As they progressed, struggling with each bloody sight before them, Leutnant Hausser’s mind began to clear, his urgency to get to one of the furthest dugouts pushing them forward. Increasing their pace, they stumbled over outstretched limbs, some no longer attached to the bodies above. Broken rifles and scattered bullets lay across the floor of the trench, the snow blackened, the cloud of dust above beginning to fall to earth, the stench of burnt explosives and flesh hanging in the air.
Baumann was beginning to fall behind, the horrors too unimaginable to comprehend for an officer so dedicated to limit casualties. Leutnant Hausser turned, shouting at the oberleutnant, ‘Baumann, I need to get to my men!’ The officer behind him pushed himself forward, stepping over a pool of blood, the dead donor lying stretched across the trench wall. More bodies lay in an emplacement ahead, their broken limbs, bloodied and stumped from a direct hit. Several of the broken bodies lay out in the scorched snow, the artillery explosion tossing them out of the defences on impact.
Passing another bunker on the left, Baumann stared incredulously at the collapsed roof, the smouldering remains and moaning from with. Turning his head, he shouted, ‘Medic! We have men trapped here!’ Two soldiers were making their way along the trench towards them, their faces sullen and shocked. Both started silently to claw at the collapsed logs and earth, their minds focussed on others, their ear drums perforated from the blasts with blood soaking their upper uniforms.
Hausser was struggling to find his bearings, the devastation too great to recognise positions. Reaching a bend in the shattered trench, he spotted a damaged observation post ahead, stunned soldiers crawling from the position. Realising this was where he had spoken to the sentries from his unit previously, he lunged forward, scrambling along the trench as he slipped on shattered equipment. Baumann struggled after him, his breath in short gasps, partly from the severe cold, mostly from the shock.
Leutnant Hausser reached the fork in the trench wall, the left section leading to his men’s bunker. Glancing desperately at the bodies around…searching for signs of recognition, he glimpsed the military policeman’s uniform about seven metres way, the body half covered in debris, blood seeping onto the scorched snow. Next to the body, a tattered Hungarian uniform, the soldiers head missing, the blood soaked and burnt walls evidence of Katyusha rockets.
Pushing himself on, he forced his way around two soldiers moving forward, their medic kits inadequate for the situation that they were presented with. Reaching the left turning that led to the dugout, he pushed on, tears welling in his eyes as he saw the dust and smoke rising ahead. The dugout entrance had all but collapsed, broken earth and the few wooden supports blocking the front of the emplacement. Grasping desperately at the shattered earth and wood, he heaved chunks of frozen broken debris away, Baumann joining him as they tried to create an opening.
Hausser was swearing loudly, his rising panic to get into the dugout forcing his weakened body against the obstructions, throwing items to the side with Baumann. Slowly they cleared a gap, the officer thrusting his hand in to the opening to pull more debris aside. The sounds of rummaging inside caused him to work more feverishly, the two officers throwing items aside to try and break through.
Then the obstructions started to move, more hands from inside grasping at the frozen chunks of earth. Hausser’s chest was heaving as he reached through, a hand grasping his in response, his voice rising, ‘Are you alright in there?’
There was a short pause, the officers still grappling with the frozen earth, then a voice coughed through the small opening, the familiar tone of Tatu reaching their ears, ‘It’s a little dark in here…have you got a light?’
Hausser gritted his teeth, his body aching from the feverish exertion, his voice whining, ‘How many of you are there?’
Tatu shouted back, ‘We are all here…just get us out! Herr Leutnant…I want to go back to Romania now!’
Oberleutnant Baumann started laughing, gasping for breath as he giggled uncontrollably…half from relief, the rest from frustration…he clawed at the earth more, the obstructions now being kicked from inside.
Slowly and laboriously they cleared the entrance, Udet the first soldier to slip through the opening they created, his body thinner than the others. The young Berliner pushed his upper body through, tumbling onto the frozen dirt before them and struggling to his knees, his chest heaving from the exertion. He leant against the trench wall, gasping and spitting dust from his mouth as the officers attempted to widen the opening further. Tatu was grunting inside, his sense of humour returning, ‘I see the German gets out first…just in case the roof collapses further! Typical!’
