His Deeds:

Drafts" From His Book

Western Front:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

His Deeds:

Drafts" From His Book

Western Front:

 

 

 

 

 

Excerpt from Chapter 20:

I left Frankfurt by mid morning for Aschaffenburg, Schweinfurt, Hof and on to Dresden, Breslau and Warsaw. The further east we travelled the more relaxing it became as the Americans, and the British in particular, had not yet earmarked the East German cities for their mass destruction. Churchill and his mate Air Chief Marshal Sir Arthur Harris's Bomber Offensive was too busy wiping out Berlin, Hamburg, Duesseldorf and Hamm, resulting in horrible deaths to thousands of women and children and old people, but as Sir Arthur once said "Our aircraft occasionally kill women and children but in spite of what happened at Hamburg and other cities, bombing proves a comparatively humane method"! 'Offensive' he was, indeed.

There were hardly any civilians on the trains, only military personnel on their way to the Russian battlefields, like cattle to the slaughterhouse. How many would come back one could only guess. There was not much in the way of conversation, just faraway looks in fellow-travellers' faces, each preoccupied with thoughts and perhaps memories of happier times at home with their families. Quite a few on our train hadn't found their wives and children or parents anymore when they arrived on leave. Probably ripped to pieces or burnt to death in the raids. For them it would be more of a relief to get back to their units and their mates, though even they might not be there anymore - just pushing up next season's potato crop. All personnel en route to Warsaw was ordered to change trains in Breslau for a connection to Posen and from there was directed to board a train that went up to Allenstein, Kaunas and Vilnius in Lithuania. Why the detour, - as the direct line to Byalistok from Breslau would have been via Warsaw, - we were never told, and we didn't really care as long as we had our proper endorsement on the marching paper with the sanction of the military police and the station master's office, it wasn't our worry anymore. The mood was also changing the further east we rolled. The soldiers' inner thoughts again came to grips with reality, to terms with the inevitable and conversation slowly turned to events on the front - a sort of a mental adjustment to something one cannot readily run away from.

We reached Byalistock around 2 February on a cold, bleak morning. The huts on the station were crowded with troops awaiting their various transportations, all huddled around the potbelly stoves to catch a bit of warmth while listening for their transport to be announced. Some would go straight to Vilnias and on to Leningrad, some to Brest-Litovsk and some hadn't a unit to go to anymore, wiped out by the last Russian onslaught. They would be redirected to wherever the present 'shit' was deepest and where they would have to get used to new mates. The 'potbelly 'news kept one pretty well informed of what was happening at the various fronts. Olevsk had fallen to the Russians on the 3 January, also Novgorod-Volynsky. Berdichev and Rokitno on the fifth and sixth, and Sarny was lost on the 12 January. All those places were on the rail line from Korosten to Kovel with Sarny closest and were all taken by Vatutin's First Ukrainian Front. Marshal Kurochkin's Second Belorussian Army was already between Gorin and the Styr river, about halfway from Sarny to Kovel and ready to take Kovel when he deemes conditions right. Kovel was my destination. Outside it was snowing heavily and every time the hut door opened, an icy blast ripped through taking all warmth from the room. However, it wasn't long before the announcement came for all personnel going south to Brest- Litovsk to board immediately. A quick check by the military police and I was aboard.

The train was cold and miserable like the passengers and the landscape looked equally bleak and uninviting. The bad pot belly news - and perhaps the direction we were heading into - surely played on everyone's mind... Was that the last home leave? No doubt it was true for a lot of us. Perhaps I am one of them. I wished then I had never gone on leave. It becomes hard to adjust to the conditions again.

We reached Brest-Litovsk by mid afternoon, there was a quick change of train and we were on our way to Malorita. Not much had changed since I was there. Full partisan alert and again with every available rifle sticking out the windows I felt a bit out of place. I was sure I was the only one with no rifle and was gradually getting fed up explaining why. The irony was I still had the ammunition in my belt.

