Bloody Citadel

by Andrew McGregor

  The bodies of infantrymen lay across their slit trenches and pak positions, twisted metal and crushed guns on either side, bloodied stumps and flesh littering the positions, the sandbags splattered and soaked crimson. Udet stared down at one sandbagged position as they passed, his eyes straining in the swirling dust as he glimpsed the young soldiers’ corpses, the faces twisted in anguish and many of the slumped bodies seemingly to be in their early teens, an older officer lying face down nearby, his back perforated several times from machine gun fire.

  All across the field on either side, the bodies and twisted metal hulks sat in the hot sun, flies and vermin beginning to feed on the corpses, the young German’s nausea rising as he looked away. He began to watch the tanks before them, several Panzer IVs advancing across the field in the distance, their turrets protected by circular metal sheets, the steel painted a deep sand colour with faded green and brick overlaps, the colours seeming to swirl as he watched, realising it was the heat rising off the land and the rear exhaust fumes distorting his view. Behind them, Opel Blitz lorries and other halftracks were moving forward with ammunition, extra shells for the tanks and further supplies, further artillery units also moving up in preparation for the attack on the Russian second line.

  He jumped in surprise as Tatu grabbed his knee playfully, the Romanian slipping through from the lower front driver’s compartment and grinning at the reaction, ‘Very nervous young Udet…perhaps it’s the competition, eh?’ The quartermaster straightened next to him, smiling as he rested a hand on his shoulder, ‘You should be happy. We are all back together and attacking the Russkies again.’ He nodded towards Hausser as the Leutnant looked up, ‘Udet is no longer our youngest, Herr Leutnant…’ Tatu indicated to the three seated soldiers to his right, ‘Peter is eighteen…Kurt is seventeen I think?’ The youth nodded as he looked up, Tatu continuing as he pointed to the next soldier, chuckling, ‘This blond one is only eighteen too…Udet is now one of us older ones…although not as grumpy!’ He slapped Udet’s back, lowering to a crouch between the six soldiers crammed on the benches to either side, several drinking from their mess tins, their faces smeared with sweated dirt as Tatu smiled warmly, nodding to each man, ‘Our new unit…let us have a toast this evening to new friends and the hope the Russkies run as before…’

  Tatu looked upwards at the now gathering clouds overhead despondently, ‘We had better get the tarpaulin out…I think it will rain later…’

  As darkness began to fall, the Hanomag pulled up alongside two Panzer IVs, the crews checking inside open engine compartments and topping up their fuel tanks. Leutnant Hausser rose to glance down as Tatu beckoned him, several infantrymen smoking and chatting amongst the trees of a small wood, his eyes widening as he glimpsed a captain approaching, several carriers drawing in behind them. Three motorcycles were leant against the nearest trees, an SdKfz222 and SdKfz250/9 just visible through the trunks and undergrowth, the weary crews chewing ravenously on their rations as they sat upon the upper front armoured plate. Glancing upwards, he saw the cloud covered darkened sky, an earlier brief deluge now threatening to recommence.

  Muffled gunfire resounded ahead, several explosions as the Panzers engaged Russian armour at night, a narrow river dividing the two forces. Flares spiralled upwards from the front lines as the duels continued, heavy machine gun fire erupting as a Russian patrol was discovered in the darkness, both sides sending out hostile reconnaissance.

  Leutnant Hausser saluted as the captain reached the side of the carrier, the older man returning the salute, his face etched with concern, a greying beard lining his chin, ‘We are the forward reconnaissance battalion, I had best get straight to the point…’ He nodded as Hausser’s eyes widened, Udet and Tatu rising in uneasiness next to their commander, ‘The village ahead is in Russian hands…I am not sending my armoured cars or any tanks in at night…the Russkies will pick us off with satchel charges and grenades. We need to clear it before morning Leutnant, so I am tasking you with the job. Gather the grenadiers and attack on the eastern side of the bridge…I will have an infantry unit advance to the west and two tanks roll up towards the bridge as a distraction, and there is a mortar unit nearby for support.’ He indicated to the right, ‘The PanzerJager battalion is further east with other Panzer IVs, so there is enough armour to deter the Russkie tanks.’

