PANZER

OPERATIONS
THE EASTERN FRONT M E M O I R OF GENERAL R A U S , 1 9 4 1 - 1 9 4 5
PANZER
OPERATIONS
PANZER
OPERATIONS
The Eastern Front Memoir of
General Raus, 1941-1945

E R H A R D RAUS
Compiled and Translated by
STEVEN H. NEWTON

DA C A P O PRESS
A M e m b e r of the Perseus B o o k s G r o u p
Copyright © 2003 by Steven H. Newton

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval
system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photo-
copying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Printed in the United States of America.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Raus, Erhard, 1889-1956.

Panzer operations : the Eastern Front memoir of General Raus,
1941-1945 / Erhard Raus ; compiled and translated by Steven H. Newton,
p. cm.
Reconstruction of a lost original manuscript by General Raus through the
use of other writings by him, both published and unpublished.
ISBN 0-306-81247-9
1. Raus, Erhard, 1889-1956. 2. Generals—Germany—Biography. 3. World War,
1939-1945—Tank warfare. 4. World War, 1939-1945—Campaigns—Eastern Front.
I. Newton, Steven H. II. Title.
D764.R337A3 2003
940.54'1343'092—dc22
2003017612

ISBN 0-306-81409-9 (pbk.)

Set in Sabon MT by the Perseus Books Group

First Da Capo Press paperback edition 2005

Published by Da Capo Press
A Member of the Perseus Books Group
[Link]

Da Capo Press books are available at special discounts for bulk purchases in the U.S. by
corporations, institutions, and other organizations. For more information, please con-
tact the Special Markets Department at the Perseus Books Group, 11 Cambridge Center,
Cambridge, MA 02142, or call (800) 255-1514 or (617) 252-5298, or email
[Link]@[Link].

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 - 0 7 06 05
 TO LIN THOMPSON,

Who taught me to be very careful about

handling other people's words
 CONTENTS

MAPS viii

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS ix

INTRODUCTION by Steven H. Newton xi

CHAPTER ONE The Invasion of the Soviet Union 1

CHAPTER TWO Raseinai 14

CHAPTER THREE To the Russian Border 35

C H A P T E R FOUR The Gateway to Leningrad 46

CHAPTER FIVE Moscow 85

CHAPTER SIX Winter War 95

C H A P T E R SEVEN Outside Stalingrad 137
CHAPTER EIGHT Kharkov and Kursk 185
C H A P T E R NINE Belgorod and Kharkov 213
CHAPTER TEN Battles for the Ukraine 248
CHAPTER ELEVEN The Battle for Lvov 274
CHAPTER TWELVE East Prussia 294
CHAPTER THIRTEEN Pomerania 318
CHAPTER FOURTEEN Final Thoughts of a Soldier 341
APPENDIX The Life and Career of Erhard Raus 349
INDEX 355

VII
 MAPS

6th Panzer Division's Advance to Leningrad,

22 June-20 August 1941 15
Kampfgruppe Raus Opens "The Gateway to Leningrad,"
11-14 July 1941 47

Area of the Luga River Bridgehead, July 1941 56

Crisis Outside Moscow: Ninth Army,

February-March 1942 96
The Stalingrad Relief Attempt Called Off,
23 December 1942 153

The Revolving Armored Battle, 13 December 1942 162

Initial Attack Objectives:

Armeeabteilung Kempf, 5 July 1943 186
Armeeabteiling Kempf, Situation 10 July 1943 198

Soviet Counteroffensives, Mid July 1943 205

Defensive Sector of the 320th Infantry Division,
August 1943 217
Fourth Battle of Kharkov, August 1943 238
The Kiev Salient, November 1943 257
Armeegruppe Raus, 12 July 1944 284
Third Panzer Army Defending East Prussia,
30 November 1944 309

VIII
 ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

This narrative never would have been recovered without the assistance of
Andrew Heilmann and Jonathon Scott, who located and copied several key
fragments of Raus's work at the National Archives. Lieutenant Colonel
David Wrenn, Executive Officer, 1st Brigade, 29th Infantry Division (Light),
deserves much of the credit for teaching me how to read battle narratives crit-
ically, and how to make even the most complex tactical situations more clear
to the reader. I received constant encouragement (and the occasional free
lunch) from Dr. Yohuru Williams of Delaware State University, and consid-
erable dispensations for travel and writing time from my department chair,
Dr. Samuel Hoff. Both of these individuals I value highly as friends, col-
leagues, and critics. My wife, Faith; my children, Marie, Alexis, and Michael;
and our recently arrived grandson (Shane Michael Adams) as always have
contributed to any publishing success by putting up with my strange writing
schedule and—in Shane's case—by not throwing rice cereal onto the key-
board.

IX
INTRODUCTION BY
STEVEN H. NEWTON

O N JUNE 2 2 , 1 9 4 1 , COLONEL ERHARD RAUS entered t h e G e r m a n

campaign against Russia as an unknown quantity to both his soldiers and
superiors. An Austrian by birth, his last combat experience had been as act-
ing commander of the Bicycle Light-Infantry Battalion 1 in the Austro-
Hungarian army for five months in 1918 during World War I. Raus spent the
interwar years in staff and training posts, and when he was absorbed into the
German army in the 1938 Anschluss (the German annexation of Austria), he
continued in staff assignments (most notably as chief of staff, XVII Corps,
during the French campaign) for the next two years, with the sole exception
of a two-month stint commanding a training regiment. Following the prac-
tice of transferring General Staff officers between staff and line positions,
Raus took over Infantry Regiment 243 in June 1940, transferring to
Motorized Infantry Regiment 4 one month later. In May 1941 he advanced
to command of the 6th Motorized Infantry Brigade, 6th Panzer Division,
without having led his regiment in even a skirmish. At that time there would
have been little reason to expect that the bespectacled, forty-two-year-old
Austrian would rise to army command.
"Untested" may well have been the description of Raus in the mind of
division commander Franz Landgraf. Aside from having no recent battlefield
experience, Raus lacked any prior association with the panzer troops, a par-
ticularly disquieting circumstance for the 6th Panzer Division's second-rank-
ing officer. Landgraf would have learned that the modest Austrian was a
meticulous planner, an indefatigable trainer, and an officer whose command
persona depended less on bravado than upon ensuring that every subordinate
understood his mission as completely as possible. Those were valuable
traits—but not necessarily any guide regarding Raus's reaction under the
fast-paced, unforgiving conditions of mechanized combat.

XI
XII

Within days of his taking command, however, Raus had proven himself as
imperturbable on the battlefield as he was at a staff briefing, and by the time
6th Panzer Division reached the outskirts of Leningrad, in northern Russia,
the troops assigned to fight under him were already prone to comment in
tough spots that "Raus will get us through." The Austrian's keen eye for ter-
rain, his innate understanding of combined-arms warfare, and his flair for
unorthodox tactics made him Landgraf's natural successor at division com-
mand. When the onset of winter, long supply lines, and sheer exhaustion of
men and machines left the 6th Panzer Division little more than a shadow unit
outside Moscow in January 1942, Colonel General Walter Model (newly
promoted commander of the Ninth Army) showed remarkable prescience in
turning over control of his entire rear area and line of supply to Raus's head-
quarters. In the freezing weather Raus assembled a motley force of con-
struction units, Luftwaffe ground crews, and other flotsam to hold the criti-
cal railroad line leading through Sychevka to the front lines. Had Raus not
been able to defend Model's communications, Ninth Army would probably
have lost the entire XXIII Corps, which had been encircled northwest of the
town. By mid-February, Raus had collected enough strength to initiate his so-
called snail offensive strategy to push the Soviets out of key villages and cre-
ate a security zone several miles wide along the length of the railroad.
His performance during the Soviet winter counteroffensive earned Raus
the sobriquet Der Nochdenker (the Far-sighted One), and cemented his
working relationship with Model, under whom he would serve as an army
commander in Galicia two years later. The 6th Panzer Division had earned a
hiatus of several months in France for reorganization, but it returned to
Russia in December 1942 to spearhead Fourth Panzer Army's ill-fated
attempt to relieve the Sixth Army at Stalingrad. Despite the makeshift offen-
sive's failure, Raus abruptly found himself elevated to corps command in
early 1943, where—in succession—he: played a supporting role in Field
Marshal Erich von Manstein's "backhand blow"; held the extreme right
flank of Armeeabteilung Kempf during the battle of Kursk; supervised Army
Group South's grudging defense of Kharkov; and conducted a fighting with-
drawal across the Dnepr River against overwhelming odds.
Hitler rewarded Raus with command of the Fourth Panzer Army, which
he led during von Manstein's counterattack at Kiev in December 1943. He
would remain an army commander until Hitler finally relieved him in March
1945, heading in succession the Fourth, First, and Third Panzer Armies in
Poland, the Baltic States, East Prussia, and finally Pomerania. Despite the
names associated with his headquarters, these armies more often contained
poorly trained volksgrenadier outfits than panzer divisions, but on occa-
sion—at Kiev, Lvov, and in the Baltic—Raus had the chance to prove that he
 XIII

could handle large-scale armored operations with the same aplomb that he
had displayed in division command. Heinz Guderian, then Chief of the
Army General Staff, considered him "one of our best panzer generals" and
habitually inserted Raus into critical situations.
Because he reached army command at a time when Germany had irrevo-
cably been forced to undertake the strategic defensive, Raus found himself
forced to become a defensive specialist. What made him especially unusual,
however, was that despite having worked his way up as a panzer division
commander the Austrian generally eschewed the better-known "mobile" or
"elastic" defensive concepts in favor of what he later called "zone defensive
tactics." Where generals like Hermann Balck or Hasso von Manteuffel
favored dealing with Soviet penetrations by initiating fluid mobile opera-
tions that temporarily surrendered ground with the aim of eviscerating
enemy tank spearheads and recovering any lost territory, Raus preferred to
repulse such breakthroughs and hold his position. He did not blindly advo-
cate anything resembling Hitler's infamous "stand fast" orders, but he did
believe that the relative immobility of German infantry divisions and the
shortage of panzer divisions combined to make large-scale mobile opera-
tions (like von Manstein's "backhand blow") too dangerous to risk after
mid-1943.
Raus's operational preferences combined to make him a favorite of both
Hitler and Model, since he was one of the few officers genuinely willing to
attempt to defend territory rather than call for its abandonment.
Unfortunately for the Austrian's postwar reputation, this made him nearly an
invisible man. As David Glantz and other historians have repeatedly
observed, between the late 1940s and 1980s the Western understanding of the
war in Russia has been unduly shaped by the memoirs of German officers
like Heinz Guderian, Erich von Manstein, and Friedrich-Wilhelm von
Mellenthin. In none of those pivotal works does Raus make more than a
token appearance. Guderian defended Raus at the moment Hitler sacked
him, but he failed to recount the fact that the Austrian's relatively successful
defensive operations in East Prussia had been conducted along lines with
which "Fast Heinz" vehemently disagreed. Raus received respectful treat-
ment from von Manstein in passing, but nothing more, primarily because
Raus became the beneficiary when Hitler fired Hermann Hoth as com-
mander of the Fourth Panzer Army. In von Mellenthin's famous Panzer
Battles, Raus comes in for heavy criticism (though not always by name) for
his refusal to conduct the Kiev counteroffensive or the Lvov defensive in the
same manner that the author and his idol, Hermann Balck, would have pre-
ferred. When von Mellenthin penned his follow-up volume on influential
German generals, he omitted Raus entirely.
XIV

Yet the U.S. Army Historical Program has valued Raus highly and made
his writings the focal point of several well-known topical studies on the war
against the Soviet Union. Raus is listed as the primary author of works on
military improvisations, climate, small-unit tactics, and other issues. These
studies have enjoyed a long and influential life, first in the slender DA
(Department of the Army) pamphlet series, then in a limited edition reprint
series, and most recently in a full-scale set of reproductions edited by Peter
Tsouras. The preservation of these works, as originally published, has been
critical both to keeping alive the German view of the conflict and to provid-
ing a modern audience with access to key Cold War documents, but exactly
how much of the writing actually stemmed from Raus himself has remained
problematic. What escaped even Raus's biographers is that the underlying
material was clipped out of a complete narrative memoir covering Raus's war
in Russia.
The original manuscript remains lost and may no longer exist, but by tak-
ing the longer segments that lay behind the already published material, com-
bining them with unpublished studies, and supplementing these with the text
from several articles that Raus published in Allgemaine Schweizerische
Militarzeitschrifte, nearly the entire document can be reconstructed. Careful
readers will notice differences in syntax and translation between this mem-
oir and previously published segments. The young officers who provided the
first translations were—to be charitable—blissfully unaware of professional
canons of translation, surprisingly unfamiliar with Wehrmacht technical ter-
minology, and often completely lost in the nuances of the grammar and syn-
tax of a foreign language. Comparisons of their translations to the original
German often yields surprising results, including entire sentences or para-
graphs whose meanings have been unintentionally (one hopes) reversed.
Moreover, later editors, condensing and revising the material from these
translations for a more polished publication, took additional liberties with
the narratives, often truncating entire sections or carving up longer narra-
tives into illustrative fragments to be sprinkled throughout several pam-
phlets.
Where possible, the translation provided in the chapters that follow
returns to the German manuscript materials and tries to recapture the origi-
nal style and feel of Raus's writing. In addition, wherever possible I have
included the specific unit designations and names of commanders, rendered
place-names consistently, and resequenced several parts of his account of the
war's final days for easier reading. That portion of the original work thus far
unrecoverable appears primarily to be framing or transition material, where-
in Raus could be expected to place the operations he commanded into the
greater perspective of the war. The only substantive gap in this memoir is
 XV

extensive coverage of the 6th Panzer Division's role in the final German drive
on Moscow in November-December 1941. The small amount of narrative
recovered has been supplemented by material from the 6th Panzer Division's
War Diary. When the 6th Panzer Division left Russia for six months of reor-
ganization in France during mid-1942 there is another gap, but it does not
noticeably impair the overall flow of the document.
In its scope and value as a historical source, the Raus memoir rivals and
potentially eclipses those of Guderian, von Manstein, and von Mellenthin.
Erhard Raus was an entertaining writer with a keen tactical eye—his narra-
tive is easily more readable and less self-serving than Guderian's. His work is
very much a Cold War period piece, in which the Germans fought hard but
honorably against the malevolent Soviet hordes. (However, Raus does admit
that the Germans shot commissars and implies the controversial order to do
so, in fact, penetrated down to divisional level at least.) He is occasionally
inaccurate in his chronology, and his anecdotes occasionally confuse similar
events, people, and units, but these minor discrepancies do little to harm the
historical importance of his recollections.
The primary limitation—and greatest strength—of the Raus memoir is its
nearly exclusive focus on tactical warfare. Readers will not find character
sketches or extended analyses of von Manstein or Model, or extended sum-
maries of the "big picture" of the war in other sectors. Many junior officers
fighting their small, intense battles for nameless Russian villages remain
anonymous themselves—knowable only through their actions. Yet the unre-
lenting concentration on small-unit combat (even when Raus was an army
commander) provides greater insight into the combined-arms tactics of the
German army than almost any other account available in English or
German. As such, the memoir is an invaluable historical source, as well as an
excellent read by any standard.
Chapter 1

THE INVASION OF THE

SOVIET UNION

Failures of German Planning and Preparation

THE PREREQUISITE FOR A SUCCESSFUL WAR against the Soviet
Union was a systematic preparation for the undertaking. One could not pro-
voke such a conflict and expect to carry it through in a spirit of adventure.
Unfortunately, due to the lack of vision and the fundamental blunders of
Germany's leadership, it is no exaggeration to state that the entire Russian
campaign will go down in history as one gigantic improvisation. Prior to the
invasion of the Soviet Union, the Oberkommando der Wehrmacht [ O K W —
German Armed Forces High Command] and OKH [ O b e r k o m m a n d o der
Heer—Army High Command] did not think far enough ahead. Senior com-
manders in the armed forces and military specialists in all important fields
must acquire firsthand knowledge of the climate and terrain, as well as the
social, economic, political, and military conditions in any potential theater
of war, or at least in those neutral or friendly countries that possess similar
characteristics. Both OKW and OKH were in a good position to learn the
general, as well as the climactic, conditions of European Russia and the far
north. If the officers involved actually acquired this knowledge, they cer-
tainly failed to draw the proper conclusions with respect to strategy and mil-
itary policy. If they did not get that information in the first place, they were
obviously guilty of neglect.
The problem may have been that German planners were too deeply en-
trenched in Central European military traditions and not sufficiently famil-
iar with foreign lands and particularly with countries whose climatic condi-
tions differed from the German. As a result, they lacked a personal
understanding of what was to be expected and probably took matters too
lightly at the outset. Especially in the fields of tactics and logistics in Euro-

I
 2 PANZER OPERATIONS

pean Russia and the arctic, better preparations should have been made before
military operations began.
Any observer who looks at the Russian campaign in retrospect will come
to the conclusion that the multitude of tactical and logistical improvisations
that had to be employed to compensate for this lack of planning far exceeded
what Field Marshal Helmuth von Moltke once designated as a "system of ex-
pedients" in a tactical sense. In reality, our troops found themselves forced to
introduce their first improvisations as soon as they crossed the Russian bor-
der. The farther they penetrated into the Soviet Union, the more expedients
they had to devise, and the number rose by leaps and bounds when opera-
tions began to be hampered first by mud and swamps and later by snow and
ice. German soldiers had been neither trained nor equipped to withstand the
raging elements of nature because OKH had been under the impression that
the Red Army could be destroyed west of the Dnepr and that there would be
no need for conducting operations in cold, snow, and mud.

