by Colin Gee
“Your ID, Feldwebel.”
Bancke collected up the necessary from the four silent men with him, and passed it over to Schuster.
The Polish ID card drew closest examination.
“Skorzeny’s raiders eh? Where is the mighty Colonel?”
“Somewhere back there, Herr Maior. Far as we now, he never escaped. We got away after being ambushed by the NKVD, first night of the attacks. Been running ever since.”
He pointed across the water.
“And that? A diversion, I assume?”
“Yes, Herr Maior. Couple of our special friction charges were set and all we had to do was hide and wait for someone to set them off.”
Handing back the ID cards, Schuster gestured to his men, signalling a relaxation in approach.
“Well, Feldwebel, you’re all back in friendly lines now, so welcome to the fuck up that is liberated Poland.”
The tension disappeared in an instant.
Beckoning to two troopers, Schuster assigned them to cling to the vehicle and direct the escapees to the aid post, where their obvious wounds and bruises could be attended to.
Taking his leave of the readiness squad’s commander, he helped Bancke adjust the rear propeller and found a perch for himself.
1001 hrs, Monday, 1st April 1946, Treptow Palace, PLAG Headquarters, Treptow an der Rega, Pomerania.
Even without an overall organising force controlling Soviet resistance at the commencement of the landings, the Polish Liberation Army Group had been in trouble from the start.
The rapid organisation of Soviet resistance under Kudryashev and Rybko, combined with the excellent defence and subsequent counter-attack that Bagramyan mounted against the British Twenty-First Army Group, meant that it was still in trouble.
During the planning stage, even though the rewards for success were huge, many had considered the Pantomime operation to be too ambitious.
Some had even drawn parallels with Market-Garden, with its paradrops at considerable distance, and the narrowness of the route that the relief force would take.
The doubters were in the minority, and frayed nerves had been soothed by the fact that considerable friendly forces would already be on the ground, in the person of First Polish Army [AWP].
Perhaps, not surprisingly, the invasion element had gone extremely smoothly, the supporting divisions and subsequent logistical support delivered according to timetable, thanks to experience gained in Allied operations against the German enemy.
The Red Air Force had valiantly tried to interfere and, barring one bomb hit on the battleship HMS Warspite, had failed, and done so at further great cost to their dwindling number of men and machines.
Surviving submarines from the Baltic Fleet had also tried, with much more success, torpedoing three Allied warships.
The USS Reno, an Atlanta-class light cruiser specifically on station for her enhanced AA abilities and only recently returned to service following damage sustained against the Japanese in 1945, was again struck and damaged. Only a few minor injuries were sustained, all her guns remained in action throughout the day, and she remained on her battle station.
HMS Saintes, a hastily commissioned Battle class AA destroyer, lost her stern to twin torpedo strikes, and had to be towed back to Kiel. Thirty-seven of her crew were killed in the explosion and the subsequent desperate attempts at damage control.
The AA ship, KMS Thetis, a former Norwegian pre-dreadnought battleship, converted post-1940 Norwegian invasion and taken into German service, succumbed to two torpedoes and settled upright in shallow water, some two hundred yards off Berg Dievenow.
She continued to fire throughout the attack, and for days to come, despite the loss of twenty-seven of her crew.
None of the attacking submarines returned to their home ports, as American, British and German sub-hunter groups proved extremely effective, sending eight to the bottom of the Baltic in as many hours.
One German destroyer, KMS Karl Galster, brought about her own problems by enthusiastically following up a depth charge attack from the Dutch HNLMS Van Galen.
Once the Soviet submarine had been sunk, the Van Galen took the stricken Karl Galster in tow, the blast of the Dutch depth charges under her stern having blown numerous prop seals as well as wrecking the shaft mountings and bending the shafts themselves.
In spite of these relatively minor issues, the Allied fleet poured men and equipment ashore, plus much needed munitions, stocks captured from the Soviets destined for the Poles, whose own supplies had been eroded by demands from the Western Front.
The Polish Liberation Army Group comprised two Armies, the First [AWP] and Tenth.
The former was comprised of the original Polish forces in country and was now stable. Within First Army [AWP], there had been many Soviet officers and men, and the vast majority were handled with care and disarmed without violence, out of deference to comrades who had fought side by side against the German. Although many Russians had already been sent westward to other units to replace battle losses, non-Polish soldiers still accounted for nearly 10% of the strength of First Army [AWP], creating a logistical issue as prisoners by their numbers alone.
Despite the warnings from the intelligence services, some NKVD units had still been unprepared, and many of their soldiers were caught napping by Polish soldiers intent on carving out their country’s freedom.
The NKVD divisions that had been placed strategically around Pomerania had been emasculated by silent attacks, the commanders either captured or killed, depending on how much resistance they chose to display. There was no love lost between Pole and NKVD soldier, something that manifested itself clearly, as the slightest hint of dissent or failure to lay down weapons was met with brute force rapidly applied.
140th and 269th NKVD Divisions were dismantled within the first hour, their weapons and equipment going into Polish stocks. More than one group of prisoners was mercilessly chopped down in retribution for NKVD atrocities, past and present.
