The major turned, shaking his head dismissively, ‘Perhaps I had better head for Sixth Army Headquarters now, Herr Oberleutnant. I have important despatches to deliver and am to await a reply before returning to Von Manstein’s headquarters in the south.’
They trudged back towards the armoured personnel carrier, the engine burbling in the cold morning frost. The driver of the kubelwagen who was busy fastening the tarpaulin cover tightly around the roof, glanced at them as they approached. He moved round the small jeep in response, climbing into the driver’s seat and gunning the engine, a plume of blue-grey smoke billowing from the exhaust.
Major Eismann walked to the back of the armoured car, awaiting the doors to open from inside, ‘I think I will travel with my escort if possible, I would like to chat with the men!’ He grinned, lowering his frame to climb through the rear doors.
Hausser indicated to the four men with him, ‘In we go, we will take it in turns to man the exposed machine gun.’ He leant forward as Tatu passed, his voice lowering to a whisper, ‘Don’t upset the senior officer my friend, we don’t want to get ourselves in trouble!’
Tatu shrugged in his large coat, grinning his voice also a whisper, ‘Not sure what he could punish us with more than we are already experiencing.’ He clambered into the back of the carrier, his PPSH 41 submachine gun hanging from the strap over his shoulder.
Major Eismann smiled warmly at the antics of the men on the back of the armoured personnel carrier, the half tracked vehicle jolting along the deep snow covered track from Gumrak. Raising a cigarette to his mouth, he nodded in gratitude as Hausser leant forward to light it, ‘So Leutnant, you seem to have rather a rag-tag squad here…where did you meet?’
Hausser straightened up, accepting the cigarette offered by the major, ‘We met on the southern flank of the city Sir…’ He indicated to Petru and Tatu, ‘Both these orphans are from the Romanian division there, the other two went with me to the south.’
Major Eismann nodded inquisitively, ‘Were you near the Russian offensive when it hit?’
Tatu slowly lowered himself opposite the intelligence officer, his expression dark, ‘Yes…the Russians attacked all around us…destroyed my kitchens and all our men…it was a slaughter.’ He waved his hand towards Hausser, shrugging and grinning mischievously, ‘This German officer needed help, so my friend and I assisted him and his men back towards the southern suburbs of the city…without us, who knows where they would have ended up…’
Udet coughed, hiding a smirk behind his gloved hand and staring up towards Leutnant Hausser for his reaction. The young officer’s eyes narrowed as he stared at the Romanian quartermaster, Major Eismann turning his head away to grin as Petru looked round having just roughly translated in his thoughts. Hase smiled in response to the others behaviour, bewildered by the conversation in German.
Hausser concealed a smile, gritting his teeth as the personnel carrier lurched into a rut beneath the snow, ‘So the old Romanian quartermaster and his friend assisted the German Wehrmacht to the city outskirts…interesting version of events. May I ask you to clarify a point for the major here…who had the map?’
Tatu’s eyes sparkled as he glanced round the soldiers in the back of the carrier, their eyes fixed on him expectantly. He drew breath, hesitating deliberately, then looked Hausser in the eyes, ‘Ah yes, Herr Leutnant, I agree we let you have the map all the way…’ He glanced at Hase, winking, ‘…But how else would you have learnt?’
Major Eismann burst out laughing, pointing at Hausser as the young officer forced a grin in defiance at Tatu. Petru leant forward, slapping Hase on the shoulder and grinning as he realised the younger soldier had no idea what had just been said. Udet grinned widely, grabbing Hase’s other shoulder playfully as Tatu sat back triumphantly, adjusting his jacket in an exaggerated manner as if to portray importance. The major laughed even harder at the large Romanian’s behaviour, throwing his head back as the vehicle started to climb a slope, the engine revving harder as the driver in the front compartment dropped a gear.
