Disaster at Stalingrad
Peter G. Tsouras
It is early September 1942 and the German commander of the Sixth Army, General Paulus, assisted by the Fourth Panzer Army, is poised to advance on the Russian city of Stalingrad. His primary mission was to take the city, crushing this crucial centre of communication and manufacturing, and to secure the valuable oil fields in the Caucasus. What happens next is well known to any student of modern history: a brutal war of attrition, characterised by fierce hand-to-hand combat, that lasted for nearly two years, and the eventual victory by a resolute Soviet Red Army. A ravaged German Army was pushed into full retreat. This was the first defeat of Hitler’s territorial ambitions in Europe and a critical turning point of WWII. But the outcome could have been very different, as Peter Tsouras demonstrates in this fascinating alternate history of this fateful battle.
By introducing minor — and realistic — adjustments, Tsouras presents a scenario in which the course of the battle runs quite differently, which in turn throws up disturbing possibilities regarding the outcome of the whole war.
Peter Tsouras
DISASTER AT STALINGRAD
An Alternate History
For my friend Thomas Bilbao, without whose enthusiasm, good will, and original thinking this book could never have been written, and to whose incisive insights on the Second World War I am deeply indebted.
FOREWORD
A Matter of Mastery
I have all but given up reading alternative history. Too many works in the genre are implausible, historically superficial, emotionally naive, uninformed as to technical expertise and, not least, written in so slovenly a manner that any remaining faith one has in our education systems, whether in the United States or the United Kingdom, collapses like a pup tent in a hurricane. The waste of paper (or electrons, for that matter) in the production of plainly bad books is sufficiently dismaying to turn an oil-company executive into a tree-hugging environmentalist.
But there is one brilliant exception to the sorry state of alternative history: the works of Peter G. Tsouras. His re-imaginings of history always delight, consistently inform, boldly challenge and wonderfully reward discriminating readers (a dying breed, alas…). Why are this old soldier’s narratives so much richer — and so much more fun to read — than the efforts of his would-be peers? To formulate a useful answer, turn to the ‘Five Pillars of Alternative History’, the fundamental requirements for such a book to be worth the cost in money, time and intellectual engagement.
Let’s take these one by one:
A compelling, convincing vision. If an alternative-history narrative does not grip us with logic — the recognition that this could have happened — the entire structure falls flat. It’s not enough to tell a story the author thinks is ‘really cool’, while ignoring or remaining ignorant of the complex web of facts that render his or her version impossible. (I have never had any patience with what I call the ‘spaceships-at-Pearl-Harbor’ school of alternative history.) We have to be captured by the recognition that, yes, but for a few matters of happenstance, the author’s vision might have come to pass, changing history.
This is one regard in which Peter G. Tsouras excels. Whether writing about the American Civil War or the Second World War, his plots are built on taut logic and a vision so convincingly grounded that the reader’s response is, ‘Yes, yes! Absolutely!’
The point of quality alternative history isn’t to push the envelope into the realm of the absurd, but to delve into the precision machinery of history and make small adjustments to the gears that produce major, inevitably different outputs. Indeed, the worst judgement a reader can pass on a work of alternative history is to reach a point in the book at which he or she slams it shut and declares, ‘Naw, that never could have happened.’
So… a crucial quality in this author’s works (and I have read every one of them, avidly) is baseline believability. The logic of the plots is always finely tooled; nor does Tsouras leave loose ends. His vision is always as comprehensive as it is precise in detail. The book you are about to read is a perfect example of the richness of this accomplished author’s grounded-in-fact imagination. Taking his alternative road to Stalingrad, I was, as an old Russia hand, utterly convinced.
