Hausser nodded, indicating to the two Italians, ‘The two Italians fought on the Don Bend and joined us just north of Stalino…’ He shifted uncomfortably, glancing at Tatu, ‘Herr Hauptmann…may I ask, why are there so many Russians and partisans behind our advance? There seem to be a lot more than before…are we not clearing positions as thoroughly or guarding prisoners well?’
The captain nodded to Donatello and Udet, his expression darkening as he turned to stare into Hausser’s eyes, ‘The war has changed for the worse whilst you were at the Volga, my friend. Now there are many more partisans behind us and they are well armed…we suspect the Russkies are dropping supplies behind our lines to support them and coordinating their efforts by radio. There are even rumours that they are formed into makeshift units and control some villages all across Belorussia and in particular in the Pripyat area…we are having to use more and more soldiers to guard our supplies and railways. Some parts of the lines even having block houses built every three to four hundred metres to guard the tracks, they are attacking all across the Eastern Front.’ He glanced along the soldiers lining the track next to them, ‘Any Russian soldier we do not kill or capture seems to be able to join the rebels or simply disappears into forests…awaiting any of our forces to venture nearby to ambush. Even when we clear an area, they seem to re-emerge, we have to place well-armed units with movements of supplies and in particular the wounded…they show little mercy to our wounded soldiers. Our forces can no longer patrol in small groups…it takes a foolishly brave soldier to go out alone…’ The captain then stared ahead, the Hanomag beginning to rise up as snow covered slope towards more trees, his hand rising to point, ‘This forest should be clear, most of my forward unit is in there as well as another Infantry Division further to the north.’
Leutnant Hausser nodded solemnly, the carrier jolting from side to side, ‘May I ask Sir, which unit are you from?’
Captain Huber smiled faintly, then his eyes widened, ‘Actually I am with an advanced section of the 333rd Infantry Division, the rest are following us to the south…we were formed with soldiers of the 76th in November 1941…’ He grinned, ‘You could have been close to joining us Leutnant…’
Hausser grinned, ‘Not quite…I was in the Crimea attached to the 11th Army then, helping coordinate our efforts with the Romanians against Sevastopol…in December, I was flown to Smolensk to report on how long it would take to overcome the cities defences and the viability of attacking across the Kerch Straits. The Russians counter-attacked from Moscow and we formed makeshift units from the reserves and transport troops to try and stop them…I ended up in Cholm and was cut off with a small unit. In May when we were relieved, I was flown back to the Crimea…for a rest I was told!’ He grinned ironically, seeming embarrassed, ‘I was just in time to join the advance against the Russians towards Kerch…given a reconnaissance unit to clear the villages along the Black Sea coast. At the end of the campaign, I was sent back to the 76th Infantry Division near Kharkov…that was early June 1942, just before we started the advance towards Stalingrad and into the Caucasus.’
Petru, Tatu, Donatello and Udet were listening intently, glancing at each other furtively as the captain’s eyes widened further, his surprise evident as the Hanomag rumbled onwards, ‘Herr Leutnant…you have had quite a busy war in the east…’ He glanced at the other soldiers in the back of the carrier, ‘Did you men know this?’
The four soldiers shook their heads, Tatu indicating he would like to speak, the commander nodding as the Romanian coughed slightly, pointing at Hausser’s chest, ‘Herr Leutnant…can we ask please, where did you get the Iron Cross?’
Leutnant Hausser looked away, his cheeks flushing slightly as he stared towards the trees at the top of the slope, Captain Huber turning to study at him incredulously, ‘You have an Iron Cross and do not display it?’
Hausser shook his head, his voice reflectively distant as a cold breeze swept across them, ‘I was given a medal in recognition of what my men and I achieved…very few of them are alive today so I believe it improper of their memory to just provide my version of events.’ His hand rose slowly to his chest, touching the medal beneath his padded jacket, ‘They all fought very bravely and as a result I survived along with many others. I was their commander, so received a decoration for what they had done…of something I was a part of only.’ He glanced round, smiling faintly as his mind cleared, ‘I use it to overcome difficulties, just as they did at the time with their sacrifices…’
The five men were staring wide eyed at the officer, Udet shaking his head as he exhaled heavily, Petru’s eyes filling with emotion as Tatu turned away. In the driver’s compartment, Sergeant Moretti slowly turned back to look at ‘Hase’, his observation going unnoticed and voice a low whisper, ‘Keep driving my friend…’ He turned back, seeing the soldiers’ uncomfortable expressions and raising his voice, ‘May we have a warm drink for the captain? The driver and his mate are thirsty!’
