Nigel Cawthorne
Page 3
In the depths of the forest, the enemy had established several lines of defence. The Russians are masters in the construction of shell-proof wooden field fortifications. About 3km southeast of Yazvy the attack of the division bogged down.
So the German spearhead swung to the northeast and, after bitter fighting, broke through.
Now the snow began to melt with a vengeance. The water in the woods was knee-deep … But the weather brought one advantage: the enemy evacuated the woods south of the Yazvy–Ramushevo highway, and withdrew to the high ground of Ramushevo. On the west bank of the Lovat he held only one small bridgehead adjacent to the village. Thereby the threat to the southern flank of the attacking forces had, at least temporarily, been removed. Now the infantryman could protect himself against the water. The forest provided sufficient cover to permit the hasty construction of simple wooden shelters. In the meantime, reconnaissance was conducted for the continuation of the attack. After all, our encircled comrades were waiting to be freed. Every man knew what was at stake.
Lucky indeed was he who found a large bomb crater. Most Russian swamps are the result of an impermeable layer of clay, usually only shallow. Large bomb craters were frequently deep enough to penetrate the clay. As a rule, they did not fill up with water and, as long as they were not located within large inundated areas, their edges were often the only patches of dry ground. There infantrymen sat, there and on islands either provided by nature or man-made from tree trunks. The ground below the water was still frozen. Wide, shallow streams ran through every field and forest. The flood waters had washed out every bridge. Heavily travelled roads were covered with a 1m layer of mud.
Ramushevo on the River Lovat was now the objective, but the thaw presented another problem:
The fields of the peasants are located to the west of the town. Through them runs a stream which had, at this time, swollen to a 400m-wide river. The northern part of the river had solid, steep banks, indicating deep water at that point … With the disappearance of the snow, the artillery had finally regained its normal effectiveness. After the most painstaking reconnaissance, the attack on the bridgehead got underway on 15 April. It succeeded with surprising ease, although the bridgehead, too, was protected by the overflowing stream. Despite the arrival of numerous enemy replacements, the Russian troops were no less exhausted than our men.
Since the distance to the northern edge of the village was only about 300m, the obvious next move would have been to attack Ramushevo from the captured enemy bridgehead. No attempt, however, was made as the banks of the stream were steep and high, and the water was bound to reach above a man’s head … At this time patrols had to wade though snow water, which was knee-deep south of the highway …
On 20 April, German forces assembled for the attack on Ramushevo … The enemy had not counted on a German attack through the flooded area … The men had to wade through more than waist-deep snow water. Soon after, other German units penetrated the village from the west and, by 22 April, Ramushevo had been completely cleared of the enemy. The Lovat had been reached. From the east, a combat team of the units encircled at Demyansk launched its own attack in the direction of Ramushevo and on 22 April reached the river. The first boat crossed the Lovat and the first telephone cable was laid. Contact with the encircled units had been established. As yet, the link was only slender, in places no wider than 1km. Nevertheless, supplies soon began to roll through. Unfortunately Demyansk was not evacuated at once. Instead, our troops finally pulled out almost a year later … The fighting in the so-called land-corridor resulted in serious German losses, because the Russians launched one major attack after the other. Almost every month, and sometimes twice a month, it appeared as though a new encirclement was unavoidable, and it is indeed a miracle that the German units fighting around Demyansk did not suffer the fate of those at Stalingrad. Had Demyansk been evacuated in the spring of 1942, the men that would have been saved could have bolstered German forces at Stalingrad enough to avoid that catastrophe.
