Russia at war

by Alexander C Werth

  As we have seen, the Germans had overrun the whole of the Crimea in October 1941—

  with the exception of Sebastopol. The siege of the great naval base began on October 30, and the first attempt by the German 11th Army under von Manstein to break through to Sebastopol, defended on land by a semi-circle of three more or less well-fortified fines, lasted from October 30 to November 21. A very important part in repelling this first great German onslaught was played by the guns of the Black Sea Navy, and by the naval

  marines fighting on land; these, like the men of the Baltic Fleet at Leningrad, were among the toughest Russian troops. The most famous case of suicidal resistance by the Russians during that first German attack was that of the five Black Sea sailors, with politruk (political instructor) Filchenkov at their head who, having run out of ammunition, threw themselves with their last remaining hand-grenades under the

  advancing German tanks, and so prevented a break-through to Sebastopol from the northeast. This heroic deed of the "five sailors of Sebastopol" was to become the subject of many songs and poems, among them a very beautiful song by Victor Belyi.

  Although the Germans and Rumanians already had a great superiority in manpower, as

  well as vast superiority in aircraft and tanks, Sebastopol was protected on land by good natural defences, and the navy, with its powerful guns, was of considerable help. In November 1941 the Russians had over 50,000 combat troops in Sebastopol, including

  21,000 marines. The Germans and Rumanians, according to Russian sources, had at least twice as many.

  The first German attack, which continued for three weeks, barely dented the first of the three defence lines here and there, the only important German gain being the capture of the Balaclava Hills, east of Balaclava—which itself remained in Russian hands. Rather more successful was the second German-Rumanian attack between December 17 and 31,

  when the enemy pushed the Russians back to a line about five miles to the north of

  Sebastopol, and also made minor advances due east of the city; but this also came to a halt on December 31, partly as a result of the successful Russian landing on the Kerch peninsula, which as we have seen diverted many German troops from Sebastopol. The

  most famous Russian exploit during that second German offensive against Sebastopol

  was that of a handful of Black Sea sailors who, for three days, defended Firing Point No.

  11 in a village called Kamyshly till they were all dead or dying. When the firing point was recaptured by the Russians, they found a note written by one of the men:

  Russia, my country, my native land! Dear Comrade Stalin! I, a Black Sea sailor, and a son of Lenin's Komsomol, fought as my heart told me to fight. I slew the beasts as long as my heart beat in my breast. Now I am dying, but I know we shall win.

  Sailors of the Black Sea Navy! Fight harder still, kill the mad Fascist dogs! I have been faithful to my soldier's oath.—Kalyuzhnyi.

  [In all post-Stalin books, including the official History, mentioning this episode, the words "dear Comrade Stalin" are replaced by dots, or omitted altogether.]

  A remarkable story of how Sebastopol lived through the nine months of the siege was

  told after the war by B. A. Borisov who was Secretary of the Sebastopol Party committee and Chairman of the city's Defence Committee for the whole period. He tells of the

  Sebastopol airmen, such as Yakov Ivanov, who rammed enemy planes usually at the cost of their own lives; of the way in which practically the entire population of Sebastopol had to be moved into shelters, cellars and, especially, caves during the first two German offensives, so fierce and continuous was the bombing of the city; of the vast cave near the Northern Bay in which a giant workshop— ("Spetskombinat No. 1") was set up—where the people manufactured mortars, mines and hand-grenades, and another,

  ("Spetskombinat No. 2"), near Inkerman, where clothing and footwear were made on a large scale in underground cellars previously used for storing Crimean champagne. He tells of the underground schools that were organised for the children in Sebastopol itself, of the numerous reinforcements that came to Sebastopol by sea, first after the fall of Odessa, and later, from the Caucasus. Most pathetic of all perhaps was the extraordinary elation and optimism that swept Sebastopol in January and February, after the failure of the second German offensive against the city, and after the successful Russian landing at Kerch. It was then thought that if both Kerch and Sebastopol held, the whole Crimea

  would soon be liberated. People moved out of their shelters and caves back into their battered houses, and the young people made a special effort to repair as many houses as possible. Even tram-cars began to run along the streets of Sebastopol, though the

  Germans were only five miles to the north. On May Day, which was almost exactly six

  months after the siege had begun, there were numerous meetings and celebrations,

  despite several air-raids and German shelling.