Russia as a Theater of Operations

The German soldiers who crossed into Russian territory felt that they had
entered a different world, opposed not only by the forces of the enemy but
also by the forces of nature. Nature was the ally of the Red Army, and the
struggle against this alliance was to be a severe test for the Wehrmacht. The
influence of climate was felt in every effort of the German military estab-
lishment, whether on land, over water, or in the air. Climate was not only
a dynamic force in the Russian expanse; it was the key to military success.
Our troops had to become thoroughly familiar with Russian land and cli-
mate—new enemy weapons to them—in order to deal with them or—at
least—to neutralize their restrictive efforts. Their qualities altered tactical
procedures formerly in common use, forcing the adoption of local expedi-
ents and improvisations suited to military operations in a particular area
and climate.
Summer, the season in which Operation Barbarossa began, was the most
favorable period for operations in European Russia. Days were warm, nights
cool, and only in the southern regions was the heat intense. Moors and
swamps dried up, and swampy lowlands that were otherwise impassable dur-
ing the muddy season could be used by peasant carts and—to a limited de-
gree—by wheeled and tracked vehicles. All roads were passable during the
summer, and even driving in open terrain was possible, despite numerous fis-
sures and cracks in the ground. Summer not only dried out roads but reduced
the level of rivers and streams as well; rivers could be forded, and smaller
 THE INVASION OF THE SOVIET UNION 3

streams represented only minor obstacles, even though swampy terrain re-
mained a serious barrier. All arms, therefore, enjoyed optimum mobility.
Even in summer, however, weather and terrain created severe challenges
for the troops to overcome. Sudden thunderstorms could almost instantly
change passable dirt roads and open terrain into mud traps. Once the rain
ended and the sun returned, dirt roads dried out rapidly and could again be
used by normal traffic, provided that undisciplined, overeager drivers had
not plowed them up while the roads were still soft. During dry periods, on
the other hand, dust wreaked havoc on our motor vehicles. Even our panzers
sustained severe damage from the clouds of dust they stirred up while cross-
ing vast sandy regions because many of them had no dust filters, and those
so equipped soon became thoroughly clogged. The huge dust clouds raised
by our convoys frequently provoked air attacks that resulted in serious losses
of vehicles and horses.
Swampy and sandy terrain repeatedly had a decisive effect upon move-
ment and combat. Likewise, the great forests of northern and central Russia
often forced all movement into narrow, unpaved lanes. It proved impossible
to estimate the time required for a march through such areas; careful ground
and air reconnaissance had to be conducted to compare our maps with the
actual terrain conditions. Provision had to be made for supplementary gaso-
line, extra engineer troops, portable bridging equipment, and wreckers.
As our panzer and motorized units plunged across the dusty Russian plains
during that first summer, nobody paid much attention to the insignificant lit-
tle peasant horses of the steppes. The tankers and truck drivers could not fail
to notice the industrious little animals pulling heavily loaded peasant wagons
cross-country whenever they were pushed off the road by the modern me-
chanical giants. Our troops viewed them sympathetically, but what was their
performance compared to that of the steel colossi and multi-ton carriers? Any
comparison obviously was out of the question. Many a man dismissed them
with a disdainful gesture and the words: "A hundred years behind the times."
Even next to the heavy, cold-blooded draft horses and the tall mounts of the
infantry divisions their dwarfish cousins seemed slightly ridiculous. A few
months later the panje horse would be judged quite differently.
The Russians favored forests for their approach marches and as assembly
areas for attacks. They appeared and disappeared invisibly and noiselessly
through the woods. Narrow strips of woodland leading to the outskirts of
villages were utilized as concealed approaches by reconnaissance patrols.
The woods also indicated the logical course to be followed for the forward
assembly prior to an attack, as well as for infiltrating into German posi-
tions. Outskirts of woods were a preferred jump-off position for Soviet
 4 PANZER OPERATIONS

mass attacks. Wave upon wave could surge out of the forests. Even the
smallest clearing found use as artillery firing positions; when necessary the
Russians created such clearings by rapidly felling trees. They quickly and
cleverly constructed positions for heavy weapons and observation posts in
the trees, which thus situated provided effective support to advancing in-
fantry. In contrast to our own difficulties, bringing up even medium artillery
and tanks through almost impenetrable forests presented no problem to the
Russians.
The Soviets also proved exceptionally adept at preparing towns and vil-
lages for defense, converting them into virtual fortresses very quickly.
Wooden houses sported well-camouflaged gun ports almost flush with the
floor, their interiors reinforced with dirt or sandbags, and observation slots
cut into the roofs. Bunkers were excavated into the floors and connected with
adjacent houses or exterior defenses by narrow trenches. Although almost all
inhabited places were crammed with Red Army troops, they appeared de-
serted to German reconnaissance units, since even water and food details
were allowed to leave their shelters only after dark. The Russians blocked ap-
proach routes with well-camouflaged antitank guns or dug-in tanks, espe-
cially favoring the use of knocked-out tanks as observation posts or heavy
weapon emplacements. When the front line neared a village, the inhabitants
carried their possessions into the outlying woods or bunkers for safekeeping.
They did not take part in the fighting of the regular troops but served as aux-
iliaries, building earthworks and passing on information.
The utmost caution had to be exercised when passing through unknown
terrain. Even long and searching observation often failed to reveal excellently
camouflaged Russians. Frequently our patrols passed by the immediate vicin-
ity of Russian positions or individual riflemen without noticing them, only
to be taken under fire from behind. Caution had to be doubled in wooded
areas, where the Russians often had to be driven out individually, Indian-
fashion. There, sniping from trees was particularly favored.
The water supply in European Russia varied greatly from region to region,
the quality and quantity generally deteriorating toward the south. During
summer it was uniformly poor. In the Baltic region nearly every inhabited
place had an adequate number of wells that furnished potable water; be-
tween Leningrad and the Luga River we found many wells sunk as deep as
eighty feet. These wells provided water that was cold and of excellent qual-
ity. Villages in central and southern Russia each had one or two wells, but
during the summer their water was scant and warm; many wells and cisterns
in southern Russia nearly dried up in summer droughts, and such water as
they furnished had to be boiled before drinking. Drinking water often had to
be taken from brooks and rivers.
 THE INVASION OF THE SOVIET UNION 5

The Red Army in 1941

Military history should have provided a source of valuable information

about Russian capabilities. It is never too late to determine the reasons for
the success or failure of past operations. Many of the decisive factors retain
their validity across the years and exert the same effect on military opera-
tions in the present. In 1807 it was the Russian soldier who for the first time
made a stand against Napoleon after his victorious march through Europe—
a stand that may be called almost epic. The underestimation of the Russian
soldier and the Red Army was a serious error by the German command, even
though neither the man nor the organization quite fit the pattern of modern
warfare and the educated fighting man.
The difference between the Imperial Russian Army in World War I and the
Red Army, even at the outset of the German invasion, was considerable.
Whereas in the earlier war the Russian army fought as a more or less amor-
phous mass, immovable and without individuality, the spiritual awakening
through communism had already begun to show itself in 1941. In contrast to
the situation between 1914 and 1917, the number of illiterates was small; the
Russian masses were well on the way to acquiring individuality, though the
number of good noncommissioned officers [NCOs] was still not large, and
the great mass of soldiers had not yet overcome their sluggishness. The force
bringing about this change was communism or—more precisely—a spiritual
awakening of the people directed by a rigidly centralized state. The Russian
was fundamentally nonpolitical; at least that was true for the rural popula-
tion, which supplied most of the soldiers. He was not an active Communist,
not a political zealot. But he was—and here should have been noted a deci-
sive change—a conscious Russian who fought only in rare instances for po-
litical ideals, but always for his Motherland.
The industrialization of the country, carried out in a comparatively short
period of time, made available to the Red Army a larger number of workers
with full command of technical skills. Soldiers trained in technical subjects
were carefully distributed through the ranks, where they taught the necessary
rudiments to their duller urban comrades and to those who came from rural
areas. Whereas in World War I the telephone was still magic to the average
Russian, in World War II he regarded the complicated radio as an amusing
toy.
In line with this awakening, another determining factor had been intro-
duced into the Red Army by the political commissar: unqualified obedience.
Systematic training, drill, disregard for one's own life, the natural inclination
of the Russian soldier to uncompromising compliance, and, not least of all,
the real disciplinary powers available to the commissar were the foundations
 6 PANZER OPERATIONS

of this iron obedience. The commissar was probably the most controversial
man in the Red Army; even in the Soviet Union opinion varied concerning his
usefulness, his position, and his duties. He was the driving force of the army,
ruling with cunning and cold-bloodedness.
It is not true, however, that the Russian soldier fought well only because
of fear of the commissars. A soldier who is motivated solely through fear can
never have the fighting qualities displayed by Russian soldiers. Instead, the
attitude of the common soldier toward the commissar was conditioned not
only by fear of his power but also by his personal exemplification of the sol-
dier and fighter. His concern for the welfare of the troops also determined to
a large extent his relationship with his men. Thus the example set by the
commissar was largely responsible for the tenacious resistance of the Russ-
ian soldier, even in hopeless situations. It is not wholly true that the German
"Commissar Order," directing that upon capture commissars be turned over
to the SD [Sicherungsdienst—Security Service] for "special treatment," that
is, execution, was solely responsible for inciting the commissars to bitter last-
ditch resistance. The impetus much rather was fanaticism together with sol-
dierly qualities and probably also a genuine feeling of responsibility for the
victory of the Soviet Union.
The higher command echelon of the Red Army proved capable from the
very beginning: flexible, full of initiative, and energetic. However, they were
unable to inspire the mass of Russian soldiers. Most commanders had ad-
vanced in peacetime to high positions at a very early age, although there were
some older men among them. All social levels were represented, from the
common laborer to the university professor of Mongolian languages and cul-
tures. Of course, merit in the Revolution played a part, but a good choice was
made with respect to character, military understanding, and intelligence.
Purely party generals apparently received positions carrying little more than
prestige.
During the various political purges, an appreciable portion of the high
command strata disappeared. But it is a mistake to assume that a deteriora-
tion of the higher command levels necessarily resulted. Such great progress
had been made in military education that even the higher commanders
available at the beginning of the war were of a stature commensurate with
their duties. The many developments in the sphere of strategy, which now
and then gave rise to doubts about the ability of these leaders, require an ex-
amination of their background before they can be properly judged. The al-
leged failure during the Finnish winter campaign of 1939-1940 is well
known, but nevertheless the conjecture cannot be dismissed that there was
some bluffing involved. The timing of the operation was correct and pro-
 THE INVASION OF THE SOVIET UNION 7

duced results as soon as the will of the immeasurably superior attacker de-
sired them.
Nor was the immediate tactical and operational success of the German
surprise attack at the outset of the campaign against Russia any proof to the
contrary. Along the central front, and also in the Baltic region, it appeared as
though the Soviets did not consider the actual war to have begun until our
troops had reached the Dnepr and Luga Rivers. One of Marshal Timo-
shenko's strategic war games, which was captured by our soldiers, as well as
the course of events during the first weeks of the campaign, tended to sub-
stantiate this assumption. Especially in front of Army Group Center along
the Bug River, only customs and frontier guards were encountered initially;
very weak enemy forces appeared after a few days. Finally, we had a big bat-
tle in the Dnepr-Berezina triangle, and thus began the Russian campaign in
earnest. Again and again reports gave the impression that large-scale enemy
movements did not get under way until after the opening of the campaign
and that they took place beyond the Dnepr. From the point of view of Soviet
grand strategy, this was undoubtedly an expedient solution. Nevertheless,
Fremde Heer Ost [Foreign Armies East—the German military intelligence
service] maintained its belief that it had identified continuous troop move-
ments to the Russo-German frontier, supposedly involving 130 divisions, as
early as the spring of 1940.
The flexibility demonstrated by the commanders of armies and fronts
was not evident at the lower levels. Command echelons below division level
in the Red Army, and for the most part the intermediate echelons (gener-
ally division level), entered the conflict inflexible and indecisive, avoiding
all personal responsibility. The rigid pattern of training and a too-strict dis-
cipline so narrowly confined the lower command within a framework of
existing regulations that the result was lethargy. Spirited application to a
task, born of the decision of an individual, was a rarity. Russian elements
that broke through our lines could remain for days behind the front with-
out recognizing their favorable position and taking advantage of it. The So-
viet small-unit commander's fear of doing something wrong and being
called to account for it was greater than the urge to take advantage of a sit-
uation.
The commanders of tank and mechanized units were often well trained
along tactical lines, but to some extent they had not grasped the essence of
tactical doctrines and therefore often acted according to set patterns, not ac-
cording to circumstances. Also, there was a pronounced spirit of blind obe-
dience that had perhaps carried over from the regimented civilian life into the
military field. This lethargy and reluctance to assume responsibility was a se-
 8 PANZER OPERATIONS

rious drawback to the Red Army, completely neutralizing a great many good
points of the Russian soldier at the outset of the campaign.

The German Army on the Eve of the Invasion

Insufficiently prepared for the campaign in the East, as the pillar of Ger-
many's military might the army nonetheless had to bear the brunt of the
fighting. The heartbeat of the army was at the front, where deficiencies and
shortages of any kind were immediately felt.
From the very first days of the campaign, the vastness of European Russia
and the peculiarities of Russian warfare led to the repeated isolation of indi-
vidual units and combat teams. All-around defenses and security measures
were the only possible remedy, but far from being stressed, these defensive
tactics were frequently not even mentioned in the field service regulations.
The field forces had to improvise them. With regard to our artillery, wire and
radio communications could be lost between gun positions and their obser-
vation posts for extended periods, a complication not previously encoun-
tered. As substitutes, field expedients had to be used to maintain communi-
cations, including signals transmitted by discs, inscriptions on blackboards
read with the help of field glasses, mounted messengers, runner, and relayed
messages. Much time had to be devoted to training in Morse code transmis-
sion by signal lamps.
The clothing issued to our soldiers proved too heavy for summer wear. As
a result, the men perspired too easily, became very thirsty, and were soon
caked with dirt. Only the mountain trousers and field jackets that were worn
by the mountain and jaeger divisions turned out to be practical for year-
round usage. For protection against the dust, masks for mouth and nose and
goggles should have been issued; individual equipment should have included
mosquito head nets. Hard-packed dirt roads cut like glass into shoe leather,
and boot soles quickly went to pieces; spare boots should have been available
to every soldier.
The German army was not modern enough to overcome these difficulties
easily; our supply and transportation systems in Russia were especially de-
pendent on improvisations because of the peculiarities of terrain and cli-
mate. From the outset of the campaign, supply columns had to be improvised
from motor vehicles of every type that had been requisitioned from private
owners. Many of these vehicles were in poor condition and therefore of lit-
tle service, and the problem of replacing spare parts for so many different
types of trucks caused incessant difficulties.
With respect to the draft horses that transported the bulk of the supplies
for our infantry divisions, the light and medium breeds of Western European
 THE INVASION OF THE SOVIET UNION 9

countries proved generally satisfactory for summer duty. Heavier breeds were
less hardy and needed excessive amounts of forage. It would have been bet-
ter not to have used heavy breeds in Russia.

The 6th Panzer Division Prepares for the Campaign

The 6th Panzer Division entered the Soviet Union under control of XLI
Panzer Corps, which itself belonged to Panzer Group 4. Panzer Group 4, it-
self subordinated to Army Group North, was organized as follows:

Panzer Group 4
Colonel General Erich Hoepner
Chief of Staff: Colonel Walter Chales de Beaulieu
Operations Officer: Major von Schoen-Angerer

LVI Panzer Corps

General of Infantry Erich von Manstein
Chief of Staff: Lieutenant Colonel Harald Freiherr von Elverfeldt
Operations Officer: Major Erich Dethleffsen
3rd Motorized Infantry Division
Lieutenant General Curt Jahn

8th Panzer Division

Major General Erich Brandenberger

290th Infantry Division

Lieutenant General Theodor Freiherr von Wrede

Corps Troops
Artillery Commander 125
II/Artillery Regiment 61 (105mm howitzers)
Engineer Regiment Staff (motorized) 678
Engineer Battalion (motorized) 48
Commander of Construction Troops 4
Construction Battalions 44, 55, 87
Panzerjaeger Battalion 559 (47mm self-propelled guns)
Light Flak Battalion 92 (20mm flak; Luftwaffe)
II/Flak Regiment 23 (mixed) (20mm and 88mm flak; Luftwaffe)

XLI Panzer Corps

General of Panzer Troops George-Hans Reinhardt
Chief of Staff: Colonel Carl Roettiger
Operations Officer: Major Klostermann
 10 PANZER OPERATIONS

6th Panzer Division

Major General Franz Landgraf
Operations Officer: Major Joachim A. G. Graf von Kielmansegg

1st Panzer Division

Lieutenant General Friedrich Kirchner
Operations Officer: Lieutenant Colonel Walter Wenck

36th Motorized Division

Lieutenant General Otto Ottenbacher

269th Infantry Division

Major General Ernst von Leyser

Corps Troops
Artillery Commander 30
Artillery Regimental Staff 618
Artillery Battalion 611 (100mm cannon)
II/Artillery Regiment 59 (150mm howitzers)
II/Artillery Regiment 67 (150mm howitzers)
Mortar Battalion 615 (210mm mortars)
Engineer Regimental Staff (motorized) 628
Engineer Battalion (motorized) 52
Commander of Construction Troops 71
Construction Battalions 62, 254
Nebelwerfer Regiment 52 (multiple rocket launchers)
Army Light Flak Battalion 601 (20mm flak)
Light Flak Battalion 83 (20mm flak; Luftwaffe)
I I/Flak Regiment 411 (20mm flak; Luftwaffe)
I/Flak Regiment 3 (20mm and 88mm flak; Luftwaffe)

Army Troops
SS Totenkopf Motorized Infantry Division
Gruppenfuehrer Theodor Eicke

Senior Artillery Commander 312

Engineer Battalion (motorized) 62
Senior Construction Staff 32
Panzerjaeger Battalion 616 (47mm self-propelled guns)
Flak Regiment Staff 133 (Luftwaffe)
Flak Regiment Staff 164 (Luftwaffe)
Flak Battalions (mixed) 11/36, 1/51,1/111 (20mm and 88mm flak; Luft-
waffe)
 THE INVASION OF THE SOVIET UNION 11

The most noteworthy characteristic of the 6th Panzer Division at the out-
set of the Russian campaign was the fact that the entire division contained
the equivalent of only a single heavy panzer company. Panzer Regiment 11
consisted of three battalions of four companies each. The predominant
panzer model was the light PzKw 35t, an older vehicle of Czech manufacture
that was no longer in production and whose frontal armor had a maximum
thickness of only 25mm. Only the 4th Company of each battalion was pro-
vided with some PzKw IVs and a few PzKw Ills. By contrast, the 1st Panzer
Division boasted an entire battalion of heavy panzers. The higher numerical
strength of Panzer Regiment 11 could not compensate for its technical defi-
ciencies. From the outset, his awareness of this weakness all but forced Major
General Franz Landgraf, the division commander, to forbid the commitment
of all panzers en masse and instead to employ them in conjunction with our
infantry battalions. Alone our PzKw 35ts would have been grossly inferior
even to the Russian tanks and antitank weapons about which we were al-
ready aware.
These facts require special mention because they entailed different com-
bat methods on our part from those utilized by other panzer divisions, as the
6th Panzer Division was the only one in the German army still equipped with
those obsolete tanks. Moreover, because production of the PzKw 35t had
been discontinued for some time, providing for spare parts became increas-
ingly difficult. Thus the number of serviceable tanks in the division sank
steadily despite only small losses due to enemy activity. By contrast, it should
be admitted that the PzKw 35t did possess certain advantages for operating
in Russian terrain, including light weight, good maneuverability, and the abil-
ity to cross bridges with a load capacity of only 8.5 tons.
Our antitank weapons were also generally inferior. In Panzerjaeger Bat-
talion 41 only one platoon in each of the three companies had been issued
50mm antitank guns. The other platoons, as well as the antitank elements
of our motorized infantry regiments, were equipped only with towed, 37mm
antitank guns. The division did have at its disposal one 20mm flak battery
and one antitank rifle company. For the initial attack of the campaign, XLI
Panzer Corps had also attached II Battalion, Artillery Regiment 59 (150mm
howitzers), and II Battalion, Luftwaffe Flak Regiment 411 (20mm and
88mm flak).
In Panzer Reconnaissance Battalion 57 the division possessed an organic
reconnaissance unit that functioned extremely well and whose result proved
to be of the utmost importance to our conduct of operations. Unfortu-
nately, shortly before we reached Leningrad, higher headquarters detached
this battalion from 6th Panzer Division, a measure that proved to be very
detrimental.
 12 PANZER OPERATIONS

Our knowledge of the Red Army in our sector was confined to reports
from higher headquarters. General Landgraf ordered reconnaissance by eye-
witnesses and agents during the last four days of our assembly, which re-
vealed Russian field fortifications in our sector and discovered enemy forces
of unknown strength on both sides of the Siline-Kangailai road. We also dis-
covered that the terrain in the Tauroggen area was extremely unsuitable for
the attack of a panzer division. The dense, swampy forest offered only one
practicable road. This meant that full deployment of the division could not
be contemplated before reaching Ervilkas, thirty-five kilometers east of the
border.
Just prior to the beginning of Operation Barbarossa, the 6th Panzer Divi-
sion, which had originally occupied the area around Deutsch Eylau and
Torun, assembled in the area around Osterode, Riesenburg, and Deutsch
Eylau. From this point the buildup for the attack proceeded in a succession
of four night marches. The assembly movements proved very difficult be-
cause of the sheer mass of troops in Army Group North that were ap-
proaching the border and their often-conflicting routes of march. Crossing
the Memel River turned out to be particularly difficult. Our lighter vehicles
crossed at Schreitlauken on an auxiliary bridge over which a test run had
only been driven at the last moment. Tanks and heavier vehicles moved
across the Memel bridge at Tilsit, which also had to be used by 1st Panzer
Division, so that two parallel columns converged at a single point. Never-
theless, the entire assembly succeeded without any major stoppages, with all
movements restricted to the hours of darkness and never allowed to extend
into the daytime.
The division had to organize a double-echeloned order of battle for the
final buildup and approach to the Lithuanian border. Advance elements
took up defensive positions through 21 June. We were permitted to occupy
the actual positions for the attack only during the night of 21-22 June. Be-
cause of these factors, General Landgraf organized the lead elements of the
division into two Kampfgruppen of different strength. On the right, the
weaker of the t w o — K a m p f g r u p p e von Seckendorff—received the mission of
leading the assault and opening the road to Kangailai. The more powerful
Kampfgruppe Raus on the left was to attack later, breaking through the
Russian border fortifications as quickly as possible and proceeding then as
ordered by division. In the evening of 21 June, division headquarters located
itself at Szugken.
The initial tactical organization of 6th Panzer Division for the attack on
22 June 1941 was:
 THE INVASION OF THE SOVIET UNION 13

