Rise of the Bloodied Phoenix

by Andrew McGregor

  Bleary eyed SS Grenadiers stared out over the wide ditch to the north, several Panzers and armoured cars smouldering on the bridges and in the lowered land below, victims of the well placed pak guns as the screams from above became deafening. The buildings opposite shook as large explosions rocked their foundations, three or four blocks swaying and then toppling downwards, the hoarse cheers of the infantrymen echoing across the defensive line as they glimpsed the dreaded enemy guns tossed upwards. Dense black smoke rose opposite, further detonations as ammunition exploded, the Luftwaffe planes diving again and again in waves to drop bombs on the determined Russians.

  Panzer engines burst into life, mortar shells pounding the Russian positions as the planes banked sharply away, the tanks rolling forward into heavy smoke cover as several stunned survivors opposite turned from their positions to run. Infantry crouched behind the Panzers as they advanced, bullets clanking off the hulls as the turrets bucked, shells sweeping into defensive positions opposite as the Das Reich Division resumed their advance.

  Behind them, the lone Hanomag rolled northwards, slowing at junctions to allow the troops to cross ahead of them from west to east. All rose from the rear compartment with steaming mess tins to stare as a Tiger Company advanced ahead, the whitewashed large angular new tanks lumbering across their view, deep low engines burbling as they marvelled at the sight. One of the commanders sat in his turret waving a black uniformed arm, soldiers marching forward on either side as Udet saluted, receiving a humorous slap to the back of the helmet from Tatu, the tank commander, Adlan Meier back grinning in response.

  Petru’s eyes drifted to the east, dark black smoke plumes filling the sky above the buildings, the SS now advancing into the centre of the city as the Hanomag rumbled forward once more. Tatu grinning as he gestured towards the SS heavy tanks to the right, ‘Now that is what I call a fighting vehicle…did you see the armour? The Russkies have nothing like that…’

  Petru glanced round at his friend, his eyes sullen and tired, ‘Not yet…but they will probably make some soon…’ He sat down despondently, Udet lowering next to him as the Romanian gritted his teeth, emotion filling his exhausted eyes, ‘When will we get a rest…?’

  As evening approached, they reached the north western suburbs, passing further checkpoints along the way, the sentries directing them in response to Hausser’s questions. The temperature seemed to be milder with no longer a heavy chill in the air, the Hanomag slowing as Hase glimpsed the building they required. Two Kubelwagen jeeps sat outside at the foot of three steps, the wide entrance and upper windows obviously an exclusive residence in peacetime. A 20mm flak cannon behind sandbags sat in the garden beside the steps of the entrance, the crew smoking and drinking from their mess tins.

  The square was quite large, three stories bordering the cobblestoned road. Lorries were parked opposite the makeshift headquarters, soldiers unloading ammunition boxes and rations from the rear of the Opel Blitz trucks, a small ornamental garden and fountain in the centre of the square. Pulling to a halt, Leutnant Hausser glanced round the occupants, ‘Have something to eat…I should not be too long.’ He indicated to the front, ‘Give Hase a rest from driving and some food…a hot drink…he must be exhausted.’

  Moretti nodded, Petru sat in silence in the front compartment with the terrier on his lap, Tatu grinning as Udet reached towards the stove, his eyes curious, ‘Have we time to make stew? I have some tins.’

  The commander nodded fondly, slipping the MP40 strap over his shoulder, ‘We should have…’ He grinned, correcting himself, ‘We will make time…I am hungry and I presume Tatu is…’ He stiffened, glancing out across the darkened two storey buildings, several with candlelight flickering in the windows, his thoughts briefly drifting back to Stalingrad as he glanced upwards, several bright stars breaking through gaps in the clouds.

  The grin widened as the Romanian nodded cheerfully, indicating to the front as he whispered, ‘It may cheer Petru up…he has not eaten most of the day…’ The quartermaster stared up into the clouds above, ‘It may snow later, so we should eat early…get some rest. Who knows what tomorrow will bring for us…’

  Hausser nodded, slipping between the soldiers’ knees to reach the rear doors, his boots crunching on the iced cobblestones as he slipped outside, closing the doors behind him with a dull thud.