Hausser was grinning determinedly as he worked, gasping for breath in the freezing cold, ‘Shut up you oaf and get the rest out!’ The humour a relief from the horrors around them, Baumann was still giggling as they both heaved a large section away, the light spreading across the dirty faces that stared out at them inquisitively.
Hausser stepped back, sweat chilling on his face as Baumann sank to his knees with exhaustion behind him. Tatu looked round in the darkness of the half collapsed dugout, ‘Get the weapons, Hase can go first…he’s the next one closest to being German!’
The officer shook his head in frustration, ‘Will you get our men out now…we have lost virtually everyone now!’
Tatu’s eyes widened, his voice becoming firm as he pushed Hase through, ‘How many? What’s our strength?’
Hausser shrugged, wiping his face, ‘Difficult to say…they hit us very hard.’ He glanced round, Udet staring aghast in shock at the scenes around them. Oberleutnant Baumann was still on his knees, his head in his hands as his shoulders shook uncontrollably.
Petru followed Hase through the opening, then Meino. Tatu passing their weapons through as they stood staring in awe at the rising smoke and destruction that surrounded them. Finally Tatu slipped though, Hausser grasping his arm and pulling the Romanian into the light. The quartermaster rose to his feet, gritting his teeth as he glanced about in awe. The medics running past their position, the moaning and shouting from the trenches that filled the smoke and dust filled air. He looked at Hausser, shaking his head in embarrassment, ‘I am sorry my friend…I did not realise it was this bad.’
Leutnant Hausser slapped his shoulder, ‘Organise the men we have left…get a defensive line formed. The Russians will not be long now I think!’
Major Schenk stood behind his radio operator, the reports from the few short wave sets placed across units on the front line now beginning to create a picture of what had happened. He shook his head in frustration, his nervousness rising as the eerie silence continued outside. Walking round the table, he took his MP40 from the wall of the emplacement, his adjutant hanging it there to resolve the major’s impatient searching when attempting to leave the bunker. Grasping his binoculars, he stepped towards the bunker entrance, turning before he walked into the light, ‘Find out what the Russkies are up too…reports, anything…I think we will be seeing them really soon!’
Chapter Ninety: Operation Koltso (Ring)
Major Schenk stared through his binoculars, the frozen fog in the distance frustrating his vision. Dust and smoke billowed over the defensive line of the 76th Infantry Division, the stunned and shocked surviving soldiers struggling to comprehend the ferocity of the barrage they had just experienced.
Leutnant Hausser stood next to Oberleutnant Baumann staring out into the murk beyond the shattered defensive positions, the dust and smouldering smoke from scorched earth billowing around them, the acrid smell almost unbearable. Straining their eyes, they stared into the gloom, the broken and shattered airplane parts in the distance now clearly visible in the low mid-morning haze.
Around them, the wounded men were being helped to the rear, soldiers struggling with their own minor injuries and shock to take their countrymen to perceived relative safety behind the front lines. Udet and Hase struggled past them with a moaning soldier, the man shell shocked and virtually unconscious
as they carried his limp body. Tatu was walking the trench line, having gathered soldiers from rear areas and some supply troops, the nervous infantrymen, cooks, vets and drivers stared out across the snow, the freezing breeze sweeping across their features.
In the distance they could just make out the Russian speakers projecting their message again, the hungry infantrymen sighing as the irritating ticking emanated across the landscape. Then it all went quiet, very quiet…the men catching their breath and stiffening, the soldiers hesitating to look nervously to the west in anticipation.
The strain of muffled diesel engines swept across the snow, the noise stretching all across the terrain before the defences. The German soldiers bit their lips beneath their scarves, the noise escalating as more and more sound spread across the snow. The wounded looked around nervously, their helpers spurring them forward as they struggled towards the rear.
