The basement room was mostly in darkness, a faint glow emanating from a room in the distance as they stepped cautiously around empty coal bunkers, the once wooden sections stripped of any combustible material. Torn and ripped tarpaulin sheets lay across the floor, the previous occupants having searched the area thoroughly for any fuel or food.
Hausser hesitated as he saw the boots ahead, the dead Russian soldier lying next to the broken section in the wall ahead. As he stared, one boot twitched, the commander raising his MP40 warily towards the body. Indicating for the two behind to wait with his hand, he stepped forward cautiously, moving to stand opposite the twitching leg, his weapon held forward as he held his breath.
Nausea rose within him, the leg twitching again as several large rats feasted on the corpse’s thigh and chest. He stared incredulously as the nearest rodent simply looked up at him, blood soaking its jaws as it continued eating. The size of the rats was well above what they were used to, the signs of a nourishing diet on human flesh apparent. Stepping sideways to the opening in the wall, he crouched to move through, his eyes fixed on the macabre spectacle before him.
Udet stared down as he followed, swallowing hard as he stepped through the opening, his body beginning to ache continuously as he lifted his boot through the man-made hole. Hase looked away, his hatred of rats from childhood turning his stomach as he saw the darkened face at the end of the body, the lifeless eyes staring at the ceiling, the chest torn from bullet wounds.
In the next room, the scene was repeated. The rats feasting ravenously on two more corpses. One slumped against the wall, his legs spread and head bowed, the blood having dribbled from his mouth across and down his brown tunic. The oversized vermin were pulling at his arms, one eating into his side as the body moved slightly, the determined rodents slowly stripping their victim of flesh.
The other body lay next to the next opening, the soldier having turned to warn the others as the German soldiers entered the basement, his shout cut short with a burst of machine gun fire. Face down, the blood was congealed around him, his many wounds seeping crimson liquid onto the dusty cement floor.
This room was empty, stripped of anything that would burn as protection against the cold. The three soldiers stepped around the last victim, their faces turned away as the rodents glanced up at them defiantly, sensing their lifelong human adversary was weakened beyond response…and soon resistance.
Hausser reached the stairs, glancing upwards and seeing a German soldier looking down at him, the young infantryman forcing a smile as he raised his rifle away from the officer, ‘Are the rats still down there?’
The Leutnant nodded grimly as he began to climb the stairs, ‘Yes…and they are having dinner.’ He looked upwards again, ‘Is the captain in the building above?’
The soldier nodded, his face drawn after losing weight, ‘Yes Herr Leutnant. The second floor perhaps…that is where the wounded are.’ The soldier wearily rose to let him past, acknowledging the two soldiers emerging below as they followed their officer up the stairs, their expressions subdued from the sights in the cellars.
Making their way up to the second floor, they passed hungry and tired soldiers, the cold beginning to bite into the buildings as dusk set in. Snowflakes drifted down outside, the clouds above heavy with a frozen storm. Gunfire from the riverside of the building and surrounding districts rang out, the snipers and nervous soldiers exchanging fire across the frontline.
Hausser stumbled as he reached the top step, catching his boot on the floorboards, his head swimming with dizziness momentarily. Reaching out, he steadied himself against the wall, then stepped forward, seeing the captain at the end of the corridor speaking to one of his men. Lifting the MP40 strap onto his shoulder, he approached the officer, the man turning as he stepped near.
‘Leutnant Hausser, Herr Hauptmann.’ He saluted formally, stiffening.
The captain raised his hand in return, smiling at the three soldiers, his deep scar seeming to twitch, ‘You did a good job, Leutnant. We just don’t have the ammunition to suppress or scare the Russkies enough now…’ He indicated to the rooms away from the river, ‘There are several wounded, so we have put them in the less exposed rooms. A couple are critical, but it is unlikely we will be able to get them away and as far as Gumrak airfield with the enemy in the buildings around us. The storm coming in would also probably kill them if they were exposed outside.’