Petru straightened up, turning to stare along the barrel of the heavy machine gun placed in the angular steel defensive plate above the driver. Resting his arm across the top of the armoured plate and adjusting his scarf and great coat collar against the freezing breeze. He stared out over the front of the Sdkfz 251’s angular long bonnet, the kubelwagen Jeep’s wheels spinning in the snow before them. Then he stiffened, seeing the figures in the distance. Turning quickly, he indicated to Hausser, the officer lighting a cigarette, ‘Herr Leutnant…’ He pointed forwards, ‘…Figures in the distance!’
Hausser nodded to the major, rising from the seat opposite Tatu and stepping between the knees of the men as he approached the machine gun position. Looking out, his eyes widened, seeing the shuffling wounded as they approached, the engines in the carrier revving again as the kubelwagen shot forward, the tyres gaining grip momentarily.
The men struggled to the sides of the track to allow the oncoming vehicles to pass. Their bandaged and crippled bodies shuffling in the deep snow as they attempted to make way. The group of twenty to twenty five soldiers were the first group of wounded from the city that morning, the soldiers that could walk being required to now make their own way to the airfield for the potential opportunity to fly out of the pocket due to the fuel shortages.
As the personnel carrier approached, the wounded soldiers struggled into the deep snow at one side of the track, their faces rising to look at the occupants of the vehicle. The seated men inside the armoured vehicle rose up to look out, curious to see what the young Leutnant and the Romanian were staring at.
Twenty or so drawn and exhausted faces stared up at the six men in the back of the carrier, their thin bodies and broken expressions portraying the hardships and deprivations they had faced. Several attempted to painfully salute, seeing the major’s greatcoat and officer’s cap, their damaged bodies stiffening instinctively and from their training. Three men were supported by others, their eagerness for a chance of departing the pocket spurring them through the pain of the long trudge to the airfield.
Leutnant Hausser raised his right hand to his helmet, saluting in return, his eyes panning above the group of men into the snow covered field beyond. Two burnt out Russian tanks stood motionless in the field, their torn hulks evidence of the Sixth Army’s advance the previous summer. Beyond them one German tank sat in the distance, its turret some yards away from the main steel body. All three tanks were covered in a thick layer of frozen snow, their steel hulls showing the signs of weather damage, their crews all dead inside. Beneath the thick layer of snow many bodies lay contorted in death, frozen solid under the extreme weather conditions, the occasional hand stretching out of the white shroud above. The Russian soldiers had paid a high price to delay the German advance, the Stuka dive bombers having swept down and obliterated their defensive positions.
Major Eismann nodded to the group of men, his face solemn as he returned the salute, the visible state of the soldiers clearly disturbing him. As the personnel carrier lumbered past, the wounded men slowly began to trudge away, shuffling through the snow towards Gumrak airfield and the chance of a flight out of Stalingrad.
Chapter Seventy Two: A City Revisited
The armoured personnel carrier turned onto a tarmacked road heading east, picking up speed on one of the main thoroughfares into the southern sector of the city. The kubelwagen jeep accelerating ahead as the metal tracks of the Sdkfz 251 clattered along the frozen and snow covered cement. Smoke and dust filled the frozen sky on the horizon, the Russian shelling from the eastern bank continuing most of the morning.
Only Hausser and Hase remained standing in the carrier, the others having retreated to the seats below in shelter from the bitingly cold air. Resting their gloved hands on the cold upper steel plate of the vehicle as it jolted over the cobblestones, the two soldiers surveyed the scenes around them…a different city from the one they had advanced into some eight months earlier. Heavy sn
ow clouds moved overhead, the dull light complimented by the freezing temperatures that bit at their exposed features.
Passing through the destroyed outer suburbs, the mostly wooden housing now completely devastated, the soldiers looked grimly at the single chimneys and exposed lower snow covered brick structures, any remaining wood or combustible material having been scavenged and taken or dragged into the city for warmth.
Amongst the shattered ruins, the occasional bedraggled civilian, raggedly dressed, sat staring at the ruins of their previous home or dwelling, some pushing or struggling through the debris for any signs of food or warmth. Most of the surviving populace now lived in any cellars or sewers, grouping together to offer some collective warmth and protection against the elements or shelling. There were no longer any pets in the city…the civilians were now destined to share the same fate as some of the military defenders…to starve to death. Only one creature’s existence was blossoming amongst the rubble…the rat population was rapidly increasing with plenty of cold flesh to eat.