  Leutnant Hausser nodded grimly, taking the MP40 from Udet’s hands, ‘Jawohl, Herr Hauptmann…our major is back along the road somewhere with some more of our men, do you want us to wait for him?’

  The captain shook his head, glancing back at the other carriers, several soldiers disembarking to smoke and drink from their mess tins, ‘No…there should be enough here. As far as we know, the Russkies have only a couple of machine guns at the far end of the village, but they may be bringing up extra men during the night. As soon as you take half the village, I will advance across the bridge in support. We are across the river further up and downstream, so you will not be isolated.’ Muffled firing erupted further west, the roaring of engines and rifle shots as a skirmish broke out.

  Hausser saluted as the captain turned to face the Hanomags behind, raising his voice, ‘You men…fall in. Two sections either side of the trees, we advance on Butovo in twenty minutes.’

  Tatu rubbed his hand across his bushy moustache nervously, grasping the PPSH 41 submachine gun tightly as he slipped through the undergrowth and trees, his eyes fixed on the darkened terrain beyond the woods. Behind him, the three younger soldiers were at a half crouch with Udet as they advanced, rifles ready, one carrying an MG34, the others each with a solid tube across their backs holding additional barrels for the machine gun. The river was lined with thick undergrowth and overhanging trees, the waterway some twenty metres wide and irrigating the land further downstream for the village residents.

  Leutnant Hausser drew next to the Romanian, behind him, Hase and Petru lowered to crouches, several soldiers following, their rifles raised nervously. Tatu grinned with rising excitement, edging closer to the river bank, his eyes looking along towards the steel spanned bridge some distance to the left as Hausser whispered, ‘According to the Hauptmann and his scouts, the bridge leads to a rising field, the track moving round to the right or east on the slope…the village is about two hundred and fifty metres north east of us, there are crops between the riverbank and the first buildings.’

  Tatu stroked his moustache thoughtfully once more, ‘Open ground before defended houses…I am not too keen on that with our youngsters, Herr Leutnant.’

  The officer nodded, grinning mischievously, ‘I had not finished…’ He chuckled as Tatu’s eyes widened, Udet and Petru concealing grins as Hase moved silently towards the riverbank, Hausser continuing, ‘…they can set up the machine gun on the bank, provide cover fire as we attack under smoke…’

  The Romanian’s eyes sparkled as he smiled, lifting the PPSH butt to his side as he glanced round to the three young soldiers, ‘Good, if we fail you swim back across the river…I am looking forward to a dip, it has been a long hot day and I have been sweating…everywhere.’

  Hausser grimaced as the three youths giggled, shaking his head as Petru interjected, ‘He is intolerable now…he has his own little group…’

  Tatu looked back, still grinning as he spoke sarcastically, ‘It is our job to keep these young ones alive long enough to get wounded so they can receive a little badge…’ He indicated to Petru, Udet and Hausser’s right chests, the black oval wounded medal against their grey uniforms, ‘...then they can have one like you…’

  Petru gritted his teeth in distain, ‘Shut up you old fool…we suffered for these, you should not make fun of them.’

  Tatu swallowed, his eyes dropping as he saw Udet look away, Hausser shaking his head, the Romanian quartermaster’s voice lowering, ‘I am sorry my friends…that was uncalled for. I apologise…’ He shook his head and stiffened, ‘Sometimes I say too much…’ Then he slipped forward, lowering himself next to Hase into the water, the submachine gun
lifted above his head as he began to wade across the river.

  One by one the soldiers followed, the chilled water a welcome sensation after the intensely hot day, their weapons raised as they stepped carefully against the current, their boots filling rapidly with the cool liquid, all wary of drinking from a river that may have numerous immersed corpses further upstream.

  Muffled machine gun fire rang out to the east as they clambered up the opposite bank, Hausser moving cautiously to the edge of the trees with Udet and Hase as Tatu whispered encouragement to the younger soldiers behind, many more now standing in the water below the bank. Staring through the undergrowth, the officer indicated to the low single storey buildings, most in darkness, a few with flickering candles, the illumination glowing from behind the few shuttered windows. The track wound across the slope before them, meandering into the village and then turning towards the north to exit the houses some three hundred metres away. Trees lined the east side of the dwellings, a further forest to the north surrounded by fields and crops.

