Rise of the Bloodied Phoenix

by Andrew McGregor

  Hausser spun round, the carrier lurching as it charged after the advancing tanks, his shout almost drowned out by firing tanks, the scream of Maybach engines and whining tracks, ‘Take cover in the rear compartment as we reach the river…we will stay behind the Panzers to break through!’ He raised the binoculars, grasping the front plate with one hand to steady himself, the carrier roaring on through billowing smoke.

  A brief gap in the shroud, his eyes straining as he viewed the opposite bank, fires and billowing black smoke almost obscuring the defences, his chest swelling as he glimpsed the buildings across the horizon, his voice rising with excitement, ‘Kharkov is ahead…these are the last Russkie defensive lines before the city!’

  He stiffened as the Hanomag surged back into the engulfing smoke, the shells detonating to their front, flashes through the shroud, his eyes widening further as he ducked down, grasping his helmet, ‘Artillerie! In Deckung!’

  The shells erupted across the slope, flashes momentarily blinding drivers through their viewing slits, the tanks and carriers shaking and buffeted by blast waves. Four Panzers lumbered to a halt, three with smoke billowing from their hulls, the hatches springing open as stunned and bloodied crews scrambled out of their metal charges, the remaining tank having lost a track.

  Three following Hanomags were disabled, the rear doors of one springing open as an SS major shouted desperately for the crew and infantry to leave, flames surging from beneath the bonnet as they scrambled out into the snow. The officer’s eyes fixed on the other two crippled carriers nearby, their sides warped and punctured from direct hits, the stench of burning flesh filling the air as ammunition cracked inside, flames licking the sides of the torn armoured hulls.

  To the north, the Russian artillery crews feverishly reloaded their guns, the targeting coordinates from the front observer now garbled and simply an educated guess in the billowing smoke, communication dying as the communication cables were cut by shells. On the riverbank, the roar of engines neared as explosions tore across the terrain behind, German Nebelwerfer and heavy artillery batteries receiving new coordinates from a high circling spotter plane…the pilot had glimpsed the flashes from artillery in the distance on the city outskirts and seen the defensive positions of pak guns. Further to the south, some of the Luftwaffe first wave rose into the dull sky once more, there was still time for a last sortie…Russian artillery had been sighted and the Stukas and fighters were coming once more.

  The Panzer IVs and IIIs veered downwards, the decline becoming sharper as they neared the first defensive line. Flashes erupted through the smoke, machine gun and rifle bullets cracking against the steel hulls, the tracks whining, engines roaring as the tanks closed on the slit trenches.

  Furious defensive fire erupted from the second line, anti-tank rifle bullets cracking against the hulls as more bullets poured forth, the tanks rocking when their main guns fired, MG34 machine guns flashing through the shroud as the tracks lumbered on.

  Sergeant Moretti squeezed the trigger on the upper machine gun, the muzzle flashing as bullets tore into the billowing mass before them, the clank of small arms fire against the armoured plate causing him to duck back, the passengers below gritting their teeth in apprehension.

  Hase stiffened as the carrier bounced on roots and debris, his view obscured by the smoke billowing before them, engines roaring and the clank of bullets almost deafening around them. Udet grasped the straps above him with strained eyes, glancing from side to side in fear as flashes erupted through the shroud. Further blasts from the Panzers firing out, mortar rounds landing around them, the shrieks from defenders as the first line neared.

  The Panzers reached the first line, smashing over shallow trenches, some grinding from side to side as pitiful screams resounded outside, many of the Russian infantry turning to run, several cut down by blind fire from the second line, others disappearing beneath the tanks or peppered by machine gun fire from the following carriers.

  Hase gasped as a body suddenly bounced against the front side of the carrier, the Russian soldier thrown by an explosion, a gurgling horrified shriek cut short as he was dragged under the tracks. The Hanomag bounced further on the riverbank, tracks squealing, the shrill cracking of ice beneath the wheels reaching the driver’s ears, the shadow of a Panzer IV looming past on the right.

  The smoke rapidly cleared as the carrier lurched forward, grinding up onto the northern bank, loud clanks and rattles as bullets cracked against the hull, Hase’s eyes narrowing as flashes and sparks filled the viewing slit, Udet pushing his head back in apprehension.

