Bloody Stalingrad

by Andrew McGregor

  The whoosh of shells, men falling behind and to the sides as bullets whipped around them, Petru stumbling alongside as they clawed forward. The freezing air grasped at their chests, their lungs heaving as explosions threw snow over them, the screams and whimpering of wounded men filling their ears.

  Tatu turned as he heard the clatter of tank tracks behind on either side, explosions tossing frozen earth and ice across their figures. Petru grabbed Udet as Hausser turned also, his MP40 rising as he saw the brown clad Russian infantry figures struggling through the snow in the distance.

  Leutnant Hausser and Tatu dropped to their knees, firing bursts at the advancing infantry as defensive artillery from the airfield began to fire their few remaining rounds. Rifles cracked around them, German infantry in their shallow foxholes firing on the advancing enemy.

  Flight crews turned their aircraft in desperation…the wounded, armed guards and several officers running out towards the lumbering transports as the explosions landed on the field and hit the surrounding buildings, flying bricks and mortar hitting some of the wounded as they stumbled across the snow towards the accelerating aircraft, their bodies crumpling into the ice as others ran past them.

  The co-pilots were grasping at flaying arms from the side doors of the JU52’s, attempting to drag the last few men on board as explosions burst across the field. Snow billowing behind their aircraft as the lucky wounded cowered in the rear compartments, the blast waves shaking the metal frames as pilots attempted to taxi as slowly as possible to collect the wounded.

  Several heavily laden planes slowly rose into their air, wounded falling from the wings and fuselage in their desperation to escape, their frozen hands unable to sustain grip in the freezing temperatures that swept over them.

  Hausser and Tatu fired further bursts, Hase dropping near them into a shallow foxhole as his rifle cracked. The brown clad infantry fell in the distance, several T34 tanks burning as the pak guns on the airfield perimeter claimed their first victims. Heavy MG42 and MG34 machine guns started firing to either side of them, their snow emplacements concealing their presence until the Russian infantry were directly in front of their firing arcs.

  Behind the first line, more T34s and Russian infantry moved forward, the last remaining large German airfield now almost within their grasp.

  Petru was pulling Udet forward, their bodies straining against the deep snow as several soldiers ran past them, scrambling back towards the rear defensive positions.

  The sudden flash filled their eyes, the intensity blinding them instantly. As a whoosh of snow rose up on either side of them, their arms rising instinctively as the blast wave engulfed them.

  Udet felt his body rise, the intense wave of air throwing him upwards and sideways as the whine from his lips rose in volume, his upper body shaking as shrapnel cracked against his ribs and shoulder. His body twisted in the air, his mouth opening wide as he struggled to breathe, the snow and burnt air smashing across his face as he felt his body fall to earth, the crash into the iced snow winding him, his leg twisting as the world went dark.

  Petru was thrown backwards, his eardrums screaming as they were overcome by the blast wave, his body sliding across the ice, his upper chest searing in pain as he slewed to a halt, gasping for air. He lay there, the snow and iced earth falling across him as he stared upwards, the heavy snow clouds drifting across the sky above, the distant, so distant sounds of war around him. His body shook involuntarily, his mind seeming vague and disorientated as his senses began to swim, his chest heaving as he struggled to breathe…the lights slowly dimming.

  Some fifty metres away, Hase turned his head, his eyes widening in horror as his mouth opened to shout in alarm, smoke and snow billowing around the area the Katyushas had landed.

  Chapter Ninety Six: Stalingradski Flight School, 22nd January 1943

  Major Schenk sipped from his tea, the small bunker dark with only a single candle flickering in the corner. Glancing down at the map on the table before him, he grimaced, the defensive lines drawn on the paper in front of him no longer matching reality. The bunker shuddered, the blast wave of a large explosion in the nearby city suburbs sweeping across the small park.

  Startled by a shout outside, he looked up at the bunker entrance, the tarpaulin being pulled across and Oberleutnant Baumann stepping in from the freezing night outside. His body was silhouetted briefly, a flash outside casting his shadow across the interior. The adjutant smiled weakly at the major, his uniform torn and dirty, ‘There are reports that a German officer and a small group of men from the 76th have arrived at the other side of the field. Leutnant Hausser and some men have reached the outskirts of the airfield Sir…he is alive!’