  Udet whispered slowly, his breath low as the nervousness rose, ‘Do they not know we are here? Have they retreated?’

  Hausser shook his head, indicating to one of the outer buildings to the left, ‘There is a machine gun there between the shutters…can you see the extended muzzle?’ He shifted in the bushes, ‘Further along the track…there are sandbagged positions with soldiers on either side, probably maxim machine guns…several sentries at the other end of the village.’ His breath caught as he stared through the darkness grimly, ‘What looks like a pak gun…and perhaps more and tanks in the trees beyond.’ His eyes scanned the slope before them, ‘Slit trenches on the brow of the hill…inexperienced defences…their commander should have placed them before the rise, his bunker is also visible…the Russkies will be silhouetted if we fire flares behind them.’

  He raised a hand slowly, ‘We move down river…about another hundred metres, lay smoke and attack in a concentrated area nearest the buildings. They have set up their defences for an assault along the track only…’ He smiled at Udet and Hase, ‘…I have no intention of accepting that invitation…’

  He grasped Udet’s shoulder, ‘Get back across the river to that captain. Tell him I want flares on the other side of the slope, riflemen in the treeline to pick off the defenders and to cause a diversion and for the tanks to cross once we are in the village. Tell them not to come too quickly though due to the pak gun, for mortar fire across the village and then move it back into the trees beyond the houses…got that?’

  Udet’s eyes widened, his head nodding as Hase grinned, the young German whispering in awe, ‘We have only been here a minute…’ Then he shook himself from inaction, raising a hand to his brow in salute, a wry smile of fondness on his face, ‘I will be back soon, Herr Leutnant…ten minutes to covering fire?’

  They moved silently along the bank, clambering upwards only at the designated point, Tatu and Petru indicating each position for the squads of soldiers, some sixty in all having now crossed the river.

  Leutnant Hausser crouched next to the machine gun on the steep incline to the river, the young blond German gunner carefully and meticulously arranging the fresh ammunition canisters next to him on the right, the spare barrels on the left. Smiling at the arrangement, the officer whispered to the two youths next to the gunner, ‘It is your responsibility to protect him…to keep the gun firing.’ He indicated to the slope and then right to the village, ‘You will also need to fire at both areas…the slope once you see the flares land and straight down the track into the village. Once you see we are nearing the track, move your fire to the northern edge…’ He indicated to the shutters he had seen earlier, ‘There is a machine gun in that window…so be careful and stay on the riverbank, that will provide you with cover. Fire two bursts, then move sideways…it stops you being targeted directly…’

  The youths nodded warily, Kurt looking down to check his rifle, the bolt pulled back slowly as Hausser continued, ‘I will leave Petru here with you whilst we attack…he will help you…’

  Peter grinned, nodding in welcome, his hand moving to his own rifle as Hauser slipped back into the water, the commander whispering back, ‘Only fire once we have and then when the smoke grenades erupt…’

  Crouching on the riverbank, Hase glanced along the sombre helmeted faces on either side, hearing sporadic rifle shots to the west, the silhouettes extending for some distance to the right with rifles and submachine guns raised. As Hausser lowered next to him, he grinned, indicating further along the line to the right, ‘Tatu is down there…I think Udet has joined him, I saw a figure in the water…’

  The officer nodded in satisfaction, ‘Petru is with the machine gun and our youngsters…we are ready.’

  They stiffened as the dull thumps in the distance echoed around the soldiers, Hausser’s eyes widening in surprise, ‘Heavy artillery…I am impressed at short notice. This captain must have good radio connections with the division…’

  The explosions ripped through the northern most part of the village, flashes from the detonations lighting up the darkness around, Hausser and Tatu scrambling up the slope as the smoke stick grenades revolved through the night air, puffing and rolling across the two small fields before the village.

