Rhinelander (Kirov Series Book 40)

by Schettler, John

  This time, if things continued to slip, the forces from either side would not be coming to divide and conquer Poland, but to get at each other’s throats in the opening hours and days of a war that might finally eclipse the one Berg had briefly visited, becoming the final conflagration that might end humanity’s reign on the earth.

  “Out of the frying pan at last,” said Berg to his staff officers, “but we all know how the rest of that goes. Gentlemen, we are in a very awkward situation here, to say the least. Our arrival at Dresden is going to start turning heads and popping eyes the moment this old German train pulls into the rail yard. We are missing comrades in arms, short 15 heavy Panzers, and much other equipment, not to mention the expenditure of over 60% of our ammunition. Any trained officer here taking one look at our remaining vehicles will immediately see we have been in combat. How to explain it? Surely we cannot utter a single word of the insane truth we have all just lived through. So I ask you to say nothing.”

  “Nothing sir?”

  “Correct. If questioned, every enlisted man is to refer the matter to his unit officer, and they in turn will pass the hot potato right up the line, Leutnant to Oberleutnant, to Hauptmann, and so on. It all comes to me in the end, and you are to simply say that you are under orders to say nothing and that Brigadegeneral Berg will deal with the matter. Understood?”

  “Will you tell them what happened sir?”

  “Of course not! Who would believe such a thing? But I have a good deal to answer for. Our original train is long gone, and I learned it was destroyed by the Jabos back in 1944. We’re lucky we got away with this one, but it will certainly raise eyebrows. Rolling stock like this hasn’t been in use for decades.”

  “What can you tell them, General?”

  “God only knows. Perhaps I can say there was a switching error, and the train was inadvertently routed onto an old spur line. Perhaps I can say there was a derailment. That might account for the damaged or missing vehicles, and that I scrounged up these old train cars at a nearby depot. It is something that would be investigated promptly, so it buys us no more than a brief respite. They will send a team to any place I indicate as the site of the accident, and of course find nothing there, so then the questions will redouble. Yet I can think of nothing else to do at the moment. The truth can never be uttered, so this thin bodyguard of lies will have to do. I will tell them we cleaned up, used the brigade engineering equipment to get things back on track, and then received these orders to re-route. That bucket won’t hold much water, but it will have to do. I have little doubt that a senior officer will then be sent to Dresden, or that I may be ordered to Berlin. Then I will simply refuse to answer, respectfully, and let silence make an end of things for me. If pressed, you must all do the same. Convey this order to every soldier in the brigade. We say nothing.”

  Berg would not have to fret about the dilemma for very long, for the other half of the maxim he uttered a moment earlier would soon overtake them all, and there would simply be no time for questions and investigations. Yes, they were indeed out of the frying pan, but now the fire of an incipient war in 2021 was waiting for each and every one of them, and they were going to miss those fifteen Leopard 2A7’s. The growl of Russian T-90’s was not far away….

  Part XII

  Downfall

  “For something to collapse, not all systems have to shut down. In most cases, just one system is enough. For example, the human body is a system of systems. If just one system, such as the cardiovascular system, shuts down, death follows.”

  —Robert Kiyosaki

  Chapter 34

  The struggle on the Rhine would be the last great battle of the war in the west. Soon twilight would descend upon the Gods, the apocalypse, Götterdämmerung , downfall, das ende . By the late afternoon of November 16th, Operation Plunder was living up to its name. In th enorth, the British were driving a wedge between 10th SS and Panzer Lehr , and O‘Connor had sent the 4th and 6th Canadian Brigades to exploit that gap. They were breaking through, and further south, Roberts’ 11th Armored was crashing on toward Doetinchem north of Emmerich.

  In the south, the US 12th Armored had swept behind the Diersforterwald, past Hammenkein, and raced north towards Bocholt, reaching that city by dusk. The German defense was buckling everywhere, and losses piled up as they desperately tried to maneuver locally to try and plug the gaps. But they would not succeed. There was simply too much force behind this attack, as Simpson began to send in those six reserve divisions. It would soon become a tidal wave of khaki and olive drab, and it could not be stopped.