  Moretti ducked back, flashes seeming to fill the terrain ahead as bullets ricocheted and bounced off the armoured plate, the engine roaring to propel the Hanomag up the slope. Panzers surged past on either side, the tanks nearing the second line as their machine guns rattled, glowing bullets sweeping forward. Helmets ducked in the shallow trenches, bright flashes from trees and bushes further away as the pak guns and hidden machine guns opened fire.

  The Panzers tore through the defences, forward machine guns spraying the Russian infantry as muffled screams of fear and terror echoed around the hulls, the crewmen inside dripping in sweat as breeches clanked, more high explosive shells thrust into the barrels.

  Hausser stared upwards, distant mechanical screams filling the air as the Stukas banked from high formation ahead, Nebelwerfer rockets soaring overhead, the smoke trails seeming to fill the sky. He grasped the MP40 tightly, glancing across at Tatu and Petru, both nodding their nervous readiness back.

  The carrier rumbled on, Moretti firing bursts blindly from above as Hase fought the controls, the tracks spinning in deep snow. He flinched as a glowing shell zipped past, exploding behind, Panzers before them grinding across the second defensive line.

  Udet’s arm outstretched, pointing in horror, the Nebelwerfer rockets landing amongst the trees and pak gun positions ahead, the numerous shells detonating within short distances of each other. The front armoured shields buckled and shattered under the violent force of the explosions, gun barrels thrown upwards as body parts of the crews were tossed into the air. Hase’s eyes widened in horror seeing trees simply shattered under the ferocious detonations and flashes, the front compartment lit briefly from bright lights of billowing fire. Splinters and flame tore through the infantry as they rose to run, Panzer machine guns flashing as the bodies crumpled and fell, the Hanomag surging forward as black smoke billowed from the small wood.

  Passing the burning trees, the intense stench of oil and broken flesh reached their nostrils, further eruptions when ammunition ignited and exploded, screams and terrified shrieks of the injured as more perished, Hase closing his eyes briefly to the carnage as the armoured vehicle surged on.

  Captain Medvedev was running, his head pounding and eyesight blurred from concussion, several bewildered men with him, their tired legs propelling their bodies north-eastwards, towards the city outskirts. Muffled gunfire and explosions swept across the landscape behind, the few remaining Russian positions standing defiantly against the German onslaught, terrified soldiers manning the slit trenches and emplacements.

  The Panzers continued, roaming across the snow with armoured cars and Hanomags, the Russian hedgehog defences in villages and hamlets quickly suppressed and destroyed, fires raging in the distance from destroyed Russian artillery positions, the Stukas flying back south as the light faded, the pilots glancing down to see flashes across the terrain below, German tanks targeting further pak guns and hidden T34s.

  Sergeant Moretti slammed another ammunition canister onto the top of the MG34, pushing discharged empty bullet casings away with his boots. The Hanomag jolted slightly, then the sound of tracks clattering on a tarmacked road reached their ears, Leutnant Hausser rising up next to the Italian sergeant, Tatu following in intrigue, their eyes fixing on the numerous tanks and armoured cars before them, then darkened buildings ahead…the lower suburbs of Kharkov.

  Chapter Forty Five: Street Fighting with the SS Grenadier
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  As dusk and then darkness drifted across the steppe, fighting in the outskirts erupted, Russian defences pounded by tank and machine gun fire as the support Hanomags and armoured cars neared the tall buildings. Leutnant Hausser stared through binoculars, Tatu next to him studying the buildings ahead, shells smashing against the outer walls, dust and flames surging upwards as the Romanian grimaced, ‘I don’t like cities anymore…’

  The young commander grinned briefly in irony, lowering the glasses, ‘You are in good company…I am reluctant to go back into the streets…the memories are not fond ones…’ Several Hanomags and armoured cars lumbered past on the tarmacked road, the passengers and crews checking their weapons as they neared the city.