  But that day our troops were preparing to help our troops on the Kerch peninsula; for these were expected to start their offensive at any moment. Both at Sebastopol and at the front everybody was talking about the Crimea being liberated and the

  siege of Sebastopol lifted. Everybody was in an exalted holiday mood.

  [ B. Borisov. Sevastopoltsy ne sdayutsya (Men of Sebastopol Do Not Surrender).

  (Simferopol, 1961), p. 130.]

  Then came the tragic news of the loss of Kerch, and Sebastopol now had to prepare for the worst. A somewhat disorderly evacuation of children and old people was started. The sea communications with the mainland had already become highly precarious. Half the

  Komsomols in Sebastopol (among them many girls) volunteered for the Army, and the

  others remained in the city to work double shifts, in the Sebastopol armaments works.

  Once more people had to be moved from their houses back to shelters and caves.

  And now the last ordeal began. About May 20 it was learned from reconnaissance, and

  from messages received from the partisans in the Crimean mountains, that vast numbers of German troops were converging on Sebastopol. On June 2 the Germans began to bomb

  Sebastopol with hundreds of planes, and every day hundreds of heavy shells would

  explode in the city. In six days the Germans dropped 50,000 high-explosive and

  incendiary bombs on Sebastopol, besides thousands of shells; the destruction was terrible, and the casualties very high. The Germans were using a giant siege gun called Dora,

  which had originally been built to smash the heaviest fortifications of the Maginot Line.

  Then, on June 7, the final German-Rumanian offensive against Sebastopol was launched.

  Because of great German air superiority, the Russian airfields around Sebastopol were now almost completely out of action, and sea communications between Sebastopol and

  the Caucasus had virtually been cut by the Luftwaffe. Such small quantities of food, arms, raw materials and petrol as still reached Sebastopol from the mainland were now usually brought by submarines or small craft. Submarines were also used for evacuating the wounded. It is obvious that they could take very few and that most of the wounded remained in the blazing inferno of Sebastopol. The local "armaments industry" could no longer cope with the urgent needs of the troops, and the constant bombing and shelling made the distribution of food and water to the crowded caves and other shelters almost impossible.

  After three weeks' very heavy fighting, which then continued for a couple of days in the streets of Sebastopol, the Germans occupied what was left of the city. In the July heat, the stench from the countless unburied bodies was such that the last defenders fought

  wearing their gasmasks. Meantime, an evacuation of sorts was attempted from Cape

  Chersonese, some eight miles west of Sebastopol. Here, at night, one plane was able to land, and take away a few of the wounded; also a submarine picked up Admiral

  Oktiabrsky, General Petrov, General
Krylov and other top-ranking Army and Party

  personnel.

  In the course of his narrative Borisov draws some remarkable portraits of the leading male and female members of the Sebastopol Komsomol—all of them young people of

  infinite patriotism, endurance and devotion to duty—who were either killed in the

  fighting round Sebastopol, or were killed or taken prisoner after the Germans had entered the city. He dwells, in particular, on the tragic fate of two leading Komsomol members, a man and a woman—Sasha Bagrii and Nadya Krayevaya. Like so many others, they had

  waited in vain at Cape Chersonese for either a plane or a ship; one plane did land in the middle of the night, but could only take away a few wounded and a few "seniors". When dawn came, the shelling of the airfield was resumed, and no more planes could be

  expected. Nor could any ships reach Chersonese. Noticing a large accumulation of

  soldiers and civilians near Cape Chersonese, the Germans started shelling them.

