Tiger Command!

by Bob Carruthers

  Voss’s plan was necessarily a simple one and, initially at least, all appeared to proceed smoothly. By the evening of the 5th of July, the most advanced elements of the Vorausabteilung had reached the vicinity of the bridge and had concealed themselves in readiness for the assault. The force chosen by Voss for this important assignment consisted principally of an army bicycle company and a platoon of Waffen SS assault engineers. An SS cavalry battalion awaited nearby, ready to add its mobility to the coming battle. This detachment was to assemble and, supported by the battery of assault guns, take possession of the bridge and keep the crossing open for the main attack group.

  As soon as the bridge was secure, the main Angriffsgruppe would come rushing up from its jump-off point, five kilometres to the rear. The main Angriffsgruppe was to follow the advanced detachment and push on through, towards Chersoniev. A defensive force, the Verteidigungabteilung, was tasked with guarding the bridge. It consisted of one platoon of light infantry howitzers, one anti-tank platoon, and a company of infantry.

  Plans for the support of the advance by strong artillery, emplaced as close to the front as possible, had been put into readiness for action. From its bridgehead positions, the battery of assault guns attached to the Vorausabteilung advanced detachment was to cover the dash to the bridge and assist in its seizure and the subsequent advance beyond.

  It has often been said that the best laid plans do not survive the first five minutes of contact, but Voss had good reason to curse as things began to go wrong, even before contact. The reinforced bicycle company and the assault engineers had arrived at the jump-off point only to find that the battery of assault guns which had been ordered to the bridge had not yet arrived. The incomplete Vorausabteilung waited as precious hours of pre-dawn darkness vanished.

  “Where the hell are they?” barked Voss at his radio operator.

  “No report as yet, sir!” The operator knew it was a rhetorical question and continued with his quest to make sense out of what was becoming a confused situation. The time was not entirely wasted.

  “Sir, the forward reconnaissance elements report that a weak enemy force with machine guns is holding the southern end of the bridge. However, at the far end, the Ivans are well dug in with concrete emplacements. The assault guns will certainly be needed.”

  This report triggered a frantic series of calls to find the location of the Sturmgeschütz. Finally, a report came back.

  “It appears the commander took the wrong route... he estimates a four hour delay.”

  “Damn these children!” bellowed Voss. “Well, it’s his funeral. The attack will have to commence in full daylight...”

  Eventually, the Sturmgeschütz arrived, and amends were made as they effectively threw their weight into the attack. With their help, the Vorausabteilung succeeded in throwing the enemy back and seizing the bridge. The concrete emplacements at the far end of the bridge were no match for the high-explosive rounds blasted into the firing slots from murderously short range, although reports were coming in of a few isolated individual Russian soldiers who continued to fight stubbornly from the woods beyond the bridge. It was clear that the main enemy force had withdrawn to the east, and they continued to harass the rapidly advancing Vorausabteilung from that direction by means of rifle and machine-gun fire.

  Meanwhile, Voss now learned that the Angriffsgruppe, too, had been somewhat delayed by skirmishes with enemy snipers and isolated groups of partisans on this side of the river, and would be late in arriving. In order that the attack of the main body should not be held up because of this delay, Voss desperately ordered the main body to force march the remaining two kilometres, before the bridge could be reoccupied by stronger enemy units.

  As he waited and seethed in frustration, the first prisoners arrived. Under interrogation from Voss himself, the disorientated and terrified prisoners stated that the Ivans were not intending to mount an immediate recapture of the bridge. Their statements were at first regarded as incorrect, especially in view of the general estimate of the situation. However, a short time later, an air observation report came in that enemy motorised forces were indeed retreating, and this appeared to confirm the prisoners’ statements.

  Voss now decided to go forward himself, and quickly ascertained that enemy artillery, which he reckoned to be one medium battery, was shelling the road south of the bridge as far as the regimental command post. Voss took heart from the fact that the sound of battle indicated that the enemy was not resisting stubbornly.