  Petru slipped between them, staring out towards the buildings, the Hanomag having stopped briefly by the side of the road for refuelling, ‘This is not Stalingrad though…well not for us…’ He shook his head thoughtfully as another flash erupted across an apartment block in the distance, ‘…this time the Russians are facing a possible defeat…and a devastating one at that.’ He nodded as the two other men turned slowly to stare at him, ‘The Red Army will never forgive us for this now…’

  Tatu chuckled, slapping Petru’s shoulder fondly, ‘I always said they never had a good sense of humour…’

  They spun round hearing an engine burbled to a stop behind, the small jeep pulling up alongside them, an SS Major staring upwards as the three men stiffened and saluted, his hand rising to his cap informally and indicating to Hase and Moretti refilling the tank, ‘Where are you men going?’

  Hausser swallowed, leaning forward and staring down into the Schwimmwagen, glimpsing the SS runes on the officer’s dark collar, an Iron Cross round the man’s neck, ‘We are support troops attached to Grossdeutschland Division in the north, Herr Major…’

  The officer in his thirties nodded, adjusting his cap above a grime smeared face as the helmeted driver glanced upwards, the major continuing, ‘Good…I am gathering troops from the rear areas until the rest of my men reach the city. Once you are ready Leutnant…follow me on to the south west outskirts. I need extra soldiers to take the street fight to the enemy…they are proving very resilient.’ He turned and pointed towards a high block in the distance, the exterior walls in darkness, ‘My forward command post is at the base of that block…be there in thirty minutes.’

  The battered Hanomag’s tracks clattered across the snow covered street, Hausser staring upwards at the block ahead, his chest filling with dread as they had entered the city outskirts. Having passed lorries and infantry units forming up on the outer city roads, Tatu commented favourably on the SS and Wehrmacht’s ability to reorganise soldiers that had been advancing for miles, numerous squads re-joining their companies after losing contact during the final stages of the long offensive towards the city.

  The armoured vehicle pulled to a halt as Hausser smacked the upper plate, noting soldiers formed in their units and crouched on the street sides, eating ravenously, the flames from burning windows illuminating their smeared faces. The block seemed to sit before a junction, muffled gunfire ahead, flashes across the tops of buildings, dust laden smoke curling around the building edges.

  A captain turned from the darkened building entrance, stepping towards them and saluting, his helmet scratched and battered as he nodded to Hausser, ‘Leutnant…my major advised me you and your men would be joining us and just in time…’ He sniffed, Tatu noticing a bandage across the man’s upper arm as he continued, ‘…we will attack shortly…’ The man pointed towards a group of over twenty soldiers on the other side of the street, ‘…leave your carrier here and join with those men, you will command them Leutnant…you are to advance northwards through the buildings. There is a Russian machine gun position at the end of the street ahead, reinforced by two pak guns and infantry…they have disabled two tanks and the infantry cannot advance, so it is up to us to destroy them.’

  Leutnant Hausser nodded, his body stiffening as he saluted, ‘Jawohl, Herr Hauptmann…’ The officer smiled briefly and turned away, shouting and gesturing at several soldiers stood to their right, spurring them on to join another unit ahead, the time for attack approaching.

  Hausser slowly turned, staring into Tatu, Moretti and Petru’s eyes, the Romanian quartermaster sighing as he whispered, ‘Here we go again…’ He leant down and collected his PPSH 41 submachine gun, checking the weight and grunting in displeasure.

  The young commander smiled at the retort as Hase and Udet emerged from the front compartment, their faces lined with concern as they reached for their rifles. Hausser grimaced, hearing the terrier whine from the front, ‘Alles aus…let’s get this Russkie position…then we can carry on towards the north.’

  The soldiers moved along in silence, boots slipping forward across the snow as they tensed, lowered to a crouch and glancing side to side in nervousness. Locating the entrance to a back alley, Hausser had organised the soldiers into two units, one commanded by himself and the other Tatu, the Romanian attempting to move through the buildings.

  Leading the SS soldiers forward, they held their breaths, staring nervously up at the raised buildings on either side for the sign of an enemy rifleman or sniper. Snowflakes drifted to earth around them, the cold beginning to bite as the men’s bodies shivered. The alleyway was narrow with high brick walls on either side, the stone and masonry smeared with dirt, a light frost beginning to grip the walls. Hausser was uncomfortable with the lack of manoeuvrability on either side, his MP40 held to his right cheek as he advanced slowly, gunfire echoing across the nearby streets. Behind him, the soldiers advanced with raised rifles, the sliding of hobnailed boots across the snow the only sound.

