by Tom Zola
My dear Sepp!
I want to wish you a belated happy wedding anniversary because it most likely will be over before you get this package. Don’t worry; I didn’t forget your beloved chocolate!
And a few other things that you can probably use. We were very happy about your last letter and hope you’re healthy and will come back unharmed. I don’t laugh at you for praying to God again. That’s okay. You know that I’m not much of a believer but I would never judge you. It must be so hard to be in the war and in combat and to fear for your life every single day! It hurts me so much that you’re so far away and we can’t be together!
Unfortunately the war has become apparent more often here, too. The city frequently gets bombed, even in the daytime, and then we have to run to the basements. Many people have fled to their relatives in the country but unfortunately we’re not that lucky! Because your family and my family both live in the city! But still we’re getting by. Please don’t worry about us.
Gudrun is fine. She’s already taking her first steps and babbles all day long. I enclosed a picture of her. Oh, how much she misses her daddy! And I miss you even more! Every time there is a blast somewhere, she starts to scream. But what can I do? Oh Sepp, when will all of this finally be over? Please come home soon and take good care of yourself! There are two people here in Bremen who need you!
Love,
Elly
Southwest of Poltava, Soviet Union, May 26th, 1943
The Knight’s Cross with Oak Leaves dangled from Field Marshal Erich von Manstein’s collar; the Iron Cross 1st Class adorned his right chest next to the highest-ranking Rumanian military badge, the Order of Michael the Brave. Von Manstein, an old veteran of the Great War with broad face and short hair that he had combed from the right to left, pulled his spectacles out of their case and put them on his nose to study the situation map, which was spread out on his table. He was in his mobile command post, a train car on the outskirts of Kharkov. It was parked in a narrow forest strip, camouflaged by German soldiers who, dressed like farmers, drove cattle in the fields that surrounded the forest.
There also were Reich Chancellor von Witzleben and Field Marshal Hermann Hoth, whom von Manstein had appointed his chief of staff even though Hoth would rather have kept a command. But von Manstein wanted Hoth, someone who thought like him and didn’t have a high regard of humanists like Beck and his followers. Both – von Manstein as well as Hoth – were convinced that the war against the Soviet Union was a total war and had to be led like one. Both were also convinced that this war wasn’t just a war of soldiers against soldiers, but rather a war of nations against nations. Therefore, in their opinion, the civilian population shouldn’t be spared either. Both officers had carried out the Commissar Order under Hitler, which had been highly controversial among the officer corps, and neither of them had stopped the harsh actions against partisans, Jews, and other ethnic groups the Nazis thought unwelcome in the territory they had conquered – not because they had been afraid of Hitler, as many other officers had been, but out of conviction.
Yet now von Manstein faced the “new” Reichskanzler, that man with the narrow face and the balding head who appeared weak. In the presence of the Chancellor, whom von Manstein couldn’t size up, he was careful and kept his distance. At a minimum, von Witzleben went along with the whole of the Beck Doctrines – instructions on how to handle the civilian population in occupied areas and the so-called war criminals – that in von Manstein’s opinion didn’t really show much understanding for this conflict the German Reich was involved in. A lot had changed last year in the way POW’s were treated, too. Von Manstein wasn’t sure yet where all these changes were leading, but he realized with relief that so far they hadn’t restricted his military options.
“A shame,” von Witzleben mumbled. He looked at the enemy attack movements marked on the map and sighed.
“This is my first visit to the troops in the East – and our enemy starts his offensive right now.”
“Next time I’ll let the people in Moscow know about your schedule ahead of time,” von Manstein retorted dryly, which evoked a tired smile from the Reichskanzler. Then he nodded and again focused on the map that had made him sigh.