  Major Schenk grinned, his eyes widening as he lowered his chipped and dusty cup to the table’s surface, ‘Excellent news…it seems our young field officer still has some resilience left.’ His face darkened as he stared at the map, ‘It was lucky he found us I think…our division commander, Generalleutnant Rodenburg has ordered us back to the remains of the division.’ He looked up inquisitively, ‘Where are the Russians now?’

  Baumann slumped onto the crate opposite him, removing his helmet wearily, tired dark lines under his eyes, ‘Not far…there is heavy fighting to the north and south, but we seem to be holding them for the time being in this sector. They are probably bringing up tanks and more artillery though, so time is short.’

  The major nodded grimly, ‘It seems we may be soon moving back into the city itself Friedrich, how are the men holding up?’

  Baumann eyes widened in surprise at the major calling him by his first name again. Then he sighed in despondency, ‘Casualties are very heavy Sir. The division is now minimal strength but is still resisting the Russians. In the last couple of weeks or so we have lost over eighty percent of the division’s manpower and most of our heavy guns. The men are fighting for their lives.’

  The major nodded, his expression darkening again, ‘Very well…when we retreat further into the city…I will lead them, there is little point of command posts now or a structured formation. We fight together, issue all remaining ammunition and supplies to the men.’

  Baumann shook his head, his eyes falling onto the map table, ‘Very well Sir.’

  The tarpaulin was thrown back, both men turning to look towards the entrance. Leutnant Hausser stepped into the bunker, his filthy uniform hanging from his thinning frame. Forcing a smile, he stiffened to attention, raising his hand in salute, ‘Major Schenk…Mr Baumann! Leutnant Hausser reporting as ordered.’

  Major Schenk slapped his hand down onto the table, his face beaming as he rose to his feet, ‘Hausser my boy…you have come through once more it seems.’

  Oberleutnant Baumann struggled to his feet, stretching his hand out and shaking Hausser’s warmly, ‘Good to see you my friend!’

  The young officer stumbled forward, his darkened eyes of exhaustion and undernourished frame causing momentary dizziness, his voice croaking, ‘We have had casualties since the Russian assault Sir…three of my men killed, several commandeered, one missing, two wounded. I have to report…I-I have only a small number of men left under my command…I don’t know where the rest are.’

  Major Schenk nodded solemnly, extending his hand as Baumann guided the exhausted young officer to lean against the table. Hausser’s arm shook involuntarily as the major grasped his hand tightly, the young officer’s eyes seeming withdrawn and distant.

  Oberleutnant Baumann extended a battered packet of cigarettes, Hausser staring at the box incredulously for a second in struggled recognition before reaching out and taking one, his hand shaking. The major lowered himself back onto the box before the table, reaching for his mug, ‘Where are the remainder of your men now?’

  Hausser stared blankly at the major, Baumann lighting his cigarette, ‘They have gone to get some food I think Sir…the airfield kitchens.’

  Major Schenk nodded thoughtfully, ‘Good…they will be hungry.’ He looked up at the exhausted officer, g
lancing knowingly at his adjutant, ‘I have a job for you this evening though…not a taxing one. There are some despatches being delivered to the airfield from Sixth Army Headquarters with some officers that are required to fly out. We are expecting them any time. I will require you and your men to carry the boxes out to the plane. All other soldiers are deployed to defend the airstrip.’

  Hausser nodded wearily, blowing smoke wearily at the roof of the bunker, an explosion outside flashing across the entrance, ‘We will do our best Sir.’

  Major Schenk smiled, indicating and nodding to his adjutant, ‘Good, Oberleutnant Baumann will accompany you to the aircraft…ensure all the boxes are loaded, they are the remaining Sixth Army dairies and journals. Once you have loaded them, we will probably re-join the remains of the unit to the north and move into the city further.’