Kampfgruppe von Seckendorff (Headquarters, Motorized Infantry Regi-

ment 114)
Lieutenant Colonel Erich Freiherr von Seckendorff
Motorized Infantry Regiment 114
Panzer Reconnaissance Battalion 57
one company, Panzerjaeger Battalion 41
Motorcycle Battalion 6 (morning only)

Kampfgruppe Raus (Headquarters, Motorized Brigade 6)

Colonel Erhard Raus
Panzer Regiment 11
I/Motorized Infantry Regiment 4
II/Artillery Regiment 76
one company, Panzer Engineer Battalion 57
one company, Panzerjaeger Battalion 41
one battery, II/Flak Regiment 411
Motorcycle Battalion 6 (afternoon)

Division Main Body

Major General Franz Landgraf
Staff, II and Ill/Motorized Infantry Regiment 4
Staff, I and Ill/Panzer Artillery Regiment 76
Panzer Engineer Battalion 57 (minus one company)
Panzerjaeger Battalion 41 (minus two companies)

Attached
II/Artillery Regiment 59
II/Flak Regiment 411 (minus one battery)

(Note that while the division continued to operate using the same two
Kampfgruppen, their composition changed often on a daily basis.)
Chapter 2

RASEINAI

The Campaign Opens

FOLLOWING AN A R T I L L E R Y P R E P A R A T I O N that began a t 0 3 0 5 , 2 2

June 1941, a Fieseler "Storch" liaison plane saw to it that a wooden machine-
gun tower outside of Siline was neutralized, after which 6th Panzer Division
crossed the Soviet border south of Tauroggen. Kampfgruppe von Seck-
endorff, assaulting through the village of Siline, succeeded relatively quickly
in clearing the road to Kangailai, though in the woods east of that town two
Russian companies put up a defense more tenacious than any so far seen in
the war. Our infantry eliminated the last of this resistance toward 1600 after
heavy fighting in the woods.
This obstacle notwithstanding, Kampfgruppe Raus launched and sus-
tained the division's main attack during the morning hours. The bridge
across the Sesuvis River at Kangailai fell into our hands, and we rapidly
broke isolated resistance in the open terrain around Meskai. Expected Russ-
ian counterattacks from the northern bank of the Sesuvis did not material-
ize, and my leading units reached Erzvilkas toward evening.
Increasing terrain difficulties delayed the advance of the division's main
body, especially holding back Kampfgruppe von Seckendorff on the left
wing, which was moving via Kuisiai. By nightfall our troops had been widely
scattered along the Siline-Meskai-Gaure-Erzvilkas road, but during the night
the Russians in the Sakaline area to the south showed little activity. General
Franz Landgraf moved division headquarters up to Meskai.

Ambush at Paislinis
On the second day of combat after the deep breakthrough at the frontier,
both Kampfgruppen quickly pushed east in order to prevent the enemy from
taking up positions along the Raseinai heights and to reach the important

14
 RASEINAI 15

20 AUGUST-
15 SEPTEMBER 41

6th PANZER DIVISION'S ADVANCE TO LENINGRAD

22 JUNE - 20 AUGUST 1941
 16 PANZER OPERATIONS

Dubyssa sector. The 6th Panzer Division received the assignment of occupy-
ing the Lithuanian town of Raseinai, after which the division was to press on
to the east in order to seize the two vehicular bridges across the Dubyssa
River beyond the towns at Betygala and Kybaryteliai. Proceeding in the di-
rection of Raseinai, we found that the Russian infantry, which we had over-
taken the day before, had now apparently disappeared.
Our troops drove at speed along all available roads and highways, the
panzer and artillery columns rolling relentlessly ahead, prepared to crush
everything opposing them. Far to the front, clouds of dust finally appeared
on the horizon. "The enemy after all," many a man thought, as the speed of
the advance picked up. Up to this point no shots had been fired. Fighter
planes circled peacefully in the sky by themselves; not a single Soviet aircraft
had risen to challenge them. The beauties of the landscape still spread before
us in the soft light of the morning sun. Rather than the second day of a great
war, the large-scale forward movement of the 6th Panzer Division resembled
a peaceful march to the starting position of a field maneuver.
Suddenly a heavy barrage tore through the air. From the dust clouds still
visible on the horizon, black earth now spouted into the air. Machine guns
began to chatter, and their fire penetrated the sound of the increasing bar-
rage. The landser [enlisted soldier], now covered with dust, wondered what
could be happening up front. The column commanders already knew the an-
swer. Much earlier, our advance detachment (the cause of the dust clouds the
troops had been watching) had radioed that strong Russian forces had been
found occupying the heights south of Raseinai. These enemy elements lay
near the route of advance for Kampfgruppe von Seckendorff and spread in
front of the town like a protective bulwark.
In the distance, our troops could already discern the chapel spire that rep-
resented the highest point in Raseinai. All echelons advanced steadily and
without hesitation, as they had been assigned to support the advance de-
tachment in overcoming enemy resistance as rapidly as possible. In this case
the advance detachment had already attacked the Russians from the march
but had been too weak to defeat them. Major Linbrunn's Reconnaissance
Battalion 57, which had been subordinated to Major Schliekmann's Motor-
cycle Battalion 6, had quickly reconnoitered the local situation. Shortly
thereafter, the bulk of Kampfgruppe von Seckendorff, which was ahead of
Kampfgruppe Raus, entered the engagement. Under the protection of
friendly artillery fire, Motorized Infantry Regiment 114 and the panzer bat-
talion attached to it moved to attack across ground that had already been
thoroughly plowed up by our own shells.
After a severe struggle Colonel von Seckendorff's troops seized an advance
ridge against strong opposition, but the Russians—having built their main
 RASEINAI 17

battle line on the reverse slope—had no intentions of relinquishing the key

point in their defense. The fight for this position lasted more than two hours,
primarily because the completely open nature of the terrain made attacking
difficult. In addition, our artillery lacked sufficient ammunition, and the
panzers had to pick their way through swamps and forests in order to take
the enemy in his flanks and rear.
The protracted length of this struggle made it even more important for my
command (which had started out on the same road as Kampfgruppe Seck-
endorff but had left the road at Erzvilkas in order to reach Raseinai by the
shortest route) to arrive before Raseinai in time to seize the town with a co-
ordinated attack by both groups. The final segment of this route followed a
narrow dirt trail leading along Blyna Brook through a somewhat marshy
forested area in which visibility was severely limited. East of Paislinis, the ter-
rain changed into open meadowland covered with large fruit trees.
To this point Kampfgruppe Raus had not met any enemy resistance, but
no sooner had our leading company moved into the open country than its
left flank came under rifle and machine-gun fire delivered from very close
range. The first victim of the ambush was the company commander, who
was driving at the head of his column. Before he even had time to shout an
order, he was shot through the forehead by a Russian sniper from a distance
of at least 100 meters. Even without his direction, the company dismounted
at lightning speed and returned fire, while the panzers assigned to the lead
company rolled ahead quickly, firing into the thickets and holding the enemy.
Unfortunately, the lead tank soon received a direct hit from an antitank gun
and dropped out. Shortly thereafter the two following companies of the ad-
vance guard penetrated the forest and attacked the Russians in their flank
and rear with small arms. The enemy's destruction seemed certain, but the
troops storming into the attack could make little headway through the dens-
est part of the thicket of the young forest and thus were unable to cut off the
Russians' retreat to the north.
Although only a company, beset by a force outnumbering itself three-to-
one, the enemy managed to escape. Moreover, since the Soviets operated
with full cover, their losses were small. We captured several weapons, among
them a 37mm antitank gun of German origin. This appeared to be the
weapon that damaged our tank at a distance of about fifty meters; the crew
had apparently been killed by the fire of our other tanks while attempting to
flee.
Though the predicament of our leading elements, caught by an ambush in
open terrain, had looked critical at first, our casualties turned out to be light,
consisting only of a few wounded and the very capable company commander
who had been killed. Fire from the thicket, which was unsteady and whizzed
 18 PANZER OPERATIONS

harmlessly over our heads, did not account for our casualties. These resulted
almost exclusively from snipers, concealed in the tops of the fruit trees and
aiming at their targets from close quarters. These snipers remained in their
hiding places even after the main body of the enemy withdrew, looking for
worthwhile victims—primarily officers. Some of these men held to their po-
sitions even after our panzers stopped directly beneath their trees and began
to fire into the fringes of the forest.
As long as the snipers fired during the height of the battle, they remained
unnoticed, and it was not until they continued firing after the noise had died
away that we discovered them and brought them down with machine-gun
fire. The last of them tried vainly to flee, but immediately spotted in the
open, they were killed by the fire of the nearest machine gun before they
managed to reach the cover of the forest. Snipers in the trees of a forest were
no novelty to our troops, but here, for the first time, they had been found in
fruit trees in the open, where no one expected them. Though doomed, they
had executed their mission. They had carried it out regardless of the fact that
their lives were being forfeited. That willingness to die was one of the new
experiences in the ambush at Paislinis.
Unmistakably, the Russians had employed a systematically planned am-
bush to delay the rapid advance of the strong Kampfgruppe Raus, since our
appearance at Raseinai would not only threaten the town but also the rear of
the strong forces fighting in the hills to the south. The Soviet commander had
skillfully chosen his ambush site: It was immediately adjacent to our line of
march, at a point where all of his weapons would be able to dominate our
flank. The location allowed him to place his snipers in the fruit trees, offered
full protection against early discovery, made a quick envelopment difficult,
and enabled his forces to withdraw from the attack unobserved. The plan to
have his snipers concentrate on eliminating our officers was especially clever.
The commander and his numerically weak unit could take pride in the suc-
cess of the ambush. It had forced our advance elements to interrupt their
rapid motorized progress and caused a delay of more than one half hour, as
well as inflicting the casualties enumerated above.
On the other hand, given the tactical situation outside Raseinai, Kampf-
gruppe Raus was justified in trying to use its vehicles as long as possible, in
order to bring about a quick decision in the battle outside the town. The risk
of a minor ambush had to be accepted. Dismounting and expending the time
to comb through the strips of woods for small enemy units or stragglers
would have led to a loss of time far out of proportion to any success we
might have hoped to gain. The actual loss of time in the ambush did not turn
out to be critical, however, as our leading elements reached the assembly area
 RASEINAI 19

for the planned attack on Raseinai on time, and the bulk of the troops fol-
lowed without delay.
The danger that several commanders might have simultaneously fallen
victim to such an ambush was prevented by previous training and repeated
orders that officers should not form groups. As usual, our officers had en-
deavored to be as far to the front as possible, in order to orient themselves
quickly at the outset of any engagement, enabling them to receive or issue or-
ders instantly. Including the fallen company commander, they had nearly all
joined the advance column but had dispersed themselves in such a manner
that they could take matters in hand immediately without presenting a large
target.
The ambush at Paislinis involved only a small unit and had no psycholog-
ical repercussions on our troops. All eyes remained focused on Raseinai,
which lay on the ridge in the bright noonday sun like a fortress dominating
the surrounding country. There, as well as in the countryside in front of the
town, the Russians had dug in so as to halt our panzers (which were already
approaching) and Motorized Infantry Regiment 114 (echeloned in depth and
following closely behind). The batteries of Colonel Grundherr's Panzer Ar-
tillery Regiment 76 had already begun hammering those enemy positions
that our observers had located, battering the reserves that were hurrying to
reinforce his line.
Simultaneously, Kampfgruppe von Seckendorff, which had been engaged
throughout in the hard fight on the height south of town, prepared to strike
a decisive blow. Its panzers had penetrated the Russian position and joined
those of Kampfgruppe Raus at Raseinai. Soon after, our combined groups
cleaned out the town and the surrounding ridges. Enemy resistance collapsed
very rapidly in the face of concentric attacks by all the forces of 6th Panzer
Division. Some courageous Red Army battalions still offered resistance to
Kampfgruppe Raus as we immediately thrust toward the bridge on the road
to Siluva. Our panzers overran them, however, after which our infantry dis-
persed them, storming individual pockets of resistance. Only a brief struggle
sufficed to eliminate them.
By early afternoon both Kampfgruppen had reached the objective for the
day: the two bridges across the Dubyssa, which we occupied after overcom-
ing minor resistance. Somewhat beyond Raseinai, these bridges lay fifty me-
ters below the level of the surrounding countryside. Our panzers traversed
the river first, by the aid of a derelict bridge, and cleared the area around Ky-
baryteliai. I then sent elements of Motorized Infantry Regiment 4 across the
northern bridge to form a bridgehead on the heights beyond, which was sup-
ported by several panzers which remained on the eastern bank of the river as
 20 PANZER OPERATIONS

a reserve. A few hours later, Colonel von Seckendorff also had dislodged the
Soviet rear guards and occupied the eastern bank of the Dubyssa at Betygala
with Motorcycle Battalion 6. After having covered fifty-five kilometers and
spent several hours in combat, 6th Panzer Division by evening had achieved
and consolidated the day's objectives. The setting sun cast a rosy glow, and
quiet prevailed even before twilight fell. Steaming field kitchens and everyone
not occupied with guard duty assembled around them to enjoy a well-
deserved hot meal, bringing a successful day to a happy conclusion.
The officers discussed the actions of the day and made preparations for
the following morning. But we also reflected upon the accomplishments of
the Russians as well, and many verbally expressed their astonishment that
the same infantry that had faced them the day before, south of Tauroggen
where they had been overrun at noon and left far behind, could have covered
seventy-five kilometers on foot within twenty-four hours. These Red Army
soldiers had not only conducted a grueling forced march in the absence of
proper roads but had again immediately prepared defensive positions and
fought stubbornly for several hours without any rest. This fact put a damper
on their joy in the day's victory, for it had instantly become apparent that
Germany had engaged a stubborn opponent who might well lose ground but
never accept defeat. The next day only confirmed the accuracy of these ob-
servations. During the night, our troops widened and improved both bridge-
heads without incident in order to facilitate continuation of the offensive.
The arrival of the division's main body was considerably delayed because
the 269th Infantry Division, which XLI Panzer Corps was moving north by
way of Erzvilkas, continually crossed 6th Panzer Division's route of march.
Meanwhile, Luftwaffe reconnaissance flights revealed strong Soviet armored
forces (exceeding 200 tanks) arriving from the Jonava-Kadainiai area, and
pivoting west toward Kroki. Such movements could obviously be directed
only against 6th Panzer Division's spearhead elements, which had advanced
farthest in the direction of the critical town of Siauliai, since the success of
LVI Panzer Corps's attack to the south was not yet known. The same recon-
naissance flights also reported general troop withdrawals from the border
areas toward the northeast. It could therefore be assumed that those Russian
tanks had the assignment of halting XLI Panzer Corps's advance in order to
facilitate an unhampered withdrawal by the enemy's main forces. Division
headquarters received continuous information from aerial reconnaissance
about the relatively rapid progress of the Russian tanks. He knew by the
morning of 24 June that the enemy armored force, upon reaching Kroki, had
split into two columns, obviously directed against Kybaryteliai and Betygala.
General Landgraf tried to move substantial reinforcements from the divi-
sion's main body toward Raseinai as quickly as possible to reinforce the two
 RASEINAI 21

forward Kampfgruppen and prevent the Soviets from crossing the Dubyssa.
This plan could not be carried out as intended because of the continuing
congestion in Erzvilkas, where the advance of 6th Panzer Division was now
entangled not only with the 269th Infantry Division but elements of the 1st
Panzer Division as well. Not only did this mean that Colonel von Seck-
endorff and I would not be immediately reinforced, but also that we would
not have timely support available on our flanks. General Landgraf was par-
ticularly worried about the right flank of the advance at Betygala, where the
269th Infantry was to have been employed. Instead, the 269th Infantry was
still northeast of Erzvilkas and the 1st Panzer Division apparently advancing
in the highway toward Kelme. Obviously the spearhead elements of 6th
Panzer Division would have to bear at least the initial brunt of the enemy at-
tack alone.
Unfortunately, it proved impossible to get word of this enemy maneuver
forward to the spearhead Kampfgruppen in a timely manner. Thus, when
dawn arrived, I received no orders to continue the advance, though I knew it
might arrive at any time, for it was only necessary to press a button and the
war machinery would starting running again within a few minutes. We won-
dered if our high command had become aware of Russian movements or in-
tentions that had upset our own plans. Perhaps, but to all appearances such
an occurrence seemed unlikely.