Occasionally they would drive past small groups of wounded shuffling out towards the airfield or military police sentries guarding checkpoints to prevent deserters or to protect the meagrely stocked supply areas. As they began to pass low brick or stone foundations, the six soldiers looked across broken parks and destroyed or abandoned equipment. Shell craters now topped with snow covered what had been parkland for the residents in peacetime, the days of lying or sitting relaxing in the summer sun now long since passed.
The metal tracks clattered past a burnt out German armoured car, bouncing over some discarded metal boxes across the street beneath the snow covering. The outside of the destroyed vehicle beginning to rust after six months in the exposed elements, the car stripped bare of all usable equipment. Glancing towards the hulk, they saw the large gash in the metal side plate, the shell piercing through the thinner side section and instantly ending the lives of the crew. Buildings of several stories began to appear, the modern apartment blocks provided by the communist state scarred with the signs of war.
Blackened shattered windows, broken exposed frontages and bullet pocked masonry and brickwork demonstrating the ferocity of the fighting for the city that had continued for eight months. Sullen and withdrawn faces looked out as the armoured carrier passed by, the sounds of the clattering tracks drawing the attention of civilians and billeted soldiers alike…a vehicle on the roads now rare due to fuel shortages. Several buildings were completely destroyed, the debris and broken masonry strewn across the road, the insides of the once ornate structures exposed to the elements and bitter cold. The snow shrouded destruction was all around, broken and abandoned non-combustible equipment strewn across the pavements and rubble as they progressed.
They passed many more destroyed and burnt out vehicles, their scorched hulks evidence of the battle leading into the city. Armoured cars and tanks covered in iced snow, the broken machinery abandoned and now useless. The occasional body could be seen above the snow, the recently deceased civilians having died of exposure or frostbite, their limbs frozen into the snow that half covered them.
Hase indicated to a building ahead, his scarf covered face turning to look at the young commander inquisitively, ‘Did we not pass there before?’
Hausser shrugged grimly, ‘It seems such a long time ago now…it may be the same building, but I feel we are now different…’ He glanced round, trying to get his bearings, seeing the hulk of the tall grain elevator in the distance to the south and the hill of Mamayev Kurgan rising up to the north.
Hase nodded silently, following Hausser’s gaze, his hands moving back to the front plate protecting the machine gun position, his eyes narrowing against the biting cold.
The carrier slowed as a checkpoint loomed into view ahead, the two military policemen stepping into the road to indicate for them to stop. The sandbagged positions on either side of the two lane street housed two MG34 machine guns, their crews lowered beneath the emplacement walls due to the cold with only the tops of their helmets visible. The buildings either side of them were severely damaged, the shattered walls hanging precariously where their supports had collapsed. Piles of masonry and broken brick lay around the positions, the snow rising up the machine gun positions towards the tops of the sandbags.
Hausser rolled his eyes, his voice a whisper of distain, ‘More Kettenhunde!’ He noticed a distant Russian artillery piece beyond the sentries, the broken gun leaning at an angle, one wheel buckled. The barrel broken as the crew had attempted to destroy the pak gun before the advancing Germans captured it, their ammunition spent.
One of the military policeman raised his hand as the carrier slowed further, his other hand on his MP40 submachine gun. As the engine began to idle, the sentry strode down the side of the armoured plate, staring at the two soldiers above, his voice demanding, ‘Which unit are you from?’
Leutnant Hausser grimaced, staring down at the polished gorget across the man’s chest, ‘76th Infantry Division, we are on our way to Sixth Army Headquarters escorting a high ranking officer.’
The sentry seemed unimpressed, his voice still challenging, ‘You are a long way from your unit…and entering the military district of Stalingrad, have you any papers to justify this?’ The machine gunners slowly appeared above the sandbags, their expressions curious as to what was happening, one moving the machine gun across slowly.