  The snowflakes swirled around them as the five soldiers approached the arriving Opel Blitz lorry, the tyres spinning on the iced snow. Their greatcoats pulled up around their necks and helmets pushed down, the weakened soldiers trudged towards the rear of the lorry as the driver skidded to a halt.

  Oberleutnant Baumann waved at the cold driver, the man’s hands shaking as he lit a cigarette in his cab. As the rear tailgate on the lorry dropped down, Hausser stared into the back of the vehicle, the six boxes and cases sitting on the wooden floor of the truck. An armed soldier dropped from the back of the lorry, his padded uniform offering him some protection against the cold. Retrieving his rifle, he nodded to Hausser and his men, indicating to the nearby building and walking towards it.

  Hausser turned to face the soldiers behind him, surveying his men with tears in his eyes, their bruised and blood encrusted faces half covered as they stared at him blankly and expressionless.

  Hase stood weakly to attention, his sullen and strained expression staring out into the falling snow, the signs of exposure and malnutrition clear across his features. His stained greatcoat was torn and bedraggled, the loose material now hanging from his thin frame as he held his rifle tightly, his breathing strained as he rasped a cough. His dulled senses oblivious to the itching of the lice beneath his tunic and trousers.

  Tatu stood erect, his once robust frame now thin, his large filthy jacket wrapped around him, the opening at the centre now forced across to his side by a tightened belt. He nodded defiantly, scratching at his chest, the PPSH 41 submachine gun strap rubbing across the lice as he stared back at his commander.

  Petru’s bruised face was heavily bandaged beneath his scarf, his arms and legs also covered beneath his loosened uniform, the shrapnel still embedded in his bloodied flesh, the lice eating away beneath the wrappings. He slowly raised his hand to salute, Hausser wearily returning the gesture as the snow swirled around them.

  Udet stood shivering, the dirty blood soaked bandages wrapped around his arm and shoulder tightly beneath his filthy uniform and overcoat, his body now dangerously thin and overwhelmed with lice. He looked like a man twice his age as he swayed, his sullen face shallowed and dark, the deep lines under his eyes black.

  Hausser nodded with respect, the admiration for the men before him rising as another lorry pulled in behind the first. He coughed involuntarily, his chest infection beginning to become more troublesome, ‘We will load these boxes onto the aircraft and then return for something warm to drink.’ He smiled weakly as he saw the four of them attempt to respond, their minds virtually blank and struggling to comprehend what he was saying in the extreme cold.

  He turned, looking out over the field as the converted Heinkel HE111 transport taxied towards the waiting lorries through the darkness, the snowflakes swirling around it. The tailgate of the second lorry dropped, several high ranking officers jumping down and trudging out towards the aircraft. Hase stared in bewilderment at the high quality and clean uniforms that stepped between them, the four soldiers and Hausser instinctively stiffening as the virtually immaculate leather great-coated and ear muffed figures passed by.

  Oberleutnant Baumann startled them, stepping from the other side of the lorry and raising his voice, ‘Right men, let’s get these boxes onto the plane…’ He hesitated, looking at the emaciated soldiers before him as he sighed, ‘Two men per box…let’s move!’

  The soldiers slowly and deliberately reached into the lorry, Baumann striding out towards the stationary aircraft and indicating to one of the pilots through the glass cockpit to come to the rear cargo door.

  Hase pulled the first box towards him, his muscles straining and light headedness nearly overcoming him as he supported one end over the back of the tailgate. Udet grunted as he strained to pick up the other end, his wounded arm and shoulder aching. They struggled towards the aircraft, the snow sweeping around them as the dull thuds of artillery in the distance went almost unheard.

  Tatu and Petru carried another box, stumbling after the younger soldiers as they strained against the weight with exhaustion and their injuries.

  As they returned for the next set of boxes, Hausser passed them with a case, depositing it on the edge of the cargo door, the co-pilot nodding in acceptance, his eyes wide at the state of the soldiers before him as he slowly pulled it inside. Glancing round as the young officer trudged back through the swirling snow towards the lorry, he glimpsed Baumann talking to the pilot near the rear of the aircraft, the Luftwaffe officer nodding in agreement as the adjutant spoke to him, his tone hushed.