First Attack of Russian Heavy Tanks

No sooner had the sun begun to send forth its first rays, however, than sud-
denly the roar of artillery became audible from the south. The intensity of
this fire increased, volley after volley of shells bursting in the southern
bridgehead held by Kampfgruppe von Seckendorff. Even the houses in Ra-
seinai trembled as windowpanes rattled in their frames. The sound of the
barrage and the explosion of the shells made it clear that the Russians were
preparing to attack in force. Regrettably, the area east of Raseinai was too
flat and too overgrown for our observers to determine what was happening
in the adjacent bridgehead, six kilometers distant, but we soon heard the ar-
tillery supporting Colonel Seckendorff's troops commence firing in response
to the Soviet barrage. These sounds of battle had lasted approximately
twenty minutes when the heavy sounds of guns and machine-gun fire added
themselves to the crescendo. The trained ear of the veteran panzer soldier im-
mediately recognized that tank-to-tank fighting had begun.
The sound of the fighting slowly shifted to the west, not at all a good sign.
An inquiry to division headquarters confirmed our fear that Kampfgruppe
Seckendorff was under heavy attack. We later discovered that our troops in
 22 PANZER OPERATIONS

the southern bridgehead faced the 2nd Tank Division of the III Mechanized
Corps, whose objective was to recapture Raseinai and dislodge 6th Panzer
Division from the plateau. What placed Colonel Seckendorff and his men in
such a precarious position was not so much the numerical superiority of the
enemy but the totally unexpected appearance of colossal tanks against which
German panzers and antitank guns seemed to have no effect. These tanks
were the super-heavy Russian model KV-1, the most dangerous heavy tank
they possessed until the very end of the war (later improved and designated
the KV-2).
Soon after the beginning of the heavy artillery exchange, these tanks at-
tacked and pierced the positions of Motorcycle Battalion 6 in the extended
bridgehead. Major Schliekmann fell in this fighting. The KV-1s ran over
and crushed not just motorcycles but even some of our seriously wounded
soldiers, forcing the battalion to withdraw under heavy pressure to the
western bank of the Dubyssa. We later discovered that all of the wounded
and captured soldiers left behind on the eastern bank of the river were mur-
dered and mutilated.
Now covered by the main body of Kampfgruppe von Seckendorff, the mo-
torcycle battalion turned and prepared to offer stubborn resistance. At this
point Colonel von Seckendorff still hoped to hold the western bank, until the
giant tanks traversed the river without apparent difficulty and began rum-
bling up the bank. Even the concentrated fire of the artillery and all other
heavy weapons his troops possessed did not deter the steel pachyderms.
Though enveloped in fire and smoke, they immediately lumbered to attack,
crushing everything in their paths. Untroubled by the shower of heavy how-
itzer shells and debris raining down upon them, they attacked a roadblock,
shrugged off the flanking fire of our antitank guns in the woods, turned and
overran those positions, and then broke into the artillery area.
About 100 tanks from Colonel Richard Koll's Panzer Regiment 11, one-
third of which were PzKw IVs, now assembled for a counterattack. Some of
them faced the Russian behemoths from the front, but the bulk made their
assault from the flanks. From three sides their shells hammered against the
steel giants, but the effort to destroy them was made in vain. On the other
hand, our own panzers very soon began taking casualties, and after a long,
futile struggle against the Russian giants, Colonel Koll's vehicles had to
withdraw into covering terrain to escape destruction.
To make matters worse, II Battalion, Motorized Infantry Regiment 114,
which had been defending the woods west of the Dubyssa against the Soviet
infantry following in the wake of the KV-1s (a few of which had broken off
to support them), had by now suffered heavy casualties, particularly from ar-
tillery fire. As it became clear that no weapon possessed by Kampfgruppe
 RASEINAI 23

Seckendorff, not even our own panzers, was a match for the Russian monster
tanks, the danger of a general panic became imminent. Captain Quentin, the
battalion commander, reached the extraordinary decision to systematically
withdraw the bulk of his vacillating troops. Along with his company com-
manders and senior NCOs, Captain Quentin took over the machine guns
and held the battalion's defensive line against repeated Russian infantry at-
tacks. Despite the surprise achieved by the heavy tanks and withdrawal of the
bulk of the battalion, the enemy proved unable to force a penetration and fol-
low his armor forward toward Raseinai.
New Soviet tanks now entered the fray from the east, while the bulk of the
super-heavy tanks continued driving relentlessly forward despite the steady
fire of German artillery and panzers. The only tactical solution to this
dilemma was for Captain Quentin to let the second group of Russian tanks
overrun his defensive line, after which his detachment of officers and NCOs
would be able to escape toward the flanks if necessary and make contact with
the main body of Motorized Infantry Regiment 114—if it was still there.
Squatting in small trench positions, under road bridges and culverts, or in
grain fields, German soldiers awaited the approach of the second wave of
heavy tanks. Waiting became hell, as the long arm of our own artillery now
targeted these tanks, unaware that it was wounding our own troops as well.
Envied were those comrades who had succeeded in hiding underneath
bridges and in passageways, and therefore able to observe these events at
close range without being noticed by the enemy. Nearer and nearer rolled the
giant tanks, echeloned in width and depth. One of them encountered a
marshy pool in which a PzKw 35t had become mired. Without hesitating, the
black monster rolled over the helpless panzer. The same fate befell a German
150mm howitzer, which had not been able to escape in time. When the KV-
1s approached, the howitzer fired at them over open sights without causing
any damage at all. One of the tanks drove straight for the howitzer, which
now delivered a direct hit to its frontal armor. A glare of fire and simultane-
ously a thunderclap of the bursting shell followed, and the tank stopped as if
hit by lightning. "That's the end of that," the gunners thought as they took
a collective deep breath. "Yes, that fellow's had enough," observed the sec-
tion chief. Abruptly, their faces dropped in disbelief when someone ex-
claimed, "It's moving again!" Indeed, the tank advanced again, chains rat-
tling loudly, and crashed into the heavy gun as if it were nothing more than
a toy, pressing it into the ground and crushing it with ease as if this were an
everyday affair. The heavy howitzer was finished, though the crew fortu-
itously escaped without harm.
Since the beginning of this action, Colonel von Seckendorff had been be-
seeching division headquarters for aid, but General Landgraf had no further
 24 PANZER OPERATIONS

means to send him after our panzers had proven ineffective. The message
came back that everything depended on holding the line until XLI Panzer
Corps could take steps to provide additional support, which Colonel von
Seckendorff was initially told could not be expected until the following day
(25 June). He then raised the question as to whether the moral strength of his
officers and men would hold out that long and avoid a panicky disintegra-
tion under the impact of this apparently unstoppable tank attack. The prob-
lem was that 6th Panzer Division's reports of the fighting had met initially
with considerable skepticism at XLI Panzer Corps headquarters, where the
impression seemed to prevail that General Landgraf and Major Joachim von
Kielmansegg had lost their nerve. Following a visit to the front by General
Georg-Hans Reinhardt, however, during which he quickly concluded that a
genuine crisis had arisen, he promised the immediate attachment of several
batteries of 88mm flak, which had thus far been committed in an antiaircraft
role around Tauroggen. At this point everyone supposed that only the 88mm
flak guns would prove equal to the challenges of these fifty-two-ton tanks.
The Russian tanks had scarcely suffered any damage from Panzer Regi-
ment 11's brief counterattack, but they had been forced to stop and disperse
to repel it, thus losing the impetus of attack. Some of the KV-1s seemed un-
comfortable in their isolation from supporting infantry and began to pull
back. This momentary grace period allowed Colonel von Seckendorff to pull
his own troops, including Captain Quentin's detachment, back into a new
defensive position around Hill 106 and to begin reorganizing his shaken bat-
talions. He pressed all branches of the combat arms into service for his anti-
tank defense. His sole advantage at this point was the fact that the apparent
invulnerability of the KV-1 had been disproved by the direct fire of a 100mm
battery, which had finally succeeded in finishing off some of the monsters at
point-blank range. At about the same time, Lieutenant Eckhardt, of the 6th
Company of Captain Quentin's battalion, immobilized another KV-1 with a
concentrated charge of five antitank mines. Like wildfire the word now
spread through the ranks that these tanks could be destroyed; not only did
our troops take heart, but the Russian tanks became more cautious (and cor-
respondingly less dangerous), which greatly aided our defense.
Around 1500 the commander of the most advanced 88mm flak battery re-
ported to division headquarters, where he was greeted with great relief. Gen-
eral Landgraf personally led this unit forward to be committed against the
Soviet tanks.
Eventually the Russians assembled their entire force in the wooded areas
and grain fields, then began a decisive tank drive against Hill 106, employing
a mass formation of super-heavy tanks. No sooner had the steel giants left
 RASEINAI 25

their shelter than our 88mm flak and the 100mm battery met them with vol-
leys of armor-piercing shells. Well camouflaged and sited in staggered posi-
tions, these weapons quickly destroyed a number of Soviet tanks and brought
their attack to a standstill. Rising columns of smoke from the burning tanks
spread the word of our defensive victory far and wide. Later disjointed at-
tempts by the remaining Russians to pierce or outflank Colonel von Seck-
endorff's defensive positions met the same fate; nor could the local attacks
by cooperating Soviet infantry turn the tide. Now thoroughly exhausted by
three days of forced marches and heavy fighting, the Russian infantry no
longer possessed the ability to effect a breakthrough. This was, it should be
remembered, the same infantry that had faced 6th Panzer Division on the
first day of the war, and it had not received any special training for work in
conjunction with tank formations.
Motorcycle Battalion 6 and Motorized Infantry Regiment 114 were par-
ticularly severely tested in this engagement. To be attacked by surprise by un-
usually heavy tanks, to have their defenses twice penetrated and overrun
without having any weapons able to halt or destroy the enemy, demands
more than can reasonably be expected of even battle-tested veterans. The
cool behavior of the troops must be prized even higher when one realizes that
they had never before been overrun by enemy tanks. In the later stages of the
Russian campaign, rifle formations integral to the panzer divisions no longer
faced the problem of being run over in shelter holes by Soviet tanks.
As always in critical situations, so in this case the iron discipline of the
troops, the spirit and morale of battle-tested, well-trained commanders and
subordinate officers, decided the issue. These men did not depend on out-
moded rules and instructions but knew how to act decisively in situations not
covered in the regulations or beyond their personal experience. Their success
confirmed the suitability of the measures taken. The troops who survived
this experience with unbroken courage and few losses would again and again
prove their excellent spirit in the engagements that followed.
The period of 6th Panzer Division's isolation at Raseinai had also passed,
since the 269th Infantry Division had arrived to take up position on Colonel
von Seckendorff's right flank, and next to it the 290th Infantry Division of LVI
Panzer Corps had also been moved up. The 1st Panzer Division had been di-
verted from its advance on Kelme and had seized a bridgehead over the
Dubyssa at Lydavenai to the north, and the 36th Motorized Division was also
approaching from the general direction of Kelme. As Russian attacks against
Colonel von Seckendorff's front east of Raseinai ceased toward evening, Gen-
eral Reinhardt had succeeded in placing the elements of the XLI Panzer Corps
in position to encircle and annihilate the Soviet III Mechanized Corps.
 26 PANZER OPERATIONS

Isolated by a Single Tank!

The reader . . . must naturally wonder what Kampfgruppe Raus was doing
during the tank battle at Raseinai. Why did we not come to the aid of
Colonel Seckendorff's hard-pressed troops?
Nothing of any great importance occurred in our sector. The troops im-
proved their positions, reconnoitered in the direction of Siluva and on the
eastern bank of the Dubyssa in both directions, and chiefly attempted to find
out what was happening in the area south of the bridge. We encountered
only scattered enemy units and individual stragglers. In the course of these
efforts we made contact with the outlying elements of both Kampfgruppe
von Seckendorff and the 1st Panzer Division at Lydavenai. Upon cleaning out
the wooded area west of the friendly bridgehead, some of our infantry en-
countered a stronger Russian infantry force, still holding out in two places on
the western bank of the Dubyssa.
Contrary to procedure, some prisoners captured during these local oper-
ations, among them a Red Army lieutenant, had been transported to the
rear by motor vehicle in a group, under the guard of a single NCO. Halfway
back to Raseinai the driver suddenly saw an enemy tank in the road and
stopped. At that moment the Russian prisoners—about twenty of them—
unexpectedly attacked the driver and the NCO. The NCO had been stand-
ing next to the driver, facing the prisoners, when they attempted to seize
both men's weapons. The Soviet lieutenant had already reached for the
NCO's submachine gun when the latter managed to free one arm and strike
him such a heavy blow that he staggered back, dragging with him the clos-
est prisoners. Before the prisoners on either side were able to tackle the
NCO again, he had—with the power of an athlete—torn free his left arm
from the three men who held him, so that he momentarily had both arms
free. With lightning speed he braced his submachine gun against his hip and
fired into the mutinous crowd. The effect of this burst was horrendous:
Only a few prisoners besides the wounded officer succeeded in leaping out
of the vehicle to escape into the forest. The rest had been mowed down in
seconds. The vehicle, now emptied of living prisoners, wheeled around and
reached the bridgehead safely, in spite of having been fired on by the tank
during the fight.
This little drama was my first indication that our bridgehead's only sup-
ply route had been blocked by a super-heavy KV-1, which had also somehow
managed to sever our telephone connection with division headquarters. Al-
though enemy intentions were as yet unclear, we had to expect an attack
against the rear of our position. I immediately ordered Lieutenant Wengen-
roth's 3rd Battery, Panzerjaeger Battalion 41, brought into position near a flat
 RASEINAI 27

hilltop in the vicinity of 6th Motorized Brigade's command post, which also
served as headquarters for the entire Kampfgruppe. In order to reinforce our
antitank defense, I also had a field howitzer battery stationed in the area turn
its gun tubes 180 degrees to the south. Lieutenant Gebhardt's 3rd Company,
Panzer Engineer Battalion 57, was directed to block the road and the imme-
diately surrounding countryside with mines if necessary. Our attached panz-
ers, half of Major Schenk's Panzer Battalion 65, which had been stationed in
the forest, were told to organize and be prepared to launch a counterattack
on a moment's notice.
Hours passed, but the enemy tank blocking the road hardly moved,
though it sporadically fired in the direction of Raseinai. At noon on 24 June
the scouts I had dispatched to reconnoiter the vicinity of the giant tank re-
ported that they could not locate any nearby concentrations of Red Army
troops or vehicles that might suggest an impending attack. The officer com-
manding this detachment concluded that the most logical explanation was
that the unit to which the single tank belong was probably engaged in the
fight against Kampfgruppe von Seckendorff.
Even though there thus appeared to be no danger of immediate attack,
steps had to be taken at once to destroy this annoying tank, or at least to
drive it away. Its fire had already set ablaze twelve trucks on their way from
Raseinai with much-needed supplies. Nor was it possible to evacuate the sol-
diers wounded in fighting around the bridgehead to the medical aid stations,
the consequence of which was that several severely wounded men (among
them a young lieutenant who had received a point-blank shot in the ab-
domen) died in their ambulances because an operation to save their lives
could not be carried out in time. All attempts to drive around the tank proved
futile; either the vehicles became mired in the mud or, in making a wider de-
tour, ran afoul of the scattered Russian units still lurking in the woods.
I therefore ordered Lieutenant Wengenroth's battery (newly equipped
with 50mm antitank guns) to work its way through the woods to effective
range of the tank and to destroy it. The battery commander and his brave
soldiers had beamed with joy at this honorable mission and had set to work
full of confidence that they would quickly be able to carry it out. From the
command post atop the hill we followed their progress as they slipped from
hollow to hollow through the woods. (Nor were we alone. Dozens of soldiers
clambered onto roofs, climbed to the tops of trees, or perched on piles of
wood, waiting with rapt attention for the outcome of this adventure.) Every-
one saw the first gun approach to within 1,000 meters of the tank, which
stood plainly visible in the middle of the road but did not seem to have no-
ticed the threat. A second gun, which had been out of sight for some time,
suddenly emerged from the last hollow in front of the tank and took up a
 28 PANZER OPERATIONS

well-camouflaged firing position. Within another thirty minutes the remain-

ing two guns had been manhandled into similar positions.
As we watched from the crest of the hill, someone suggested that perhaps
the tank had been damaged and subsequently deserted by its crew, since lit-
tle else could account for it simply squatting motionless in the road, a per-
fect target. (The ridicule to be received from one's fellows, after having spent
hours jockeying into position to finish off a dead tank, can be imagined.)
Suddenly the first round flashed forth from one of the antitank guns, tracing
a trajectory like a silver ray dead into the target. In no time the armor-pierc-
ing shell had covered the intervening 600 meters. A glare of fire appeared, fol-
lowed by the sound of a violent impact. A direct hit! A second and then a
third shot followed.
Officers and troops alike cheered and shouted as if spectators at a shoot-
ing match. "A hit! Bravo! The tank's been polished off!" The tank did not
move until it had been pelted by at least eight direct hits. Then its turret ro-
tated, it took careful aim, and methodically silenced our antitank battery
with a few 80mm shells. Two of our 50mm guns were shot to pieces, and the
remaining two seriously damaged. The battery suffered dead and wounded;
Lieutenant Wengenroth had to withdraw the balance of his personnel into
safe cover in order to avoid further losses. Only after night fell did he man-
age to recover his guns. The Russian tank still commanded the road, undam-
aged, our operation having failed disastrously. Deeply depressed, Lieutenant
Wengenroth returned to the bridgehead with his soldiers. His newly intro-
duced weapon, in which he had felt absolute confidence, had proven com-
pletely inadequate against the monster tank. A general sense of disappoint-
ment fell over the entire Kampfgruppe.
A new way to master the situation would have to be found.
Among the weapons available to us, it was now clear that only an 88mm
flak gun, with its heavy armor-piercing shells, would be up to the task of de-
stroying the behemoth. That afternoon, one 88mm gun was withdrawn from
the fighting near Raseinai and cautiously advanced south toward the tank.
The KV-1 still faced north, the direction from which it had been previously
attacked. The long-barrel flak gun approached to within 2,000 meters of the
beast, a range from which satisfactory results should be guaranteed. Unfor-
tunately, some burned-out trucks, earlier victims of the monster tank, still lay
at the side of the road, obstructing the gun crew's line of sight. On the other
hand, these smoking wrecks offered camouflage behind which the gun could
be maneuvered closer to the target. Having been prepared with numerous
tree branches fastened to its exterior, the gun was manhandled cautiously
forward, in order not to warn the stationary tank.
 RASEINAI 29

Eventually the gun crew reached the fringe of the forest, which offered the
best visibility for a firing position, the distance to the tank having now been
reduced to 800 meters. The first shot, we thought, was therefore bound to be
a direct hit and would certainly destroy the offending tank. The crew began
setting up their piece to fire.
Though the tank had not moved since its encounter with the antitank bat-
tery, its crew was alert and its commander possessed of cool nerves. He had
observed the approaching gun without interfering, because as long as the flak
gun was in motion it could not endanger his tank. The closer it approached,
the more readily it could be destroyed. The critical moment for both adver-
saries in this small-scale duel arrived when the gun crew began final prepa-
rations to take up a firing position. Immediate action by the tank crew had
now become imperative. As the gunners, under extreme mental strain, strug-
gled to ready their weapon for firing, the tank swung its turret around, open-
ing fire first. Every shot hit the mark. Heavily damaged, the flak gun was
knocked into a ditch, where the crew had to abandon it. Again, the gun crew
took casualties. Machine-gun fire from the tank now prevented the recovery
of either the gun or the dead gunners.
The failure of this second attempt, which had begun with such high
hopes, was bad news. The optimism of the troops had been lost along with
the 88mm gun. Our soldiers spent a dismal day consuming canned food, as
no supplies could reach us.
A much greater anxiety, however, had been at least temporarily removed.
The Russian attack on Raseinai had by now been repelled by Kampfgruppe
von Seckendorff, which had made a successful stand at Hill 106. Thus the
danger that the bulk of the Soviet 2nd Tank Division might wheel around
into our rear, surrounding us, had been averted. Only the smaller but ex-
tremely annoying matter of driving off the monster tank from our supply
route remained. What could not be done by day, we thought, would have to
be accomplished at night. The brigade staff spent several hours discussing
every possibility for destroying the tank, and preparations commenced for
several different solutions.
The third solution involved having our combat engineers blow up the tank
during the night of 24—25 June. It must be admitted that our engineers had
inwardly relished the fact that the crew-served weapons had failed to destroy
the tank, for now they had the chance to upstage their comrades. When Lieu-
tenant Gebhardt asked for twelve volunteers to raise their hands, all 120 men
put their hands in the air. In order not to offend anyone, every tenth man was
chosen. The twelve lucky ones waited impatiently for night to fall. Explosives
and all necessary equipment had already been prepared. Lieutenant Geb-
 30 PANZER OPERATIONS

hardt, who intended to lead the mission personally, oriented every man in de-
tail with respect to the general mission, the plan of action, and his individ-
ual role. At the head of this confident column, their lieutenant marched off
just after dark. The road led east past Hill 123 on a little-used sandy path to
a projecting tip of the strip of woods in which the tank was located, then
through a sparsely wooded region to the old assembly area.
The pale light of the stars twinkling in the sky was sufficient to reveal the
contours of the nearest trees, the road, and the tank. Avoiding any noise that
might give them away, barefoot scouts crept to the edge of the road and ex-
amined the tank from close quarters to select the best avenue of approach.
The Russian giant stood placidly at the same spot, its turret shut. Complete
calm reigned far and wide, interrupted only occasionally by a short flash of
light cutting through the air, a dull thundering close behind. At times ran-
dom enemy shells whizzed past, bursting in the area near the fork of the road
north of Raseinai. These were the last rumblings from a day of hard fighting
to the south, and around midnight the harassing fire on both sides ceased
completely.
Suddenly, a crashing and snapping sounded in the forest on the other side
of the road. Whispering, ghostlike figures moved toward the tank. Had the
crew gotten out? There followed knocks against the turret, whereupon the
hatch lifted, and something was passed upward. Judging from the soft click-
ing noise, it must have been bowls of food. The scouts immediately passed
the word back to Lieutenant Gebhardt, who was besieged by whispered ques-
tions: "Shall we rush them and capture them? They seem to be civilians." The
temptation was great, for this probably would have been easily accom-
plished. Yet the tank crew remained in the turret, obviously awake, and such
an attack would have alarmed them, risking ruin for the entire enterprise. Re-
gretfully, Lieutenant Gebhardt decided that it was out of the question. As a
result of this unanticipated episode, another hour of waiting had to pass
until the civilians (partisans?) had departed.
In the meantime, the tank and its surroundings were even more carefully
reconnoitered. At 0100 hours the engineers got down to work, as the crew of
the tank slept in their turret with no idea of what was happening. After an
explosive charge had been attached to the caterpillar track and the tank's
thick side-armor, the patrol withdrew and lit the fuse. Seconds later, a loud
explosion tore the night air. The mission had been carried out, and their suc-
cess appeared decisive. Yet no sooner had the echoes of the explosion died
out than the machine gun of the tank burst into action, its fire sweeping the
near vicinity over and over again. The tank itself did not move. Presumably
its caterpillar track had been destroyed, but no direct examination was pos-
sible while the machine gun continued firing wildly in every direction. Lieu-
 RASEINAI 31

tenant Gebhardt and his patrol, therefore, returned to the bridgehead quite
dejectedly, none too sure of their success and also forced to report one man
missing. Attempts to find him in the darkness would have proven useless.
Shortly before dawn a second, though smaller, explosion was heard from
the area of the tank, for which no one could think of an explanation. The ve-
hicle's machine gun again swept the surrounding terrain for several minutes.
Then everything became calm again.
Shortly thereafter, as the day began to dawn, the rays of the golden morn-
ing sun bathed the forests and fields in light. Thousands of dewdrops glit-
tered on flowers and grass, and the first birds began to sing. The soldiers
stretched their limbs inside their tents and rubbed the sleep from their eyes.
A new day had come.
The sun had not risen too high in the sky when a barefoot soldier, his
boots hanging over his arm, walked past the brigade command post. It was
his apparent misfortune that I, the brigade commander, first spotted him and
summoned him over sharply. As the anxious wanderer stood before me, I
asked in clear language for an explanation of his morning walk in such
strange attire. Was he a passionate follower of Father Kneip? If so, such an
enthusiasm was surely out of place here. (Father Kneip had been the nine-
teenth-century founder of a "back to nature" movement for physical health,
icy baths, sleep under the stars, etc.)
Very embarrassed, the solitary walker confessed the reason for his guilt.
Every word from this taciturn delinquent had to be extracted through severe
questioning. As each answer was given, however, my face brightened. After
some ten minutes of such questioning, I offered this lonely adventurer a
morning cigarette, which he accepted with great embarrassment. Finally,
with a smile, I patted him on the shoulder and shook his hand in parting. A
strange turn, thought the curious onlookers, who had only been able to ob-
serve our conversation from a distance, without hearing what had been said.
What could the barefoot boy have possibly done to find favor so quickly? It
certainly could not have been anything trivial. I did not satisfy their curios-
ity until the brigade order of the day published an extract of the report that
the young engineer had given me:

