The Bloody Triangle

by Victor Kamenir

  • Rifle divisions had their 76mm cannons of model year 1927 replaced up to 80 percent by cannons of 1902/30 year-model.

  • Seven rifle divisions were short of 122mm howitzers of 1910/30 year-model.

  • Six new divisions were short of 152mm howitzers of 1909/30 year-model.24

  Parsegov also presented examples of shortages of specialist equipment.

  • Binoculars: Old rifle divisions had 65% of allotted amounts; new rifle, tank and motorized rifle divisions and artillery brigades—between 45–50%; corps artillery regiments—100%; Reserve of High Command artillery regiments—75%; all other units—20–40%

  • Theodolites: All old artillery regiments—100%; new regiments (formed in 1941)—50–75%; artillery brigades—30–35%.

  • Periscopes: Old artillery regiments, corps artillery regiments, and artillery regiments of Reserve of High Command—85–100%; units formed in 1941—40–45%; [antitank] artillery brigades—up to 35%.

  • Topographical surveying equipment—15–50%.

  • Search Lights—20–50%.25

  Specialist units like reconnaissance, combat engineers, and signal units were short of equipment necessary for accomplishing their specific tasks. In particular, the reconnaissance units of the Fifth Army had only 25 percent of allocated motorcycles, 48 percent of armored cars, and 54 percent of T-37 and T-40 tanks.26 Likewise, a majority of units of the Kiev Special Military District, corps and below, had 50–60 percent of radio equipment and 60–70 percent of telephone equipment. The situation was slightly better in army- and front-level formations—roughly 75–80 percent of assigned norm.27

  CHAPTER 5

  Creeping up to War

  HOW WAS IT THAT THE SOVIET UNION, country with an acknowledged most-extensive intelligence network, was caught unaware of the impeding danger that came close to bringing the communist state to its knees within the first six months of war?

  Winston Churchill’s critique was harsh:

  War is mainly a catalogue of blunders, but it may be doubted whether any mistake in history has equaled that of which Stalin and the Communist chiefs were guilty when they . . . supinely awaited, or were incapable of realizing, the fearful onslaught which impended upon Russia. . . . As far as strategy, policy, foresight, competence are arbiters, Stalin and his commissars showed themselves at this moment the most completely outwitted bunglers of the Second World War.1

  For decades after the war, the government of the Soviet Union steadfastly maintained its position that Germany’s attack came as a complete and total surprise. Generations of Soviet children born after the war grew up to believe that myth. The Western governments, knowing the truth, politely kept the silence. After all, the Cold War enemy was yesterday’s ally in the fight against Hitler.

  These claims of ignorance do not hold up under even the most perfunctory scrutiny. Even without having a widespread and well-placed spy network, how could a country miss over three million potentially hostile soldiers along its borders or completely misinterpret intentions of their leadership?

  When Adolf Hitler signed into being Directive No. 21, the “Case Barbarossa,” these plans for attack against the Soviet Union contained a caveat:

  In certain circumstances I shall issue orders for the deployment against the Soviet Russia eight weeks before the operation is timed to begin. Preparations . . . will be concluded by 15th May, 1941. It is of decisive importance that our intention to attack should not be known.2

  German leadership understood very well that massing a large army on the enemy’s doorstep would not go unnoticed for very long. Presence of widespread troop concentrations and railroad movements bringing them forward would be impossible to conceal. Therefore, what needed to be concealed was not the troops’ presence, but their purpose.

  The official explanation for having large-scale German troop concentration in Eastern Poland was given as rest and recreation and training for continuing operations against England, out of reach of the Royal Air Force. As Anthony Reed described it: “Every possible means was used to create a huge double-bluff, by presenting Barbarossa itself as ‘the greatest deception operation in military history,’ aimed not at the Soviet Union but at Britain, and this remained the principal cover story right up to the end.”3

  Training for Operation Sealion (Unternehmen Seeloewe in German), a proposed invasion of the British Isles which was cancelled on October 12, 1940, began again in the spring of 1941. Along with highly visible land forces training, the German Air Force made numerous reconnaissance flights over England, with the sole intent of being noticed.