64th NKVD Division managed to escape with three of its rifle and border regiments intact, the hapless 98th NKVD Border Regiment finding little forgiveness at the hands of their captors.
Thousands of Soviet prisoners filled the combat area, something that was less than desirable for all concerned.
However, plans had been made to evacuate these men in the vessels that delivered supplies, lessening the demands on the logistical chain.
The Second Polish Army [AWP] had been withdrawn under the direct orders of the GKO. It was heavily policed by NKVD units, and most units were either disarmed or, as was the case with 5th Polish Infantry Division [AWP], massacred piecemeal as the various units arrived at pre-ordained rendezvous points, staffed by security troops with a very specific brief.
At first, there had been issues with loyalty, as confused soldiers found it hard to understand who was who, and officers with leanings towards the Soviet regime held sway in most areas of Polish Second Army.
Matters were quickly sorted out, but not without some tragedies, and most of the Polish Second Army moved eastwards and away from the fighting, finding employment in the Ukraine, where civil disorder was rapidly turning into open civil warfare.
Only the 5th Polish Heavy Tank Regiment, 4th Polish Engineer Brigade, and 9th Polish Infantry Division defected en masse to the newly formed Polish Liberation Army Group, where there was understandable scepticism about their loyalty.
One issue that arose was unit numbering, as there were divisions that shared the same title allocated to different corps, hence the labelling AK with every ex-Soviet unit.
Soviet initial efforts had been aimed at destroying the bridgehead but quickly became a task of containment, as lack of resources swiftly became an issue.
The impending presence of the British Twenty-First Army Group caused most of the spare major units that could have been used for counter-attacks to be hived off for defence on the main front, leaving barely sufficient units in place to hold the landing in check.
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Soviet command quickly started to pull in more resources, hampered, as ever, by the enemy’s command of the air.
From the start, the Allied plan had been obvious.
1-Strike eastwards along the Baltic coast with 21st Army Group.
2-Drop paratroops to secure the bridges and crossing points to allow the new forces to move westwards from the bridgehead.
3-Connect the two, thus posing an unendurable threat to the flank of the entire European force.
4-Reinforce and support the existing Polish forces, creating a whole new and proficient manpower group to cause more problems for the Red Army.
Allied intelligence had failed to locate many of the dedicated assault formations assembled by 1st Baltic, and these had hammered into the British advance, halting it, moving it back, and then stabilising the front, ensuring that the bridgehead would not be relieved.
1st Guards Mechanised Rifle Division, under Deniken’s command, had moved and found itself isolated at Naugard, which in itself, upset Allied plans for British XXXIII Corps to attack through Stettin.
The second incarnation of 6th Army was moved swiftly to ensure that any attempt to advance through Swinoujscie, most probably by Polish IX Corps, would die in its infancy.
And so it proved.
The Polish bridgehead became an attritional stalemate, with the occupants too weak to push out, and those surrounding it too weak to crush the resistance.
Bortnovski, low on options, ordered one last effort to get his formations moving, ordering the thorn in his side to be removed by force.
The Naugard attack plan would be completed, regardless of the cost.
The bulk of British 2nd Armoured Division was kept back to exploit the breech.
An assault force of the Azul Division, part of the Guards Battlegroup, the 5th Polish Heavy Tank Regiment [AK], and a German Fallschirmjager battle group were designated for the assault. They would be supported by every artillery and mortar weapon the Polish General could lay his hands on, topped off with air support from the carriers off shore.
Bortnovski completed the planning with a flourish, having added a few smaller specialist units to the assault on Naugard.
Standing erect, he issued his verbal order, confirming the attack.
“Gentlemen, the assault will be preceded by an intense bombardment, commencing at 1230. This will cease at 1300, to be followed by an air attack on the entire Soviet front line position.”
The assembled officers knew this, but it was the Polish General’s way.
“The assault force will then move in at speed, obliquely, striking at the north of Naugard, with the main force moving around to the south-west and pushing the Soviet forces away from the main route, occupying Wollchow, securing it, before striking into the enemy rear.”
“Gentlemen, you have your orders. I wish you luck.”
The Polish Lieutenant General threw up a magnificent salute and watched as his officer trooped from the room.
Władysław Bortnowski had been a prisoner of the Germans since commanding the Polish Pomorze Army during the 1939 invasion of his country. He had been liberated in 1945.
As a very senior Polish officer, well-known amongst his soldiery and civilian population alike, Bortnowski probably had no equal, and it was this public image and his obvious skill at arms that propelled him into the position of Commander, PLAG.
A reputation gained in different times against the German Army of 1938 had been tested against a wholly different foe in 1946, and opinions differed on how well the fifty-five year old General was standing the test of time.
1236 hrs, Monday, 1st April 1946, HQ, 7th Guards Tank Assault Brigade, Wollchow, Pomerania.
Yarishlov and Kriks shared a table, although not conventionally.
The former, having alerted his command to stand to, sought refuge under the large and robust piece of furniture to use the field telephone in safety, as the Allied artillery lashed down upon Soviet positions from Wollchow to Eberstein.
The latter was protecting two mugs of coffee, or coffee the way Kriks made it, with something extra that mustn’t be contaminated by descending dust.