Udet grimaced, the shout spurring his young body nervously into action, ‘Y-yes…of course, Herr Hauptmann…some coffee?’
Captain Huber broke his stare towards Hausser, ‘Ermm…yes, that would be nice…warm drinks for everyone…’ He followed the Leutnant’s gaze towards the trees in the distance, changing the subject, ‘There are several units ahead…preparing for the next attack. The Luftwaffe will be available at first light to fly sorties in our sector in strength as well as further reserves from the south including Panzers, so we have determined to continue the advance then. You should join us…we have a company of the 387th Infantry ahead…formed from several units that survived the Russian offensives in the south. They are very keen to attack, we have discovered from enemy radio intercepts and reconnaissance that the Russians ahead are the 1st Guards Army, many of which inflicted the defeat on our allies in the south…’ He turned to glance at Donatello, ‘Including surrounding the Italian 8th Army!’
The young Italian stiffened, a wry grin forming across his face, ‘So we meet them again…this time we take revenge for our losses last month!’
Leutnant Hausser spun round, his lips pursed in determination, ‘Are we to attack them head on? They are a powerful unit…’
Huber raised his hand in reassurance, grinning with relish, ‘The majority of their units are to the south west as part of their offensive, we will be attacking their flanks and driving north…cutting them off and surrounding them…they will be destroyed completely! Then we will continue on towards Isyum.’
Hausser nodded, ‘Our orders are to report on the advance to Gross Deutschland Division to the north, that will meet with those instructions...the railway line south of Slavyansk.’ He smiled at the captain, ‘Very well Herr Hauptmann…it seems we are with you for the time being.’
Chapter Thirteen: Detour
The Hanomag slowed as it reached the trees at the top of the slope, ‘Hase’ gritting his teeth as the carrier slipped below the first branches, his nervousness rising from what had come before. Sergeant Moretti slapped his thigh, his mood becoming jovial as he indicated over his shoulder, ‘There is apparently no need to fear this forest, the Germans should be positioned throughout according to Il Capitano.’
The carrier accelerated, ‘Hase’ manoeuvring the armoured vehicle to the side of the track as a line of marching German troops came into view, their helmeted heads turning to observe the Hanomag as they edged towards the trees on the left, several stepping onto the downward slope that led into the forest to let the cumbersome vehicle pass.
Udet slipped into the front compartment, grinning as he handed two steaming metal cups to Sergeant Moretti, his eyes sparkling, ‘We advance tomorrow morning against the Russkies once more…the 1st Guards Army…we will get our revenge for Stalingrad!’
Moretti nodded, glancing at ‘Hase’ as the Russian grimaced, his eyes fixed on the viewing slit before him. Udet slipped back into the open rear area, the Italian leaning forward to hand a mug to the driver, ‘So…we are to advance against the 1s
t Guards Army…is that troubling you? Did you understand Udet?’
‘Hase’ glanced briefly across at him, his expression grave, ‘I understood what unit we will face…the 1st Guards Army is formed from around Kiev, my home city…’ He sighed slowly, shaking his head, ‘That may prove difficult for me…the soldiers will not only be my countrymen, but perhaps even people I knew…they are enlisted Ukrainians, not from Russia or the far eastern states, but my home.’
The Italian’s eyes widened, ‘Shall I tell Hausser…he could have you moved to duties in the rear areas…’
‘Hase’ shook his head, glancing back at him, ‘No…I will not hunt partisans. Besides, what will the Germans say to me? I am Russian and only speak a few words…I am liable to be shot with the enemy…or end up in a Hiwi unit…’ He swallowed deeply, hearing the conversation resume behind, ‘No, I will drive…I am happy to do this…I can keep our soldiers safe without shooting at my people. We are now in the Eastern Ukraine…my conscience seemed easier when we were a long way from here…’ He nodded forward, smiling fleetingly, ‘Look, now we can move easier…’ The Hanomag accelerated, the carrier having passed the infantry company, the soldiers behind stumbling back onto the snow covered track.