  However, a serious monkey wrench was thrown into Hitler’s plans by none other than one of his closest companions, Rudolph Hess. Neanderthalish Hess, Hitler’s political deputy and Nazi “old fighter,” held a privileged, albeit diminishing, position at Hitler’s side. On May 13, Hess flew a Messerschmitt Bf 110 plane to England and parachuted out of it over Scotland on an ill-conceived solo peace mission. Hess’ intentions were to bring England and Germany to the peace table; but, realizing that Hess was not completely mentally stable and acting without authorization from Hitler, British authorities disregarded his overtures.

  While creating few minor and temporary ripples in the two affected countries, Hess’ escapade had a significant effect on Josef Stalin. The Soviet dictator never believed that Hess’ mission was not authorized and maintained an opinion that Germany and England were conspiring behind his back.

  As Adolph Hitler raged over his old comrade’s indiscretion, Dr. Paul Joseph Goebbels, the evil genius behind Hitler’s Propaganda Ministry, threw all of his considerable energy in the deception efforts. Anthony Reed quotes from Goebbels’ diary: “I am having an invasion of England theme written, new fanfare composed, English speakers brought in, setting up propaganda companies for England, etc.”4 German invasion of the small Greek island of Crete in the morning of May 20, 1941, served as an example of German continued war against England and provided Goebbels with ample fuel to pull off a deception effort worthy of his talents.

  With Hitler’s full knowledge and approval, on June 13, 1941, Goebbels published an article in Voelkischer Beobachter, the official newspaper of the Nazi party, full of bombastic threats against England. In mid-afternoon on the same day, a great stage-managed show of seizing and withdrawing this edition of the newspaper was conducted across Berlin. According to Reed, “Goebbels then placed himself in public ‘disgrace’, to complete the illusion that he had committed a grave indiscretion.” It was quite obvious that he was quite satisfied with his efforts:

  Everything goes without a hitch. I am very happy about it. The big sensation is under way. English broadcasts are already claiming that our troop movements against Russia are sheer bluff, to conceal our plans for an invasion of England. . . . At home, people regret my apparent faux pas, pity me, or try to show their friendship despite everything, while abroad there is feverish conjecture. We stage-managed it perfectly. Only one cable got through to the USA, but that is enough to bring the affair to the attention of the whole world. We know from tapped telephone conversations between foreign journalists working in Berlin that all of them fell for the decoy.5

  Another aspect of the German misdirection campaign was Hitler’s apparent concern about the Soviet Union building a line of strong fortifications along the border and the rumor that Hitler was about to make a list of demands and concessions from the Soviet Union. This last factor confirmed in Stalin’s mind the pattern of Hitler’s modus operandi: ask first, then demand, and then, if needed, attack. This pattern was present in Hitler’s previous adventures with Austria, Czechoslovakia, and Poland.

  Although Hitler cautioned for the utmost secrecy, Operation Barbarossa did not stay hidden for long. Within one month, indications of still-distant, but growing, threat, came trickling into the Soviet state. Despite the post-war Soviet claims, there were plenty of warnings, coming from diverse and independent sources. One of the early bell-ringers was Richard Sorge, Soviet deep-cover
agent stationed in Tokyo, Japan. Sorge was born in the old Tsarist Empire, son of a Russian mother and a German engineer father working in Russia. In 1898, shortly after Sorge’s second birthday, his family moved to Germany. When World War I broke out, young Sorge fought in the German army, receiving an Iron Cross for his bravery. Like many young men of his generation, cast adrift in the aftermath of the world war, Sorge became disillusioned with the present system and became a willing convert to socialism. While living in Russia and idealistically working for Comintern (Communist International), he was recruited into Soviet military intelligence in 1929 by the chief of Fourth (Intelligence) Directorate of NKVD, General Jan Berzin (real name Peteris Kyuzis, a Latvian). His background as a decorated war veteran won Sorge wide admittance into German military circles. The ticket in was Sorge’s left leg, almost one inch shorter as the result of a WWI wound, combined with his outward outspoken Nazi views. In his solid cover as a freelance reporter for several German newspapers, most notably the respected Frankfurter Zeitung, Sorge was posted to Japan, where he penetrated the highest level of German diplomatic community and established reliable information sources in Japanese government.