I was the listening sentry and lay in a ditch close to the Russian tank. When
everything was ready, I and the company commander attached a demoli-
tion charge that was twice as strong as the regulations provided to the
caterpillar track of the tank, returned to the ditch, and lit the fuse. Since
the ditch was deep enough to offer protection against splinters, I waited
there to see the effect of the explosion. The tank, however, repeatedly cov-
ered the fringe of the forest and the ditch with its fire after the explosion,
 32 PANZER OPERATIONS

and more than an hour passed before things calmed down again. I then
crept to the tank and examined its caterpillar track at the place where 1 had
attached the charge. Hardly half of its width had been destroyed. I could
not find any other damage to the tank.
When I returned to the assembly point of the combat patrol, it had de-
parted already. While looking for my shoes, which I had left there, I found
another demolition charge that had been left behind. I took it, returned to
the tank, climbed on it barefooted, and fastened the charge to the gun bar-
rel in the hopes of at least destroying this. It was not large enough to do
any greater damage. I crept under the tank and detonated the charge.
Upon this explosion, the tank immediately covered the forest fringe and
ditches with its fire again. The fire did not cease until dawn, and not until
then could I crawl out from underneath the tank. Inspecting the effect of
this demolition, I saw to my regret that the charge I had found had been
too small. The gun barrel was only slightly damaged. On arrival at the as-
sembly point, I tried to put on the boots but discovered that they were too
small and did not belong to me. One of my comrades must have changed
boots by mistake. That is why I returned barefoot and too late.

This was truly the tale of a brave man.

Despite his efforts, however, the tank still blocked the road, firing and
moving about as if nothing had happened. The fourth solution, set for the
morning of 25 June, was to request Ju87 "Stuka" dive-bombers to attack the
tank. This could not be executed because the aircraft were urgently needed
elsewhere, and—even if available—whether they would have succeeded in de-
stroying the tank by a direct hit remains an open question. We could be sure
that the stubborn occupants of the steel giant would never have been chased
away by near-misses.
Now the tank had to be eliminated by any means possible. The fighting
power of the bridgehead garrison would become seriously endangered if the
road remained blocked. Nor would the division be able to carry out its as-
signed missions. I therefore decided to put into effect our plan of last resort,
a scheme that involved the potential loss of men, tanks, and other weapons
to an extent that could not be accurately forecast. My intention, however,
was to mislead the enemy and thus keep our own losses to a minimum. We
planned to divert the attention of Russian KV-1 through a feint attack by
Major Schenk's panzers while bringing up another 88mm flak gun to the de-
stroy the monster. The terrain around the tank suited this purpose well, mak-
ing possible a close approach to the tank and providing observation positions
from the higher wooded area to the east of the road. Since the forest was
sparse, consisting only of small trees, our mobile PzKw 38ts could move
about quickly in all directions.
 RASEINAI 33

Panzer Battalion 65 soon arrived and started hammering at the tank from
three sides. The crew of the KV-1 was visibly nervous. The turret repeatedly
swung around to catch one or another of the pesky, smaller German tanks
with its gun as they slipped past, firing at it through narrow gaps in the
woods. But the Russians were always too late; no sooner had a German tank
been located than it had already disappeared. The KV-1's crew knew that
their tank's thick armor, which resembled elephant hide, would shrug off our
shells, but the crew had ambitions of destroying the annoying tormentors
without leaving the road unguarded.
Fortunately for us, in their eagerness the Russian crewmen overlooked the
security of their rear, from which direction disaster was approaching. The
flak gun had already taken up a position beside the one that had been
knocked into the ditch on the preceding afternoon. Its powerful tube pointed
at the tank, and the first shot thundered away. Wounded, the KV-1 still tried
to swing its turret to the rear, but the gunners managed to get off two more
shots in the meantime. The turret stopped moving, but the tank had not been
set afire as we confidently expected. Though the vehicle no longer reacted to
our fire, after nearly two days it seemed too early to be certain of success.
Four additional armor-piercing shells from the 88mm flak gun tore into the
beast. Its gun, which had been hit seven or eight times, now rose into the air,
yet the tank itself stood motionless in the road, as if it meant—even now—
not to give up the blockade.
The witnesses to this exciting duel were now eager to ascertain the effect
of their fire. Great was their surprise when they found that only two shots
had pierced the armor, and five other shots of our 88mm flak gun had only
made deep dents. We further discovered eight blue spots made by the new
50mm antitank guns. The result of the attack of the engineer patrol con-
sisted of damage to the caterpillar track and a slight dent in the gun barrel.
No traces of fire from the 37mm guns of our PzKw 38ts could be found. Dri-
ven by curiosity, the small "Davids," climbing up on the fallen "Goliath," in
vain tried to open the hatch of the turret. In spite of drawing, pushing, and
hammering, they did not succeed.
Suddenly the gun barrel started to move again, and our soldiers dispersed
in amazement. Quickly, the engineers took hand grenades and pushed them
into the hole produced by the hit at the lower part of the turret. A dull ex-
plosion sounded, and the hatch lid flew open. In the interior of the tank lay
the bodies of the brave crewmen, who before had apparently only fainted.
Deeply moved by such heroism, we buried the dead with all honors. Their
fight to the last breath was a small heroic drama on the part of the enemy.
After having been blockaded for nearly two days by a single heavy tank,
the road was now open, and trucks began shuttling to the bridgehead with
ample supplies for further operations. The troops had full freedom of move-
 34 PANZER OPERATIONS

ment again and could participate in XLI Panzer Corps's concentric attack on
the Soviet III Mechanized Corps. While our own supply route was interdicted
it would have been a mistake to have intervened with insufficient means in
von Seckendorff's battle without being able to bring about a decision, unless
such a desperate act had been absolutely necessary. We could not run the risk
of expending all the ammunition on hand and being forced to face additional
Russian attacks completely defenseless.
The fact that division headquarters kept its nerves and that Kampfgruppe
von Seckendorff held out bravely during the most critical hours was now re-
warded. The 1st Panzer Division from Livadenai on the far left and the 269th
Infantry Division on the far right had commenced their concentric attacks
that morning. Events had developed well enough that neither the 290th In-
fantry nor the 36th Motorized Divisions were to be needed. The forward at-
tack by 6th Panzer Division was intentionally delayed, lest the enemy be pre-
maturely squeezed out of the pocket. Thus, by the time the offending tank
had been destroyed, Kampfgruppe Raus, by then reinforced by elements of
the 1st Panzer Division, broke out from its bridgehead and pushed south in
a spirited attack along the eastern bank of the Dubyssa River, cutting off the
retreat of the Soviet 2nd Tank Division. In 6th Panzer Division's sector alone,
125 Russian tanks were put out of action, including twelve or fourteen KV-
1s. Only a precipitous retreat with large equipment losses extricated the en-
tire III Mechanized Corps from destruction.
By early evening, the two-day battle with all of its surprises had come to
an end: a crowning German victory. The division regrouped that night, and
the forward elements prepared to continue the drive eastward on 26 June.
The blitzkrieg rolled on.
Chapter 3

TO THE RUSSIAN BORDER

Pursuit through the Baltic States

AFTER THE DEFEAT OF THE RUSSIAN armored reserves near

Raseinai, the armored units of the XLI Panzer Corps (of which the 6th
Panzer Division was a part) launched a thrust on 26 June through Lithuania,
Latvia, and Estonia toward Leningrad. The Soviets having sacrificed their
tanks to safeguard the withdrawal of the bulk of their armies on the frontier
toward the Dvina River, our advance was delayed only by terrain difficulties,
heat, and enormous clouds of dust. Even so, the troops, while passing
through this heavily forested region, still managed to find roads on which our
seemingly endless motor transport columns were able to travel at a more or
less swift pace. During the day our spearhead elements reached the Nevezis
sector near Raguva, while the division main body entered Ramygala by way
of Kroki-Surviliskis. Our leap forward on 27 June extended not quite so far,
in order to give the division main body a chance to close up, since the move-
ment of our supply and service units out of the Raseinai battlefield area had
been delayed. Forward elements reached the Sventoji River crossings at
Svedasai and Teraldziai, while the bulk of the division entered the Veinsintos
area. General Landgraf moved division headquarters up to Svedasai.
The enemy appeared to be in full flight. Typically, when the Russians had
been defeated on a broad front, they reestablished their lines only after they
had retreated a considerable distance. They marched very quickly, even when
retreating in extremely large numbers. Precisely at such times it was impor-
tant to pursue them energetically and to give them no opportunity for re-
newed resistance. The German conduct of delaying actions, with leapfrog
commitment of forces in successive positions, was apparently not known to
them, possibly because this method of fighting required great mobility and
competent leadership. The Soviets always sought only simple and complete
solutions. When they decided to withdraw, they did so in one jump and then

35
 36 PANZER OPERATIONS

immediately began an active defense again. When our panzer division, which
had torn through their lines, chased them off the roads, the Russians disap-
peared into the terrain with remarkable skill. In retreating, retiring from
sight, and rapidly reassembling, therefore, the Russians were already past
masters. Large forces covered long distances over terrain devoid of roads or
even paths. For example, south of Leningrad the 6th Panzer Division would
take prisoners from some of the same regiments of the 125th Rifle Division
that had first opposed us when we crossed the border at Tauroggen, having
withdrawn 500 miles to fight again.
Though no organized, large-scale enemy resistance existed, we learned
quite thoroughly that all-around defenses and security measures were an ab-
solute necessity, even during offensive operations. Dispersed Red Army forces
were continuously reassembling; our Kampfgruppen began forming the first
"hedgehog" defenses as protection against Russian surprise attacks at night.
Several houses or hay barns in a major clearing would be selected as the lo-
cation for the command post. Covered by thick underbrush, our tanks would
be placed in a wide circle around these buildings, with their guns ready to fire
at the edge of the woods. Immediately in front of the tanks was an outer ring
of infantry in foxholes and ditches or behind embankments that enabled the
tanks to fire over their heads. Security patrols and outposts formed the outer
cordon. The Russians recognized the strength of these protective measures
and did not dare carry out any surprise attacks they might have otherwise
planned. They resigned themselves to harassing the hedgehog area with tank
and machine-gun fire, sometimes accompanied by a few rounds of artillery.
Panzer Group 4 had originally forecast the Dvina River as our objective
for 28 June, but it was not yet clear whether 6th Panzer Division was to move
into the LVI Panzer Corps bridgehead at Daugapavils or reach a point on the
Dvina between Daugapavils and Jekabpils, which was 1st Panzer Division's
objective. The issue probably depended on whether or not 1st Panzer Divi-
sion would succeed in capturing the Dvina bridge at Jekabpils in a condition
as equally undamaged as 8th Panzer Division had seized the bridge at Dau-
gapavils. This was critical because the construction materials available to
XLI Panzer Corps would suffice to build only one bridge.
As a result of this situation and the nature of the road net leading toward
the Dvina, very much against General Landgraf's will the 6th Panzer Divi-
sion had to be deployed across an abnormally wide front. Kampfgruppe von
Seckendorff, on the right wing, was supposed to reach a ford (or possibly a
Russian military bridge) thought to exist northeast of Ilukste, just northwest
of Daugapavils. Kampfgruppe Raus, on the left wing, had the assignment of
attaining the river at Livani; thus the division's spearhead elements were sep-
arated by roughly sixty-five kilometers. The gap between them could be con-
 TO THE RUSSIAN BORDER 37

trolled only by patrols from Major Linnbrunn's Panzer Reconnaissance Bat-

talion 57. General Landgraf accepted this risk because he wanted to avoid
having the division squeezed into the Daugapavils bridgehead, and he thus
oriented the main body toward Livani. Due to recurring contact with weak
Russian forces (probably stragglers) in the Obeliai-Subbat area and to neces-
sary stoppages among the march columns, only advance reconnaissance pa-
trols actually reached the Dvina in accordance with our orders. They re-
ported that our side of the river was free of Soviet forces and that the
opposite bank seemed occupied only by local defenses.
Thus the Dvina River, the first major objective of the offensive, had been
reached on the seventh day of the attack. Except for the tank battle at Ra-
seinai—which had required unusual courage and endurance by the divi-
sion—no heavy fighting had occurred. The relatively large quantities of
booty seized were as noteworthy as the small number of prisoners taken.
Contrary to losses suffered by the Red Army, 6th Panzer Division's own
losses had so far been small. The loss of tanks and motor vehicles through
enemy action was also low—in fact, it was considerably smaller than losses
through mechanical defects. Even these losses, however, remained within nor-
mal proportions.
Faced only with weak enemy resistance, on 29 June Kampfgruppe Raus
established a Dvina River bridgehead ten kilometers deep at Livani, south of
the Dubna. The bridge over the Dubna at Livani had been destroyed, and our
scant supplies of bridging materials were needed elsewhere. This circum-
stance forced General Landgraf to waive the idea of seizing a second bridge-
head north of the Dubna, and he therefore limited Kampfgruppe von Seck-
endorff to mopping up the last Russian resistance west of the river around
Livani. Colonel von Seckendorff quickly captured the dominant Hill 104 east
of the town.
It became clear during the course of the day the XLI Panzer Corps would
be unable to supply the additional bridging materials that division head-
quarters had requested. General Reinhardt therefore ordered General Land-
graf to have those elements of the 6th Panzer Division that presumably could
not be ferried across the Dvina into the Livani bridgehead by the evening of
30 June to cross behind the 1st Panzer Division over the military bridge at
Jekabpils, which was currently under construction. Such a procedure would
have amounted to considerable loss of time; General Landgraf and Major
Joachim von Kielmansegg therefore decided to try improvising a bridge from
the available means in order to get the division's main body rapidly across the
rather fast-flowing river of at least 150 meters' width.
The bridge construction, organized by Lieutenant Colonel Erich Lehn-
ert's Panzer Engineer Battalion 57, was remarkable because the river was
 38 PANZER OPERATIONS

being spanned by a makeshift combination of four different construction

systems. All that the division possessed with which to work was one pon-
toon trestle bridge, one box girder bridge supported on pontoons and tres-
tles, one trestle bridge, and an auxiliary bridge built with captured barges.
Construction was slowed down but not decisively hindered by repeated
Russian bombing raids, though only the division's own light 20mm flak guns
were available to defend against them. By late afternoon on 30 June the en-
tire division, except for our PzKw Ills and IVs and the 150mm artillery bat-
talion, for which the load capacity did not suffice, had crossed over this
bridge. Lieutenant Colonel Lehnert's engineers had thus performed an out-
standing feat.
Our Livani bridgehead meanwhile was being systematically enlarged to-
ward Rudzeti and south of the town, so that the entire division could be as-
sembled on the northeast bank of the Dvina for the next thrust toward the
Latvian-Russian border. Weaker elements that had heretofore remained
northeast of Ilukste were now moved up. General Landgraf's decision to ad-
vance the bulk of the division to the Dvina at Livani had proven to be the
right choice.
As noted above, it was during the Dvina River crossings that the Russian
air force began to make a reappearance. Concentrations of bomber units
with escort fighters made their presence felt. Skillfully maneuvering, they hit
the bridges and crossing sites in surprise attacks. Coming in from the flanks
or from the rear, they harassed our troops crossing the river and were re-
sponsible for some losses. Overall, however, the XLI Panzer Corps's crossing
of the Dvina was neither stopped nor even delayed.
Even though time was of the essence as the Red Army pulled back toward
Leningrad, the Russians succeeded in carrying off large numbers of cattle, as
well as a substantial amount of equipment and supplies. In withdrawing they
did not hesitate to burn cities and towns to the ground, if it seemed that any
advantage was to be gained (this was Joseph Stalin's heralded "scorched-
earth" policy). All that remained as our troops marched in were ashes and
ruins; for that reason it even became difficult in many sectors to quarter our
larger headquarters organizations in locations that would ensure their abil-
ity to function. They also shot thousands of "undesirable" persons in the
Baltic countries before retreating and took other tens of thousands with
them.
During the first period of the war the Russians apparently sought to im-
press the German troops and lower their morale by committing numerous
atrocities upon them. The great number of such crimes, committed on all
sectors of the front, tends to support that presumption. For example, on 25
June 1941, two batteries of the 267th Infantry Division near Melniki (Army
 TO THE RUSSIAN BORDER 39