Hausser sighed, his voice rising in exasperation, ‘I am also a Leutnant…that should at least provoke a salute…even from the military police…’
His voice trailed off as Major Eismann rose next to him, firmly grasping his arm.
The military policeman’s eyes widened, his heels clicking together as he recognised the senior rank of the officer next to Hausser, a hand rising in salute.
Major Eismann stared down at the soldier, his face grim, ‘What the Leutnant says is the truth, what is the meaning of this stop?’
The policemen looked uncomfortable, his face flushing, ‘Er…yes Sir. We are ordered to challenge all personnel on the road. We are checking for deserters and those that are not wounded properly.’
The major leant forward, resting his elbow on the side of the carrier, his voice firm, ‘I understand you have your orders, but military etiquette defines that you would salute a more senior officer…it also would defy belief that a deserter would attempt to re-enter the fighting zone in an armoured car.’ His eyes narrowed as he stared firmly at the policeman, ‘Am I not correct?’
The military policeman nodded vigorously, his voice apologetic, ‘Of course Sir…I meant no disrespect by my actions, it’s just we hear so many excuses…’
The major’s voice rose in anger as he interrupted, ‘Excuses! These are front line soldiers you are referring to…and you think they may not be wounded properly enough!’ He indicated to the great coated policeman’s body, ‘As I can see…you also do not seem to have suffered quite the same deprivations as the soldiers of the front line…tell me why that is?’
The middle aged policeman was clearly becoming stressed, his colleague slowly backing away, ‘W-we are issued rations in accordance with our unit strength Sir. Our commander is in charge of such things…not us.’
Major Eismann nodded, his expression darkening, ‘So tell me…how many casualties has your unit experienced since the start of the campaign in this city?’
The policeman shuffled uncomfortably, his voice low, ‘Approximately forty to fifty percent Sir…shelling mostly…some lost in the Russian attacks.’
The major nodded, ‘Thank you private, I will be speaking to General Von Paulus personally today and will bring to his attention that your unit does not seem to be reporting its losses in accordance with supply regulations.’ He straightened up, poking Hausser gently in the ribs beneath the armoured plate, ‘Now kindly let us pass and inform your commander he will shortly be joining the ranks of the frontline troops…’ He leant forward again, staring at the frightened soldier, ‘You can advise him that Field Marshall
Von Manstein’s intelligence officer, Major Eismann, spoke to you today…’
The military policeman stepped back in shock, clicking his heels to attention and waving frantically for the other policeman to let them pass, ‘Yes Sir!’ His hand shot to his helmet as he stared up at the two officers, his expression clearly uncomfortable.
The major nodded and ducked down, leaving Hausser and Hase to stare at the perplexed military policeman, his voice resounding round the vehicle’s interior, ‘Drive on!’
As the engine revved, the clouds of blue-grey exhaust swirled around the policeman, the tracks surging round as the carrier moved forward. Hausser slowly raised his hand in salute, Hase shrugged innocently and also saluting as the vehicle moved through the checkpoint. The young officer turned to look at him incredulously as laughter broke out inside the vehicle, pushing the ‘Hiwi’ playfully as he grinned, ‘Dummkopf!’ The military policemen and machine gunners still staring at them as the armoured carrier accelerated away.
Chapter Seventy Three: Sixth Army Headquarters
The journey had continued, becoming grimmer as the frozen bodies by the sides of the street increased in number, their limbs contorted in death. Surviving civilians sat in doorways or behind broken walls, their expressions blank and emotionless as they waited…waited for the end, many unwilling or unable to continue mentally. The bitter cold gradually seeping through their clothing and dragging their body temperatures down.
Passing through a final checkpoint without issue, the armoured personnel carrier drew to a halt across the wide street from the Univermag department store. Numerous other vehicles stood motionless along the sides of the wide Red Square where the store stood at the corner. The ornate grand five storey building had been impressive in peacetime, with a pillared entrance leading to the many floors of displayed goods for the local population.
Bloody Stalingrad Page 64