  Bagrii and Nadya then joined one of the rearguard units... Taking rifles and

  cartridges from dead sailors, they tried with the others to break through to the

  Crimean hills to join the partisans. But in the shelling half the brave people were killed... A second attempt to break through was no more successful, and as the

  Germans started their final attack, the shots from the Russians became fewer and

  fewer... Most of the survivors now counter-attacked with nothing but their bayonets.

  Nadya was killed. The last that was heard of Sasha Bagrii was this: he was seen,

  scarcely able to move, in a column of prisoners. Then he was seen, half-dead and

  spitting blood first at Bakhchisarai and then at Simferopol. And here there were

  traitors who denounced him to the Germans. And the Germans did not forgive all

  that he had done for his country and for Sebastopol...

  [ Borisov, op. cit., p. 176.]

  I was to see Sebastopol in May 1944, after it had been recaptured by the Russians; I was then to hear many more harrowing stories of those last agonising days of Sebastopol in June and July 1942. All that was known in Moscow in July 1942 was that very few of the defenders of Sebastopol had got away. Twenty-six thousand Russian wounded were said

  to have fallen into German hands, besides an unspecified number of other soldiers. The Germans claimed to have captured 90,000.

  [This figure is not necessarily exaggerated. According to the postwar Soviet History, there were 106,000 Russian troops, including 82,000 combat troops, at Sevastopol, when the final German onslaught began, as against 203,000 German and Rumanian troops,

  including 175,000 combat troops. The vast German-Rumanian superiority in equipment

  was greater still, except in guns—

  German-

  Soviet

  Rumanian

  Guns of all

  780

  606

  kinds

  Tanks

  450

  38

  Aircraft

  600

  109

  ]

  In Moscow one thing had been clear: after the German victory at Kerch in May, the fate of Sebastopol was sealed; the only question was how long it would hold out. It held out longer than could reasonably have been expected, and this heroic defence was contrasted, not without some sarcasm, especially by Ehrenburg, with the "gutless" surrender of Tobruk only a week earlier.

  The news of the imminent fall of Sebastopol had been broken as gently as possible to the Russian people; but the Russian reader had learned to read between the lines. Each

  communiqué adjective was, as it were, a code word which meant something quite

  definite. Thus, "fierce fighting" (ozhestochennyie boi), "stubborn fighting" (upornyie boi) and "heavy fighting" (tyazhelyie boi) meant three different things; "heavy fighting" meant that things were going very badly; this phrase was more and more frequently used in the communiqués on Sebastopol during the last fortnight the city held. On June 25

  Sebastopol was "holding out against superior enemy forces"; on June 28, Pravda already spoke of the "immortal fame of Sebastopol"; on June 30, Ehrenburg wrote in Red Star—

  The Germans boasted: "We shall drink champagne on June 15 on the Grafsky

  Embankment"... Experts foretold: "It's a matter of three days, perhaps a week."

  We knew how many planes they had, and they knew how hard it was to defend a

  city with all its roads cut. But they forgot one thing: Sebastopol is not merely a city.

  It is the glory of Russia, the pride of the Soviet Union. We have seen the capitulation of towns, of celebrated fortresses, of States. But Sebastopol is not surrendering. Our soldiers do not play at war. They fight a life-and-death struggle. They do not say "I surrender" when they see two or three more enemy men on the chessboard.

  This was clearly a crack at Tobruk. However, the end of Sebastopol was now clearly in sight. On July 1 the communiqué said:

  Hundreds of enemy planes are dropping bombs on our front lines and on the city.

  They are making more than 1,000 sorties a day. Every defender of Sebastopol is

  endeavouring to kill as many Germans as possible.

  And, on July 3, the communiqué said that, after a siege of 250 days, the Soviet troops had abandoned Sebastopol on the order of the High Command.