Tatu leant against the upper armoured protective plate, sipping the chicory coffee, his eyes staring into the trees on either side, the faint rumble of gunfire emanating from the east and north. Several tents had been constructed amongst the trunks and branches, a number of German soldiers sitting or lying between the trees before fires and their accommodation for the night. Many were smoking, a number drinking and chatting as the carrier clattered past, exhaust clouds billowing in its wake.
The track began to widen as another joined at an angle from the south west, the dense trees now set back from the thoroughfare due to logging. Tatu turned to stare down the adjoining wider road, numerous Opel Blitz lorries and halftracks parked along the right hand side, the majority edged under the trees for cover. Driving carefully towards them were several motorcycles, a Horch staff car skidding and sliding behind across the snow followed by an Sdkfz 221, the wheeled armoured car suffering similar challenges to the vehicle ahead.
Glancing back, he saw the track opened to a clearing ahead, the remaining route with several Hanomags parked along the right side, some covered with camouflaged netting and branches to conceal their existence from any prying reconnaissance aircraft. The clouds above were becoming darker, the Romanian shaking his head as he considered a heavy downfall of snow was soon to commence.
Behind him in the rear compartment, Hausser had unfolded the map and was showing Captain Huber their intended route, Udet and Donatello staring at the map intently as Petru sipped from his metal mug.
‘Hase’ lowered the speed of the carrier as they neared the clearing, several figures in padded uniforms stepping across the thoroughfare ahead, a number of sentries turning to inspect the new arrivals as he slowed further.
Captain Huber nodded, his eyes glancing upwards at the thick grey clouds above, ‘Myrne is to the south. My command post is just beyond the forests ahead and the Russkie lines about two kilometres beyond that…we should be there in plenty of time. We will advance on Dobropillya and then on towards Isyum.’
Tatu grunted above, his voice low, ‘Herr Hauptmann, they are waving us to stop ahead…a collection area I think. Two officers are approaching…’
Leutnant Hausser struggled upwards, placing the folded map on top of the radio, his eyes widening slightly as the carrier rumbled to a halt. The clearing was about three to four hundred metres wide and had numerous tents around the outside, a steaming field kitchen with a number of command tents, obviously the headquarters of one or a couple of the divisions preparing to attack in the morning. A number of officers were smoking or talking outside their tents, four 20mm quad flak cannons in sandbagged emplacements around at the entrance and exits of the main track, two narrower tracks leading to the east and west in the centre of the clearing. To the side of the western track, three Marder II Self Propelled Guns were lined one behind each other, their padded crews loading shells into the exposed rear compartment.
The snow had been churned and broken by numerous tracked vehicles before them, a couple of officers stepping clumsily across the ruts and deep grooves as they approached, both carrying MP40 machine guns as one waved for them to wait for their arrival, clouds of exhaled breath sweeping upwards from the two men. Huber stared down as the first middle aged officer approached, saluting formally, the commander below breathing heavily and grinning, ‘Captain…I realise you may be otherwise engaged, but we require you to perform a duty for us…’
Huber nodded, Hausser saluting next to him as he recognised the rank of Major, the man continuing as his breathless companion drew level with him, ‘One of the Luftwaffe spotter aircraft came down earlier…a two man Fiesler Storch. We sent a small patrol out to locate and retrieve the crew, but they have not returned.’ He swallowed air greedily, glancing round, ‘There is a further larger patrol currently on their way as a precaution…I need you to support that unit with your carrier if possible…you will catch up with them along the track to the east.’ The major shrugged and indicated back behind the Hanomag, smiling, ‘It should only take a couple of hours…our own transports are all parked up with their engines cold. We cannot leave our fliers out in the cold air and it will get dark in the next three hours, I do not want them captured or worse…they need their warm beds and supper behind the lines!’ The middle aged man’s eyes widened as he saw the motorcycles and Horch car turn onto the track behind, the armoured car behind, ‘It seems you may also have motorcycles and another armoured car as support…’ He grinned, the officer next to him stepping uncomfortably towards the oncoming vehicles, his footing unsteady in the rutted iced snow as he waved for them to stop.