DUGOUT LIFE
Dr Lothar Rendulic spent nearly three years on the Russian front and later wrote a report on the hardships encountered there:
In the later fall, when the dugouts in the front line had to be heated, the freshly felled wood produced a large volume of smoke which during daytime drew enemy fire on the dugouts. As charcoal was known to generate hardly any smoke, the troops set out to make that type of fuel for use during the day. They established behind the front lines a number of small kilns, which soon produced the required amount of charcoal. [However] the production of charcoal was taken up at a rather late date, after a good many casualties had been suffered …
In the German Army, a supply of stoves for dugouts in winter positions had not been provided for from the onset. Thus the troops resorted to fashioning stoves from bricks or stones, or to the use of empty gasoline barrels and cans. Stovepipes were always the major problem as they could not be made without sheet metal. Brick chimneys take up too much room in the cramped dugouts, and require a good many bricks. Moreover, brick chimneys cannot be used for every type of stove. Thus, whenever sheet metal could be obtained, it was used for making stovepipes. To a limited extent, we procured that material from the ruins of houses and factories in larger localities, where the roofs frequently consisted of sheet metal.
In central Russia the temperature regularly dropped to –35°C (–31°F) and sometimes to –46°C (–51°F). Dr Rendulic recommended the use of the ‘Finnish igloo’ for shelter, yet:
I went through the first two Russian winters without having witnessed the use of snow huts, except in very rare instances, not even in 1941–42 when my division went through the entire winter campaign in the centre of events.
… It was possible to requisition some furs and felt boots from the natives for a small fraction of the troops. Winter clothing was also removed from the enemy dead. But it was not until the spring of 1942, furs, warm underwear, gloves and ear protectors arrived from home, and these too sufficed to supply only a small part of the troops … If a man had a reserve of underwear, he wore two lots. The divisions and army issued the entire supply of underwear they had on hand. Finally, each man succeeded in providing himself with more protection for his head and ears by using pieces of cloth and waistbands. The most difficult problem, for which there was no solution, was that of footwear. Consequently, there were frozen limbs.
‘The people of Russia and the east in general are greatly plagued by vermin,’ Dr Rendulic wrote. Apart from countless mice that gnawed their way into the wooden food boxes, there were other problems:
Bedbugs, which can be found not so much on the human body as in houses, are unpleasant, but as carriers of diseases they are harmless. The flea which was present in large numbers during World War I seems to be dying out. It was encountered very rarely. But the louse is dangerous. It nests on the human body, in personal effects and also in dwellings … The louse is a carrier of typhus, the most dangerous disease of the east. Persons over fifty years of age hardly ever survive it, but the death rate among the young is also high. At that time vaccines could be produced only by a very complicated and expensive process. Since November 1941 only nurses and attendants in typhus hospitals, doctors, people in important positions and those over fifty years of age could be vaccinated … The troops used a delousing powder; it was sprinkled on the body and underwear. But the results were not too promising.
Quarters were frequently cramped to such an extent that on several occasions even I had to share the same room as four officers of my immediate staff and the orderlies … Living in crowded quarters and positions furthered the rapid increase of lice … our troops were constantly lice-ridden.
Drinking water had to be boiled, on pain of punishment, to prevent typhoid. But soldiers who had suffered from respiratory diseases and rheumatism seemed to be miraculously cured.
Cases of dysentery occurred in a few instances, although inoculation against it was begun only in the middle of 1942. The diseas
e had spread among the troops very seriously during the Polish campaign of 1939. At that time, the cause was undoubtedly the eating of spoiled or unripe fruit. This danger did not exist in central or northern Russia.
Epidemics of jaundice and trench fever both occurred widely, but the cause had ‘not been clearly determined at that time’. Then there was malaria:
As protection against the swarms of mosquitoes, especially in the swamp regions, it is wise to provide the troops with mosquito nets and window screens for shelters, also as a protection against the numerous flies.
The horses brought for transport also suffered from numerous diseases.
Mangy horses were isolated in special stables … In mild cases, the troops treated the horses locally by rubbing the infected parts with a tar preparation. Before this preparation was applied, the troops substituted kerosene, available locally and normally used for lighting purposes; although effective, it strongly affected skin … The most effective and quickest treatment consisted in placing the horse’s entire body – except for the head which was left sticking out in the air – into a gas chamber and exposing it to a gas which killed the mites. But the veterinary company had only one gas chamber; that was not enough … More than 1,000 of the 5,800 horses in my division, the 52nd Infantry Division, were mangy in the spring of 1942. This number decreased considerably during the summer, but mange could not be wiped out completely.