  In order to force the attack forward, Voss rushed to the bridge to rendezvous with the fast-approaching main Angriffsgruppe. He wanted to ensure that they immediately surged on to engage the enemy. He received a new and disconcerting report that signal flares, indicating enemy tanks, were now going up from the wooded area on the other side of the bridge.

  The situation appeared to have changed. Were the Ivans about to reverse their plan? A further unconfirmed report arrived – what appeared to be an enemy tank concentration had been spotted in the woods to the south, and was now being engaged by the artillery.

  At the same time that all of this was going on, messages began arriving from the advanced detachment saying that fire from enemy artillery, tank guns, heavy mortars, and infantry howitzers, in addition to well-aimed rifle fire, was preventing any forward movement. Some elements had got as far as the woods beyond the river; there, however, they had been stopped by enemy machine-gun fire. Consequently, though the assault guns were on the far bank, no infantry or engineers were firmly emplaced as yet. Voss therefore ordered the available artillery to switch targets and engage the enemy on the north bank.

  As Voss waited and seethed, the situation became increasingly confused. The enemy artillery fire increased; it was estimated at forty heavy, eighty medium, and ninety light pieces. Furthermore, it was reported that the enemy was installed in field fortifications in the woods beyond the far bank, and that numerous light tanks were engaging the attacking force. The most advanced German infantry was involved in stubborn close combat with the enemy in foxholes and small trenches.

  No report that the Vorausabteilung had succeeded in moving forward was forthcoming.

  “Where the hell are those reports?” bellowed Voss. “What’s happening over there?”

  The only good news was a subsequent report which confirmed that the assault guns had got across the river, expended their ammunition, returned to resupply, and then crossed again with more ammunition. It could not change the general picture that a continuation of the attack did not appear to promise success under the methods employed so far. Moreover, it was ascertained that the main Angriffsgruppe had lost much time in its advance by deploying across open terrain and that it was still lagging behind; early assistance from this battalion was not to be expected for another hour.

  As random runners appeared at the half-track command post, the situation became less and less clear. Voss therefore had no option but to issue oral and fragmentary orders to hold the main attack, as the heavy artillery was needed elsewhere and there was no longer the guarantee of the strongest possible artillery support.

  Towards 11:30 am the situation took a new turn. Voss was heartened to learn that the aggressive élan of the attacking elements was able to accomplish what had not been considered possible in view of the estimated enemy situation. By exploiting the bold forward thrust of the returned assault guns, elements of the infantry and parts of the engineers had succeeded in forming an advanced bridgehead, thereby clearing the way for a sweeping manoeuvre by the cavalry, and paving the way for a general attack across the bridge by the main attack group. If reinforcements could come up soon, the whole attack was likely to be successful.

  Finally, the Angriffsgruppe arrived at the bridge. Voss immediately collared the liaison officer with the attack group.

  “The situation is fluid; there has been a change in the situation since the issuance of the order for a hold on the main attack. It now appears possible for the forward movement to gai
n sufficient momentum for a successful advance. I have countermanded my order. You must attack now and push on towards your objective.”

  “Jawohl, Sturmbannführer!” barked the liaison officer, and the column roared off. Without further ado, the Angriffsgruppe swept over the bridge and into the attack. It was now imperative to prevent the attack from stalling; this was the moment to press forward with all available strength.

  A considerable element of danger was recognised by Voss in the fact that, during the sweeping continuation of the assault, the attacking force might run into its own artillery fire. However, efforts to shift the fire to a box barrage succeeded in time and, falling directly in front of the panzers, it greatly facilitated the attack. The liaison officers with the attacking units were ordered and rushed forward with the new and final order to dispense with any preparation for a coordinated attack and to press on with the attack now in progress.

