since before the war, so I imagine he will do his best to provide some sort of homecoming for us.’

  Hausser grinned, ‘He has retreated onto Russian Vodka now, I think the Schnapps is all gone.’

  The captain’s eyes widened, then he grinned again as he pulled his large overcoat up over his shoulders, ‘Perhaps he will have one last bottle saved for an old friend.’ They now stood at the bottom of the staircase, the entrance hall virtually full of the captain’s troops. The officer looked around, surveying his men and concluding they were all present. Turning to Hausser, he smiled faintly, ‘Well, it is time to go, Leutnant. I hope you have a pleasant stay.’ The captain raised his hand, saluting Hausser, the young Leutnant returning the gesture.

  Turning, Hauptmann Ebner buttoned his greatcoat and took the MP40 one of his men offered him. The door opened and the soldiers filed out, the cold breeze sweeping into the entrance hall and causing the candle to flicker. As all the troops exited the building, the captain stood in the doorway, turning to look at Hausser, ‘Place two men on the door at all times, this is virtually their only way in.’ He raised his hand in gesture, ‘Take care…see you in a week or so.’

  Hausser nodded, ‘Give my regards to the major please, and be careful.’ He saluted as the door closed with a thud behind the captain.

  Chapter Fifty Two: Paying the Penalty for Mistakes

  Two hundred metres east of the political headquarters in the basement of a machine shop, the candles flickered. The building above virtually destroyed, the soldiers stood expectantly, the cool air drifting down the staircase at the end of the long room.

  The Russian officer stepped along the line of men before him, his eyes scrutinising each man. His uniform well pressed, with red piping and shoulder straps complimenting the red band around his officer’s cap. Reaching the end of the line of soldiers, he smiled briefly as he looked into the eyes of the infantryman in front of him, the right side of his face flushed. ‘Private Medvedev. Your conduct is no surprise.’