In the summer of 1942, we found that many horses in the Shisdra area (about 100 kilometres northwest of Orel) suffered from large festering boils that were caused by the bite of certain flies. This disease had been unknown until then … Horses withstood the severe winters well, even though for long periods they had no stables.
And the horses had insufficient fodder, Rendulic said. The severe conditions also affected the Wehrmacht’s weapons:
The extreme cold of the winter of 1941–42 showed to our surprise that the mechanism of rifles and machine-guns and to some extent even the breech-blocks of the artillery became absolutely rigid. It was necessary to apply heat to them carefully in order to make them fit for firing again … It became evident that the lubricants used (grease and oil) froze in the extreme cold and became as hard as stone … The troops immediately made various experiments and determined that kerosene was cold-resistant and suitable as a lubricant … The only drawback was that it had no lasting properties and had to be renewed frequently.
Motor vehicles suffered similarly:
Completely unaware of the fact that grease and oil had frozen and hardened like stone, we tried at the beginning to make the vehicles start by towing them. The result was that the motor was badly damaged, and the differential was ripped to pieces. It was necessary to thaw out the vehicles by carefully applying heat to them before moving. It took up to two hours …
From the very beginning Chrysantine [anti-freeze] was available which was mixed with the water for the radiator, preventing freezing in temperatures not below –25°C. In extreme cold the water had to be drained from the vehicle after driving and had to be brought into the quarters.
CALLED UP
The invasion of the Soviet Union had left the German Army stretched to its limits. There were occupation forces in Norway, Denmark, the Low Countries, France, the Balkans, Greece, Czechoslovakia, Poland and now the Baltic States, vast tracts of Belarus, the Ukraine and Russia itself. The Wehrmacht needed fresh troops, so the draft age was raised and, in September 1941, Herbert Winckelmann, who had avoided the war so far, was conscripted.
I had not been enthusiastic about going to war, but was determined to do my duty by defending my country. I had no ambition to become a general or a war hero.
He was sent to boot camp at Zuellish, a small town east of Berlin, and emerged as a member of the 4th Company of the 39th Infantry Regiment. After three months’ hard training, he expected to be sent to the Russian front with the rest of his company. However, at the last moment, he received an order to report to Sorau for training as an officer in the reserve. There, on 24 January 1942, he married his fiancée Elinor, ‘on the coldest day of that winter, with the thermometer dipping to –22°. After a further three months’ training, he was made an NCO. ‘Before I could receive the patent for commissioned officer, I had to prove myself on the battlefield.’ So he was posted to Artemovsk in the Ukraine.
It took almost five days by train … I could hardly comprehend that we had conquered so much land in just six months. Since the Ukraine is only a small part of Russia, I wondered how much further we would have to go before the Russians would surrender.
Winckelmann had been trained to ride motorcycles and drive heavy trucks, but he was in for a shock. His new squadron leader in the Ukraine, Rittmeister (Captain) Ahrbecker, said: ‘You will soon realize that what you learned back in Germany and the reality of the situation here are two very different things. Come, I will select a gentle horse for you and personally give you a crash course in horseback riding.’
With the first rain I learned how valuable horses were to us here. When I had arrived the sun had baked the black clay to a rock-hard surface, but after only a few hours of rain the entire countryside was one big mud puddle. Motorized vehicles were useless in this weather, bogging down to their axles.
His company had abandoned their trucks. Instead they used horse-drawn wagons captured from the Russians.