Hausser nodded grimly, the captain continuing, ‘A number have frostbite, one losing two toes to a rat while he slept…’ He shook his head in frustration, ‘I just hope Von Manstein gets here soon… we need the supplies.’ He slapped Hausser’s arm, ‘It looks like you and your men could do with some food?’ The captain grinned widely as he saw Udet’s face brighten, ‘There is not much, but Sixth Army sent some additional rations for the men after their attack and we captured some potatoes from the Russians in the other block.’ He sighed despondently, ‘There is also more to go round…we lost thirty two soldiers in the assault.’
Leutnant Hausser’s eyes widened, ‘Thank you Herr Hauptmann…I had no idea we lost so many…’
The captain shrugged, ‘The initial advance and fighting in the other building cost us the most men…inexperienced troops against machine guns mostly. The Russkies lost a lot of their soldiers though…I have a feeling they may give it up in the next few days now they are cut off.’
Hausser nodded again, the captain’s eyes widening, ‘I understand you should head back to your unit soon. I relayed a message as you requested to a Major Schenk of the 76th before the attack and I am sure he will be awaiting your return.’ Lifting his hands to his hips, he nodded, grinning at Udet, ‘Your job here is done…have something to eat first, then set off under darkness along the waterway and back to the headquarters in the centre, there should be some billets near there. Tomorrow, you can make your way north towards your unit…perhaps get a lift from a unit on its way to Gumrak?’
Udet tried to conceal a grin, his body yearning for something to eat as Hausser stepped back, his frame stiffening as he saluted, ‘Thank you Herr Hauptmann…we will head off shortly.’
The captain stared at Hase, seeming to study the soldier’s features with interest, ‘There are some tarpaulin sheets on the ground floor the Russkies brought, make sure you get one each for your trek north…it will be very cold.’
Hase nodded instinctively, used to pretending he understood when he was being closely scrutinised, the captain seeming to lose interest and glancing back at Hausser. He extended his hand, ‘Good luck Leutnant…and thank you for your help here. I will send a further message to your commander later for his records.’
The three ate heartily, their bodies unused to the quantity made available in the makeshift kitchen. The meat soup with three slices of thick bread was supplemented by two potatoes each, the captain ordering each of them to receive an additional potato in preparation for their trek back. None of them talked about what meat they had consumed, but all three knew it was probably horse flesh, the animals that had carried equipment and men so far now being sacrificed to keep them alive. Udet thought of the men that would be devastated at losing their animal companions, their protests ignored as quartermasters insisted they relinquish the horses under their care.
Carrying two mess tins back for Tatu and Petru, they crept back through the basement rooms, their bodies tired as the food was absorbed and digested. Several soldiers passed in the opposite direction, on their way to receive their own rations, the food distributed in waves as the soldiers kept watch on the Russians in the floors above.
Petru was overjoyed to see them, his eyes filling with emotion as he grasped the shoulders of Hase and Udet, nodding in thankful respect to Hausser. Tatu was more withdrawn, Petru explaining his countryman was annoyed at not finding a way up to attack the Russians above. Hausser had crouched down next to the two Romanians as they ate greedily, attempting to placate Tatu’s mood by reminding him of the recipes he used to prepare as quartermaster.
This went with reasonable success until Petru interjected that his countryman and friend used too much spice in the dishes and the commander then admitted defeat, grinning and rising as the two Romanians started arguing in their own language. The heated discussion was finally ended as he mentioned that there was probably no spice left anywhere in the city, so there was no point in continuing the discussion. Tatu clambered to his feet abruptly, glaring down at Petru, a twinkle in his eyes as he announced the next meal he would cook for them all would be indeed spicy, but a spice he would locate that his ignorant countryman may not awaken from.
The snowflakes fell continuously in the darkness, the clouded sky preventing the temperature from falling to its lowest level. The muffled gunfire continued across the city, German and Russian soldiers attacking or defending rooms or floors viciously against their enemy as the occasional shell fell from Russian guns on the other side of the Volga. The surviving residents huddled in cellars or sewers, their existence now from minute to minute as they awaited a bullet or disgruntled soldier to end their desperate lives.