Captain Huber nodded slowly, ‘Jawohl Herr Major, we will proceed at once…how far away are your men Sir?’
The major nodded, slapping the side of the Hanomag, ‘Maybe six or seven kilometres…you should catch them in fifteen minutes or so, they will be on the track. There are scattered units in the area, so the pilots may already have been picked up and the first patrol with them, but we have heard nothing on the radio so we are just taking extra precautions as I said.’ He indicated to the officer behind, the man talking quickly with the occupants of the Horch staff car, ‘You will be in charge captain, I wish to speak with the occupants of the staff car behind regarding tomorrow’s operation…they will lend you their motorcycles and armoured car. There are Russian stragglers in the woods around…let us hope they have not located our plane.’ He smiled, saluting once more, ‘I hope to see you shortly gentlemen!’ Both men saluted as the major turned abruptly away, Hausser ducking down to slip into the driver’s compartment, the engine idling as ‘Hase’ swigged greedily from his mug, spilling most of it down his stubbled chin as the officer slapped him on the shoulder.
As ‘Hase’ stared down at his stained padded jacket in distain, Hausser grinned, indicating to the track leading east, ‘Let’s head down there ‘Hase’, we have a plane to find…’
Sergeant Moretti giggled, taking the mug from the driver as the engine roared, ‘Hase’ grimacing as the Hanomag jolted forward, the tracks on the left grinding more swiftly as the front wheels slid into the turn, the carrier lunging towards the opening in the trees. Sentries shuffled to the side as the Hanomag surged past, the clatter of tracks resuming as it gathered speed, two motorcycles and the Sdkfz 221 following in its wake.
Tatu leant back on the upper machine gun, his eyes scanning the trees as more tents came into view between the trunks, the grey skyline to the east blackened with distant plumes of smoke. He raised his scarf over his mouth as the cold air bit at his exposed features, his eyes narrowing against the freezing air as the carrier gathered speed.
The snowflakes began to drift to earth as they lumbered forward, the soldiers closing their collars against the fluttering flakes and rising cold, their b
reath becoming more drawn as they raised their own scarves. Hausser slipped back into the rear compartment, his voice withdrawn as he saw the falling snow, ‘Check your weapons…we may need them. Keep them covered until we have to get out!’
The Hanomag continued for some time, the snowfall becoming thicker as they emerged from the forest and began a gradual climb up a further slope, a group of trees on the hilltop above them. The rumble of gunfire got louder to the south east, Tatu glimpsing the distant planes circling and swooping down upon the unseen enemy mobile units, the Russians now desperately attempting to defend their remaining armour with limited and declining fuel.
Captain Huber rose from the rear bench, leaning next to Tatu as they stared at the rising smoke in the distance, his voice low, ‘Perhaps they now have a taste of Stalingrad? Was it very bad?’
Tatu nodded grimly, sighing, ‘Men were starving and dying terribly from the cold…the Russkies gave us no mercy or respite…’ He shrugged thoughtfully, ‘Strange though…’ He glanced at the expectant captain, ‘It felt like home…like we belonged there…’ Glancing to either side, the snow covered fields spread off in either direction, small collections of buildings breaking the terrain, smoke rising slowly from their chimneys.
Huber’s eyebrows rose as he glanced into the trees ahead through the falling snow, ‘Well, perhaps that is only natural…stuck together in close living, knowing there was little chance of escape…that camaraderie will cause thoughts like that…’
The Hanomag’s engine rumbled further, ‘Hase’ dropping a gear to climb a steepening slope, six figures emerging from between the trees ahead, their rifles across their chests. Captain Huber gestured upwards, the fields on either side seeming quiet, some distant figures trudging across the terrain to the south, a patrol completing their route.
Rise of the Bloodied Phoenix Page 14