Group Center) were overrun in the course of a Russian night breakthrough

and bayoneted to the last man. Individual dead bore up to seventeen bayonet
wounds, among them even holes through the eyes. Several weeks later, while
combing a forest for enemy forces, a battalion of Infantry Regiment 465 was
attacked from all sides by Russian tree snipers and lost seventy-five dead and
twenty-five missing. When a follow-up attack secured the area, all of the
missing men were found to have been shot through the neck.
In the morning of 1 July, some elements of 6th Panzer Division were
again put in march, since our reconnaissance efforts had not thus far de-
tected any Russian forces along our axis of advance. Against only weak So-
viet resistance, our open right flank elements reached Varakiani. It was my
understanding that General Landgraf made this decision on his own in
order to exploit our favorable tactical situation, or at the very least the
movement was approved by higher headquarters upon his suggestion.
Panzer Group 4 had not actually intended to resume the general advance
until 2 July, as many elements were still crossing the river. The 8th Panzer
Division (LVI Panzer Corps) was lagging far behind on the Daugapavils-
Ostrov highway, but the 1st Panzer Division also put some strong advance
detachments forward.
During 2 - 3 July our movements were much hampered because of the con-
tinuous threat to our deep right flank and the inadequacies of the roads, es-
pecially northeast of Lake Luban. The 8th Panzer Division continued to ad-
vance but slowly along the highway toward Ostrov, having to deal with
stronger Russian remnant forces than the Panzer Group's other divisions
and, in consequence, always lagging forty to fifty kilometers behind 6th
Panzer Division's spearheads. This meant that we had to provide our own
flank protection along that highway in order to guard both our own supply
line and that of the 1st Panzer Division as it pushed north of Lake Luban. By
the end of 2 July, having attained an approximate forward line from Zoblewa
to Birzi, 6th Panzer Division had not been forced to overcome any organized
resistance but continually had to cope with small, local collisions with frag-
ments of Red Army units. These enemy elements, in turn, attacked our forces
employed for flank security. It was obvious that the Russian command was
attempting to keep the highway for its own use.
On 3 July General Landgraf's orders required 6th Panzer Division to reach
the highway at Gauri after detouring around the Karsava area, which was
still held by significant Russian forces. Panzer Group 4 then expected the di-
vision to advance along that highway in order to assist the 8th Panzer Divi-
sion (which time and again got stuck), while simultaneously maintaining
contact with the 1st Panzer Division as it advanced west of the highway to-
ward Ostrov against negligible resistance. General Landgraf, who would
 40 PANZER OPERATIONS

much rather have pushed forward via Karsava despite the Soviet forces in that
sector, found himself forced to send Kampfgruppen Raus and von Seck-
endorff to find their way through the swamps around Tizla, which offered
even greater difficulties than usual due to rain. Contrary to our rapid ad-
vances of the past, our spearhead units now had to pick their way through
marshy terrain. Even so, by evening our forward elements reached the high-
way at Gauri, where we assumed flank protection against Karsava and re-
connoitered in the direction of Augspils. Unfortunately, this awkward de-
ployment left the bulk of the division scattered far and wide.
The consequences of this dispersion made themselves felt on 4 July. Our
forward elements, still threatened from the rear, approached stiffening Soviet
resistance along the Russian border as they maneuvered to gain assembly
areas for our offensive against the Stalin Line as the remainder of the divi-
sion gradually closed up. One of our march columns was hit by a surprise at-
tack, supported by tanks, just east of Baltinava. While detouring around
German-occupied Gauri, this Russian force had launched its ambush from
south to north. (This attack element was probably the same force that had
tried, under pressure from 8th Panzer Division, to break out in a northern di-
rection in order to avoid being pushed into the swamps east of Gauri.) Ad-
vanced enemy detachments succeeded in crossing the Baltinava-Gauri road
from south to north as they exploited the element of surprise. A dangerous
situation for the entire 6th Panzer Division thus arose, because the division
had been torn apart, with its major combat elements tied down at the front
while the main body had to deal with the possibility of more attacks along
the line of communications at any moment.
At first it was impossible to shift any combat elements back to Baltinava
in order to deal with this threat. Division did, however, manage to free the
road through a counterattack from Baltinava by Motorcycle Battalion 6,
which had just arrived. The bulk of the Russian force, which had not yet bro-
ken out to the north, seemed—at least partly—to withdraw south again.
Some enemy elements, however, remained in the stretches of woods just
south of the highway, from which they kept the road under constant tank
fire. Motorcycle Battalion 6 had to be committed again, this time attacking
directly south. In support of this attack, Panzer Engineer Battalion 57 for the
first time employed the heavy projectiles over which they disposed, with stu-
pendous success. Not only was the forest quickly taken, but we also found
twenty undamaged Soviet tanks, whose crews, impressed by the blast of these
projectiles, must have abandoned their vehicles and fled. Having mastered
the crisis, 6th Panzer Division continued its advance toward the Latvian-
Russian border.
 TO THE RUSSIAN BORDER 41

Cracking the Stalin Line

Directly behind the Russian frontier lay the Stalin Line, the quality of which
was something of an unknown. This defensive belt consisted of concrete
pillbox emplacements extending over three kilometers in depth, but we as-
sumed that the quality of its construction varied, since 1st Panzer Division
had already reached the road near the Branchanikovo railroad station by
early afternoon on 4 July, thus penetrating the defenses on the far side of the
line. In 6th Panzer Division's sector, after Jaunlatgale and Augspils were cap-
tured, careful reconnaissance revealed the existence of a considerable num-
ber of concrete bunkers on both sides of the road. These bunkers were occu-
pied, especially on the heights to the southeast on the far side of the Lja
River. General Landgraf decided to conduct a well-planned breakthrough as-
sault on 5 July rather than to attack from the march that day. Major factors
that entered into this decision included the need to concentrate the troops
who had been drawn apart during the difficult and rapid advances of the past
two days and through the fighting at Baltinava, as well as the lateness of the
hour and our growing appreciation of Russian tenacity on the defensive.
These considerations led General Landgraf to conclude that a thrust against
such a bunker line during the advance hardly promised any success, while he
also realized that terrain conditions and the extent of the southern extension
of the Stalin Line precluded the possibility of detouring for a flank attack.
Closing up the formations of the division required the rest of the day and
much of the night of 4 - 5 July. Fortunately, the fall of Karsava and the estab-
lishment of contact with 8th Panzer Division finally relieved us of our pre-
occupation with the flanks and rear. The deliberate assembly for this assault
took place despite the objections of General Reinhardt, whose insistence on
the necessity of securing and expanding 1st Panzer Division's surprise suc-
cess was understandable enough. By this time, 1st Panzer Division's advance
elements had already driven forward to enter the southern part of Ostrov,
capturing two undamaged bridges across the Vyelikaya River.
This assault was as difficult to prepare as it was to carry out, because the
attack had to be squeezed into the narrow strip of land between the Lja and
Udraja Rivers. The Russians offered stiff resistance and defended each posi-
tion to the last. The initial assault bogged down in front of the bunker line,
and the bunkers then had to be taken, one by one, in tough close combat, em-
ploying storm-troop tactics, engineer support, and antitank weapons. The
breakthrough succeeded only in the late hours of the afternoon of 6 July,
after the capture of more than twenty bunkers in the course of fifteen hours
of fighting. On no other day since the beginning of the campaign had so lit-
 42 PANZER OPERATIONS

tie terrain been won, yet the battle was the fiercest by far. This was where 6th
Panzer Division acquired its first combat experience against Russian bunker
fortifications, experience that would prove useful in the immediate future.
We doubted that it was sheer accident that XLI Panzer Corps would later
commit 6th Panzer Division time and time again against the best-improved
of the different Russian positions that still had to be overcome on the road to
Leningrad.
Breaking through the Stalin Line in a single day had great tactical impor-
tance, for only by doing so was it possible to bring urgently needed relief to
the 1st Panzer Division, which was being heavily attacked by greatly superior
Soviet forces in its small Ostrov bridgehead. As soon as we entered Russian
territory, we left behind the few passable roads, and conditions unmistakably
changed for the worse. Thus, during our exploitation toward Ostrov, we
found it expedient to mount infantrymen on our tanks, an improvisation ef-
fective primarily against a defeated enemy. Both Kampfgruppen organized
spearhead panzer units, composed of about fifty tanks with infantry
mounted on them, which pursued the fleeing Russians relentlessly. Meeting
with negligible resistance, we pressed on, reaching the city of Ostrov well be-
fore noon on 6 July. It should be noted that this expedient worked only be-
cause the enemy was vanquished and shattered, with the mere appearance of
German tanks setting off a panic in the Russian ranks. But whenever the Rus-
sians were firmly entrenched, such a venture inevitably proved both danger-
ous and costly. During the later years of the war this improvisation was gen-
erally discontinued because of heavy casualties caused by antitank weapons
and air attacks; the introduction of larger quantities of armored personnel
carriers [APCs], moreover, had essentially eliminated the need for it.
The main task on 6 July was for the division to move into the eastern part
of the Ostrov bridgehead, which was to be enlarged to the extent of permit-
ting usage of the Ostrov-Novoryin highway by 3rd Motorized Division. This
division of the LVI Panzer Corps was to move across the Ostrov bridge in
order to circumvent the incredibly difficult swamps around the railroad line
running from Rezekne to Pustoshka. With this purpose in mind we attacked
against determined Soviet resistance on both sides of the Ostrov-Porkhov
road and managed to gain about ten kilometers. Constant Russian bombing
raids against the Ostrov bridges were unsuccessful, but traffic difficulties
were considerable.
On 7 July the attack continued, gaining another ten to fifteen kilometers
toward the northeast before grinding to a halt. The stalling of this attack
could be partly attributed to the exhaustion of the troops after two days of
heavy combat and forced marches. Moreover, the Russians continually
launched violent counterattacks that, though all were repelled, took their
 TO THE RUSSIAN BORDER 43

toll. Kampfgruppe Raus, on the division's left wing, was finally able to re-
sume the attack that evening. The fighting between Ostrov and the Luga
River was characterized by uninterrupted combat (even at night), the fierce-
ness of an enemy who fought a delaying action, increasing terrain difficulties
(deep mud and swamps), and—not least of all—sudden changes in the di-
rection of our attacks mandated by higher headquarters. Our orders for 8
July called for only a limited gain of territory toward Porkhov and a subse-
quent pivoting of our main effort to the north. General Reinhardt probably
selected the latter maneuver in order to move 6th Panzer Division closer to
1st Panzer Division, and because LVI Panzer Corps was to be shifted toward
Porkhov.
Carrying out these orders required a concentric commitment of the divi-
sion. On the right, Kampfgruppe Raus encountered only weak resistance
until our lead elements approached Slavkovitsi. Expected relief of units left
behind on flank security by the 269th Infantry Division did not occur on
time, and we therefore had to change over to the defensive against violent
counterattacks by strong Russian tank forces. Despite this pressure, we held
the territory we had attained. In the meantime, on the left, Kampfgruppe von
Seckendorff fought its way north and formed a bridgehead across the
Cherekha River north of Osipovets. During the night of 8-9 July Kampf-
gruppe Raus moved up into this bridgehead.
After crossing the rail line that connected Pskov to Porkhov, 6th Panzer Di-
vision again pivoted to the east and continued its attack with the same two
spearhead Kampfgruppen. Kampfgruppe Raus, the northern group, quickly
gained ground and the reached Zagoska by turning east through Lopatovo,
while in the south Kampfgruppe von Seckendorff—passing across Elevation
148—had to face local Soviet resistance throughout most of the morning.
The division's advance bogged down again toward evening in the face of
strengthened Russian forces, now supported by tanks. The Soviets had es-
tablished themselves to defend the so-called road triangle at Jamkino. Gen-
eral Landgraf realized that it would again be necessary to prepare a deliber-
ate attack.
Generally speaking, on 10 July the 6th Panzer Division suffered its first
tactical failure since crossing the border when the attack against the Jamkino
road triangle did not lead to success. There the enemy offered stubborn and
skillful resistance in the woods and thickets, time and again launching coun-
terblows supported by tanks. Yet the main reason for the division's hesitant
advance was the reappearance of Soviet heavy tanks, which had not been en-
countered since Raseinai. These tanks now began to appear frequently, as the
plant that produced them was located near Leningrad. Near Jamkino the
KV-1s were cleverly employed as "roving bunkers." Each fifty-two-ton tank
 44 PANZER OPERATIONS

was surrounded by two or three smaller tanks and about one infantry pla-
toon, all of whom had as their primary mission the security of the heavy
tank. It was therefore impossible for our assault troops to get close to the
tanks, forcing us to fight them from a distance.
At Jamkino the 6th Panzer Division had no 88mm flak, because—over
General Landgraf's protests—XLI Panzer Corps had taken away our at-
tached batteries the day before. This made it necessary to experiment, under
fire, with other makeshift arrangements for destroying these well-camou-
flaged "fifty-two-ton bunkers." Panzer Artillery Regiment 76 employed
100mm guns in a direct fire role, though they were difficult to move into po-
sition. Our engineers unsuccessfully attempted to repeat their success at
Baltinava with heavy rocket launchers. Major Roemhild's Panzerjaeger Bat-
talion 41 even engaged the KV-1s with our 50mm antitank guns. (We had de-
termined immediately after Raseinai that, under favorable conditions, these
guns actually could penetrate the side of the fifty-two-ton tanks at close
range. The penetration had the approximate width of a pencil.) Through
these expedients we managed several times to force the heavy tanks to change
position but were unable to put any of them out of commission.
General Landgraf's eventual decision to halt the attack and bypass
Jamkino could not be implemented that day. This proved fortunate in some
respects, as night and morning reconnaissance on 11 July revealed that 6th
Panzer Division's pressure, and perhaps LVI Panzer Corps's thrust against
Porkhov, had caused the Russians at Jamkino to withdraw toward Borovichi.
Still spearheading 6th Panzer Division's advance, Kampfgruppe Raus now
pushed northeast from Ostrov toward Porkhov and Dno.
On entering into Russia proper, the current organization of Kampfgruppe
Raus consisted of the following:

Headquarters, 6th Motorized Brigade

Motorized Infantry Regiment 4 (two battalions)
6th Company, Motorized Infantry Regiment 114 (APCs)
II/Panzer Regiment 11
II and Ill/Panzer Artillery Regiment 76
3rd Company, Panzer Engineer Battalion 57
One antitank company, Panzerjaeger Battalion 41
Flak Battalion 601
One ambulance column
One supply echelon

This made a total of:

1,500 riflemen
 TO THE RUSSIAN BORDER 45

230 machine guns

Twelve 105mm Infantry Howitzers
Sixty panzers (primarily PzKw lis and PzKw 35ts)
Twelve 105mm field artillery pieces
Twelve 150mm field artillery pieces
Nine 50mm antitank guns
Twelve 88mm flak guns
Thirty-six 20mm flak guns

We would, however, be unable to exploit this success, because Panzer Gen-

erals Erich Hoepner and Reinhardt abruptly issued new orders.
Chapter 4

THE GATEWAY TO
LENINGRAD

A Battle Against Nature

ON II JULY, THE 6TH PANZER D I V I S I O N received General Rein-
hardt's orders diverting it from its eastward advance toward Porkhov and
Dno in order to assist the 1st Panzer Division, whose drive via the Leningrad-
Pskov highway toward Luga had run into stiff Russian resistance near
Novoselye. This march was to become an incredibly difficult task for Kampf-
gruppe Raus, for it required us to discontinue our current movement and
abruptly wheel ninety degrees, continuing in a straight line in the general di-
rection of Panzer Group 4's advance, over sandy and swampy roads that,
from time immemorial, had never been used by motor vehicles. Hardly had
Kampfgruppe Raus, then the division lead echelon, started for the trouble
spot than the road shown on the map as leading directly through a swamp to
Novoselye came to an end.
The occupants of the wretched huts, which we came across here and there,
appeared equally bewildered when we requested them to make a circle
around the swampy area and lead us to a village that was marked on our ob-
solete maps as being located on our line of march. These people were not fa-
miliar with the name with which the village was labeled on our maps, be-
cause the name had been changed decades earlier. Often we were left relying
solely on our compasses and our instincts. With guides and engineers to the
front, we took up a zigzag course, from village to village, over the best wagon
roads that could be found. At the first swampy hole (about ten meters wide),
an apparently sturdy bridge collapsed under the weight of one of our light
PzKw 35ts, delaying the entire movement for five hours until Lieutenant Geb-
hardt's engineers could improvise a new bridge.

46
THE GATEWAY TO LENINGRAD 47

KAMPFGRUPPE RAUS OPENS

"THE GATEWAY TO LENINGRAD"
11-14 J U L Y 1941
 48 PANZER OPERATIONS

Whenever possible, driving in the tracks of the preceding vehicles had to

be avoided, otherwise wheels sank deeper and deeper until they became com-
pletely stuck. The column had to cross twelve swampy brooks, and at each
one a long delay ensued while the engineers strengthened rotted bridges with
girders or rebuilt them entirely. Detouring around such swampy parts was fu-
tile, as vehicles and tanks broke through the crusted top layer of ground and
became so mired that they had to be towed out by other tanks. Often the
towing vehicle sank in beside the one it was attempting to assist. Sometimes
vehicles roped together to help each other became so badly stuck that they
had to be extricated one by one by our most powerful wreckers—a twenty-
ton prime mover with super-size tracks. To maneuver these huge wreckers to
the points at which they were needed was an entirely separate problem. The
cart roads were so narrow and clogged that there was little opportunity to
turn out or edge around other vehicles. Commanders could not exercise ef-
fective leadership because emergencies developed everywhere at the same
time, and bottlenecks could be reached only on foot.
To keep the Kampfgruppe from becoming scattered, I ordered halts at reg-
ular intervals, whenever the terrain permitted, so that vehicles could close up.
One such halt was made sixteen kilometers south of Novoselye to let the
troops assemble and recover their strength for the impending attack. The
first vehicles reached the halt point at 2000, after a day in which the only
enemy they had fought was the swamp. The last truck did not pull in until
0400 the next morning. The rate of march averaged about 1.5 kilometers per
hour. Men and motors had run out of water, and the troops were exhausted
from the burning summer heat. By radio I notified division headquarters of
the conditions encountered, which allowed Kampfgruppe von Seckendorff to
follow another route. The day-long struggle against the swamp, caused by
the inaccuracy of the available maps and the lack of engineer equipment,
prevented us from attacking near Novoselye on 11 July.
Next morning, our advance detachment attacked the flank of the Russian
forces guarding the highway, whose presence south of a small, swampy
stream had been reported the day before. After a short, sharp engagement,
including a tank fight, we threw the flank guard back across the river. Amer-
ican amphibious tanks made their first appearance on the Russian front in
this action. Six of them fell victim to our antitank and panzer fire at close
range from a wooded area—three knocked out on land and three while cross-
ing the small stream. The first German troops to gain the northern bank
seized two of them that were still serviceable.
The six-foot-deep, swampy stream was not fordable, so our engineers
again had to construct a bridge for the Kampfgruppe's main body. By 1000
the entire column had crossed, and—after destroying more Russian light
 THE GATEWAY TO LENINGRAD 49

tanks—drove the Soviets to a point just south of Novoselye. That afternoon

we launched an all-out assault against the Russian flank, while other forces
(including a panzer battalion) hit the enemy rear. After a bitter fight, the
main attack caved in the enemy's flank, and when the panzer thrust crashed
into the rear, the entire Russian defense collapsed. While we began reorgan-
izing, the 1st Panzer Division took up the pursuit.
Hardly had Kampfgruppe Raus reorganized than we received orders to
march north to seize the bridge over the Plyussa River at Lyady and establish
a bridgehead on the far bank. This order ruined all chances for a night's
sleep, and early on 13 July, after just three hours of rest, the march began. As
before, our route led through many swampy places, and we crept forward
slowly. Time and again vehicles—or even whole sections of the convoy—be-
came stuck in swamps or intermediate sandy areas. Motors ran hot as they
were forced under the strain; numerous halts had to be called to add water to
radiators, consuming precious time. At several steep banks all of our trucks
had to be towed over by tanks or wreckers.
After these extremely difficult and time-consuming marches and battles,
our advance detachment managed, by launching a sudden attack, to capture
the bridge over the Plyussa River and occupy a bridgehead position at Lyady.
This surprise raid was executed by a lieutenant of the advance detachment
without waiting for orders. After he and his advance party had routed a
Russian engineer unit in a fierce battle a few kilometers south of the river, he
leaped into his cross-country command vehicle, shouting at his troops noth-
ing but the brief order, "Follow me!" Driving rapidly over sand roads and
through brushwood, he rushed toward the bridge in order to reach it before
the retreating enemy engineers. His platoon followed, recklessly unmindful
of the fact that the Russians had resumed firing. Running this gauntlet, they
succeeded in capturing the Soviet bridge guards, who had been taken com-
pletely by surprise, before they could be alerted and reinforced. Through this
decisive action the bridge, which was 150 meters long and ten meters high,
fell into our hands without a fight. We established our bridgehead after clear-
ing out the last pockets of Soviet resistance in Lyady. The objective had been
attained after a march of fifty-nine kilometers in nine hours, a rate of slightly
better than 6.5 kilometers per hour.
The troops had just finished a meal and completed their first-echelon
maintenance preparatory to taking a well-earned rest when we were alerted
for a new mission. General Reinhardt appeared in person, ordering an im-
mediate thrust to seize and hold the two large wooden bridges over the Luga
River near Porechye, the so-called Gateway to Leningrad. Elements of 1st
Panzer Division would be conducting a parallel advance directed toward
Ssabsk. As the general gave his instructions, I immediately understood the
 50 PANZER OPERATIONS