  Frustrated by the lack of a complete picture, Voss took a decision to move his command post to the far bank. The Gefechtsstandfahrzeug roared over the bridge. Voss observed that there were one or two dead Russians lying in every foxhole. Now and then, shots were still being fired by some individual Russians who had obviously simulated death, but Voss was satisfied that the mopping-up operation was already underway.

  In the far distance, it was obvious that only a few Russian light tanks were still resisting. They were disabled by the assault guns, and some of them were abandoned by their crews. The Ivans had apparently been forced to give up any intention of defending, both by the fierce attack and by the effective artillery fire. The enemy had been caught in the ferocity of the attack by the main Angriffsgruppe.

  While a few enemy riflemen and heavy weapons, supported by tanks, were holding out until the last, everything else appeared to be in full flight. Enemy riflemen, approximately two companies in strength, were observed to the northwest in scattered retreat. This was apparently the enemy’s infantry reserve. The encouraging signs were that the enemy artillery left some single guns behind in their emplacements. The rest withdrew to the northeast and, caught in the pursuit fire of the medium artillery, were soon abandoned by the enemy.

  Voss, flushed with the thrill of success, pushed on beyond the bridge in an effort to keep up with the changing situation. As he breasted the hill, he ordered his command half-track to halt under the spreading branches of a tall oak tree. From the back of the Gefechtsstandfahrzeug, he anxiously scanned the advancing panzers. Initially, all appeared to be going well. The tanks advanced in the textbook manner, arranged in the standard breitkeil, or “broad wedge”, when suddenly a series of violent explosions rippled through the lead tanks.

  The radio burst into life. “Anti-tank gun screen!”

  More and more panzers rolled to a halt. In next to no time, Voss could count twelve flaming wrecks. The attack lost momentum, and his concern rose as they began to reverse. As if from nowhere, there came the whoosh of an incoming round. Voss was knocked off his feet by the blast. As he stumbled up, his dazed brain came back to life, and his eyes focused on a terrifying sight.

  Arranged between him and the bridge was a force of around 100 Soviet tanks. Before his eyes, the thin screen of German defenders and anti-tank guns screening the bridge was rolled up. He looked back in horror as another wave of Soviet armour emerged from the north. They were led by T-26 light tanks, each spouting thin bursts of flame.

  He was trapped. Voss could see his infantry force fading away under the assault of the flame-throwing tanks. Burning grenadiers, reduced to human candles by the Soviet terror weapon, dotted the battlefield. He was merely a spectator as his panzers were picked off, one by one, by a large force of T-34 tanks which appeared to come from nowhere.

  For a brief moment, Voss and his adjutant mentally prepared to fight to the death, but the simple truth was that the situation was so obviously hopeless that the will to commit suicide evaporated. As a KV-1 with the stencilled outline of a White Devil hurtled towards them and pulled up beside the Gefechtsstandfahrzeug, Voss and his small command group left the vehicle and raised their hands in surrender.

  The commander of the Russian tank climbed out and stepped down. As his feet hit the ground, he was joined by four T-34 tanks, each bearing a full complement of desyanti. The tank riders, too, dismounted, and formed a circle around the five German prisoners, binding their hands behind their backs.

  “SS-Sturmbannführer Helmut Voss, if I am not very much mistaken...” began the Soviet tank commander in perfect accentless German.

  “That is correct,” replied Voss, offering the absolute minimum of information, but apprehensive as to why it was necessary to tie their hands behind their backs. “I demand that my men are properly treated.”

  “Don’t worry, they will be...” said the tank commander, removing his cap and wiping the sweat from his brow. His thick black eyebrows contrasted with the bushy shock of pure white hair.

  “Stenner!” gasped Voss.

  Voss said no more as the Soviet commander flashed a dagger across his throat, severing his vocal chords and his windpipe. On Korsak’s signal, a member of the tank crew stepped forward with five rope nooses and began to loop them over the bough of the oak tree. With no ceremony, the cords were fastened around the necks of the German prisoners. One by one, the prisoners were strung up and left to die like dogs.