  SS-Sturmbannführer Gerber rose from his seat, grinning widely as the dust covered officer was shown into the dimly lit upper room, the man stiffening to attention before him, the major’s arm extending to shake the officer’s hand, ‘Leutnant Hausser…you finally got here…well done.’ He shook the junior officer’s hand warmly, ‘I have spoken to your Major Wolff this evening and updated him on our positions in the city. It seems he is looking forward to seeing you further north…Grossdeutschland is closing on Belgorod and he wants you there.’ The major reached for a glass on the table before him, his eyebrows rising as he stared across at the junior officer, Hausser shaking his head, the major draining the tumbler and wincing, ‘It seems our advance has been better than anticipated…the SS performing well, I am therefore happy to release you back to your commander.’

  Hausser nodded, lowering himself into the seat opposite the major as the senior commander gestured, two candles flickering in ornate holders on the desktop, several papers strewn across the surface, the room sparsely furnished with worn drapes covering the boarded windows. The man continued as he glimpsed the weariness in the Leutnant’s bloodshot eyes, the soldier’s face heavily stubbled and uniform caked in dirt, ‘So it appears you should proceed from the city…head north east and join up with your new division.’ He nodded as Hausser forced a smile, ‘We have done well here…the Russkies are on the back foot and in full retreat. They have been unable to break through from the north and are nearly surrounded in the city before us.’ The major grinned at the silent soldier before him, ‘Well done Leutnant…please convey my thanks to your men…you are now to return to Major Wolff.’

  Leutnant Hausser continued smiling, a dizziness sweeping over him from extreme tiredness, ‘Thank you Sir…I will thank the men…’ He rubbed his eyes, ‘Apologies, Herr Major…I seem very tired just now…’

  The major rose to his feet, shaking his head, Hausser struggling upwards as the senior officer stared at him with concern, ‘No apologies necessary, my friend…you just get back safely to your unit, be careful on the roads, there are still Russian stragglers out there attacking our supply troops.’ He smiled reassuringly, extending his hand once more, ‘Take this evening as a rest in the square…I will send some drinks out for you and your squad.’

  Chapter Forty Nine: Towards Belgorod and Grossdeutschland Division

  Sleet swept across the tarpaulin covering the top of the Hanomag, a thaw setting in across the steppe, the brutal Russian winter that had produced so many frozen corpses over thousands of kilometres finally drawing to a close. With the squad sleeping soundly, snores rose from the back of the Hanomag, distant gunfire and explosions echoing from across the city.

  Leutnant Hausser stood some distance from the armoured vehicle, drawing on a cigarette as he watched the small terrier investigate the small broken garden in the centre of the square, a dilapidated fountain pock marked from gunfire, several empty bullet casings lying in the circular cement bowl beneath.

  The night before, they had all eaten initially in weary silence, even Tatu unable to lift the exhaustion, although this had not perturbed him from trying. Joking of his exploits in southern Russia, the meals he had prepared for visiting soldiers from the Wehrmacht and his own unit. Petru had then become more vocal, reminding him of the bartering they had accomplished and distances travelled across the rear areas to gain rare or the required supplies for the feasts.

  As the bottle of Schnapps was passed round, the mood had lightened, Udet giggling as Tatu recalled the futile attempts he had made at Italian cooking, Moretti laughing out loud as they crowded round the stove for warmth, candles flickering in the corners of the carri
er. The Italian had then offered to make the dishes for him, demonstrating the recipes and showing him the exact cooking time as Hausser had drifted closer towards sleep, the warmth and lowering stress leaving his aching body as the alcohol dissipated the muscle pain.

  Eventually drifting off, the others had covered him in a blanket, continuing their small party with hushed voices, discussing elaborate recipes they could prepare together after the war. Tatu had finally produced a solution, proposing they all open an Inn back in Bucharest and serve all their favourite dishes to local dignitaries, businessmen and friends. This had induced hearty agreement all round, Udet producing another mess tin full of stew for them to share, the warmed food proving too much to resist, the heat filling their bodies and promoting sleep.

  Leutnant Hausser tossed the spent cigarette away, clicking his tongue loudly as the dog turned on its heels in response, wagging its tail as he lowered to a crouch, the terrier dancing towards him excitedly. Picking the wired haired dog up, he smiled as two sentries opposite grinned gesturing to him and extending their hands to demonstrate the increasing downfall.