  After Bocholt, the Armored Cavalry Regiments would be sent forward and they would begin fanning out into the hinterland behind the German front, completely unopposed. Maj Gen John Wood of 4th Armored was told to get on the highways leading east and step on the gas. The German line was broken at the edge of the oncoming winter, and now the troops surged forward with the singular hope that they might end this damn war and be home before Christmas.

  With Simpson’s fresh infantry relieving 11th and 12th Armored, the two divisions joined Wood’s 4th Armored for the galloping advance across the north German Plain. They would get as far as Paderborn before finally stopping to wait for the fuel trucks to catch up with them again.

  In the south, Patton had crossed between Koln and Koblenz his massive 3rd Army simply too much for 2nd and 116th Panzer Divisions to try and contain. He would break through and reach Marburg, over more difficult terrain, about the same time that Simpson’s tankers got to Paderborn. East of those two spearheads, there was nothing of any consequence to try and stop the American advance. Any small scratch unit that attempted it was summarily destroyed.

  Montgomery fought his set piece battle and crossed with Dempsey on his right, between Mainz and Manheim. The tanks of his 6th and 10th Armored Divisions, with 4th and 7th Armored Brigades in the van, would drive on until they reached the Fulda River.

  This sudden and complete collapse of the Western front would be the final blow to a German Army that had been remarkably resilient up until the battle for the Rhine. The dire need for troops, which saw fully 15 divisions withdrawn from the grasp of OB West, was the undoing of all the plans von Rundstedt and Guderian might have laid. They had staked their hopes on the great River Rhine, but found it’s real defensive advantage as thin as water, and in many ways a liability.

  West of the river, the Allied armies were able to regroup, resupply and mass in locations of their own choosing, but the thinned resources of the Wehrmacht had to cover every possible crossing site, and provide some semblance of a mobile reserve at locations all along that long river line. General Student had ordered his 1st and 2nd Parachute Divisions to try and reach Bremen and Hamburg, but the bulk of the army was now sitting in the Ruhr, fourteen infantry and six Panzer divisions, troops that were simply irreplaceable. Von Rundstedt and Guderian knew the end had come.

  “Es ist das Ende ,” said Guderian. “This is the end. I can see no reason to prolong the agony and continue to try and make a massive Kesselschlacht of this sad business. It will end with the entire Ruhr in utter ruins.”

  “I must agree,” said von Rundstedt. “I said we should make a separate peace long ago, but the Allies refused. Now I think we have no choice other than surrender on their terms.”

  “There will be no terms,” said Guderian, “none other than unconditional surrender. Yet if we do this, what of our brothers in the east? The Soviets have just begun fighting their way back into Poland. That battle might rage on for months.”

  “I took the liberty of speaking with Manstein,” said von Rundstedt. “He has agreed that we might at least attempt to negotiate. Himmler is an obstacle, but thankfully he has no real power now that all of his damnable V-1 Rockets have been expended. So Manstein has suggested that we ask for a cease fire to discuss surrender terms, even if he knows, as you and I do, that there will be no terms. He has even agreed to fly to Leningrad, escorted by Soviet fighters, to meet with Sergei Kirov himsel
f. If that is granted, we will use the Army to secure Himmler and his toys, and make sure that he isn’t flying his jet fighters about.”

  “Do you think the Allies will agree to such a request?”

  “They might, if they believed we were serious. Yes, they know we are beaten, but they also know that we could fight on here if we had to, and that would extend this war for many more long and bloody months. We are in a pocket, but we could hold out 90 days by my reckoning. As for Manstein, he has been fighting an elastic defense, trading ground to maintain the front, but it is only a matter of time before that all reaches Berlin. And then he has his own Kesselschlacht to fight, and the capitol will burn with it— Götterdämmerung. ”

  “The great fear is what the Soviets will do if we surrender.”

  “What does it matter? They will do it in any wise, whether we surrender now or three months from now. We sewed the seeds of war, and now we reap the whirlwind. There will be no last Christmas for us this year. It will be a calamity for the German nation and people, but those visitors from tomorrow at least gave us hope that a new Germany can be built on the ruins of this one. Let us send a message to General Eisenhower, and see if he will meet with us while Manstein has his talk with the Soviets.”