  Reaching a small opening, he realised the crossing alley now led to either side or ahead, hearing the muffled chatter of a Maxim machine gun further to the right as he hesitated, the soldiers behind lowering to a crouch in response. Feeling the tension twist in his stomach, he stepped across, slipping into the next section of alleyways, the passage heading for a road in the distance.

  Tatu had climbed the stairs with his own section, convinced the virtually flat roofs would be the easiest way to progress, the number of volunteers reflecting his ambitious plan…he had five men accompanying him. The soldiers’ boots slipped on the tiles as they emerged into the cold air, only able to progress on their hands and knees before dropping into wide sections that had been damaged, the cold seeping through their gloves and padded uniforms. Clambering in terror to the highest section of the roof, they placed their feet either side of the raised centre, a couple swallowing hard as they stared out over the city, realising they were nearly four storeys above the tarmacked roads below.

  Making slow progress, Tatu swore under his breath to himself as the infantry behind seemed hesitant, many struggling with the height from the ground and darkness, flashes and tracers in the distance distracting them. Petru had volunteered immediately to stay with Hausser when his countryman had suggested the upper route, the prompt decision due to his friend’s vertigo as Tatu grinned.

  Leutnant Hausser continued, the eighteen men behind advancing cautiously as they neared the expected enemy position, the Maxim machine gun once more firing down the street, a muffled explosion as one of the pak guns fired out. Finally reaching the end of the passageway, he stole a glance out, realising the guns were set across the darkened street before them, his eyes straining as he scanned the buildings on either side, virtually all in darkness. Glancing left into the gloom, he saw shadows at the far end, several Russian soldiers stood at the next corner, their heads turning from side to side in rising nervousness.

  Turning, he stared into the eyes of Petru and Hase both looking pensively at him in expectation. He swallowed and hissed, gesturing towards the enemy soldiers position to the left, ‘We cross the street one by one and then charge into the building ahead, overwhelm any of them in there…the Russkies seem to be poorly deployed, but they have riflemen to the left.’

  Hase nod
ded, moving forward to be next to the officer as Petru glanced over his shoulder, briefing the men behind in a whisper.

  Hase edged with his back along the wall towards the corner, lowering to aim his rifle to the left as cover, Hausser grimacing as he slipped out into the street, running low and quickly across the thoroughfare, his heart racing as he waited for the expected gunshot. His back pushed hard against the wall opposite as he exhaled nervously, the next soldier lunging across the street behind him. The machine gun rattled out once more, glowing bullets pouring down the street parallel to the alley from only fifty metres away as one by one the soldiers ran across.

  Leutnant Hausser glanced round, making sure all the men were with him, his eyes settling on Udet at the back of the group, both he and Hase covering the left side as they strained their eyes in the darkness, glimpsing more Russian soldiers some one hundred and fifty metres away.

  Hausser stared along the street to the right, glimpsing further figures at the end, a possible machine gun position next to the building walls behind sandbags. Several of the Russian’s were smoking, the glows of the cigarettes sparkling across the frozen snow, the flakes beginning to fall heavier.

  Drawing breath, Hausser raised his hand, indicating for the soldiers to ready, sporadic firing suddenly breaking out from above as rifle shots and the rattle of a PPSH fired into the building before them, Tatu and his four soldiers creating the agreed diversion. Shouts of alarm rang out as the young commander lunged forward, charging along the front of the buildings before slipping through a side door, into a small lowered yard, sporadic return fire coming from the building ahead across the street.

  Breathing deeply, he glanced round in the gloom, sacks and a small cart lined against the outer side of the yard, then a darkened doorway. He bit his lip in tense anticipation as the German soldiers dropped next to him, waiting for the crossfire to claim a casualty, his heart pounding with the tension. As Udet and Hase slipped down next to the others, he breathed deeply edging forward, the Russian soldiers at either end of the street behind readying their weapons and staring up at the rooftop opposite.