Historical and technical knowledge. Two aspects of this author’s background give him an enormous advantage over other practitioners in the genre. He is a sophisticated historian with a wide range of period interests (I can’t help but hope that this proud Greek-American will, one day, write an alternative version of the Trojan War and its after-effects); and he has had a long, successful career as a US Army officer, as well as concurrent responsibilities from the tactical to the strategic level of our intelligence system. He knows what happened, down to the ‘sub-atomic’ details, but his insider experience also lets him grasp why things happened and how slight alterations in events or personal relations might have led to very different outcomes. He knows what soldiers can do and won’t do; and he knows not only what political leaders are supposed to do, but what they actually end up doing. He’s the kind of in-depth historian and experienced soldier who fully understands that, after all of the order-of-battle tables are tallied, the weather and terrain have been analyzed, and the various options studied, a decisive battle may be lost because a key commander had indigestion.
This particular book could not have been written by someone who did not understand historical realities as diverse as the Allied supply route through Iran; ship tonnages on the Murmansk run; Wehrmacht equipment refurbishment policies; the personalities of Soviet and German generals; or opposing sniper techniques. One pleasant surprise for me, by the way, was how thoroughly this soldier understands the environment of mid-twentieth-century naval warfare — his depictions of fleet actions are simply terrific.
Grasp of character. The film may have been fun, but, no, Abraham Lincoln didn’t have the temperament or martial-arts skills to be a Hollywood vampire hunter. Alternative history doesn’t work if the author doesn’t understand the actual personalities of the figures he enlivens on the page — or human complexity in general. One routine problem with alternative-history novels is that they are populated by stick figures, not flesh-and-blood men and women with credible desires, fears, faults and idiosyncrasies. Hitler and Stalin are classic examples. These two men, grotesque and cruel as they may have been, were also human beings with biological imperatives and emotional needs (however twisted). In too many novels or films, Hitler simply rants and Stalin icily orders executions, popping up in plots as cartoons of themselves. In contrast, Tsouras understands that the decisions such men make and the actions they take must be grounded in their actual psychology and mundane circumstances. Of course, the same law applies to less exalted characters, as well.
In developing an alternative-history scenario, an author is free to imagine the behaviour and inner life of a character, as long as his or her projections are based upon the known facts about that individual (this applies to ‘straight’ historical fiction, as well). When Tsouras re-imagines history, the great names come to life — and make credible decisions based on the different developments confronting them. In his plots there are not only no factual loose ends, but no emotional ones, either. That reflects a detailed study of the historical figures, but also a life of careful observation of his fellow human beings.
Writing ability. Different forms of writing demand different prose techniques. In alternative histories, the focus should be on events and characters presented in transparent prose that never calls attention to itself. The writing should be so clean and clear that it disappears, leaving only the author’s vision. But clean, clear writing is very hard. There is always the temptation to turn a clever phrase, or
to add another adjective or adverb, or (a common sin) to laundry-list facts that, while showing off the author’s research, bore the reader to blood-tears and push him or her out of the plot. Tsouras has been writing professionally for decades, and the practice shows. Even when he addresses infernally complex situations or arcane technical details, the writing is a spotless window that lures the reader to look deeper inside. Tsouras’s prose isn’t glamorous or extravagant or, for that matter, snappy. It’s disciplined and appropriate.
Storytelling ability. Writing ability and storytelling ability are often confused with one another, but, while related, they involve separate talents and skill-sets. In my own writing career, I’ve encountered many a would-be novelist who, because they wrote competent non-fiction, assumed that they could easily write fiction. But writing a military report, or a business proposal, or journalism or a historical treatise does not automatically equip a writer for the vastly more demanding matter of creating life on the page and making the reader constantly repeat the timeless question, ‘What happens next?’ The non-fiction writer reports or makes a pitch. He or she may analyze, criticize, proselytize, pontificate or predict, but the effort is always about providing information (true or willfully distorted) to a reader for a practical purpose. The novelist/storyteller, by contrast, is a literary Dr Frankenstein, struggling bravely to create not only a living being, but an entire living world. He or she chooses, from an infinite number of possibilities, the unique combination of body parts that will spring to life for the reader. The non-fiction writer declares, ‘It’s a fact.’ The novelist cries ‘It’s alive!’