  Stepping back towards the carrier, he saw the tarpaulin pulled back, Tatu grinning towards him and raising his voice as he kicked Moretti and Udet’s boots playfully to wake them, Hase rolling the covering up at one end, ‘Kommen Sie Herr Leutnant, time to head north for more adventure…I believe we may have ‘Blitz und Donner’ (thunder and lightning) soon!’

  The Hanomag rumbled along the track, puddles beginning to form across the snow bound fields on either side, the early afternoon producing a clear sky, a pleasant crisp air filling the landscape. Having driven for nearly three hours, they had covered considerable distance upon clearing the city outskirts.

  Passing a unit of soldiers marching north, Tatu and Moretti had smiled back at the troops, the men clearly happy to be out of the city fighting behind, their boots striding forward to join the unit ahead and the advance on Belgorod.

  Trees lined the track, the mud seeping through the snow in several places, a light drizzle beginning to fall as Hase gunned the engine, keen to gain as much distance from the city before the roads either froze once more or became a morass of mud with a full thaw.

  Udet made tea for all, the German seeming in less pain even though Moretti insisted once more against his will at checking the young man’s bandages, the soldier indignantly agreeing and removing his dirt caked tunic only after Tatu had intervened, Petru fussing over him with a blanket as Hausser grinned at their antics from the front compartment.

  Slowing as they approached a crossroads ahead, Leutnant Hausser struggled from the front to check the map, two military policemen emerging from trees on the right, a small unit of troops sitting in the field underneath trees further forward.

  The older policeman raised his hand, Hausser slipping upwards as the man stiffened and saluted, glimpsing the officer’s rank beneath the grimed uniform, his voice seeming concerned, ‘Herr Leutnant, we have a situation ahead that perhaps you can assist with…’

  Tatu grimaced, looking down at the worn gorget across the man’s chest, the commander saluting back and lowering to lean across the armoured plate, his eyes straining, ‘What is this situation?’

  The policeman’s brow creased, his colleague stepping next to him, their motorcycle combination parked further along the right track, an officer rising in the field beyond and trudging carefully towards them. The man edged closer to the carrier, ‘There is a low bridge ahead over a narrow ravine, but a retreating Russkie unit has dug in there…we are awaiting more soldiers to dislodge them.’ He shook his head, ‘They don’t seem many, but with armoured support and the infantry here, we should be able to capture them…if they destroy the bridge with rasputitsa coming, the road will be unpassable until engineers have built another…’

  Hausser nodded, indicating to the moustached officer approaching and stiffening as he realised the young man was a captain, his hand rising in salute. The slim captain smiled nervously, saluting back as he stepped carefully across the centre of the crossroads, ‘I see this soldier has told you of the predicament…I have fifty seven men and we believe the Russkies have only ten or fifteen. I have sent for some more soldiers from an assembly point to the west…there is a medical centre there too, but they seem reluctant to commit any soldiers at present…perhaps they are short.’ He stepped forward further, indicating to the carrier, ‘We had no heavy weapons or support until you arrived…so I will have to request your assistance.’

  The captain smiled as Hausser nodded, ‘Yes Sir…what do you suggest as our attack?’

  The officer glanced back down the track heading north east, pointing, ‘We will set off across the field and circle round to attack them from the right flank…you drive up the road in ten minutes to draw their fire…that should be sufficient. The engines may even scare them off, so make lots of noise…’

  Hausser glanced at Tatu, the Romanian nodding his approval and rubbing his matted moustache nervously as the young commander replied, ‘Very well captain, we will follow in ten minutes…use the upper gun to suppress them whilst you attack from the flank. It seems we should not lose the bridge…especially with the muddy season coming.’

  The captain nodded, saluting further as Hausser returned the gesture, the man turning on his heels and shouting over his shoulder, ‘Ten minutes is all we should need Leutnant…then make a lot of noise!’ He waved to the infantry in the field, indicating for them to advance, the soldiers rising and grasping their rifles reluctantly.

  Hausser turned, seeing the nervousness rise in the group’s faces, his tone reassuringly low, ‘We stay down…I will man the upper gun, the rest of you cover me only if need be.’