  Three days later Admiral Oktiabrsky who had escaped from Sebastopol by submarine

  with other top military leaders, published in Pravda a detailed account of the battle of Sebastopol, turning a military defeat into a great moral victory. He gave some

  unbelievably high figures of the German and Rumanian losses (300,000 killed and

  wounded) during the 250 days' siege, but avoided all reference to the number of Russians left behind, including the 26,000 wounded left in the ruined town or on the beaches—

  without a ship to take them away...

  The men and women of Sebastopol had rendered a great service to the rest of the Russian forces by tying down von Manstein's 11th Army for so long and preventing it from

  operating on the "main" front.

  Chapter IV THE RENEWAL OF THE GERMAN ADVANCE

  Though Sebastopol did not finally fall until the beginning of July, its fate was already sealed at the time of the meeting of the Supreme Soviet on June 18 to ratify the Anglo-Soviet Alliance. There had, too, been the disasters at Kerch and Kharkov in May. And yet on June 21 the Army paper Red Star wrote:

  The German Army is still stubborn in defence. But it has been deprived of that

  offensive drive it had before... But though the enemy is still strong, one thing is clear. There cannot be a German offensive like last summer's. The question facing Germany now is not to conquer the Soviet Union, but to hang on, to last out

  somehow. Not that it will stick to defensive warfare throughout... But its offensive operations cannot go beyond the framework of limited objectives.

  Equally surprising, in the light of the real situation, was the publication by

  Sovinformbureau on June 22 of A Review of The First Year of the War giving the following figures for casualties in support of the statement that the Red Army had shaken the German war machine so badly that the ground had been prepared for the smashing of the German Army in 1942:

  Germany

  USSR

  Killed, wounded and prisoners

  10,000,000 4,500,000

  about

  Guns lost over

  30,500

  22,000

  Tanks lost over

  24,000

  15,000

  Planes lost over

  20,000

  9,000

  These figures for German casualties were, to say the least, improbable and have not been reproduced in post-war Soviet histories. At the time even the most credulous readers took them with a large pinch of salt. Much more plausible are the figures given in General Haider's diary for Ge
rman casualties (excluding the sick):

  Up to 15.2.42— 946,000

  Up to 10.5.42—1,183,000

  Up to 20.5.42—1,215,000

  Up to 10.6.42—1,268,000

  Up to 30.6.42—1,332,000

  Up to 10.7.42—1,362,000

  Up to 20.7.42—1,391,000

  Up to 31.7.42—1,428,000

  Up to 10.8.42—1,472,000

  Up to 20.8.42—1,528,000

  Up to 31.8.42—1,589,000

  Up to 10.9.42—1,637,000

  This means that, by the end of the winter campaign, the Germans had suffered nearly a million casualties; then, after a relative lull, between February and May (which had, however, still cost them some 200,000 casualties), the Germans had half-a-million

  casualties between the beginning of the May operations and the beginning of the Stalingrad Battle. So even the pre-Stalingrad phase of the 1942 campaign was very far from having been a walkover for the Germans.

  The figure in the Russian Report of June 22 for Soviet casualties is less fantastic, and is if anything an under-estimate. And though the German losses in heavy equipment are

  grossly exaggerated, the Russian losses, curiously enough, may also have been exaggerated, considering the great shortage of planes and tanks from which the Russian armies had suffered almost from the outset, and the very slow rate at which these were being produced, especially between October 1941 and March 1942.

  The stupendous losses of equipment given in the table may have been calculated to

  impress upon Soviet industry the gigantic size of reinforcements and replacements

  required from it, and upon the Western Allies the wholly inadequate help they had been sending up till then.

  Naturally [the Sovinformbureau statement went on] on a front as long as this the

  German High Command can concentrate here and there a sufficient number of

  forces... in order to achieve certain successes. That is what happened, on the Kerch peninsula... But such local successes cannot decide the outcome of the war. The