Oberleutnant Baumann turned to stare at Hausser, his voice trembling as he lowered his MP40 from his shoulder, ‘They are coming!’
Leutnant Hausser spun round, his eyes widening as the roars in the distance got louder, the tanks engaging gear as tracks spun round and ground into the snow. As their eyes met, the fear passed between them for a second, Hausser breaking eye contact and beginning to shout to the men around them, ‘Stay in your trenches! Fire at the infantry! Do not run, they will cut you down!’ He waved at Tatu, the Romanian staring towards him, ‘Get the anti-tank rifles and mines, prime AP grenades!’
Tatu nodded grimly, turning to run and grabbing two soldiers next to him. Leutnant Hausser strode behind the defenders, his muscles tensing as he raised his voice, ‘Hold the infantry back and their tank assault will falter! Leave the tanks to those with the grenades!’ He spun round shouting towards Baumann, ‘Herr Oberleutnant…we need anti-tank support now Sir!’ Baumann shook himself from his inaction, nodding and lunging forward, past Hausser as he darted back towards the command bunker.
Major Schenk stared through his binoculars, a prickling feeling surging up his spine. Lowering the glasses, he shouted into the bunker’s entrance, ‘Get me artillery support now! Coordinates in front of our line…await my order to fire! No rationing or we will be overrun…advise command that this is it!’
The muffled response came from within, the voice shaking, ‘Jawohl Herr Major!’
The major raised the glasses again, straining his eyes as he stared into the gloom. The low mist swirled and drifted in the distance, the engine noise rising as numerous machines moved through the snow. He stiffened, a shape in the mist…then another, and another…his adrenalin rising.
The gunnery sergeant stood upright, his hands frantically twisting the zoom on his binoculars. Around him, his two surviving pak guns sat in their damaged emplacements, their crews running from the destroyed guns on either side, scavenging shells and equipment. He tensed, seeing the mist swirl, the shapes looming through the shroud, he glanced round, the nervousness almost possessing him.
Oberleutnant Baumann stumbled into the emplacement, scrambling forward and approaching him, his eyes strained in desperation as he saw the number of surviving anti-tank pieces. The sergeant stiffened, saluting, ‘Herr Oberleutnant! Ready to fire on your command Sir!’
Baumann was breathless, struggling to his feet, his greatcoat torn, ‘Make every shot count…how many rounds have we?’
The gunnery sergeant grimaced, his face darkening, ‘Not sure Sir…we have scavenged the destroyed guns, but we need orders to break the rationing restrictions!’
Baumann nodded, hesitating, then looking the sergeant in the eye, ‘Major Schenk’s order…fire when ready!’ He glanced back, seeing several smaller guns being pushed forward by their crews, his stomach turning, ‘No rationing today!’
The sergeant saluted formally, turning to the gun crews behind him, the words choked with emotion, ‘Fire when you can be sure of a kill! Every shot must hit!’ The startled crews looked up him, ducking instinctively as the whoosh of a shell swept overhead, the crump behind making them jump.
The sergeant ran to the side of one of the paks, raising his binoculars again as Baumann began to make his way forward towards the command post, the sergeant’s voice ringing in his ears, ‘Get me more shells Sir…there are a lot of Russkie tanks coming!’
Major Schenk gasped, the Russian T34s grinding through the mist. The tanks stretched as far as the eye could see, moving forty to fifty metres apart. Shells soared overhead, the Russian turret muzzles flashing as eager crews fired wildly towards the German defensive positions. He instinctively crouched down, staring through the binoculars as the distant figures emerged behind the tanks, Russian infantry beginning to fill the terrain as they advanced. Turning his head, he shouted desperately, ‘Where is my artillery? We need it now!’
The radio operator shouted back, his voice excited as he heard his commander’s frantic tone, ‘Command states there are multiple requests…the Russkies are advancing all across our front! They have rationed shells and are seeking authority from Sixth Army HQ to exceed their daily quota!’
