The Bloody Triangle

by Victor Kamenir

  At the end of May, the General Staff issued orders to commanders of western districts to urgently begin preparing command posts, with further instructions in the middle of June to move their command elements to these posts. They were to be moved by June 21–25, depending on a district.

  Bagramyan picks up the tale:

  In the very beginning of June we found out that command element of the 19th Army has been formed and situated in Cherkassy. [Author’s note: it is interesting that formation and deployment of a new army in district’s territory was done from without district command’s knowledge.] The new army will include all five divisions from 34th Rifle Corps and three divisions of the 25th Rifle Corps from the North-Caucasus Military District. This army will be headed by commander of the North-Caucasus Military District Lieutenant-General I. S. Konev and held under direct control of [Timoshenko]. A day later the General Staff gave us a heads-up: there will be another army coming, the 16th, under Lieutenant-General M. F. Lukin. It will be transferred from Trans-Baikal region during June 15th to July 10th.25

  Bagramyan remembered being relieved that two more armies would be available to defend the border. Besides reinforcing the Kiev district, two other armies were being moved to its northern neighbor, the Western Special Military District.

  As new troops continued rolling into the district, training of units already there stepped up at increasing pace. On May 26, Kirponos, Bagramyan, and other officers conducted an inspection tour of the Sixth Army. Observing maneuvers of a tank company from IV Mechanized Corps, Kirponos did not like what he saw: “One of T-34s slowly moved through the obstacle course. The tank, directed by an inexperienced hand, was barely navigating it. Two other vehicles fared slightly better.” Following movements of the tanks, Kirponos winced: “Not good!” General Morgunov [commander of Kiev Special Military District tank troops] sighed: “It’s not surprising, Comrade Commander. The drivers did not have opportunity to familiarize themselves with the new vehicles. They have not even had three hours of driving time with them.”26

  This same unit, while conducting itself better during shooting practice, did poorly during the night march:

  Along the route of tank regiments, we saw large number of halted vehicles along the roads. The farther we went, the more [broken down vehicles] turned up. . . . When division commander arrived and began making a report about the progress of the night march, [Kirponos] interrupted him: “Why, Colonel, you have such a mess? Your tanks are halting on the march; what would happen in combat?” Division commander attempted to explain that only the most-used T-26 and BT tanks, mainly from the training park, had halted, due to lack of spare parts.27

  Amid heightened activity,

  The intelligence section of Kiev Special Military District began receiving reports each more concerning than the other. [Chief of Intelligence] Colonel G. I. Bondarev practically became the most frequent [Kirponos] visitor. We noticed that after almost every conversation with him M. P. Kirponos became even grimmer. There were plenty of reasons for worry . . . [Around June 10th] commander called together the Military Council at which [Bondarev] reported all he knew.28

  Bondarev talked about construction of numerous airfields on the other side of the border and laying roads directly to the Soviet border. Since April there had been increased movements of German forces and large number of trains were arriving every day. He was seconded by General Ptukhin, commander of the air forces, who reported ever-increasing overflights by German aircraft in violation of Soviet air space.

  Kirponos told the officers that while general movement towards the border was forbidden, army commanders received orders to have their units ready. Several divisions could be shuffled around without drawing attention from Moscow. Purkayev brought up an issue that greatly concerned him—the fact that the second-echelon corps were not up to strength, and an especially alarming situation was with lack of wheeled transport and tracked artillery movers. In case of sudden attack, a majority of artillery units would not be able to move forward a significant part of their cannons.

  Kirponos replied that such addition of manpower and assets from the civilian sector would only be possible with an announcement of mobilization. He called it “an issue of state policy” and the Soviet government’s attempt not to give Hitler any chances at provocation. Even partial mobilization would not be possible to conduct in secrecy. Purkayev, though, managed to convince him and Commissar Nikolay Vashugin to return artillery regiments and engineer battalions from training camps to their parent divisions. Besides these measures, Kirponos gave orders to each covering division to move forward small detachments and take up positions in the fortified districts.

