by Gee, Colin
It was Speer that spoke up, and he candidly confirmed every rumour Eisenhower had heard to be true, detailing additional problems, as yet unsuspected by the Allied Commander. Polish troops, the least forgiving of the Allies, had ransacked a German holding barracks in San Bonifacio near Verona. The Polish troops were outnumbered and quickly resorted to firearms, the resulting fire fight leaving eighteen Poles and forty-nine Germans dead, with dozens more injured on both sides.
Throughout the German forces, a common problem had emerged. German officers had fought long and hard, bound by their oath to the person of the Führer, Adolf Hitler. The Council had immediately instigated a new oath to the state of Greater Germany. Soviet agents amongst the officers had caused great unrest on the matter, citing the unconstitutional nature of the Council that was enforcing the new oath.
In Jülich, the unrest had developed into violence, resulting in the deaths of seven officers. More violence had flared in Freiburg, where another five men were lost. Speer confirmed that GeneralOberst Guderian was engaged in a tour of the forming-up camps, and at each he openly retook the oath as an example, dealing with the concerns of officers head-on, and with great success.
Whilst it was good for Eisenhower to hear that the Council was doing its bit, the important question had not been answered. Not wishing to interrupt, he eased himself in his chair and went for another cigarette.
It was Dönitz who did the job for him. Leaning across to Speer, he tapped the folder in front of the former Minister of Munitions and spoke softly.
Speer conceded with a nod of the head and opened the folder, extracting a set of papers, which he offered up to Goldstein.
When the report was in Eisenhower’s hands, Speer read aloud in German, which Goldstein at first translated but a raised hand from Eisenhower stopped him, the General’s own copy of the document being typed in English.
Eisenhower scanned the list, conscious of Speer’s voice in the background, but distracted by the content before him.
Organised on 1944 lines, the forces presently assembled should have represented a lifeline to a hard pressed Eisenhower.
But.
‘Get a grip General! Snap out of it, and don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.’
Eisenhower cleared his mind and felt the better for it.
The full tank division was most welcome, as was the motorised infantry one. However, a further nine complete infantry formations was the eye-catching figure that leapt up at Ike, albeit that the units were spread from Holland down to Italy.
One of the formations was a complete 1945 formation, the 319th Infanterie Division, which had served for four years as the garrison for the Channel Islands.
Another of the divisions was heavily motorised with a tank element and represented a former Panzer-Grenadiere style division, now named the Europa Division. With the sole exception of that unit, the other German divisions carried the nomenclature of their former deployment.
Scanning down the list, it was obvious that some support elements were missing from one or two of the formations but, all in all, he was being given an Army of eleven divisions, plus change, all fit to go in harm’s way.
He reminded himself that these units were also comprised of good fighting troops, men already tested in battles such as those to come.
Turning the sheet over, projections of a second and third tranche of units over the coming months drew his attention, the figures seeming to offer up so much hope at a time of near despair.
With the return of prisoners of war from Canada and the States, numbers would be further boosted. Certainly, Ike mused, unit strengths could be maintained with reinforcements.
Another piece of the report suggested training with allied weapons and equipment in case of shortages as captured German stocks became denuded, although there was a reference to a report from Minister Speer to come.
Goldstein interrupted his flow of thought.
“And here is a list of the contribution that the German Air Force can make, once logistics are put in place.”
The second list was no less impressive than the first, containing some twenty separate units, ranging from fighters to reconnaissance.
Speer had deferred to Dönitz, who was speaking very methodically to ensure Goldstein got every word.
“Herr Donitz stresses that these German Air force units are not ready to contribute as yet, as even spares and facilities have yet to be organised, let alone IFF and signals protocols. In the light of the clear and urgent need for a qualified and competent man to direct Luftwaffe matters, the Council requests that you arrange for General der Flieger Koller to be released from British custody to facilitate the organisation and integration of these units.”
Eisenhower couldn’t speak for the British but doubted there would be a problem, given the likely benefits to the Allied cause, plus he seemed to recall that Koller was not on the list of those who were unacceptable.
“I will make urgent enquiries as soon as we have concluded our business here, gentlemen.”
Acknowledging the translation from Goldstein, Donitz plunged on.
“There are a number of U-Boats that can be made available, but we are unsure how they would be employed or if they would be necessary. Clearly, there is a large manpower pool of naval personnel who wish to contribute. The Council wishes to liaise with a senior officer of the Royal Navy to discuss what is to be done.”
Eisenhower ignored the unintended snub to the USN.
“I assume that will be your responsibility, Herr Dönitz?”
A positive response allowed him to rapidly continue.
“Tomorrow, Admiral Somerville will be attending this headquarters. I will ask that he liaises with you and arrange it for the two of you to have an office to discuss the matter if that is satisfactory?”
Ike understood the simple ‘thank you’ without need for Goldstein skills.
Anxious to resolve the burning issue, Eisenhower picked up the first report and scanned it again, failing to see the answer he needed.
“Gentlemen, this report doesn’t tell me when I can expect these units to be available for combat use.”