Wrapping the tarpaulin sheeting around them, Hausser slapped Tatu’s arm, his mood lightened from the food they had received, ‘Perhaps Von Manstein will have a lead tank bring some spices up for you my friend!’
Tatu grunted, glaring at Petru as he laughed, Udet and Hase grinning as they raised the scarves across their mouths and noses. Pulling their helmets down and ensuring the greatcoat collars were raised, they then checked each other’s tarpaulin sheets, wrapping them round their shoulders in protection against the biting cold.
Trudging down the wooden stairs towards the rear door, they felt the temperature drop, the sentry on the exit now limited to fifteen minute rotations. Hausser glanced out into the darkness, the pathway along the riverbank extending off to the left into the snowflakes and darkness. The bitter cold nipped at his exposed features, his breath held in his mouth as he felt his body fight the outside temperature, his eyes blinking continuously to fight the frost. The cloud of exhaled breath twisted with the falling snow as he reluctantly stepped out, his body hugging the side of the building as he walked, the others behind.
Udet bit his lips, the bitter temperature nearly too much to bear as he stepped into the snow, his teeth beginning to chatter as his thinner body shook involuntarily. Behind him, Tatu sighed, ‘Finally solve the problem of freezing food…and we have not got any! Damn you Russia!’
The group trudged on, the snow landing and resting on their tarpaulin sheeting as they strode forwards in the darkness, wary of becoming disorientated. Hausser kept talking to Tatu and involving the others, reminding them it was not far, that they were only walking at night to avoid any Russian fire. Their boots crunched through the snow as they walked, the Leutnant in front wary of a path that should come up from the left, the path back to the road network and a short walk through the streets to seek quarter. They trudged on, unaware of the freezing bodies on the iced waterway further down the riverbank to their right. The snow covered bodies of twenty six Russian prisoners taken in the buildings behind them.
Chapter Eighty: Red Square, Stalingrad
They were offered an area in one of the buildings in Red Square to sleep in…an old office block, the Univermag Department store towering opposite them in the darkness. The large square was dark apart from the occasional sentries’ cigarettes and candle light flickering in some of the windows. Soldiers shivered as the snow continued to fall heavily, the temperature low and frost clawing across the building fronts. With nearly all the windows gone, the building fronts pocked with bullet marks, the sleeping men sought rooms and corridors within the structures to shelter from the elements, the occasional small fire or smouldering oil drum offering minimal comfort against the cold.
Sleeping in a corridor, soldiers around them, the men slept next to each other for warmth, their tarpaulin covers and greatcoats wrapped around them. As dawn approached, Hausser rose and quietly awakened Tatu, the two men stealing off in an attempt to locate some food.
After a brief search, they located the chief quartermaster and kitchens for the units in the square. Situated in the delivery section of a basement, the two men approached cautiously, lining up with several other soldiers as they awaited an audience with the oberleutnant in charge of the supply area.
Finally, after about thirty minutes, they progressed to the front of the queue, most soldiers before them leaving with an authorisation slip for food from the kitchens. The soldier before them then left, slipping past them as the oberleutnant called out for the next soldiers.
Hausser stepped into the small office, Tatu moving in behind him, his hand rising to salute as he stiffened. The officer in his early forties looked up from behind his desk, his greatcoat collar drawn up round his neck, his winter issue cap with flaps tied under his chin. With a short moustache and drawn features, he stared at them wearily, ‘Yes Leutnant?’
Hausser inched forward nervously, ‘Leutnant Hausser, 76th Infantry Division, Sir. Requesting food for five men before we return to our unit.’
The oberleutnant leant back, studying the bedraggled and filthy uniforms with a humorous expression on his face, a twinkle in his eye, ‘Well you certainly seem to have seen some action…where the hell have you two been?’
Hausser nodded wearily, ‘Recently fighting near the river…but before that with our unit, in the factory district and…’ He thought for a second, ‘…A month ago we were stationed to the south…near Lake Sarpa.’