  Tatu interjected, attempting to build confidence as they reached for their weapons, ‘We just spray the Russkies from afar…make them run, then chase them down?’

  The young commander nodded in agreement, ‘This should be quite straight forward…’ He lowered, leaning into the front and briefing Hase, slapping the Hiwi’s shoulder reassuringly and scratching the dog’s ears.

  The Maybach engine roared as the military policemen stepped back, one lifting a cigarette to his mouth as they saluted, Hausser raising a gloved hand to his helmet as the tracks spun, then gained grip, the carrier jolting forwards.

  Rumbling along the track, Hase revved the engine, the burbling noise resounding across the low terrain as the trees passed on either side, Hausser glimpsing the infantry ahead in the field to the right, many lowered to crouches as they advanced.

  Staring along the barrel of the MG34, he glimpsed the bridge in the distance, a figure glancing out from the right as rifles cracked ahead, his hand extending to the trigger as tracer bullets swept forward, the muzzle flashing briefly. The Hanomag surged between the trees, mud thrown up behind as they advanced, gunfire resounding across the field to the right as the German infantry opened fire on the defenders.

  Bullets clanked against the front of the carrier, flashes some seventy metres away as the Russian soldiers opened fire, the carrier bounding from side to side as it slowed, the infantry to the right surging forwards. Hausser squeezed the trigger once more, the MG34 barking as the butt shuddered into his shoulder, bullets sweeping across the terrain and slicing through the trees, his eyes glimpsing several figures struggling away behind the low wooden bridge, his teeth gritted, ‘Keep moving…they are running, let’s round them up!’

  The Hanomag engine coughed, then stalled, the carrier jolting forwards and stopping abruptly. The engine roared into life once more, Hase swearing beneath as the tracks spun once more, the vehicle charging towards the bridge ahead.

  Slowing as it reached the wooden structure, Hausser spun the upper gun round, his eyes widening in horror as the rear doors creaked open, Tatu stumbling out with his PPSH 41, the three others following as the Romanian shouted, ‘Let’s clear them out!’

  Leutnant Hausser twisted the upper gun again, glimpsing several distant figures as his nervousness rose
, rifle fire on the right as the German soldiers attacked into the ravine. Dropping the gun, he swore under his breath at Tatu and turned, grasping his MP40 and lunging towards the back of the vehicle, his body dropping onto the wet snow, boots slipping as he ran along the side, shouting to Hase, ‘Get on the MG34!’

  Running across the front of the carrier before the bridge, he crashed into the wet undergrowth at the top of the bank, hearing rifle fire ahead, biting his lower lip as he slipped onto a steep slope, the decline wet as he grasped branches and roots on either side to prevent himself from falling.

  Udet reached the bottom of the ravine first to the right, twisting round, his rifle rising as he glimpsed silhouettes under the bridge through the thick undergrowth, a bullet zipping past as he fired, a scream as a Russian fell backwards. Moretti and Tatu dropped next to him, gunfire on the right erupting as the German soldiers surged into the depression, struggling through the undergrowth as bullets flew in either direction.

  Udet fired again, dropping to one knee as flashes fired from the other side of the bridge through bushes and undergrowth, a shriek behind as Petru dropped to his knees, Moretti stumbling next to the Romanian, his hands grasping the soldier below as he whined in pain, the Italian twisting as another bullet hit him in the upper left chest, his body thrown backwards.

  Udet surged forward, firing again as another Russian fell, screams filling the air as a PPSH 41 opened fire from behind, Tatu charging into the bushes, his large jacket crashing through branches and thick undergrowth as he gained on the Russians.

  Leutnant Hausser emerged from the thicket, his MP40 shuddering as he fired at the figures before him, their rifles flashing as they fired out, three twisting and falling, the others turning to flee as he shouted after them, ‘Surrender or we kill you all!’ Tatu struggled through the bushes nearby, the PPSH flashing as two more retreating riflemen collapsed, their frames shuddering from the fire, the Romanian quartermaster chasing after his prey as a muffled explosion erupted under the bridge, Udet thrown violently sideways in the undergrowth and against one of the thick wooden supports.