The Germans received the translation with barely concealed amusement, exchanging glances before Von Vietinghoff picked up the report and pointed at the top of the document, speaking directly at Goldstein and fingering each word he recited.
Dropping the document back onto the table, he added a few more words for the benefit of his council colleagues and sat back in his seat, looking directly at an expectant but confused Eisenhower.
The Major leant across and pointed the same words out to his General, words whose true meaning were simply lost in the translation of the document.
“Sir, it states here that ‘the forces available are’. What Herr Vietinghoff states is that these formations are available.......now.”
Ike could not help but feel a surge of electricity through his frame at that news, a charge of both positive and negative thought.
Before he could summon up the right response, Goldstein continued.
“Herr Vietinghoff offers himself as a staff officer here in order to plan the integration and use of the German divisions and to act as liaison between SHAEF and the German Army Commander.”
Eisenhower knew he had been railroaded, as the Army command was supposed to, by mutual agreement, belong to a SHAEF appointee, with a senior German Officer as Chief of Staff, but somehow it didn’t seem to matter at that moment.
“Guderian, I assume?”
Goldstein was cut off as he drew breath.
“Jawohl. GeneralOberst Guderian.”
Pursing his lips, Eisenhower placed his hands palms down on the table, weighing up the pros and cons, quickly understanding that acceptance was the only real possibility.
“Very well.”
Eisenhower stood and walked briskly around the table, extending his hand to each man in turn.
“Thank you, Gentlemen.”
Eisenhower was alone in the room; the counci
l, Goldstein, and the Tech NCO, all departed.
Speer had passed over his report, translated into English, with the original German version attached.
His forecast on German weapons production was extremely interesting, anticipating an Allied stand to preserve the Ruhr, and an Allied withdrawal in areas of Germany, necessitating the removal of some manufacturing plants to safer areas, such as were suggested in France.
Ike found this puzzling, and consumed two cigarettes as he pondered the facts. Speer had seemed surprised that so much ground was to be conceded, and yet had already prepared a proposal to evacuate much of the industry in south-west Germany.
The council had suggested that some of their forces commenced training on Allied weapons, and yet seemed to be suggesting that German industry could quickly start to manufacture replacements for losses incurred in the coming battles.
‘What am I missing here?’
After a number of calls to his senior commanders, Eisenhower was clear as to where he would commit the Northern European German units when they came on line. In truth, the commitment was blatantly obvious.
Inserting the Germans between McCreery’s 21st Army Group and Bradley’s 12th Army Group made sense, the more so as the Ruhr would offer a suitable area for the Germans to defend, and one that they would be well motivated to preserve.
That all pre-supposed that Bradley and McCreery could stifle the Soviet advances for long enough to get the Germans in position. Both had given an assurance that they would give ground slowly to buy time for the deployment, but that didn’t stop Ike being anxious and upping his cigarette consumption rate alarmingly.
He tried to convince himself that the imminent arrival of German divisions would have a positive effect on Bradley’s 12th, and make their defence in front of the Rhine more difficult for the Soviets to overcome.
The Italian based formations would free up some of Alexander’s divisions which would be sent north as soon as possible.
A visit that evening from Austrian leader Karl Renner, promising two and a half Bundesheer divisions was welcome, but did not ease the worry.
The darkness brought too little sleep, as Eisenhower debated and argued with himself into the night.
‘I am committed to using them.’
‘And why would you not? They are great soldiers.’
‘Because they are German, of course!’
‘And they fought the commies for four years.’
‘Look at the trouble there’s been already.’
‘Small stuff by provocateurs. Anyway, you need ‘em! The Allies need them, and will probably not prevail without them.’
Eisenhower woke, his breathing rapid, his body filled with the unease of a broken night.
He reached across for his cigarettes and drew in the pungent smoke, coughing lightly as his body overcame the nocturnal surprise.
“Goddamn it!”
When the enemy advances, withdraw; when he stops, harass; when he tires, strike; when he retreats, pursue.
Mao Zedong
Chapter 60 – THE SNIPERS
Monday, 13th August 1945, 1800 hrs, Tostedt, Germany.
Calmly, carefully, and quietly, as is the way of the sniper, the two soldiers crept into the chosen firing position.
Opposite it was the building that had caused all the problems to the battalion assault that earlier that morning.
Soviet dead lay strewn over the open ground in between. The rubble and craters that surrounded and filled the destroyed German town of Tostedt, all heavy with those freshly killed that day.
Allied soldiers from the 1st Canadian Infantry Division’s Carleton & York Regiment, stubborn soldiers in defence, filled the positions opposite, from where they had poured deadly fire into the attacking forces, beating them off with heavy casualties.
And then the rain had come, a downpour that masked the sniper teams now moving into their chosen positions, as well as washing away the puddles of bodily fluids freshly formed from the products of the day’s butchery.
Adjusting her sights to suit a range of four hundred metres, she risked a swift look through the hole in the side of the American truck, the position from where she intended to wreak her own sort of havoc.