The officer’s eyes widened, as he leant forward, running his gloved hand across his nose as he sniffed against the cold, ‘Impressive…where are your men now?’
Hausser grimaced, realising he had forgotten to bring their pay books for identification, ‘My apologies, Herr Oberleutnant…they are across the square. I should have brought their identification.’
The officer grinned at the Leutnant’s obvious discomfort, slowly raising his hand, ‘Not to worry, Hausser…I will issue vouchers for this morning. If you were lying I would have expected you to ask for more than just three further rations.’ He winked at Tatu, ‘Are you heading back out of the city…towards your unit?’
Hausser nodded, ‘Yes Sir…as soon as we have eaten.’
The oberleutnant pulled some papers towards him from across the desk, signing five food authorisations as he glanced at his wristwatch, ‘Get your men fed and report back here in an hour. We are sending some lorries to Gumrak…you won’t get a lift all the way as I instruct my drivers to pick up the wounded on the way, but it should help!’
Hausser’s eyes widened in surprise, an eager smile spreading across his face, ‘Er…thank you Sir….that will help a great deal…’ He looked across at Tatu, the Romanian smiling, ‘My men will be very happy…’
The oberleutnant waved his hand, ‘That is the best I can do…’ He extended his hand, the ration papers being taken by Tatu, then leant back, ‘Leutnant, when you came in I glimpsed the ribbon around your neck…you have the Iron Cross, why should I not believe that you and your men have fought bravely in service of your country. It is my pleasure to provide you with what little assistance I can.’
Leutnant Hausser looked away, his emotion heightening as Tatu stepped forward, the Romanian running his hand over his moustache, ‘Thank you Sir…that is very kind of you. We will ensure we get back to the 76th as soon as possible!’
The oberleutnant smiled, ‘Very well…don’t let me keep you. He raised his hand in salute, Hausser and Tatu clicking their heels and stiffening as they returned the gesture. Turning on their heels, Leutnant Hausser spoke softly, ‘Thank you Sir.’
The two men made their way back across the square in silence, trudging through a shattered underpass, areas of the roof having collapsed from shelling. The cold air enveloped them as they passed under the exposed sections, the sky now clear with the storm moving west. Soldiers moved in the other direction, some carefully clutching their ration papers as they walked towards the kitchens.
Climbin
g the steps back to the other three soldiers, Tatu grinned as he thought of the others enlightened mood at receiving food, his hand holding the authorisations tightly. Udet, Hase and Petru were sat in the corridor, chatting in lowered voices with Petru translating much to the amusement of the young Berliner. Their unshaven and dirty faces showing the clear signs of lack of sleep and deprivation, they smiled as the two men approached, their stomachs grumbling in their thinner frames.
Clambering to their feet, Hausser drew them round, his heavily stubbled face covered in dust, ‘We need to make a move back to the north…fortunately we have secured a lift for some of the way...’ He indicated to Tatu as the Romanian raised the small sections of paper aloft, ‘…and a breakfast!’
Udet grinned widely, Petru following suit with Hase smiling as he realised what was about to happen. Hausser continued, ‘We need to be back at the supply area in less than an hour, so let’s hope there is not a queue for breakfast…gather your equipment and wrap up warmly.’
The Opel Blitz lorry lurched onto the track, the small convoy turning north from the city outskirts towards the airfield ahead. Leutnant Hausser smiled faintly as he watched his men before him, sitting huddled together for warmth, the cold wind blowing through gaps and tears in the tarpaulin covering the rear section of the lorry.
Several wounded lay amongst them, the five lorries grinding forward through the snow as the wind began to increase. In their own vehicle at the rear of the convoy, three men lay heavily wounded, their moans filling the rear compartment each time the lorry jolted. Two lay against the young commander, one with a thickly bandaged stomach wound, the other with his head heavily bandaged. On the floor between them, one other soldier lay shivering, a fever gripping him from infection after his lower leg was removed.
Bloody Stalingrad Page 71