  Within two weeks of Case Barbarossa being approved, Richard Sorge got wind of this dangerous development and began a stream of warnings to Moscow. Despite his best efforts, Sorge’s warnings were ignored, and the tone of his communiqués became frustrated and desperate. Why were Sorge’s reports unheeded?

  Richard Sorge’s former direct superior, chief of Fourth Directorate Jan Berzin, was caught up in the wave of purges. Implicated as Trotskyite, he was imprisoned in 1935 and executed in 1939. Close personal and professional associates of General Berzin shared his fate. Berzin’s former deputy and replacement, Semyon P. Uritskiy, also perished in NKVD basements and, in turn, Uritskiy’s replacement, Semyon G. Gendin. In 1937, many Soviet intelligence agents operating abroad were recalled to Moscow where they were arrested and executed. These men who had done so much for their country were not trusted by the country’s leadership on the grounds that they were likely to have been suborned while living in capitalist countries and turned into double agents.

  Besides the loss of experienced intelligence officers, their carefully nurtured networks were destroyed along with them. This decimation of intelligence-gathering resources immediately and negatively reflected on the quality and quantity of intelligence information coming into the Soviet Union.

  Sorge was one of those who received instructions to return to the Soviet Union. However, he had access to multiple western European newspapers highlighting the espionage “show trials” in the Soviet Union and naming those convicted and executed, many of whom were personally known to Sorge. An intelligent man, Sorge developed a strong suspicion that he would share their fate. A severe blow to Sorge came in 1940, when newspapers around the world publicized the death of his friend Ignac Poretsky, an NKVD defector assassinated in Switzerland in September of that year.6

  When Sorge’s recall orders came in November 1940, he demurred on the grounds that he could not leave Japan until April of next year. When further summons arrived from Moscow, Sorge always found an excuse not to obey. His refusal to follow the recall orders resulted in Moscow losing confidence in his reports. Therefore, when Sorge continued forwarding intelligence about the upcoming German invasion, his reports were treated with utmost suspicion in the Moscow center.

  Still the dedicated patriot, Sorge continued to carry out his intelligence-collecting duties. On May 6 Sorge sent a report to Moscow, in part stating: “Decision on start of war against USSR will be taken by Hitler alone, either as early as May, or following the war with England.”7 Still, Sorge’s superiors in Moscow customarily rejected his reports as: “Suspicious. To be listed with telegrams intended as provocations.”8 Stalin himself reportedly categorized Sorge in the following manner: “A shit that has set himself up with some small factories and brothels in Japan.”9 Thus, a priceless intelligence asset was wasted due to mistrust and suspicion, including Sorge’s report in late June that the war was about to start within days.

  Another of Berzin’s recruits was Leopold Trepper, the head of the Soviet intelligence network in Europe, dubbed by German counterintelligence as Die Rotte Kapelle (the Red Orchestra). In similar fashion to Sorge, Trepper’s reports about the growing threat went unheeded. Another entity loosely connected to Treppler’s organization, a German Schultze-Boysen/Harnack Group, also passed on important information. However, this particular group, named after Lt. Harro Schulze-Boysen, a German Air Force intelligence officer, and Arvid Harnak, an official in the German Ministry of Economics, was anti-Nazi, rather than pro-Soviet, and was only marginally trusted by the Soviets.

  Another source of impending invasion came from foreign governments hostile to Nazi Germany. British Prime Minister Winston Churchill, while being a staunch anti-Communist, was an even greater implacable foe of Hitler. He was quoted as saying: “I have only one purpose: the destruction of Hitler. . . . If Hitler invaded Hell I would make at least a favourable reference to the Devil in the House of Commons.”10 Beginning in April of 1941, Churchill passed on to Stalin indications of imminent invasion. However, Stalin believed that any information coming from western intelligence sources was an attempt to provoke a war between the Soviet Union and Germany.