Mortars shells, a mix of HE and smoke, were dropping on the Canadian positions, a small token from the commanding officer to help the sniper teams deploy.
Along with Yefreytor Lena Yurieva Panfilova’s team, 360th Rifle Division had been allocated five other special sniper groups, all of which were taking their positions, each with their own allocated fire sector to work once the new attack commenced.
Each team consisted of two snipers and two spotters, all of whom could change roles in an instant, as all were deadly marksmen and women in their own right.
Panfilova’s number two today was Yarit, a wizened old Siberian Eskimo, whose eyes seemed hardly to open no matter what the circumstances, but whose aim was as deadly as anyone in the unit.
Using whispers and sign language, Yarit sorted out the targets.
The other two in Panfilova’s team, Olga Maleeva and Sergey Erinov, had dropped off into a group of fallen trees on the other side of the road and were invisible to the team leader, despite the fact that she knew they were both there.
The specialist sniper sections of 11th Guards Army had little time to do their work before the next battalions were thrown forward. Priorities were the machine gunners, the deadly Vickers and Bren gunners, who were the main culprits responsible for the human detritus filling the space between the snipers and the Canadian infantry positions. The others, the highly effective Canadian artillery of 3rd Field Regiment, were beyond the reach of the sniper teams, but not the ground attack bomber regiment specially tasked with their destruction.
The seconds ticked away, each spotter concentrating on their watch, each sniper keeping their weapon on target, waiting, quietly, as the second hands brought closer the agreed moment of firing and the inevitable death of young Canadians that would accompany the volley.
Panfilova controlled her breathing, relaxed into her rifle, steadied by the crate against which she leant.
Starshy Serzhant Babr Yarit quietly counted away the last seconds.
The Mosin-Nagant rifle kicked, and Lena was rewarded by a red mist that appeared where once her target had crouched behind his Vickers machine-gun.
Switching to the second target, she was greeted with the surprised face of a young soldier, clearly inexperienced, head extended above cover whilst his older comrades had already disappeared from view.
The bullet took him just under the nose and carried through the eighteen year old’s brain before exiting at the base of his skull, expending its remaining energy burrowing into the wall beyond.
The other teams similarly brought down their targets, leaving the Canadian positions temporarily exposed.
Overhead, the return of the air force bomber regiment encouraged the ground troops, although the older soldiers noted many less aircraft than had flown to the attack some minutes beforehand.
A collective shout, the famous ‘Urrah’, went up from the lead assault battalion, and the Soviet infantry again rushed forward, this time accompanied by three SU-76 self-propelled guns, sent forward for close support.
Defending Canadian troops commenced firing but the rate of fire was low. Brave men tried to man Vickers and Bren guns, but were mainly struck down as the sniper sections continued their work.
The self-propelled guns also wrought destruction, accurately blotting out nests of resistance.
A movement at an unoccupied window drew Panfilova’s attention. She fired a shot at a vague shape and the shape fell forward into view. Rechambering her rifle, she noted with satisfaction the obvious rank markings of her latest success. This bullet had killed the Artillery Observation officer for the Canadian batteries supporting this sector, removing the effectiveness of their support, support that had already been eroded by a swift and savage working-over by the Shturmoviks.
&nbs
p; The Soviet infantry were already beyond the line of bodies that marked their furthest progress in the last attack, and few men had been struck down by comparison.
A handful of mortar shells burst amongst the attacking wave, enough to kill and maim a handful of men, but insufficient to halt the momentum of the charge.
With the absence of the Artillery Officer, slain by a sniper’s bullet, and the OP team, destroyed by an SU-76 shell, the Canadian infantry Captain had called upon anything he could get to listen on his own radio before yet another HE shell had ended his life.
A second wave of infantry threw themselves forward as two Mosquito Mk VI’s arrived, responding to direction from an RAF controller who had heard the desperate plea for help. One was already smoking, courtesy of a brush with Soviet interceptors.
The concentration of advancing Russian infantry drew their attention, and they attacked immediately. Each aircraft mounted four 20mm Hispano cannon in the nose, and these spewed shells into the second wave, ravaging the ranks and destroying men by the score.
Spotting two of the Soviet assault guns, the leader turned and bore down again, this time thumbing off his main strike weapons. All eight 60lb rockets leapt from their racks and bore down upon the Soviet armour.
He did not see his salvo obliterate both SU’s as his aircraft was knocked out of the sky by a ZSU-37 covering the attack. It’s 37mm automatic weapon severed the tail plane, and the Mosquito drove straight into the ground, killing its crew and more hapless Soviet infantry.
Panfilova grinned at her spotter, both for the destruction of the enemy aircraft and the obvious success of the Soviet attack.
Her good-humour turned to concern as she noticed Yarit was wide-eyed, looking down and up, alternating between the two views swiftly, a look of horror spreading over his face.
The remaining SU76 was moving as fast as it could, desperate to avoid the attentions of the surviving Mosquito.
It was heading straight at their place of concealment, its madly rotating tracks sending mud spraying in all directions as the driver hammered his vehicle.