  Measures to increase readiness of second-echelon forces were taken as well: each regiment to have ready ammunition kept directly with the subunits, and half of the ammunition allocated to machine guns to be loaded into disks and belts; half of hand grenades, artillery, and mortar ammunition to be directly distributed to the units; all vehicles to be topped off and a quantity of fuel sufficient for one refuel to be kept with them in cans.

  Approximately a day after Kirponos instructed small units to occupy the fortified districts, a telegram arrived from the General Staff. In no uncertain terms, Kirponos was chastised for possibly giving Germans the pretext for an armed clash. Kirponos was ordered to immediately cancel these orders and return the units to their garrisons. Kirponos and his staff later found out that his initiative was undermined by someone at the headquarters of the NKVD border guards, who had an additional task of making sure that no actions to provoke the Germans were taken. As it were, this incident completely snubbed out Kirponos’ initiative to take prudent precautionary measures. Heavily weighing on Kirponos’ mind was the understanding that Stalin personally considered Ukraine as a strategically vital area. According to Zhukov:

  J. V. Stalin was convinced that during the war with the Soviet Union, the Hitlerites will be striving first to capture the Ukraine, the Donetsk basin, in order to deny our country the most important economic regions and capture the Ukrainian grain, Donetsk coal, and then—oil from Caucasus. While considering this operational plan in the spring of 1941, J. V. Stalin said: “Without these vital resources the Fascist Germany could not wage a prolonged and large-scale war.” These considerations were signed off on in February 1941, and these plans became known as MP-41. While updating the operations plans in the spring of 1941 (February to April), we did not completely correct this oversight and did not allocate sufficiently large forces for the western [Belorussian] direction.29

  Kirponos was torn between wishing to do his best to protect the vital areas as outlined by Stalin and, at the same time, realizing that his measures were not enough, not wanting to be labeled as an alarmist.

  However, some of Kirponos’ subordinate commanders were secretly making their own preparations. Around this time, commissar of the VIII Mechanized Corps, Nikolai Popel, visited his friend, commander of the Twenty-Sixth Army, Maj. Gen. Ivan N. Muzychenko, at latter’s headquarters in Drogobych. During a frank conversation, Muzychenko told his friend: “Between us, I moved infantry from garrisons into fortified districts. I’m not in a hurry to report this to my superiors. Don’t want to be labeled panic-monger.”30 Likewise, Popel’s own commander, Lt. Gen. D. I. Ryabyshev, under his own authority and also not reporting to higher echelon, moved parts of each regiment in his corps to their staging areas.31

  Officers from subordinate armies continued bombarding Kirponos with warnings of increased German activity and questions about when they could take up positions in the fortified districts. Kirponos, while agreeing with them, could not give them concrete answers, other than reassuring them that Moscow knows what it’s doing.

  However, from senior officers down to the lower-ranking ones, few doubted what was coming. Lieutenant Arkhipenko wrote:

  In the spring of 1941, German reconnaissance planes constantly violated our border and conducted reconnaissance flights over the Soviet territory and our airfield,
but there were instructions not to shoot them down and not even to scare them, but only escort them to the border. Everything was done as to postpone [emphasis added] the war, prevent the development of attempted German provocation.32

  In an attempt to allay growing concerns and fears, Telegraph Agency of the Soviet Union (TASS) published a statement on June 14, 1941. In this officially sanctioned statement, the Soviet government categorically denied worsening relations between Germany and the Soviet Union and reiterated wishes of both governments in maintaining peaceful coexistence. However, this statement only served to further bewilder those Soviet officers in key positions and those deployed along the border, who were well aware that what they saw daily with their eyes did not match rosy official prognostications.