Von Manstein frowned. At least von Witzleben wasn’t a dreamer like Hitler had been. The chancellor clearly realized the difficult situation of the Wehrmacht despite its success at Kursk. Everything was still in the balance, and von Manstein was sure that the greatest possible success in this war could only be a tie. Back then – in 1941 – they had clearly underestimated the Russian capacities. They thought they would be able to hit and crack the Red Army in its moment of weakness, and destroy it right away. Yes, they had hit it in a moment of weakness, and for more than two years the Red Army had taken a beating. But now – in mid-1943 – it was still standing on both feet, suffering one blow after another, and it still wasn’t about to collapse. On the contrary: The enemy kept delivering more and more massive counter-attacks, and all high-ranking officers of the Wehrmacht were aware of one thing: The German Armed Forces were much worse at taking a beating than the Red Army was. While problems with supply had become a daily matter on the German side and they had to improvise in every area, the Russians kept spitting out tanks, soldiers, guns, and lately even airplanes, in increasingly huge masses. It was appalling. Von Manstein exhaled.
During Operation Citadel they had sent over one thousand nine hundred Russian tanks to hell while suffering a loss of three hundred and ten of their own. And while the German Army was licking its wounds now and was likely to need several more months for that, the Russians were again attacking it fearlessly.
In two concentrated attacks, they sent their forces up against Oryol and Kharkov and outnumbered the Germans five to one on both sections of the front line while further holding attacks worked on other German front line sections.
“Herr Feldmarschall,” von Witzleben began, “as you know, I’ve always given you free rein.”
He took a pause to think, which made von Manstein jumpy. What’s he up to?
But von Witzleben reassured the Commander-in-Chief East right away. “And I don’t intend to tell you what to do in the future, either. So you can see that I’m more agreeable than the Führer was.” He smiled gently. Von Manstein nodded. “Plus I have enough political issues that demand my full attention.” The chancellor seemed to be lost in thought for a moment.
“Sometimes I ask myself how Hitler did it all. All I’m doing is taking care of the political level – and that already takes up all my time,” he moaned.
“With amateurishness, Herr Reichskanzler,” von Manstein interjected.
Von Witzleben looked at him quizzically. Then he nodded, and finally he said, “Please inform me about how you’ll proceed and what your intentions are. And now I already have to say my goodbyes. I have other appointments lined up.” The chancellor glanced briefly at the clock over the door that led to the adjacent wagon.
“Certainly. Would you please take a look at the map?”
Then von Manstein started to outline his plan while Hoth stepped up, too, and bent over the map without taking an active part in the conversation.
“Two enemy army groups are pushing against our lines north and south of Izium.” While he explained the situation, von Manstein pointed at each spot on the map he was talking about. Now he tapped his finger on the medium-sized city of Izium in eastern Ukraine that was situated directly by the Donets, south of Kursk and Kharkov.
“At the same time five Red armies are trying to break through the Belgorod – Kharkov line.”
Von Manstein’s index finger traced the map – following the Donets – up north, first to Kharkov and then to Belgorod. “I hope you can see what masses the Russians step up with again. It can drive you crazy. We think we have dealt them a serious blow, and one minute later they come around the corner with even greater force.
“Farther up north, six armies are moving against the area around Oryol. That’s an incredi
ble contingent of manpower and materiel the Red Army’s lining up here.”
Von Manstein didn’t say that without a certain admiration. What wouldn’t he give to have options like these just once!
In the meantime the chancellor whistled through his teeth. He had known that the Russians had responded with a counter-attack, but he had obviously not been aware of the intensity of these combat actions. He frowned with concern.
“And finally the Russians are attempting to break through to Stalino in the south.” Von Manstein’s index finger pointed at the region between Izium and the Sea of Azov. “Here the enemy is applying the same tactics I already described. I think I don’t need to mention that I wasn’t thrilled with the plans for Operation Citadel from the start. It was obvious to me that – with the options currently available to us – an offensive may have meant biting off more than we could chew.”
Von Witzleben just shook his head while his eyes lingered on the map.