importance of the mission. Up to that time no German unit had been able to
penetrate the Luga River line, which was protected by defensive fortifications
and an extensive swamp. Eighteenth Army had stalled in front of Narva to
the north, and the rest of Panzer Group 4 had been held up before the city of
Luga to the south.
Prior to receiving General Reinhardt's orders, we had been but vaguely in-
formed about the situation of the adjoining units that composed Army
Group North. Within Panzer Group 4, we knew that the four divisions of
XLI Panzer Corps were spread across an air distance of over 130 kilometers
and that LVI Panzer Corps was engaged in heavy fighting in the Soltsy-
Utorgozii area, another sixty kilometers southeast of 6th Panzer Division.
The stiffening resistance reported along the front indicated that the Red
Army had obviously succeeded for the first time in establishing an essentially
uniform and coordinated line of battle in front of the entire army group, a
circumstance that was bound to slow down our advance from Ostrov on-
ward. Notwithstanding the trail-blasting and rapid success of Panzer Group
4, the Sixteenth and Eighteenth Armies had advanced very slowly.
General Landgraf was laboring under the impression that higher com-
mand (Panzer Group 4 and Army Group North) was not quite sure of itself
and was overreaching its objective, at least as far as the time elements were
concerned. He deduced that the actual purpose in pivoting the two panzer di-
visions to the northwest was to bypass increasingly fierce Soviet resistance on
the highway to Luga. Given the fact that Russian resistance could be ex-
pected only to increase as we approached Leningrad and the extended
swamps south of the Luga River that were barely passable for mechanized
units, General Landgraf wondered whether the new start would prove expe-
dient.
Everyone faced the next several days with apprehension, because we had
to expect the enemy to endeavor to throw all available forces against our
spearheads and flanks. This would certainly occur as soon as the Russian
command recognized that the thrust of 1st and 6th Panzer Divisions posed
equal dangers for Leningrad and its remaining forces in Estonia, forward of
Lake Peipus. General Landgraf knew that 6th Panzer Division could find it-
self in a precarious situation if its combat elements were still within the
swamps when hit by the expected counterattack. Moreover, the division's
main body would necessarily lag far behind Kampfgruppe Raus, for pulling
out of the Lake Radilovskoye region would be complicated by the necessity
of 1st and 6th Panzer Divisions crossing each other's march routes.
My immediate concerns revolved around the advance to Porechye. With-
out delay I dispatched the motorcycle messengers, who had been left at head-
quarters by my subordinate units, to summon their respective commanders,
 THE GATEWAY TO LENINGRAD 51

and I passed these orders on to them, giving them the necessary information
regarding the point of departure and the route and organization of march.
Some of the commanders made notes of certain particulars and asked ques-
tions, while others discussed ways of rendering mutual assistance—how to
make the assigned engineers, tanks, radio trucks, artillery, and other heavy
weapons an integral part of the organization. We also discussed problems of
supply. All these instructions, too, including the most minute details, were is-
sued only by word of mouth.
Throughout the march I remained with the battalion in the lead, at times
as far ahead as the advance detachment, or with those elements of the col-
umn bogged down in the rear, and with whom radio contact was maintained.
General Reinhardt's rallying cry "Open the gates to Leningrad!" like an elec-
tric spark kindled a flame in the hearts of the soldiers. All weariness was im-
mediately forgotten. Dusk had not yet fallen when the engines that had only
just stopped began to hum again.
The region we initially entered consisted of sand dunes that were in part
sparsely overgrown with coniferous trees. The march unit, now using the
method of following in the tracks of the preceding vehicle, was able in spite
of all difficulties to traverse this area at the rate of ten kilometers per hour.
Unit after unit rolled smoothly along, in duly protected march formation. We
were beginning to hope that it would prove possible to reach the objective,
which was still 100 kilometers distant, in a few hours.
As soon as we reached the swampy region south and west of Lake Samro
the road suddenly changed into marshland of the worst kind. Tanks and
guns bogged down, and here even the prime movers and other emergency ve-
hicles suffered the same fate. Progress became increasingly difficult, and be-
fore dusk tanks that had tried to skirt especially bad spots, as well as those
that attempted to drive through swampy ponds by main force, had become
stuck fast. The first moor could only be traversed after hours of backbreak-
ing work by every officer and man, tormented by swarms of mosquitoes as
they employed tree trunks, boughs, planks, and the last available fascine
mats to create a barely passable route. It was only after a night-long struggle
against the sand and mud that we finally reached a passable road.
We regained our momentum once beyond the swamp, but this relief was
short-lived, as a burned-out bridge loomed up to the front, its timbers still
glowing. Our scouts quickly marked out a diversionary route through a
neighboring village. As the leading elements approached the village, explo-
sions sounded on all sides, followed by fires, which rapidly engulfed the nar-
row road through the settlement. For the next two hours this fire made move-
ment impossible. As the flames died, the Kampfgruppe edged slowly through
the smoldering embers and falling boards. By then it was midnight, and a
 52 PANZER OPERATIONS

great distance still remained to be covered. Time and again I received radio
messages from corps and division urging speed because of the importance of
the mission. With great difficulty our vehicles tried to find their way in the
dim light, and for a few kilometers the column moved jerkily forward. Then
real trouble started. Swamp hole after swamp hole appeared, and bridge
after bridge broke under the weight of tanks, disappearing into the mud. We
had neither the time nor the materials to rebuild these bridges; our engineers
gathered tree trunks and threw them over the collapsed structures until a suf-
ficient, though precarious, load-bearing surface was built up. We followed
this method in numerous places until reaching the hard-surfaced road near
Zaruchye some eight hours later.
On good roads we could achieve speeds exceeding thirty kilometers per
hour, but in a short time there was another halt—the bridge across a deep
lake was on fire. This time it was the commander of the engineer platoon of
3rd Company, Panzer Engineer Battalion 57, attached to the advance who,
without orders, dashed at utmost speed across the burning Dolgaya bridge,
so as to be able to begin extinguishing the blaze at the other side of the river
where the fire had first broken out. The engineers succeeded in putting the
fire out so rapidly with sand and water that the load-bearing capacity of the
charred bridge remained sufficient even for the weight of our tanks and
prime movers. The loss of this bridge would have been a critical blow, be-
cause it was neither possible to ford the deep river nor cross the adjacent
swampy terrain. If we had been delayed for any length of time at this point,
which was under Russian aerial observation, the operation might well have
ended in failure. Thanks to the initiative of another young lieutenant, this
danger was dispelled.
Suddenly the cry "Enemy aircraft!" went up, but the planes made no at-
tack and our march continued. Again the planes appeared, signaled with
lights, and dropped pamphlets. "Identify yourselves or we will fire," is what
my interpreter told me these slips said in Russian. I gave orders to resume the
movement and did not allow the column to halt as the pamphlets rained
down on us again. Eventually the planes flew away. Their doubt was under-
standable. Kampfgruppe Raus, a motorized column, had advanced through
a large swampy area deep into enemy territory with significant concentra-
tions of Russian troops on either side. Our position must have given the pi-
lots cause for suspicion, but the fact that we continued to march without oth-
erwise responding apparently convinced them that we were a Red Army unit.
Shortly before reaching the Verza bridge, I ordered the entire column to
halt in a high forest in which it could be completely hidden from the view of
the enemy. I did so in order to provide the opportunity to close up from the
rear and to issue instructions concerning the capture of the Luga River cross-
 THE GATEWAY TO LENINGRAD 53

ings and the establishment of the bridgehead. I gave the order by word of
mouth, based on an obsolete 1:300,000 map:

The enemy in all probability has not yet recognized us as a German unit.
It is of paramount importance to seize the Luga bridges quickly and intact.
To this end the advance detachment will make a surprise attack on the
enemy bridge guards and eliminate them. Following this, the accompany-
ing engineer company will immediately remove all mines and take charge
of securing the bridges. The main body of the Kampfgruppe will follow
close behind, advancing without delay across the bridges toward
Ivanovskoye, where it will occupy the road fork there and conduct recon-
naissance by way of Yurky and Srednoye. The artillery will provide fire
support from a position on the southern shore of the Luga River. Distrib-
ution of heavy weapons remains the same as before. The 6th (Armored Per-
sonnel Carrier) Company of Motorized Infantry Regiment 114 will place
itself at my disposal and hold itself in readiness in the forest area south of
the bridges. That is the same point where the troops will park all supply
vehicles and repair to the auxiliary station. Each unit will be responsible
for its own security. The flak battalion will provide air raid protection in
the area south of the bridges. My command post will be established close
to the southern end of the new bridge. I expect the attack to be carried out
with determination and vigor, and I look forward to a complete victory.

There were no further questions, and no regroupings necessary, and so

only ten minutes later the column again continued to roll, organized as
heretofore. If our assumption was correct—that we had not yet been recog-
nized by the Russians—any attempt to reconnoiter the bridge area had to be
avoided because this might have seriously jeopardized the operation, whose
success depended almost completely on the element of surprise. I therefore
decided to effect a quasi-"peacetime" march. Spearheaded by a panzer com-
pany, the advance detachment arrived at Muravina. Advancing through the
forest and the village located in front of the bridge approaches, our column
reached the river crossings without being seen. Not until that moment did
the Russian guards on the bridges realize their mistake. Since they possessed
neither antitank guns nor other tank-killing weapons, they fled, panic-
stricken, to their bunkers. Lieutenant Gebhardt's pursuing engineers drove
them out without a fight and captured them en masse. Our panzers, in the
meantime, had been rolling across the two bridges, after which they made
short work of the large log bunkers on the northern bank of the river.
Thirty minutes later, in accordance with our original orders, we had
seized without a fight not only the two Luga River bridges but also the road
 54 PANZER OPERATIONS

fork at Ivanovskoye as well. The security guards had been taken completely
by surprise and fell easily into our hands. Kampfgruppe Raus, after three
days and nights of incessant struggle with the hardships of nature, pene-
trated 200 kilometers, culminating at 1000, 14 July, with the seizure of the
"Gateway to Leningrad," just 105 kilometers from the city.
The previous challenge from the Soviet planes—"Identify yourself!"—was
finally answered in an unmistakable manner when five panzers attacked the
nearby Russian airfield at Yastrebina. This again was a secondary operation
undertaken at the initiative of a junior officer. The officer in question was a
lieutenant in II Battalion, Panzer Regiment 11, who had captured an enemy
aircraft observer in the church tower at Ivanovskoye; the man apparently had
not even witnessed the action that led to our seizure of the bridges. From his
interrogation of this prisoner, the lieutenant learned about the Yastrebina
airfield, which was barely ten kilometers away and occupied by strong forces.
Making a quick decision, the lieutenant requested permission to pay the
Russian aviators a visit with the five PzKw 35ts of his platoon. This request
was all the more remarkable for the fact that neither the lieutenant nor his
men had been able to rest during the past three days and teetered on the brink
of exhaustion. Even though I knew that the Soviets would not be long in re-
sponding to such an action, there was only one answer I could possibly give
such an intrepid young officer: "Permission granted, but make sure you come
back soon!"
Meanwhile it was necessary to report our safe arrival and the establish-
ment of the bridgehead to division and corps headquarters. Our radio trans-
mitters, unfortunately, were hampered by the extensive swampy forests and
unable to overcome the immense distances involved. The only manner in
which we could send a message to XLI Panzer Corps over the airwaves was
to dispatch a radio truck sixty kilometers to the rear, a procedure that con-
sumed several hours. The brief message said only, "Bridges captured intact at
1000 and secured through bridgehead. 14 July. Raus." The radio truck had
just returned when a Russian regiment blocked the road behind us.
The young lieutenant's five panzers also returned from their raid about
this time, completely gratified with their success. Driving through the
hangars and over the planes standing about on the ground had been a rare
treat for them. The operation of these five PzKw 35ts had proven more effec-
tive than any bombing attack the Luftwaffe might have made. The field,
across which they left heaps of ruined aircraft and vehicles, was ablaze.
Flames and dark clouds of smoke shot up into the sky and could be seen
from afar. All airfields in the Leningrad area—and there were quite a num-
ber of them—were instantly alerted. Hardly an hour had passed before our
completely worn-out troops, who had only just arrived in their assigned de-
 THE GATEWAY TO LENINGRAD 55

fensive sectors, were roughly jolted out of sleep. Out of a clear sky the vil-
lages, farms, roads, and adjacent fringes of forest were subjected to a verita-
ble downpour of bombs. A particularly large share was meted out to the vil-
lages of Muravina and Porechye, situated on both sides of the bridges. My
headquarters, located in Muravina, was deprived of shelter and had to take
refuge in the nearby forest, suffering the same fate as the troop units.
This attack was enough of a signal to galvanize even our exhausted troops
into action. Without delay, foxholes for protection against tanks and air raids
were dug everywhere and provided with a thick overhead covering. These in-
dividual positions were then interconnected until they formed a narrow
zigzag trench system. Waves of enemy aircraft continued to attack in succes-
sion until the day drew to a close. Unfortunately, so far to the north, dark-
ness fell very late. Once our flak had organized the antiaircraft defense, we
began to inflict serious losses on them, forcing the Russians to abandon their
practice of conducting low-level flights. We knew quite well that we were on
our own in combating enemy aircraft; the Luftwaffe was unlikely to appear
very soon because its ground organizations could not keep pace with the
rapid advances of our panzer units.
The first short night passed uneventfully, but no one doubted that the Rus-
sians would do their utmost to eliminate immediately the danger threatening
Leningrad. Infantry forces in large numbers, supported by artillery and
tanks, were moving up on all railroads and highways. We would learn that
the Russians had committed three People's Volunteer Rifle Divisions and one
tank brigade, with the mission of annihilating the presumptuous Kampf-
gruppe that had dashed across the Luga River. I was determined, despite the
odds, to resist the Russians until reinforcements arrived. My subordinate
commanders were well aware that extremely critical situations would arise
before help could reach us—we all knew that the main body of the division
was far behind, faced the same swamps we had endured, and would be un-
able even to contact us by radio for possibly as long as two days.
Kampfgruppe Raus had seized the "Gateway to Leningrad," but could we
hold it?

Planning the Defense of the Luga River Bridgehead

The establishment and defense of bridgeheads was one of the most critical
tasks throughout the Russian campaign, and this duty frequently fell to the
panzer and motorized units. During four years of war, I, myself, together
with the troops under my command, fought in various sectors and secured
more than sixty bridgeheads, no two of which were alike in character. Each
constituted an individual structure, conditioned by its mission, the terrain,
 56 PANZER OPERATIONS

A R E A O F THE LUGA R I V E R B R I D G E H E A D
J U L Y 1941
 THE GATEWAY TO LENINGRAD 57

the forces holding it, and their equipment. Not one of these bridgeheads even
remotely resembled the one at the Luga River, which even my subordinate
commanders initially considered untenable. The units that subsequently ar-
rived as reinforcements regarded my tactical setup of this bridgehead as ab-
surd and were quite astonished that we had managed to hold it under such
difficult circumstances. Yet no one, after being appraised of preceding events
and given time for careful reflection, was ever able to suggest how the meas-
ures taken might have been improved. The victory gained justified the advis-
ability of the tactics applied. It would have been impossible for infantry
alone to hold the bridgehead, even in much greater strength than we pos-
sessed, but it would have been even more difficult for merely panzer units
without infantry. An organized, harmonious teamwork of all arms, combin-
ing both rigid and elastic defense techniques, was the only possible procedure
under the circumstances.
The tactics applied within this restricted area were particularly character-
ized by the necessity to grant my subordinate commanders—down to com-
pany and platoon level—much more freedom to act on their own initiative
than was usually the case. This could not have occurred had not our officers
been taught and trained in this manner during peacetime. My unit com-
manders and their subordinates of all ranks had fortunately been so trained
to a high degree, and the victory we achieved must ultimately be ascribed to
that fact.
I knew that our armored strength roughly equaled that of the Soviets, but
I also realized that they possessed a twelve-fold numerical superiority in in-
fantry. Bearing this factor in mind, it was imperative for us to achieve the
closest possible concentration of our forces and make the most advantageous
use of terrain. It was obvious from the outset that our strength was insuffi-
cient to enable us to set up an unbroken defensive ring around the bridges as
well as the equally important road junction at Ivanovskoye. At the same
time, I knew that these two strategic areas, as well as the intermediate ter-
rain, had to remain in our hands if—as General Reinhardt expected—the
bridgehead was to become the "Gateway to Leningrad."
Had I decided to establish just a small bridgehead, abandoning
Ivanovskoye to the Russians, then holding the two bridges would have been
a hollow victory. Without securing sufficient area for XLI Panzer Corps later
to concentrate strong forces within our lines, the bridgehead would lose its
strategic importance. Consequently, in order to defend a five-kilometer-long
corridor that was not more than several hundred meters wide, I had to em-
ploy the kind of tactics whereby the bridges and the road junction remained
securely under our control at any price and it would be possible for us re-
peatedly to mop up penetrations into the intermediate terrain. The
 58 PANZER OPERATIONS