I realize that my point here runs counter to what many well-educated adults imagine, but, having written a wide variety of non-fiction and fiction over more than three decades, I can attest that writing competent (if not artful) non-fiction can be taught to most intelligent people, but creating fiction requires innate talent (that has to be developed with patience and resolve). Prose writing involves a skill-set that can be acquired through hard work; storytelling is refined magic. Tsouras has both the professional writing skills and the gift of narrative magic that let him deliver addictive, rewarding alternative-history treasures. Stir in his deep historical and technical knowledge, his human understanding, and his wonderfully quirky, thoroughly convincing vision of what might have been, and the reader with this volume in hand is in for a rare treat: a book of the first quality, and a hell of a reimagining of the hell that was Stalingrad.
Ralph Peters
(Author of Endless War and Cain at Gettysburg)
INTRODUCTION
‘The Dancing Floor of War’
There is no doubt that Stalingrad was the decisive battle in the war against Germany. Up to Stalingrad, the flood tide of German victories seemed unstoppable. After Stalingrad it was a remorseless ebb tide for the Wehrmacht that only ended in the ruins of Berlin and a bullet in the brain of Adolf Hitler.
Upon what did this turning point in history pivot? Soviet propaganda emphasized the resolve of the Russian fighting man, Stalin’s decisive ‘not one step back’ order, and the immense output of Soviet war industries heroically relocated to the Urals. All of this was true, but it was not the whole story. What is missing in that is the keystone in the arch of victory.
That keystone was logistics. It is that which feeds, clothes, equips and sustains the fighting man. It begins in the wheat fields, mines and steel mills, continues to factories that produce uniforms, tanks and shells, and its end is when the cook dumps a meal into a mess tin, or a quartermaster issues a new rifle, ammunition or uniform. Disrupt any part of this process, and you disrupt the ability of the armies to fight. Frederick the Great’s dictum ‘Without supplies, no army is brave’ was as true in 1942 as when the Prussian king said it two centuries before.
It is little known that, as the German 1942 summer campaign roared to life, the logistics lifeline of the Red Army, Soviet war industries and the population in general was badly frayed and near to snapping. Most of Soviet war industry had either been lost to the Germans or had been evacuated to the Urals where it was being reassembled. In a miracle of improvisation, many of these factories were put back into operation in a very short time, but it still was not enough. Vital materials such as aluminium and copper were in short supply, the aluminium necessary for tank and aircraft engines, and the copper for myriad uses, especially brass for cartridges and shells. The Soviet Union by then had also lost its richest agricultural lands and a huge part of its population. What remained was reduced to a diet that teetered between constant hunger and malnutrition. Soviet prewar stocks of motor vehicles, especially trucks, had been reduced by more than half, and new production was meagre.
Given these disabilities, how did the Red Army humble Hitler’s ambitions at Stalingrad? What was their margin of victory? Though subsequent Soviet historians were loath to admit it, that margin was the massive aid provided by Great Britain and the United States. Edward R. Stettinius, the man responsible for coordinating the provision of war supplies to America’s allies, stated, ‘Enough supplies did get to Russia… to be of real value in the summer fighting of 1942.’1 The US Army Center for Military History was clear that ‘In committing munitions and equipment to the titanic defence of Stalingrad, the USSR knew that material losses could be mitigated in ever mounting quantities by future lend-lease receipts.’2 Even a major participant in the battle and future leader of the Soviet Union, Nikita S. Khrushchev stated, ‘if we had to cope with Germany one to one we would not have been able to cope because we lost so much of our industry’.3 This author was told by a senior Russian military historian at a July 1992 seminar on the Second World War at the Russian Military History Institute that foreign aid, even in November 1941, exceeded Soviet production, so much damage had the Germans already inflicted by then.