“Well, whatever. The enemy let us come, and now he’s hitting us with his backhand.” Again his admiration was obvious in von Manstein’s voice. Clearing his throat, he added, “As you know, our forces are limited, and what’s more, some of them are spent and exhausted by Operation Citadel. But nevertheless we’re not a toothless tiger! There are still heavily armored reserve formations near Kursk that I will use.”
“What about the Russian troops encircled in the Kursk pocket?” von Witzleben exclaimed.
“Oh, they’re done for. It’s just a matter of time before they’ll surrender, which is why weak defense forces on our side should suffice.”
The chancellor nodded with a serious expression on his face while von Manstein continued. “As a result of the operation, we now have several worn-out divisions that are hardly capable of the job of securing the front line. I don’t want numerous split-up formations and regiments defending only narrow sections of the front line. That’s bound to lead to coordination issues we can’t afford. Therefore I intend to do the following: First, I’ll use the reserves to guarantee the encirclement of the Russian armies in the Kursk salient and to secure all lines not exposed to any attacks by the enemy. Second, I’ll form two kampfgruppen out of the severely exhausted units near Kursk. Up north that’ll be Kampfgruppe Becker, led by Major General Becker. Outstanding man.”
Von Witzleben nodded and repeated, “Major General Becker.”
The chancellor seemed lost in thought again. Hoth nodded, too, and stared at the map with a serious expression on his face. Everyone in the room knew that it was a challenging situation.
“I’ll throw Becker’s combat formation against the enemy attackers in the Oryol area. I assume the Russians won’t expect an attack coming from Kursk. Hit them with your backhand, Herr Reichskanzler. That must be the order of the day!”
“I’m completely with you.”
“Kampfgruppe Sieckenius will tackle the South near Kharkov. We must prevent the enemy from advancing to the Dnieper River at all costs. In all other sectors we’ll just let the enemy come, and react in the form of counter-attacks.”
“Sounds good. Where, do you think, is the situation most critical?”
Von Manstein didn’t have to think twice. “In Oryol,” he exclaimed. “Oryol is our last foot in the door to Moscow. If Oryol falls, the enemy’s capital is out of danger – probably forever.”
“Well, then I’ll pull out the 15th Panzer Division from Italy and have it moved to the Oryol area.”
“Mhm,” said von Manstein, who wasn’t good in expressing delight. “The boys from Africa, eh?” Now he had to grin despite himself. “They’re always welcome here.”
Von Witzleben, on the other hand, stretched his back. The chancellor looked exhausted, and seemed to be distracted by a thousand other thoughts. Yet Field Marshal von Manstein was satisfied. These briefings always showed von Witzleben’s qualities as the official commander-in-chief of the Wehrmacht – qualities which Hitler had sorely lacked. The chancellor was a professional who didn’t have any ludicrous ideas about warfare, but instead listened to his officers’ down-to-earth advice. He also wasn’t like a little kid whose decisions about the same facts were one thing today and the opposite tomorrow, and who was seized by temper tantrums. No, von Witzleben was, with all due respect to Beck, a good – at least a better – leader than his predecessor.
He had, of course, pushed Operation Citadel through against the opposition of several officers, including von Manstein, but there had also been numerous supporters of the offensive. The success had proved the supporters right. Still, Kursk had cost the Wehrmacht many resources.
Hoth suddenly broke the silence. “How do things look in the West?”
“Don’t worry, gentlemen. We can sit back and concentrate on the East. We’ve got nothing to worry about from the Western Allies,” von Witzleben replied confidently. “The Brits are hiding on their island, and, except for the bombers, we have nothing to worry about from the Americans.”
“There are rumors that an invasion on the European mainland is imminent. Italy, Greece or even the Balkans. Maybe even Norway. Or France?”
Hoth sounded concerned – and von Manstein knew that his old comrade was worried indeed, as he was himself. He was always saying that an attack from the West would finish off the war. And he was right.