  * * *

  Those talks would be held in a stateroom overlooking the blighted ruin of east Leningrad, by design, and Field Marshal Manstein was ushered in unceremoniously, in spite of his rank. As he had received Ambassadors and other heads of state before, even Ivan Volkov, Sergei Kirov did not rise from his chair behind the great mahogany desk he used. Berzin, the intrepid intelligence chief that Kirov called “Grishin” stood like a stone statue behind the General Secretary, and a translator stood by, with a second accompanying Manstein. The long wall was lined with red flags, emblazoned with the hammer and sickle.

  Manstein offered a dignified salute, but it was not returned. He removed his officers cap, tucking it under his right arm, and folded his hands, waiting. Kirov just stared at him, the wizard of the Wehrmacht , the Führer’s Fireman, a man who’s skill in battle seemed unrivaled, even though he had to constantly fight with Hitler holding fast to one arm. As head of Armeegruppe South, he had driven across the Dnieper, the Donets and Don, seized Volgograd and then handed it over to Kirov’s bitter enemy, Ivan Volkov. Then he had reluctantly stormed into the Caucasus, driving all the way to Grozny before the Soviet counterattacks at Kursk and Kharkov compelled the Germans to withdraw.

  He had then jousted with Georgy Zhukov in one battle after another, saving the southern front time and again until finally retreating behind the Dnieper, where he held that line a full year longer than the Germans held it in the old history. Yet when the massive weight of a resurgent Soviet Army fell on Armeegruppe Center, not even the ceaseless energy and stubborn defensive magic of General Mödel could stem the tide. Though there was still fight in Manstein, and in the troops he commanded, like von Rundstedt, he could see no purpose in extending the war, and adding to the massive destruction, and the list of dead and missing men.

  “So,” said Kirov at last. “It seems you have run out of miracles, Herr General.” There was no smile dressing out the mockery, but Manstein expected no less.

  “All war has an end,” said Manstein. “And like every General who has commanded men in battle, I looked for victory, wherever I could find it—and yes, there were many. That said, they are all lost victories now, hollow victories. Once the Führer conceived an operation he called Untergang , Downfall. He thought we could come here and finally finish this war with me seated and you standing before me as I do now. I led the effort to convince him otherwise.”

  “Yet you fought on, even after Hitler’s death, and even if you knew this end would come. Is that not so?”

  “If I could have been given equitable terms a year ago, I would have ended this madness then and there.”

  “Ah, equitable terms. Is that what you have come to ask? Have you been to Moscow lately? And tell me, what do you think of the shattered city behind us through those windows.”

  “That was not my doing, in either case. OKW practically begged Hitler to call off his operation to seize Moscow, but he would not relent. As you expected your General Zhukov to follow your orders, so we were compelled to obey the Führer. Frankly, his death brought great relief.”

  “Yes, and then you simply installed that madman Himmler in his place.”

  “That was mere window dressing. We gave him the title of Chancellor he so avidly sought, but his brief rein was really toothless, and we made certain he did not overreach. All his SS divisions were taken under Wehrmacht command at OKW, and we demanded that his genocidal Einsatzgruppen death squads cease their ghastly work, and that all the concentration camps be abolished.”

  That the prisoners were simply herded into Himmler’s secret factories as slave labor was a detail that Manstein would not point out, but it was clear that he wanted Kirov to know that he, and many others in the Army, wanted no part of the genocide.

  “Big of you,” said Kirov, unphased. “This sudden embrace of civility did not stop you from laying waste to one city after another as you withdrew behind the Dnieper.”

  “Mister General Secretary, your own Generals did the very same things as we advanced, so believe me there was very little earth to scorch by the time we got headed west. If you want to point the finger of recrimination at us, so be it, but we can say the very same thing back at you. However, it seems that might often makes right, does it not?”

  “Sadly so,” said Kirov. “General Manstein, I think you know that the demand for unconditional surrender must stand, and that you can expect no negotiation of other terms from me.”