2
THE BATTLE OF THE ATLANTIC: FIGHTING ABOVE AND BELOW THE WAVES
The German surface fleet did not discharge itself very well in World War II. On 13 December 1939, the pocket battleship Admiral Graf Spee was cornered in the River Plate between Argentina and Uruguay by three British cruisers. In the ensuing battle the Graf Spee put into Montevideo for repairs. Forced to leave port four days later, the ship was scuttled just outside the harbour. In a note to the German ambassador in Buenos Aires where many of the crew were interned, its captain Hans Langsdorff explained:
After a long and inward struggle, I reached the grave decision to scuttle the Panzerschiff Graf Spee in order that she should not fall into the hands of the enemy. I am convinced that under the circumstances this decision was the only one I could make after I had taken my ship into the trap of Montevideo. With the ammunition remaining, any attempt to break out to open and deep water was bound to fail … I decided from the beginning to bear the consequences involved in this decision.
After writing to his wife and parents, Langsdorff wrapped himself in the ensign he had taken from his ship and put a pistol to his head. The first shot grazed the back of his head. A second, through the forehead, blew his brains out.
Then on 18 May 1941, Germany’s biggest battleship, the Bismarck, sailed, accompanied by heavy cruiser Prinz Eugen. They were attacked by the Royal Navy in the Denmark Strait. In the engagement HMS Hood went down, with the loss of 1,416 men. The Bismarck then escaped into the open sea. Thirty hours later, it was sighted by British aircraft in the Atlantic around 500km (300 miles) off the west coast of Ireland. A torpedo crippled its steering gear, and HMS King George V and HMS Rodney closed in for the kill. On board the stricken ship was Matrosengefreiter (Able Seaman) Georg Herzog:
The destroyer attacks subsided at about 0100 hours. I surmised that the enemy had lost contact with us. First, the Chief-of-Fleet addressed the crew between 0100–0200 hours. I did not hear his speech. My comrades told me the Chief-of-Fleet said: ‘We will fire until the last shell.’ I did hear the speech wherein he said: ‘A telegram with the following content was sent to the Führer: “We will fight until the last man. All is for you, my Führer.”’
I later heard by loudspeaker that the Führer had awarded the Knight’s Cross to the 1st Artillery Officer for sinking the battle cruiser Hood. It was also broadcast that every available U-boat has been put on high alert, and that 80 aircraft, two ocean tugs, and one tanker were proceeding with all haste. There was great joy among the crew, but the mood had been good all along. The ‘Bismarck’ hymn and other seamen’s ballads were sung.
I slept in
the deckhouse until approximately 0500 hours … Shortly afterwards, the alarm sounded. I saw that the ship had ceased to make headway as I emerged from my battle station. The ship was abeam to the sea and breakers crashed over the portside. The ship showed considerably more list.
All the 38cm turrets swung to port while I was still on deck. Then, I went to take cover. Enemy shells splashed 100m ahead of the ship. Then, our guns opened fire. I felt shocks in the ship that must have resulted from hits. I left the deckhouse with my comrades. I observed white smoke ascending from the funnel. The antennae were shot to pieces and I saw hits on the ship’s forward section. Splinters and ship parts were flying about. Several comrades tossed life rafts from the deckhouse to the upper deck. I assisted them with this. I then went to the upper deck, where the majority of the flak crew was. We sought protection behind turret ‘C’. Other comrades were standing in the gangway descending to the battery deck. There were already chunks of the superstructure lying on the poop. The funnel was torn open on the starboard side. The Oberbootsmann and two Obergefreiter were readying the rescue rafts and laid them on the upper deck. Comrades tossed inflatable boats over the side and jumped in after them. Along with several comrades, I tried to toss an inflatable boat overboard. But we did not succeed because a hit struck in our vicinity and splinters made the inflatable boat useless. I received a flesh wound in the calf of the left leg. We then sought shelter behind turret ‘D’. There was an inflatable boat behind turret ‘D’. We tossed the boat over the starboard side and jumped after it. I had luck on my side in immediately grabbing hold of the raft. Other comrades tried to swim to the raft. Only comrades Matrosengefreiten Manthey and Höntzsch made it to the raft. All our efforts to fish out even more comrades were unsuccessful …