It was beginning to snow again when we pulled into Malorita, where the duty Panzerzug was waiting to escort us, this time right into Kovel station. Things must have taken a turn for the worse. Kovel by then was the end of the line as the next station some 25 miles further south was Lutsk and was already the scene of a heavy battle. I enquired at the station about my unit. "Yes" I was told," they are still there, the headquarter that is". All the guns were gone, deployed around Rovno and Lutzk.

The military police gave me directions to our headquarters and by the time I arrived it was getting dark and snowing heavily. I passed my old gun position and noticed the living quarters had caved in. Oberleutnant Hahn had moved his headquarters close to the Abteilung HQ. Juergen was still there and he showed me where to find Hahn. "Zurueck vom Urlaub, Herr Oberleutnant" I reported. I wasn't quite sure how to put it. Should I tell him then about my rifle deserting me or should I leave it to the early hours oft he morning? Then I thought, what difference does it really make whether I get shot tonight or early in the morning but my mind flashed back to a lecture we'd had in training in Friedrichshafen: Should you ever get into a situation where you see your freshly severed arm lying next to your rifle -forget about the arm, pick up the rifle! Oh well, in my case I'd had no opportunity to pick it up -it wasn't there. Mitigating circumstances, surely. Standing to attention, I summoned the courage and reported the loss of my rifle, gasmask, rucksack and all the goodies that were in it.

Hahn put on a stern face and let me know that the loss of the rifle could constitute sufficient grounds to have me summarily shot. I respectfully replied "Jawohl Herr Oberleutnant". But then he decided that the loss of my rucksack with all the other stuff should be regarded as enough punishment, for the time being, and as he put it, a living soldier was more useful to him than a dead one. I was dismissed and ordered to front up in the morning for a new rifle and necessary gear and meanwhile he suggested I find a place to sleep somewhere in the store room.

I was issued my rifle and gas mask and a good fitting steel helmet in the morning and told to make myself useful around the Headquarters until transfer to my gun crew could be arranged. At the moment the entire battery was under the tactical command of a cavalry regiment from the SS Division 'Viking' providing fire support to each of their squadrons, two guns to each squadron. The squadrons were all on horseback and operating somewhere in the area around Lutzk. I didn't want to get involved in too many odd jobs, so kept out of everybody's way as much as possible though there wasn't much to do apart from peeling potatoes, a bit of kitchen work and shifting ammo boxes from one corner to the other. A couple of days later Oberleutnant Hahn called me to his quarters and ordered me to get ready to board the supply train leaving for Kamen-Kashirskiy sometime the next day. Kamen- Kashirskiy was some 40 km to the north-east of Kovel on the line to Pinsk. My orders were to report to the Commanding Officer of a Panzer unit operating out of Kamen and collect documents for our Major, the Commander of the Abteilung. Hahn wrote down the name of the officer and made it clear that it was absolutely important that I saw him in person.

I didn't feel at all good about it. All sorts of things went through my mind - clandestine operation, spy mission and then getting captured by the partisans?-- Ouch!... But orders are orders and must be carried out.

Equipped with the appropriately endorsed courier papers, I went to the station and reported to the Escort Commander, a Oberleutnant. "Melde mich zur Stelle, Herr Oberleutnant" and handed him my papers which he waved aside. He told me to shut up and hop on and take up guard position. Obviously he'd been informed of my coming. We were ready to leave but there was some delay in the arrival of the Panzerzug and without that escort we couldn't pull out. We were going in a north-easterly direction, a heavily partisan infested area.

We finally got under way and it was late in the afternoon when we arrived at Kamen-Kashirskiy. The Kamen railway station looked more like a fortress than a station. It was snowing heavily as I walked to the station commander's office and presented my papers and enquired the whereabouts of the Panzer unit. They gave me a sympathetic look and said I should follow the arrows signpost with the unit's identification number and that should bring me right to their headquarters. "In any case, it's only about 4 km to that windmill you can see from here" they added. Indeed, looking in the given direction one could clearly see the windmill vanes. They also said if I hurried I should be there before dark. It had stopped snowing a bit so off I went.