  From the ranks of the curious Soviet spectators, an official photographer was on hand to record the gruesome sight. Korsak made sure that he took a good shot which featured the KV-1 with its White Devil motif prominently displayed in the foreground and the dangling bodies behind. Justice was being visited on the fascist beasts and Korsak was anxious to make sure Moscow knew that the Weisse Teufel had been at work.

  The news of the ignominious death of SS-Sturmbannführer Voss struck home hard, but there was nothing that could be done at Paderborn. Until the new tank was combat ready, von Schroif and his crew had little option but to work hard and push the machine through its paces in readiness for what was projected to be a combat debut in 1943.

  Throughout July, the testing programme continued. Other tanks emerged from the factory and other crews appeared to take charge and begin the complex task of learning how to maintain and operate the Tiger. As the nights slowly became longer, the senses sharper, the bonds tighter, von Schroif estimated that by April 1943 the Tiger would be ready to be tested in combat. It was frustrating to have to wait so long, but the machine was still a prototype.

  In the meantime, it was certainly good to be back in Germany, away from the hell that was the Eastern Front, but Hans von Schroif never forgot for one moment that he was going to return there. Despite the moments of levity, this was no holiday, it was a mission. A mission to keen the eye, the hand, and the mind, to become one – yes, one! – with the awesome capabilities and technology of this fantastic new marvel, bestowed on them by the genius of German engineering. It was their job to become one with the machine...

  Hans smiled when he thought of it this way... it sounded like a marriage! A marriage in which the bride was so powerful that, like a queen bee, she could call on five suitors, each of which would pledge themselves. Married to a tank! In a way, there was some truth to this.

  “Truth be told,” Hans thought to himself with a smile, “she may be more faithful!”

  However, he still had reservations: the blind spot, the turret speed, the preparations. At Paderborn, the preparations were not too difficult, but how would they be in the heat of battle? How would she perform in the mud, or in the freezing ice and snow of winter, or in the dusty furnace of summer? What would happen if the supply chain got disrupted and spares started to run out? What about the terrain and the distances?

  “Yes, we’ve seen the tables for armour protection, but that was only theory. How would she respond in reality to being hit by Ivan’s shells?”

  This led Hans on to a new line of thinking. Perhaps it was time to leave the warm bosom of Paderborn, and request that the tank and cre
w go east for further trials, trials which more ruthlessly exposed both man and machine to the extreme conditions of war on the Eastern Front. This, he believed, would provide a real test as to whether or not the Tiger was truly ready.

  Before he could mention this to Major Rondorf, it was Rondorf who approached him.

  “Well, von Schroif, I am afraid you have to leave this little idyll and head back to the front.”

  “Strange, I was just going to talk to you about that. I agree, our time here should be over, but I was going to suggest further testing and training in conditions that more closely resemble the front.”

  “I feel that your crew know their way around the Tiger now, but I am afraid further testing is out of the question,” said Rondorf.

  “But she is still very much a prototype. I have written various reports...” replied von Schroif.

  “Yes, the blind spot, turret speed, drive chain... Unfortunately, there is nothing I can do. These are manufacturing decisions. There will be factory modifications, but, for now, you must content yourself with what you have.”

  “With great respect, I believe it to be premature to put this tank into action.”

  “That may or may not be the case, Hauptsturmführer, but the order came from the Führer... or from someone close to him.”

  “Don’t tell me... It’s Borgmann again, isn’t it? It’s almost as if he wants to throw this opportunity away. If one of these falls into Soviet hands, everything is compromised.” At which point von Schroif suddenly clammed up. He realised that he had crossed the line. There was no point in continuing his line of reasoning. “When?”

  “Tomorrow,” replied Rondorf.

  “How?”

  “Pick up five new machines from the factory at Kassel tomorrow, then entrain for the front. The Führer wants to see the Tiger in action.”