At that time, most aid received by the Soviets was from Britain, provided at great cost to the British war effort and the British people who went short in innumerable ways to support their allies. American aid had just begun and was in the form of raw materials. It was to grow exponentially until, by the time of Stalingrad, American trucks and jeeps, canned food, and dried eggs and milk were ubiquitous to the average Red Army man, one of whom commented that it was only because of Lend-Lease that the troops were able to get more than one meal a day. British and American tanks and planes were making up about 15 per cent of the total Soviet inventories, a not inconsiderable margin. More importantly and out of the sight of the soldier, the factories were relying on Canadian and American aluminium to build four out of every ten tank and aircraft engines. In effect, foreign aid made it possible for the Soviets to complete 40 per cent of these weapon systems. Essentially, for every thousand tanks or planes the Soviets produced by the time of Stalingrad, 150 were made in Britain or the United States, and another 340 were built with Canadian and American aluminium. Without that aid, the Soviets would only have been able to deliver 510 tanks or planes per the thousand they actually did. Supporting this are Stalin’s repeated requests for priority materials, with aluminium and concentrated foods such as meat and fats at the top of the lists.
None of this denigrates the bravery or heroism of the Red Army soldier or the sacrifice of the civilian population. It does emphasize, however, that bravery and heroism are far more effective with a tank and a full belly than without them.
Thus this alternative history will take that path not taken, the one of sacks of wheat, tons of aluminium, great convoys stuffed with trucks, explosives, tanks, and thousands of the other countless elements of war that made their way from the fields and factories of Great Britain, Canada and the United States across oceans, mountains and deserts to reach the Soviet Union. Then will the drama of battle be played out.
The weight of woes was not all on the Soviet side of the scale. German resources were inadequate for the campaign that eventually unfolded. Hitler’s stated objectives for the 1942 summer offensive were to destroy the bulk of the remaining Soviet field armies east o
f the Don and to overrun the Caucasus and Transcaucasus regions of the Soviet Union to acquire the economic resources Germany lacked, primarily oil. These objectives were to be undertaken consecutively. However, when Hitler decided to accomplish them concurrently, he badly overstretched German resources in all categories, condemning his armies to be neither strong enough in the attack on Stalingrad nor in the lunge into the Caucasus.
Hitler further compounded these errors by becoming obsessed with taking the city of Stalingrad and condemned his 6th Army to be burned out in what was essentially Verdun on the Volga. Ironically the original planning did not emphasize any importance attached to the city itself other than as a location towards which 6th Army would be directed. The city fighting devoured men the way German mobile operations did not. The Germans called it the ‘Rats’ War’, Der Rattenkrieg, so vicious and remorseless it was. Homer, perhaps the most profound observer of men in war, captured the imagery and essence of that battle in lines written some 3,000 years before.
Both armies battled it out along the river banks —
They raked each other with hurtling bronze-tipped spears.
And Strife and Havoc plunged in the fight, and violent Death —
Now seizing a man alive with fresh wounds, now one unhurt,
Now hauling a dead man through the slaughter by the heels,
The cloak on her back stained red with human blood.
So they clashed and fought like living, breathing men
Grappling each other’s corpses, dragging off the dead.4
Hitler again compounded the problems burdening his forces by his chronic inability to accumulate a reserve without immediately expending it. So, as 6th Army screamed for reinforcements, there were no available operational reserves on the Eastern Front. At the same time the Soviets were accumulating huge reserves. Herein is an insight into the nature of German and Soviet command. Hitler’s growing insistence that he make all important decisions, which rapidly devolved into reserving his permission to move even single divisions, hobbled his outstanding stable of generals. As Hitler curtailed the initiative allowed his generals, Stalin increased the command scope of his own team of talented officers. He also showed a much more balanced and shrewd strategic grasp, and listened to and often followed the advice of his leading commanders.
Disaster at Stalingrad Page 1