There was no need to follow the unit's tactical signposts. As long as I kept the windmill in sight I should be pretty right but once I'd left the station I was well and truly on my own and suddenly I wished I was back in Kovel shifting ammo boxes or peeling potatoes.

I kept walking. It may have been 4 km but the damn windmill didn't get any closer and, to make it worse, it began snowing again making the daylight less and less. But there was something else that was beginning to worry me and that was a stretch of wooded area before the windmill that I had to cross to reach the building. Forests and partisans were in total harmony, especially when it got towards night time.

I toyed with the idea of turning back to Kamen station, but since I was already more than halfway, took a deep breath and carried on with rifle at the ready and finger on the trigger. Despite the cold, I was breaking out in a sweat and generally didn't feel too good, especially when I thought of what the partisans would do to me if my luck ran out.

The freshly fallen snow had brightened up the surroundings sufficiently for me to find my way on the road and I hoped I blended in well in my camouflaged battle dress which I wore white side out and the white hood fitted tightly over the helmet. I reached the woodland and to my relief found it was not as deep as I'd first feared, more like a large wind break, and at last the windmill was getting nearer. Another quarter of an hour and I should be there but daylight had faded into darkness. Then a ghastly thought entered my mind and I froze: What about if the unit had moved and the windmill was occupied by partisans now? No, that couldn't be. They would have known at the station. Or would they have been concerned about such trifling matter? I continued walking.

A few minutes later I missed another heartbeat or two when I heard a motor approaching from the road ahead with no lights on. Would it be a German patrol or not? I hoped so. It was too late to dart into the wood so I just dropped down into the snow the moment they switched on their head lights but they had seen me and a short burst of a submachine gun zinged over my head, the bullets thudding into the trees behind me! I dropped my rifle, got to my knees and stuck my hands above my head, the whole length of them. Surely they could see I was one of theirs! Or could they? After all a camouflaged overall looked the same on a Russian as on a German.

The vehicle slowly came closer. It was a German patrol car and a Leutnant jumped from the Kuebelwagen with his pistol drawn and a submachine gun was pointing at me from the rear of the vehicle. the Leutnant asked for my identification papers and an explanation. I told him I was on courier duty from Major Kessler of the Flakabteilung in Kovel to the headquarters of the Panzer unit. Actually I didn't say it to him, I was talking to the muzzle of his menacing 08.15 (Luger pistol) which he kept pointed at my head. Wouldn't be much left of my face if he pulls the trigger now I thought. Instead he picked up my rifle and ordered me into the vehicle to look over my papers. After he had established my identity he made it clear I should have told him in the first place and 'all that' could have been avoided! I couldn't make out what 'first place' he was referring to. After all they were the ones who started shooting. "Verdammter Dummkopf" he said. "You should have stayed at the station and we would have picked you up from there!" "Jawohl Herr Leutnant", I agreed, not with his opening remark but that I should have stayed on the station. They never tell you that beforehand, they think you can work it all out by yourself...

The patrol was on its way to the station anyhow so they finished their run then took me back to their headquarters where I reported to their Commanding Officer, a Panzer Major. He was already informed of my coming and asked how his friend, Major Kessler was coping? I said, "Very well indeed, Herr Major," which was pretty well an outright lie since I hadn't seen our good Major since the day I'd arrived at his outfit about ten months previously. Then he handed me a parcel, well wrapped and sealed, to deliver to my Commander with his very best wishes.

I had my doubts whether the contents of that parcel would have been important enough to drastically change the course of the war. It could have contained anything from a choice cut of salami to a box of fine Dutch cigars. The Major then ordered a quick check over the radio for the whereabouts of the armoured train and I was taken to the station by the same patrol, to board the train to Kovel. I got back to headquarters well before midnight and reported in to Oberleutnant Hahn and handed over the parcel. He asked me how I got on. I told him that I nearly got shot while carrying out my duty. "Just as well you didn't" he said looking seemly concerned. "You're going out tomorrow with the supply vehicle".

 

 

 

 

 

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