  In Moscow, Timoshenko and Zhukov continued to practically beg Stalin to take steps that would effectively amount to mobilization. After an especially trying meeting, Stalin blew up at his senior military advisors: “Are you suggesting that the country mobilizes, raises troops and moves them to the western borders? But this means war! Do you two understand this or not?”33

  Finally, Stalin partially relented:

  Moscow, of course, knew the situation on the other side of the border better than we did, and our supreme military command took actions. On June 15th we received orders to begin moving all five rifle corps of the second echelon closer to the border on June 17th. We had everything ready for this since beginning of May. . . . [Each] corps was given two to three days to get ready for the force march. Some of divisions were to set off in the evening of June 17th, the rest—a day later. They were to take with them everything needed for combat operations. As a measure of concealment, the troops were to move only at night. They would need a total of eight to twelve night stages.34

  In order to prevent the Germans from finding out about these movements, the reserve corps were to take up positions not at the border, but several marches to the east. The XXXI Rifle Corps, leaving Korosten area, was to reach Kovel by morning of June 28. The XXXVI Rifle Corps was to arrive in Dubno-Kremenets area by morning of June 27. The other three reserve rifle corps were also given similar time tables.

  On June 19, Major General Ponedelin, commanding the Twelfth Army, requested clarification in which instances he could open fire on German aircraft violating Soviet air space. General Kirponos permitted opening fire only in the following situations: “a) with special permission by the Military Council of the District, b) with announcement of mobilization, c) with activation of covering plan, unless specifically forbidden.”35 This amounted pretty much to “when the war starts.” Kirponos also offered a pointed reminder to Ponedelin and his staff: “The Military Council of the Twelfth Army knows that we do not open antiaircraft fire on German aircraft during peacetime.”

  Also on June 19, a telegram arrived from Zhukov informing them that Timoshenko ordered to redesignate peacetime Kiev Special Military District into wartime South-Western Front. Front’s command element was to move to its wartime command post in Tarnopol by June 22. Of course, neither Zhukov nor Timoshenko knew that this command post had not been established as previously ordered. The move was to be carried out in compete secrecy. In order to speed up the process and conceal it from the enemy, command element was to move in two parts—by railroad and by car. Those leaving by railroad were to depart in the evening of June 20, those in the wheeled convoy, in the morning of June 21.

  Two days later, as the last day of peace, June 21, drew to a close, a German deserter crossed over to the Soviet side of the Western Bug River border in Ukraine in the area of operations of Major General Fedyuninskiy’s XV Rifle Corps. This deserter, with the rank of sergeant, reported that the invasion would begin at 0330 hours the next morning. Information was quickly relayed from Fedyuninskiy’s headquarters to the Fifth Army, then to South-Western Front. From there, General Purkayev called Moscow. For the previous several days, personnel at the People’s Commissariat for Defense and the General Staff had worked almost eighteen-hour days, with Timoshenko and Zhukov often sleeping in their offices. It took only a few minutes to reach and brief them. In their turn, Zhukov and Timoshenko immediately reported to Stalin, who ordered them to the Kremlin in forty-five minutes.

  Timoshenko and Zhukov quickly gathered up their already-prepared drafts of alert orders, picked up Lt. Gen. N. F. Vatutin, Chief of NKO’s Operations Section, and went to see Stalin. “On the way there we agreed to convince Stalin by all means possible for permission to bring up forces to combat readiness,” Zhukov later recalled. Stalin was alone in his office. After a brief report by generals, several members of Politburo arrived, who remained more or less silent observers without taking any significant part in discussions.

  Finally, Stalin asked Timoshenko and Zhukov straight out what they wanted to do. They quickly presented their MP-41 mobilization plan. After hearing them out, Stalin still did not agree with full measures, consenting to a watered-down version, strongly cautioning not to fall for provocations. The three generals excused themselves to another room and hashed out a modified version, which was finally approved by Stalin. Vatutin immediately hand-carried this version to the General Staff for dissemination to border districts. Transmission was completed by 0030 on June 22. The war was three hours away.

  Part II:

  THE BORDER BATTLE

  CHAPTER 6

  We Are Under Attack! What Should We Do? June 22

  MANY OF THOSE WHO SURVIVED THE WAR to talk about the predawn hours of Sunday, June 22, 1941, remembered the multitude of frogs inhabiting this particular swatch of northwestern Ukraine among the wide, swampy banks of the Western Bug River.1 Their unrelenting croaking provided a cacophony of sounds in the foggy morning up and down the river near a small Ukrainian town of Ustilug.2

  The sounds of frogs, however, did not mask the growling of vehicle engines on the other, German-occupied, bank of the river. To the young guard pacing across the Soviet end of the highway bridge spanning the river, these sounds seemed to be increasing over the past few nights, with the hooded glare of vehicles’ headlights dissipated somewhat in the morning fog.