  A very significant factor feeding Stalin’s mistrust of England and France was the fact that these two countries in the recent past were making plans to wage an armed struggle against Stalin. When on November 30, 1939, the Soviet Union attacked its small northern neighbor Finland, this unprovoked aggression created deep outrage in Western Europe. Outnumbered by more than four-to-one, the gallant Finnish army put up a tenacious resistance, thwarting Soviet plans for a quick victory. In late April to early March of 1940, England and France planned to send fifty-seven thousand ground troops into Finland to fight the Soviets. However, Norway and Sweden refused their passage on March 2. French Premier Edouard Daladier made an offer to Finnish leader Baron Carl Gustav Mannerheim to force their way through the two countries if Mannerheim phrased it as an official request. Mannerheim declined, not trusting the fighting spirit of British and French,11 and in mid-March of 1940, Finland surrendered. This apparent readiness to commit troops, even though this help, judging from British and French meekly observing Poland’s and Czechoslovakia’s dismemberment, might not have been actually forthcoming, was not something Stalin would be willing to forgive or forget.

  Another ill-conceived Allied plan for armed intervention against the Soviet Union was aimed at Baku oil fields. Located on the shores of Caspian Sea in the southern portion of the Soviet Union, the vast oil fields provided roughly 75 percent of country’s petroleum needs. Fearing that cordial relations with the Soviet Union would present Hitler with an unlimited strategic supply of oil, French leadership was serious about launching an air attack into the southern Soviet Union via Iraq or Iran in order to destroy Baku oil fields and deny them to Germany. Charles Richardson wrote:

  On January 19, 1940, Premier Edouard Daladier of France issued an order which read in part: “General Gamelin and Admiral Darlan are to be requested to prepare a memorandum concerning eventual intervention for the destruction of the Russian oil fields.”12

  Even though senior British statesmen like Neville Chamberlain and Winston Churchill were opposed to an attack on Baku oilfield, nonetheless several French and British reconnaissance flights were conducted over the area in question in early April of 1940. These overflights were noticed by the Red Army and duly reported, feeding further fuel to Stalin’s mistrust of Western democracies.

  However, when Germany launched simultaneous attacks against Denmark and Norway on April 9, 1940, the Allied attention shifted to the matters closer to home than distant Baku. And when France’s turn to be invaded by Germany came scarcely a month later on May 10, Stalin was undoubtedly ironically amused by France’s humiliatingly rapid defeat and the British mad scrabble to avoid a bloodbath at Dunkirk.


  But was Stalin really completely ignoring warnings presented by his intelligence services, or was there something else in play? Like his fellow dictator Adolf Hitler, Josef Stalin considered himself superior to his professional military advisers in all matters geopolitical. It is quite possible that while believing some of the warnings, he considered himself better qualified to make the final judgment of their immediacy. His paranoia and cruelty undoubtedly demonstrate a presence of at least a small degree of mental illness. However, despite all his faults, Josef Stalin was not a stupid man. The Soviet dictator clearly realized that his country was not quite ready for war and was stalling for time. Time, the one resource Stalin needed most desperately, was in short supply: time to continue expanding the heavy industry to meet the increased demand of the Red Army, particularly expressed in large numbers of new tanks; time to increase the output of military schools and academies to provide leadership backbone to the expanding military; time for new commanders, who replaced those eliminated during the purges, to become acquainted with their new assignments.

  Zhukov agreed with this:

  Stalin was not a coward, but he clearly understood that country’s leadership, led by him, was clearly late with undertaking major measures to prepare the country for a large-scale war with such strong and experienced enemy as Germany. He understood that we were late not only with rearmament of our forces with modern combat equipment and reorganization of armed forces, but also with country’s defensive measures, particularly being late with creating needed state reserves and mobilization stores. J. V. Stalin clearly knew as well that after 1939, military units were lead by commanders far from being well-versed in operational-tactical and strategic science. On the eve of war, the Red Army did not retain practically any regimental or divisional commanders with academy education. Moreover, many of them did not even attend military schools, with their majority being prepared only in commanders’ courses. It was also impossible to discount the moral traumas which were inflicted upon the Red Army and Navy by the massive purges.13