Oberleutnant Baumann appeared round the side of the bunker, his eyes wide as he saw the sheer number of Russian tanks advancing towards them. Gasping he pointed, his hand shaking, ‘Pak guns to fire shortly Sir! The 37mm are being moved into position, but they are too weak at this range! I have instructed them to use all ammunition as required!’ He hesitated, then shouted, the explosions behind them loud, ‘There are some 75mm infantry guns left too!’
Schenk nodded, biting his lip, the two men ducking again as more shells whooshed overhead, ‘Is there any spare ammunition in rear areas?’
Baumann shook his head, pushing his helmet down, ‘No Sir…once it’s gone…we have nothing!’
The paks fired behind, Major Schenk raising his glasses in anticipation, the snow thrown up into the air as one missed, another T34 jolting abruptly, the hull breached as smoke poured into the air. Schenk thrust the binoculars into Baumann’s hands as rifle fire cracked across the line, the chatter of a heavy machine gun firing to the north of them, then another to the south. Striding into the command post, his voice bellowing, ‘Get me Generalleutnant Rodenburg on the radio, I need that artillery now!’
Leutnant Hausser was shouting, his voice almost hoarse as shells zipped overhead, ‘Target their infantry…bring them down! Fire!’
Rifles cracked all across the line, the officer waiting until the enemy was closer before opening fire. Brown clad figures in the distance collapsed into the snow, the clank of bullets ricocheting off metal plate as the tanks reached two hundred metres from the German line. Hausser ducked down, bullets splattering across the snow above the trench wall as he spun round, ‘Where is Tatu? Where are my AT rifles?’
Udet fired out, the sniper crack from behind as Alessio also fired, downing a Russian officer as he spurred his men on. Tatu’s voice echoed urgently across the trenches through the gunfire, ‘Coming Herr Leutnant! There are not many!’
Hase raised his head slightly, ducking back down as he saw the enormous number of infantry advancing towards them. Machine guns chattered to either side, the tracers and bullets zipping towards the incoming Russians. Five T34s were burning on the open steppe, their surviving crews scrambling from their stricken metal chargers. Shaking his head in disbelief, Hase glanced upwards again, raising his rifle, the butt kicking back into his shoulder, a figure falling in the distance. Yanking the bolt back, he fired again, the rifle kicking as another bullet sped towards its target.
The Russian tanks surged towards the German line, the distance now just over one hundred metres. Hausser’s desperation was rising, Tatu stumbling past him with three anti-tank rifles, the other soldiers behind him struggling with the weight of mines and AT grenades. The officer ducked down, the tanks’ forward machine guns raking the trench line to keep the defenders subdued, the young commander’s voice rising sharply, ‘Target the tracks…stop them…forget the frontal armour!’ He glanced round, screams coming from the defenders that we
re hit, ‘Let the tanks pass over us, then rise up…stop the infantry dead!’
The whining of tank tracks got louder, the wide tracks of the T34s tearing up the frozen snow. One Russian tank ground to a halt, its turret smouldering as the pak shell smacked against the side of its hull. The hatches burst open, the crew desperate to escape as flame shot from the engine, incinerating two of the escaping men.
Major Schenk was screaming at the men before him, his MP40 shaking as he fired bursts at the advancing enemy, ‘Keep down! Cut down their infantry!’ Shells whined overhead, the Russian tanks and self-propelled guns now targeting the pak positions. Bullets began to pour towards the German positions as the advancing Russian infantry opened fire, their commissars and officers spurring them onwards…from behind.
The brief rumble far behind the defensive positions went unheard, the sounds of whining engines, tank shells and rifle fire drowning out the brief German artillery salvo. Major Schenk crouched in the trench, his radio operator beside him as the whoosh above swept over them, his lips forming to a brief grin as the radio operator looked up.
Oberleutnant Baumann ducked further as the shells from German artillery fell just in front of his position, the screams and shouts around him being drowned out as the explosions from high calibre shells erupted amongst the lead tanks and infantry. Blast waves swept across the trenches, the defenders cowering as they were showered with body parts and debris.
Bloody Stalingrad Page 77