  The fog would melt away in a couple hours of what was promising to be a beautiful Sunday morning. He pulled his green-topped round cap of NKVD Border Guards deeper on his closed-shaved head and pulled the overcoat tighter around himself, keeping alert eyes on the other end of the bridge.

  Few minutes later, the young guard became aware of two sets of dimmed headlights as two trucks pulled onto the bridge from the other bank. Wary, but not worried yet, he quickly glanced to his left and right where two heavy machine guns were emplaced to cover the bridge. The three-man crews of Maxim machine guns also saw the two approaching vehicles; the gunners’ thumbs rested on the butterfly-shaped triggers of their weapons.

  As the two vehicles pulled closer, the young guard was surprised to recognize the shapes of Russian-built GAZ-AA trucks. He pulled his rifle off his shoulder but held it at port-arms, ready to halt them. The cab of the first vehicle, an upgraded clone of an American Ford truck, was occupied by two men in Soviet uniforms, the man in the passenger seat wearing collar tabs of a captain. The truck slowed down and lurched to a stop several steps past the young guard. The captain in the front truck addressed him in a flawless Russian: “Good morning, comrade.” Machine gunners in the emplacements, recognizing Soviet uniforms and hearing Russian speech, eased their fingers from the triggers.

  The last thing the young guard saw was a seemingly gigantic muzzle of a pistol appearing in captain’s hand. He was cut down by several shots even before uttering a sound. The canvas tarp was thrown off the back of the truck, and two pairs of grenades arched high into the morning air, descending onto the machine-gun positions. They were followed by men in Soviet uniforms, bearing Soviet weapons, jumping off the truck and running towards the border guards’ emplacements. Dazed survivors of machine-gun crews, crumpled around scattered sand bags, were quickly finished off by point-blank shots.

  The second
truck raced by them and halted farther down the block, disgorging its own load of German Brandenburg commandos clad in Soviet uniforms.3 Scarcely a year and a half ago, the Russo-Finnish War ended, leaving ample amounts of Soviet equipment, arms, and uniforms in Finnish hands. The Finns readily provided Germans with a sufficient quantity of captured materiel of their common enemy. Now, the Soviet-dressed German commandos spread out in a skirmish line, hugging whatever cover available, setting up a perimeter around the bridgehead on the Soviet side. A dozen commandos scurried under the bridge, removing pre-positioned Soviet explosives. The bridge thus secured, the captain, in actuality a Brandenburg lieutenant, turned toward the German side and quickly dashed off a prearranged sequence of blinks with his flashlight. A score of headlights came to life on the western bank, and a company of German armored cars and motorcyclists dashed to the eastern side to reinforce commandos.

  The same scene repeated itself eight miles farther south, where German commando and reconnaissance troops secured a railroad bridge. They were closely followed by combat engineers, bringing forward prepared wooden planking to make the railroad bridge passable by wheeled vehicles. On their heels more and more Wehrmacht troops began flowing onto the Soviet territory, covered by massive German artillery barrage of all calibers. Overhead in the brightening sky, squadrons of aircraft with black crosses darted east, seeking out Soviet airfields, communication centers, and military installations.

  At 0330 hours, all up and down the western border of the Soviet Union, the German artillery and air force unleashed punishing strikes on largely still-sleeping Soviet forces. Fearful of provoking Germans into an armed conflict, the Soviet dictator Josef Stalin had expressly forbidden Red Army field forces from taking up defensive positions in the fortified regions along the border. When he finally gave in to frantic pleas of his senior military advisers and permitted partial alert and deployment of Red Army field forces, it was too late. In many instances, the first notification of war the Soviet soldiers received was German bombs and shells exploding among their garrisons.