  Further detonations, several buildings ripped to pieces, burning wood and straw thrown upwards, the shrapnel from rocks and shattered fences crashing down on the sentries and machine gun positions. Tank tracks rattled as the Panzer IVs roared towards the bridge, the Russian soldiers in the slit trenches readying anti-tank rifles, the others their rifles and submachine guns.

  Mortar rounds fell across the buildings, several more disintegrating under the explosive force, as flames leapt upwards, the heavy artillery from Wespe self propelled guns now targeting the woods beyond, the captain ordering a moving bombardment, providing several sets of coordinates to the Wespe commander.

  As the smoke filled the fields, Leutnant Hausser lunged forward, hissing to either side for the soldiers to follow, the infantry running forward at a half crouch as further mortar rounds detonated, screams of alarm from the wounded defenders ringing out.

  Shells poured into the treeline beyond the village, the high explosive rounds shattering branches and trunks alike, the two concealed Russian pak gun batteries sustaining direct hits as the crews ducked into their slit trenches in surprise. Earth and debris collapsed on top of them, the shrapnel tearing through flesh as screams of pain resounded through the burning trees, six of the eight guns destroyed as the spare ammunition ignited.

  Diesel engines roared as the Russian T34 tanks reversed from the trees, the twelve machines waiting to ambush any surviving German armour that had evaded the pak guns. Their commander rose in his turret, waving frantically for the tanks to advance into the village to support the infantry, the wide tracks spinning on churning earth and cracking branches.

  The German soldiers surged in between the houses, smoke and embers from burning buildings swirling around them, the cracks of rifles ringing out as the Russian defenders fired on their attackers. Machine gun tracers swept along the track, clanking against the armoured shield of the pak gun, two crew members killed, one beheaded as he looked over the protective plate through binoculars, the mortar shells now landing behind them in the northern section of the village.

  Then the clatter of tracks across the bridge, the Panzer IV commander urging his tanks on with another addition as more joined from the rear. Armoured cars headed from the crossing as grenadiers surged up the banks on either side, the brow of the hill opposite brightly lit from pulsing flares as artillery began to fall on the targeted trenches.

  Drifting smoke billowed over the first tank, anti-tank rifle fire clanking against the forward plate as the Russian gunners targeted the bridge, eruptions filling their ears as explosions ripped across the slope and low ridge. Then the lead tank was through the smoke, the Russians staring in surprise at the higher hull, the distinctive longer main gun as it belched flame
, the 88mm high explosive shell zipping forward and ripping through the command bunker, the disintegrating roof flying upwards as bodies were tossed backwards and to the sides.

  Further explosions engulfed the slope, the first tank grinding round on the slope to advance on the village, the Tiger I followed by side skirted Panzer IVs, the medium tanks fanning out to the sides to roll up towards the village.

  Leutnant Hausser was shouting encouragement, advancing between the buildings with his MP40 raised, gunfire on either side as the Germans wrestled for control of the houses. Bitter hand to hand fighting broke out, rifle butts smashed against faces and chests as the Russians desperately defended, realising their defence had now been disorganised. Soldiers fought with bayonets and entrenching tools throughout the buildings, screaming in hatred as Hausser advanced with Hase.

  Reaching the track, he ducked out quickly to check the route ahead, buildings burning fiercely on either side to the rear of the village. Bullets zipped past from the Maxim machine guns to the north, his head pulling back quickly as several cracked against the building next to him, wood splinters flying past as he ducked.

  Then he glanced round, the squealing of tank tracks arousing his curiosity, his eyes widening as he saw the Tiger tank and Panzers on either side, the turret bucking as the 88mm gun fired, flames erupting from the muzzle. The bright light swept past, an explosion at the end of the village destroying the pak and nearby Maxim machine gun.

  The electrical turret motor whirred, a shell flashing against the Tiger’s front plate as the Panzer IVs accelerated, their own turrets turning as the T34 tanks were silhouetted against the burning tree line. The Tiger bucked again as another shell bounced off the front armour, the large turret turning further before it fired, Hausser glancing out as the glowing shell swept towards its target. The T34 erupted on the slope, the flaming tank rising briefly into the air from the violent impact before crashing back down, the molten metal cracked and shattered.