  Walking back towards the lorry, Hausser passed his men struggling with the last boxes, vaguely realising there was only one more case to retrieve. He felt light headed as he trudged back towards the large plane, his breathing short and sharp as shellfire in the distance signalled yet another Russian attack.

  The four soldiers stood near the door in a line before the rear wing of the plane as he approached, Baumann behind the tail as the pilot clambered back through the open door. Oberleutnant Baumann coughed nervously as Hausser deposited the last case within the aircraft, the handful of officers sat in drop seats lining the inside of the fuselage staring in bewilderment at him.

  Then the adjutant spoke, ‘There is one more passenger to come gentlemen…please wait for him.’ He nodded towards the last remaining figure striding across the snow, Udet briefly comprehending the soldier carried a sniper rifle and was dressed differently from the previous passengers.

  As the young man nodded a greeting to the assembled men and clambered onto the aircraft, Baumann slowly raised his MP40 behind them, pulling the bolt back.

  Hausser spun round, his eyes wide with shock as he struggled to comprehend what was happening, ‘Baumann…what are…’

  The Oberleutnant stared determinedly at him, his eyes moist with emotion as he pointed the submachine gun at his friend, ‘It has been a great pleasure for me to serve with you men…but I am unable to watch any more of my friends suffer.’ He drew breath, his voice shaking with emotion, ‘Please get onto the aircraft gentlemen. I have told the pilot that Major Eismann has requested your presence…besides, there are two wounded amongst you and I have personally vouched for their condition.’

  Hausser shook his head, struggling to comprehend what he had heard, the four men in front of him shifting uneasily as they looked into their officer’s shocked face. Leutnant Hausser coughed, the frozen air catching in his throat, his voice croaking as he wheezed, ‘But we cannot leave…we are still under your and Major Schenk’s command…’

  Oberleutnant Baumann smiled warmly, slowly shaking his head at his friend, ‘The major told me to speak to the pilot. What I have said is not completely untrue…Major Eismann did indeed send a message of encouragement for you rogues.’ He raised his hand towards the doorway, ‘Now please get onto the transport…I have no intention of allowing you to disobey an order now my friend. We have come a very long way together, overcoming many challenges to be standing here.’ He sniffed hard, the emotion rising to his throat, ‘You and your men have performed your duty in this city admirably and your last and direct order is to leave now…it is the major’s and my…wi
sh.’

  The HE111 taxied out onto the runway, snow swirling around it as the propellers increased in ferocity, the aircraft beginning to accelerate down the short runway of the flight school. The wheels slowly lifted from the iced surface, the plane banking sharply to the right to avoid any nearby Russian anti-aircraft fire. As it gained altitude over the city, climbing into the night sky with the shattered buildings falling away below it, the startled passengers stared out of the two small smeared and frosted side windows in grim awe at the spectacle below them.

  Flashes of Russian artillery and gunfire burst across the city, the remaining German defenders now cowering in their frozen dugouts and buildings as the bitter ferocity of the fighting rolled into the city outskirts. Bitter hand to hand fighting on the limits between the emaciated defenders and fully fed Russian soldiers, the Germans now expending all the remaining ammunition in desperate attempts to defend themselves in the city of death.

  Hase and Udet sat huddled next to each other, their heads in their hands as they sobbed bitterly, their shoulders shaking uncontrollably. Tatu and Petru sat silently opposite them with tears in their eyes, looking out over the darkened terrain below, the flashes and explosions reflecting off their faces. Hausser stared silently and blankly in incomprehension at the sights below, the darkened spots moving across the white expanse as Russian tanks advanced towards the remaining German defences. In the darkness behind them on the horizon, the flashes of the artillery pieces as rows and rows of Russian guns fired into the city from the snow blanketed steppe.

  The throb of the aircraft engines filled the cargo cabin, the passengers beginning to cover themselves with blankets as the higher altitude temperatures started to bite at their limbs. Opposite them, a senior officer whispered to the older major next to him, ‘They are shattered men…what have they been through or seen?’