  “Yes, I believed as much.”

  “Then why did you come here?”

  “To look you in the eye and take the measure of the man who’s might will now make right. While you have every reason to relish this moment as justifiable revenge for what we have done to your country in this war, it is my hope that if we comply with your demands, and lay down our arms, that your army will not continue the killing of our people, and that we might begin to stem the flow of blood, and bind up the deep wounds of this war.”

  “So you want to take your Panzers and go home,” said Kirov. “That, of course, will never happen. Your surrender must be complete, and all your men under arms will be relocated to holding camps—all your equipment confiscated or destroyed. The Soviet Army will then advance from its current front through Poland and occupy Germany after reaching an accord with our Western Allies as to how that will be managed.”

  “What then?” asked Manstein. “Will looting and raping begin? Do your soldiers plan to exact their terrible vengeance upon our people, our women and children?”

  “You mean will our soldiers do the things yours did as you burned your way across the Soviet Union? You are very correct to say we have every reason to do so, every reason in the world. But General Manstein, you say you came here to take my measure—the measure of a man—and that is what I am, not an animal. While I do not do so as any boon to Germany, or as any incentive to secure your surrender here, I will tell you now that I will not permit the wanton rape and plunder of Germany under Soviet occupation. There is a future beyond these days that has called to me, and I look there now, not to the petty and self-serving lust for revenge. We have torn the world apart, you and I, and all the Generals lined up in their nice pressed uniforms, their chests emblazoned with medals. As you can see, I wear none at all, no red stars, gold hammer and sickle, no ribbons festooned with jewels. I see you now wear the famous Knight’s Cross of the Iron Cross, with Oak Leaves and Swords.”

  Manstein looked down where the medal hung at his throat. “You have earned that,” Kirov continued. “But take it off here and now, hand it to me, and I will accept your surrender, and offer you and your nation peace. It will be my intention to limit the forces sent to the occupation duty, and demand the same from our Western Allies. And I will go to the front and personall
y address the officers and men of each and every division I sent, and tell them that they are men , and that they will act as men when they move to carry out my final orders of this war, with honor befitting the victorious soldiers of the Soviet Union. We have sacrificed much, lost millions in this damn war. But Hitler is dead, and now that his Orenburg Federation no longer exists, Volkov has disappeared. Good riddance! Now I will enforce the peace you so rudely and wantonly destroyed. There will be no rape and plunder, Herr General, but Germany will pay a steep price in renumerations to help rebuild the cities they destroyed. I hope Himmler has a sufficient amount hidden away. Now… as to that Iron Cross about your neck….”

  Kirov waited, seeing the tension in the line of Manstein’s jaw, the deep sorrow in his eyes. Yes, it was sorrow, but not shame. It was sorrow for all that had been fought for and lost, the desperate battles, the officers and men that perished, the terrible destruction of nearly 90% of civilized Europe. It was for all the lost victories.

  Manstein slowly reached to unclasp his badge of service and honor, and then he stepped forward, laying the gilded Cross of Iron across his palm, and extending his hand to Sergei Kirov. The Soviet General Secretary, a man unlike any who would ever hold that title, reached out and received the wergild. Then, turning in his chair, he handed it to Berzin. Manstein had been allowed to wear his sidearm, though it had been emptied of ammunition before he entered the room. Now he reached for it, unholstering the Lugar, and laying it upon Kirov’s desk.

  “Mister General Secretary,” he said. “As Chief of Staff of the German Wehrmacht , I accept the offer extended now, and will summarily order the unconditional surrender of all troops remaining under my command, including those of the Waffen SS, Kriegsmarine and Luftwaffe. Should there be any unfortunate incidents or misunderstandings in the management of this surrender, I look to us both to manage them. I will order my officers, at every level, to obey the orders given them by your representatives, as though they were given directly by me. Should you wish to draw up an instrument of surrender, I am prepared to sign the document whenever you wish. Then I ask that you permit me to return to OKW to enforce this peace as will certainly be required. At a time of your choosing, and should you demand it, I will surrender myself to Soviet authorities and accept the justice administered by any court you may see fit to appoint.”