He could hear Deniken’s voice quite clearly.
“No, Arkady, the 23rd report little activity, neither do the 333rd Regiment to our south-west. Seems this is all for us.”
Yarishlov digested the information.
“So, what do you want me to do, as it seems likely we’re going to get hit?”
“Stay put for now. My own tanks are covering here. Perhaps ready a company to send off immediately to support the defences here, if I scream for more. Meantime, keep your head down and stay safe. I’m sure the Capitalist bastards will give us something to think about soon.”
“Just one company?”
“Two would be better, of course.”
“It is done.”
“If their ground attack... stupid... when their aircraft come, the AA commander has prepared that surprise we discussed. I think we may show them a thing or two, Arkady.”
Both chuckled.
“I suspect you’re correct, Vladimir.”
The Allied ground attack aircraft had been ruling for too long, and today, when they came, they would face a challenge.
“Signing off now. Good luck, Comrade.”
“And to you, Comrade.”
Yarishlov took the coffee from Kriks, and the two sat in silence to consume the drink.
The tank Colonel spoke to his Senior NCO as he would speak to a friend.
“If someone walks in right now and finds us hiding under a table drinking coffee, we’ll have to do some fast talking, Praporschik Kriks!”
An artillery burst gave the NCO a moment to respond.
“I don’t envy you, Comrade Polkovnik. I am a lowly soldier, just following orders, whereas you’re a Hero of the Soviet Union with a reputation to maintain. Best of luck with that.”
He clinked jugs and downed the last of his brew.
“I should have you arrested for insubordination, Praporschik.”
Kriks grinned.
“Oh, the stories I could tell. The Chekists would be delighted to confirm their veracity with you, Comrade Polkovnik.”
Yarishlov spluttered in his mug.
“I’m away to man my vehicle whilst you organise my detention and interrogation.”
With an exaggerated salute, Kriks quit the room, leaving the door wide open.
Yarishlov grinned like a Cheshire cat.
“Bastard NCOs.”
He picked up the receiver to make another call, only to find it devoid of sound.
The artillery had cut the line.
With nothing else to do, Yarishlov ordered the line repaired, left the small headquarters, and made his way to his T-54 command tank.
1259 hrs, Monday, 1st April 1946, Naugard, Pomerania.
The previous battles in and around Naugard had been modest affairs, and few of the 7th Guards Tank Assault Brigade’s tanks had been involved, the 1st’s integral 121st Guards Tank Battalion having been sufficient to see off any enemy armour.
Yarishlov and Deniken had been particularly keen to keep the 7th Guards uncommitted and, more importantly, unappreciated for what it was.
Whilst the presence of the new tank was known, the numbers were probably not, and that was a factor in both Soviet Colonel’s thinking.
Four had been totally lost, two to accidental internal fires, and one each to enemy ground action against tanks, and to air strike. Seventeen more were mechanically unsound and had been withdrawn to the workshop facility in the woods between Wollchow and Wismar, where the mechanics worked feverishly to get the valuable tanks back into the line.
Losses and breakdowns left the 7th with forty-three intact T-54 battle tanks.
Yarishlov’s SPAT company had been sent to bolster Deniken’s positions in Naugard, and three of the monster ISU-122’s had already succumbed to enemy fire.
Fig# 172 - Naugard - Soviet defensive force.
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nbsp; The Allied artillery gently melted away to nothing, leaving a surreal quiet over the Red Army positions, occasionally interrupted by a secondary explosion or a scream of pain.
Two minutes later, Barracudas from 814 and 837 Squadrons FAA, configured as dive-bombers, arrived to do their part and swooped down from the sky, dropping their bombs on targets identified by the photo recon interpreters; a possible strongpoint here, a likely anti-tank position there.
Fortunately for them, the Soviet AA commander had configured his defence for the normal low-level runs of Typhoons and the like, but the Soviet flak still brought down one Barracuda II and sent a couple more home trailing smoke.
Whilst the Fleet Air Arm attack planes did their bit, top cover was provided by 802 Squadron FAA, their Seafire L/III’s easily repulsing a sally by a handful of Yak-3’s, losing only one Seafire downed to four Yaks confirmed.
Once the Barracudas had safely left the area, 802’s commander responded to the pleas of his pilots and permitted a single sweep over the target.
As predicted by the Soviet AA commander, the Seafires commenced their run as had others before, sweeping in from west to east and using the road from Schwarzow to Naugard as a guide.
802’s first combat loss to enemy aircraft was quickly followed by its first combat loss to ground fire.
The combination of 12.7mm, 25mm, and 37mm fire tore the Squadron Commander’s aircraft apart around him, the Seafire splitting open and coming apart in dramatic fashion, leaving the Lieutenant Commander to ride the cockpit and engine into the woods that concealed Yarishlov’s tankers.
The next two aircraft were smashed in short order, one flipping over and burying itself in the soft ground next to a road junction, the other pulling upwards in an attempt to evade the deadly fire as the cone of fire slowly enveloped the cockpit until only the wingtips and tail could be seen outside the flaming orange-yellow mass that was bringing a horrible death to the British pilot.