Von Witzleben chuckled. “My dear Herr Generalfeldmarschall, surely you don’t believe the grapevine, do you? Oh please! There won’t be an invasion on the mainland; it would be a suicide mission in every conceivable constellation. Believe me – the Allies haven’t forgotten Dieppe.”
Aftermath
The sunbeams of the still young morning shone through the small window in Taylor’s bedroom. The air was dense with cigarette smoke. It smelled of tobacco and sweat. Luise leaned against the bed frame; she was completely nude and only partly covered by the blanket. She enjoyed her cigarette and closed her eyes while smoke filled her lungs. Though the act of making love was already over, her nipples were still erect in pleasant excitement. Thomas’s hand gently stroked her belly and started to move downwards.
“You’re in such a good mood today, Luise.“
“Yep.” Grinning, she bit her lower lip. “That’s because you rocked my world.”
“No, that’s not it. You were already so … well, so cheerful this morning.”
“Sorry, but I can’t talk about it. It’s because of work, you know?”
His hand touched her vagina and she started to giggle.
“So you have your secrets, you mystery woman! You make it sound like you’re a spy.” Thomas laughed and penetrated her vagina with his finger.
Again Luise closed her eyes and uttered a long sigh.
“We’re ... mhhm ... obligated to ... mhhhm ... keep our mouths shut.” She moaned when Thomas found the right spot. “Oh my God, Aaron, again?” Of course that was a rhetorical question.
“Actually my boss ... mhhm ... wasn’t allowed to ... ohhhhhhh ... tell me anything, you know?”
“I see.”
“But he thought ... oh Aaron, ohhhh ... I already knew anyway, because of my dad.” Her body trembled.
“Come on, tell me, will you?”
“No!” She laughed and shoved Thomas on his side but then she paused and froze while her lips trembled and her body shuddered. Thomas was good.
“You’re so mean!” he complained. “You just wanted to tease me!”
“May ... yyy ...be.” She grinned while his finger explored the insides of her vagina, penetrating deeper.
“Oh well!” she suddenly moaned. “I can’t keep it to myself anyway!”
Raising his head, Thomas looked at her expectantly. Of course that didn’t mean that his finger stopped bringing her to climax.
“You see, the Nazi threat will soon be over ... ahhh ... It’s finally starting.”
Pleasant vibrations tore through her body.
“I see. Well, that sounds good.”
“Yeah, the Allies will ... ahhh ... land in Italy
next summer.”
Acknowledgement
EK-2 Publishing takes the chance to thank some people, without whom this translation never would have come into existence. First we would like to thank Johanna Ellsworth and Mary Jo Rabe for the great deal of effort they spent on this project – far more than could have been expected from a translation team, since this text is not a normal one, but a book that is full of difficult vocabulary even an average German without deep military understanding struggles with.
Then we also thank Peter Brendt for proofreading the novel paying special attention to military language and American English. Also I thank Richard Moncure, who did additional proofreading of the book for its 2nd edition.
Thank you, guys, you are great!!
Note from Tom Zola
Dear readers,
While the book itself was translated by a team of true English experts, I wrote this small note myself. Since English is not my mother tongue, this note contains some weird Germanized grammar and sentences for sure. I suggest you read it in a strong German accent. ??
I would like to take the chance to thank you for buying our book. The EK-2 Publishing Team put a lot of effort into the first entry in the PANZERS series, especially was the translation one hell of a job. As said, we are glad to have real English experts on board (at this point I would like to gratefully thank Johanna Ellsworth, Mary Jo Rabe and Peter Brendt once more for their marvelous efforts and commitment!!!) Even for professional translators it is one heck of a task to transcript a text that is full of technical terms and detailed military descriptions.
On the one hand you have ranks, German trivia and other national or regional specialties. Should we translate German nicknames like Stuka for the Junkers Ju 87 or should we leave it in its German form in the text? Almost from line to line we struggled with this very question and had to find a new answer to it each time.