Ivanovskoye road junction obviously constituted the decisive point, because

its possession was also of critical importance to retaining control of the
bridges.
Moreover, the terrain and vegetation favored such a tactical conception.
To the north the bridgehead was protected by a reservoir fifteen meters deep,
and to the east by a six- to ten-meter-deep ditch with steep banks. Both reser-
voir and ditch functioned as perfect antitank obstacles, which Russian in-
fantry would also find difficult to cross. To the west a swampy forest region
reached nearly to the road. Although it was impossible for tanks to drive
along this road, several sections of it were passable for infantry forces. South
of the bridgehead there were extensive swampy forest areas, which at certain
spots were passable for smaller units and light weapons; here it would be suf-
ficient to deploy a single security detachment and small tactical reserves.
Major Russian units of all types, which might have most seriously endan-
gered the bridgehead, found themselves forced to use the supply route, where
we could fight them with our panzers. In other words, owing to the peculi-
arities of the terrain, Soviet armored attacks would everywhere be confined
to the roads. Only at the western outskirts of Ivanovskoye and within the
central spine of the bridgehead itself was it possible for tanks to move along
a narrow terrain corridor on both sides of the road.
The bridgehead also possessed the distinct advantage that it was not open
to enemy view from any side. This meant that Soviet artillery would be able
to fire only according to the map or with the assistance of aerial observation.
At that point in the war, the Russians had not as yet become familiar with co-
ordinated air-ground operations, and they had barely had any opportunity
to plan fire missions based on map coordinates. Taken together, these factors
meant that our forces occupying the bridgehead could be seriously endan-
gered only if the Soviets employed their vast numerical superiority in in-
fantry to launch simultaneous, coordinated attacks from all sides, or if
Kampfgruppe Raus had to go without supplies for more than a week. We had
to hope that neither of these contingencies would occur.
With the foregoing analysis constituting the psychological precept upon
which I based the defense, the Ivanovskoye road junction became the focal
point. There I committed the main body of Colonel Rudolf von Waldenfels's
Motorized Infantry Regiment 4, with one battalion each facing east and
west, respectively. This regiment had to block the two approach roads and
protect the adjacent open flanks. For defense against the Soviet super-heavy
KV-1 tanks, the regiment received some 88mm flak and 100mm high-velocity
guns. As a tactical reserve the infantry regiment held back one infantry com-
pany, to which was added a panzer company. Responsibility for the immedi-
ate protection of the bridges devolved on Lieutenant Gebhardt's 3rd Com-
 THE GATEWAY TO LENINGRAD 59

pany, Panzer Engineer Battalion 57, augmented with a number of the smaller
20mm flak guns. Lieutenant Beschke's 6th (APC) Company, Motorized In-
fantry Regiment 114, took charge of guarding and securing the area south of
the Luga River. In case of emergency, Lieutenant Beschke could use the per-
sonnel of all supply trains stationed in this area, which had been organized
as Alarmeinheiten [Alarm Units] and committed quickly. Every headquarters
element assumed responsibility for its own safety. All artillery, flak, and anti-
tank elements had to be ready at all times to repulse the Russians in close
combat with their respective weapons, or to be committed as infantry for
launching counterattacks. I kept the two artillery battalions and two panzer
companies under my immediate control. The panzers had the standing mis-
sion of attacking—without waiting for orders—any and all Soviet troops
trying to pass the road and to rout them. Several panzers, attached to head-
quarters, were detailed to remain south of the Luga and, in case of need, to
come to the immediate assistance of Lieutenant Beschke's company. I in-
tended to concentrate our artillery fire primarily on the area on both sides of
the strongpoint of the road. Consequently, our artillery commander, Lieu-
tenant Colonel Graf, depended on direct cooperation with Motorized In-
fantry Regiment 4. The consistent, personal contact maintained between my
headquarters and both units assured coordinated action of all weapons and
eliminated all possibility for misunderstanding.
Before these orders were issued, the unit commanders and I conducted a
joint reconnaissance and evaluation of the terrain, which conveyed a picture
at variance with our only map. We had the opportunity to do so because all
the security detachments had been captured and the partisans had fled as
soon as our first units had arrived, leaving only the Russian air force to trou-
ble us. Fortunately, the nearby forest offered protection against its worst ef-
fects. This state of affairs was not only advantageous in facilitating our re-
connaissance operations but also provided us with critical time to prepare
the position in every respect.
Our troops made excellent use of this time. First, it was possible to inspect
the construction of every position from all sides, including the angle from
which an attacking enemy would view them. Above all, this gave us the op-
portunity to emplace our antitank weapons to the best advantage and cam-
ouflage them to perfection. Almost equally important, our infantry thor-
oughly reconnoitered the forest regions that extended closest to the road,
allowing them to ascertain the location of several narrow trails leading
across the swamps. We guarded these paths constantly so that we could not
be taken by surprise by Soviet troops attacking from the forest. Such a de-
tailed examination of the ground was crucial, because it would not be until
much later that we would be able to replace our inaccurate maps with aerial
 60 PANZER OPERATIONS

photographs and prints of captured Russian 1:100,000 maps, which were up

to date enough to be utilized for map firing.
Everywhere the terrain allowed the commitment of our panzers, the tele-
phone lines connecting the troop units were installed on tall, sturdy trees
or—if there were no trees—buried in shallow, dry ditches that we covered
with sand or earth and camouflaged with grass. Thus the lines could be hid-
den from enemy view and remain intact even while tanks rolled across them.
This procedure proved quite effective. The planning of this measure and sim-
ilar details was neither my task nor that of the battalion commanders as tac-
tical commanders but fell within the province of properly trained special
units. Tactical commanders merely had to make sure the measures taken by
these units were expedient and took action themselves only if this was not
the case or something had been overlooked.

The Fight for the Bridgehead

The next morning [15 July] Russian aircraft, as expected, appeared on the
scene very early. They were amazed at the completely changed picture: No
evidence appeared beneath them of any German soldier, weapons, or vehi-
cles, nor of any defensive positions. Everything had been buried in the
ground or camouflaged. The familiar landscape lay peaceful and serene be-
fore them. Was it possible (they probably wondered) that the Germans had
withdrawn after destroying the Yastrebina airfield? Any such hope was
crushed the moment their leading bomber wing approached the Luga
bridges, at which point the planes were scattered by a shower of large and
small caliber shells fired by Flak Battalion 601. Not only did the Soviet
bombs miss their target; two trails of smoke in the blue sky testified that our
flak gunners had hit their mark. During their low-level flight the Russian
fighter plane escorts also suffered losses due to the machine-gun fire that
struck them from several angles. Nevertheless, it must be admitted that the
Russians tenaciously returned at short intervals to attack the bridges and sus-
pected troop concentrations, which they wanted to crush before the first Red
Army infantry and tank units arrived.
The 1st Peoples' Volunteer Rifle Division, supported by tanks, made its
appearance during the course of the morning, briskly advancing on
Ivanovskoye on both sides of the road leading into the village from the west,
its assignment to recapture both Luga bridges that same day. Suddenly the
concentrated fire of concealed German batteries forced the Russian infantry
to take cover. Although the enemy tanks initially stopped in confusion, they
soon continued to roll forward by fits and starts. The raw Russian infantry
followed in small groups in brief spurts, pushed forward by the officers and
 THE GATEWAY TO LENINGRAD 61

commissars with pistols in hand. The tanks, setting the pace and advancing
in wedge formation, had already approached the German line to attempt a
breakthrough when our 88mm flak and 100mm guns attacked them from
ambush gun emplacements at a distance of barely 500 meters. A cloud of
smoke signifying a hit followed every burst of fire. Meanwhile, our artillery
and machine-gun fire was steadily thinning the ranks of the Russian infantry.
The attack ground toward a standstill. More Soviet infantry units were
thrown into battle to provide the attack new impetus, but these units had al-
ready been hit hard in their assembly areas by the heavy 150mm batteries of
III Battalion, Panzer Artillery Regiment 76. For troops who had never been
engaged in combat before, this was a disastrous baptism of fire. Their irres-
olute rushing about in all directions and the withdrawal of their tanks (a
dozen of which had already been put out of action) were unmistakable signs
of a crisis. At that moment thirty panzers from Lieutenant Colonel Johann
Siebert's II Battalion, Panzer Regiment 11, firing all guns, burst forth with a
roar and launched a counterattack, disabling several additional Russian
tanks and scattering their hapless infantry. The enemy assault, during which
the Russians had suffered heavy casualties, collapsed in utter failure. After a
brief pursuit, our panzers were recalled. The troops of the 1st Peoples' Vol-
unteer Rifle Division, struck to their very marrow, subsequently moved with
much more caution. It proved impossible for their officers and commissars to
spur them into making a repeat attack on the same day, which as a rule the
Red Army was wont to try several times.
The commander of the panzer company attached to Motorized Infantry
Regiment 4 had launched the armored counterattack on his own initiative.
Observing the battle from the Ivanovskoye church tower, he had been the first
to recognize the crisis that had arisen in the enemy's ranks. He rushed to the
nearby regimental command post and recommended the counterthrust to
Colonel von Waldenfels. This action was also approved by Lieutenant
Colonel Graf and, with the effective support of our guns, ended the fight
with a German victory.
In the meantime, the 3rd Peoples' Volunteer Rifle Division, advancing
through Yurky, had assembled for action at the fringes of the thick forest of
saplings east of Ivanovskoye. This attack, launched without fire support, oc-
curred during the early afternoon in several closely spaced waves, the Rus-
sians advancing on both sides of the road and moving toward the dam across
completely open ground. Our artillery, which had earlier been blanketing the
Soviet assembly areas with fire, now laid down a barrage from flanking po-
sitions on the brown-clad masses. Machine guns, tanks, and other heavy
weapons also broke loose, covering the area with lethal effect. The attack dis-
integrated within a few minutes, a field of human carnage the only result of
 62 PANZER OPERATIONS

this senseless action. Even so, the attack was repeated three more times that
day, ending in failure each time. Our infantrymen, who fought from foxholes
and embrasures established along the embankment of the brook flowing
from the reservoir, suffered only minor losses.
The next two days [16—17 July] were characterized by heavy artillery fire,
which always commenced at 0600 in the form of an intense bombardment
and which the enemy repeated prior to every attack. These attacks followed
the same lines, alternating between the sectors where the fighting had raged
the previous day. In these attacks, the Russians suffered heavy losses without
gaining even one inch of ground. Although the concentrated fire of the Russ-
ian artillery and the constant air raids did cause disagreeable breakdowns
and losses, they did not by themselves have the power to impair the overall
structure of our defense.
Not until 18 July did the Soviet commanders finally realize the futility of
their previous endeavors and try to gain a victory by changing tactics. They
began constructing defensive positions on both sides of Ivanovskoye for the
purpose of concentrating the forces necessary to carry out their new design.
To this end they withdrew their western front somewhat and began en-
trenching. In the eastern sector they came to a standstill immediately in front
of the sapling forest, with their troops remaining in the open. As cover, they
used the dead bodies of their comrades, whose corpses filled the air with a
pestilential smell, piling them up at night by the hundred and covering them
with sand and earth.
The enemy's primary objective now appeared to be the capture of the two
200-meter-long Luga bridges, which thus far had been damaged only slightly
and which could be quickly repaired. The Russians attempted to seize the
bridges with attacks converging from all directions, but here, too, their co-
ordination failed. The plan had been sound—though hazardous—but its
only chance for successful execution was frittered away in isolated actions
that were uncoordinated with regard to time and space.
Initially, the Russians tried to seize the bridges by a surprise raid. During
the night of 17-18 July one company of the 2nd Peoples' Volunteer Rifle Di-
vision infiltrated across the brook north of the old bridge. At dawn these
troops suddenly fell upon our weak security detachment, occupied the
bridge, and then pushed on toward Muravina in a bid to capture the new
bridge as well. At this point the raiders encountered machine-gun units that
had been committed to secure the southern banks of the river. Almost im-
mediately, Lieutenant Beschke's company, which had been standing by, ap-
peared on the scene. This company, in its armored personnel carriers, at-
tacked the Russian company at precisely the moment when the enemy,
prompted by the noise of our approaching panzers, was attempting to make
 THE GATEWAY TO LENINGRAD 63

its escape across the old bridge. We wiped out the company to the last man;
the Russians' audacious action had miscarried so completely that not even
they had the stomach for a repeat attempt. A thrust against Muravina,
launched immediately afterward by a single Soviet company on the opposite
shore, had probably been intended to aid the company that had met with dis-
aster. This attack, however, came too late, and our machine-gun detachment
easily repulsed it.
Despite its ultimate failure, this surprise night attack had been prepared
and executed with considerable skill and had seriously endangered the
bridges. Lieutenant Gebhardt had required no special orders to defeat the
Russians, since it was his assigned task to come to the aid of the bridge
guards in the event these crossings were threatened. Even if this had not been
his mission, he would have been expected to act in the same manner, since his
engineers were stationed in the immediate vicinity of the spot where the raid
occurred. In accordance with the situation and my orders, he was duty-
bound to render assistance on his own initiative, without waiting for orders.
Nonetheless, I credited his exemplary action in attacking so rapidly and vig-
orously that he promptly eliminated the danger.
During the morning some of our soldiers sighted a fighter squadron fly-
ing low over the forest at the very spot that the Russian "Rata" planes were
wont to approach Muravina. As usual, our machine guns opened fire. This
time, unfortunately, the planes were German—the first Luftwaffe elements to
reach us. Our well-trained gunners immediately shot down the lead aircraft,
which, however, managed to make an emergency landing in friendly territory.
The squadron commander who had been flying this plane was only slightly
wounded. Staying as my guest at brigade headquarters, he soon recuperated
but found life in the encircled bridgehead highly disagreeable.
Throughout the day, several Russian battalions in succession, coming
from west and east, advanced out of the swampy forests toward the road. Se-
curity detachments from Captain Dr. Boecher's II Battalion, Motorized In-
fantry Regiment 4, stationed along the shore and supported by our panzers,
handily repulsed the attacks from the east. The Soviet infantry attacking
from the west succeeded repeatedly in breaking through as far as the road.
Each time this happened, they were simultaneously enveloped by our panzer
companies coming from the north and south, respectively, and driven back
into the forest. We were so successful in keeping the road open that, at night,
our field kitchens and maintenance vehicles routinely rolled without inter-
ference across the bridges to support the troops.
The operations of our panzer companies also had to be carried out by
local commanders, in conformity with the overall plan but without waiting
for orders. Any order that either the sector commander or I could have issued
 64 PANZER OPERATIONS

would always have come too late in view of the rapidity with which the Rus-
sians achieved their penetrations and the short distances they had to cover.
Lieutenant Colonel Siebert conducted the coordinated actions of his dis-
persed companies over the voice radio transmitters with which each tank was
equipped. During combat it would have been suicidal—either by day or
night—for troops or nonarmored vehicles to move on or near the road; this
made it impossible to dispatch messengers to the units engaged in combat.
Our infantry reserves, therefore, had to stand by, constantly organized for
battle, so as to be able to launch a prompt counterthrust. The only orders
they ever received were brief instructions issued by word of mouth, by field
telephone, or over the radio.
Around Ivanovskoye only a few isolated local actions took place. We eas-
ily repelled a weak Russian attack from the north along the reservoir toward
the bridge at the lock. Another surprise attack, launched from the forest by a
Russian infantry unit supported by a single super-heavy KV-1, created more
problems. This attack aimed at paralyzing our operational control, which was
centered—precisely as the enemy presumed—near the church. Although a
counterthrust by our reserve infantry company threw back the Soviet troops
who had broken through our security line, the KV-1 emerged from the forest
and drove with such speed, and so close, past a well-camouflaged 100mm gun
that the crew had no opportunity to fire at it. The tank circled the church,
crushing everything that appeared suspicious, including Colonel von Walden-
fels's regimental headquarters. Our PzKw 35ts were powerless—as at Raseinai
their fire had no effect on the monster. At long last one particularly plucky
NCO put an end to this critical situation. He jumped on the tank and kept fir-
ing his pistol into the driver's vision slot. The latter, wounded by bullet spat-
ter and his vision obstructed, was compelled to turn back. He obviously
hoped that in crossing the Russian lines he would force his troublesome pas-
senger to abandon his ingeniously chosen position. The smallest weapon in
our arsenal had put to flight the enemy's heaviest tank. Shouting and swear-
ing, the tank driver again steered past the 100mm gun. Only seconds before
the tank crossed out of our lines the NCO leaped off, leaving the giant vehi-
cle to its fate. Just as the offending tank reached no-man's land, it burst into
flames, struck in the rear by a direct hit of the 100mm gun.
That same morning a single Russian company, moving along swampy
roads, made its way to the rear of the bridgehead for the purpose of attack-
ing our artillery positions. Simultaneously, small assault detachments slipped
along the river to eliminate my brigade headquarters. Both operations failed
because of the vigilance of our security detachments, which spotted the
enemy in time and repelled him with local reserves.
 THE GATEWAY TO LENINGRAD 65

Around noon a single Soviet battalion carried out a more menacing as-
sault, launched from the swampy forest along the southern bank of the Luga
and aimed at our supply trains, which had been parked in a pine forest. This
attack—which caught us somewhat off-guard—began with some wild and
aimless firing, which succeeded in creating great confusion among the serv-
ice troops. Taking advantage of this momentary disorganization, the Rus-
sians crossed the road and managed to pillage a number of trucks. The
enemy assault finally broke down in front of an ordnance repair ship that
contained several new machine guns and a large amount of ammunition. As
the Russians were attempting to regroup for a second effort, Lieutenant
Beschke's company appeared on the scene (without waiting for orders) and
joined the forest battle raging in its rear. Launching its attack along the road,
this company sliced into the rear of the Russian battalion, firing from their
vehicles and causing the utmost confusion. The remnants of the intruding
battalion scattered in headlong flight, discarding all their loot. Soon there-
after our troops marked the site of this engagement with a grave on which
the cross carried the inscription: "Here lie 157 Russians who died in battle."
It goes without saying that in every instance where time allowed I was no-
tified in advance so that, in case of need, I would be able to take action and
issue additional orders. In cases such as the company- and battalion-scale
raids on the bridgehead, this was obviously impossible. Nonetheless, com-
pany and battalion commanders advised me as quickly as possible at the
start of any action or immediately thereafter.
Enemy artillery also changed its method of firing on 18 July. The Red
Army artillerymen discontinued their ineffectual firing on the bridgehead
and began concentrating on bombarding the bridges themselves. After that,
more than 1,000 shells droned across the woods toward these targets each
day. Fortunately, owing to the fact that observation was impossible for the
Russians, they never succeeded in hitting the mark with any telling effects.
Soviet aircraft also struck like swarms of hornets at our batteries and any
other target they identified. Russian pilots quickly realized that, due to the
increasing shortage of ammunition, our antiaircraft fire became progres-
sively weaker. By that afternoon our flak guns had to cease firing completely,
reserving the few shells remaining to them for antitank defense. Even our ma-
chine guns had to confine themselves to attacking only the most particularly
troublesome of the low-flying planes. Even the Kampfgruppe field artillery
had to curtail its rate of fire considerably, in order to maintain a reserve to
intervene in critical situations.
This ammunition shortage understandably became more and more my
chief source of anxiety. As long as the infantry and tanks had sufficient am-
 66 PANZER OPERATIONS

munition at their disposal, our possession of the bridgehead was in no seri-

ous danger. Yet I knew that these quantities also were apt to be depleted rap-
idly if we had to repel a series of large-scale attacks. Fortunately, the Rus-
sians in our front, owing to their costly attacks, had become worn out to
such an extent that they could not for the moment summon sufficient
strength for major operations. Nevertheless, in just a few more days they
might again be able to bring their depleted units up to full strength and pan-
demonium would break loose again. I seriously doubted that the Kampf-
gruppe would be able to resist such assaults if faced with a shortage of
panzer or small-arms ammunition. Worse, there was still no sign of life
from the main body of XLI Panzer Corps. Had the troops been held up or
even committed elsewhere? These were the questions that everyone dis-
cussed anxiously.
A night action closed the fighting on 18 July. Shortly before midnight our
security detachments that were guarding the embankment of the reservoir re-
ported hearing sounds made by the oars of rowboats slowing moving toward
the floodgate. Owing to the prevailing dead silence, these sounds were clearly
audible to our sentries. My subordinates and I, however, had been expecting
a Russian attempt to destroy this strategic installation and had taken the nec-
essary precautions to prevent such a catastrophe. The floodgate was pro-
tected by wire nets and floating minefields, which were meant to stop the So-
viets from reaching the target and designed to alert the machine-gun nests.
The machine-gun positions had been equipped with searchlights in case the
approach of enemy troops could not be heard or observed at a distance. In
this case the Russians had failed to ensure that the sound of their oars had
been drowned out by the noise of battle (though we had expected them to do
so). Consequently, our troops awaiting them in front of the floodgate with
machine guns ready to fire. As they arrived, each boatload of unlucky Rus-
sians was illuminated by the searchlights and annihilated. This operation
therefore failed miserably, and we escaped the very real danger of being swept
away by roaring floods.
At daybreak on 19 July we finally heard the long-awaited boom of guns
from the south. Soon thereafter we received word that III Battalion, Motor-
ized Infantry Regiment 118 (36th Motorized Division), was approaching.
This unit had taken so long to reach us because it had been turned off at
Ssabsk, where the 1st Panzer Division had established its own bridgehead,
and assigned as a reinforcement there. Finally it had begun pushing its way
up the southern bank of the Luga toward Kampfgruppe Raus. The battalion
had strict orders from XLI Panzer Corps to rest in the forest south of Mu-
ravina throughout the day and to wait until darkness before reinforcing the
western front of our bridgehead. This delay was absolutely essential to avoid
 THE GATEWAY TO LENINGRAD 67

exposing the troops to the danger of being attacked by Russian planes and
heavy artillery while crossing the bridges, which might have resulted in their
annihilation. Throughout yet another day, therefore, the weary occupants of
the bridgehead had to keep on fighting alone, holding out at all costs. Un-
fortunately, the battalion commander of the reinforcements, devoted to his
duty, attempted a daylight reconnaissance of the front sector that would
soon be assigned to him; he and the personnel with him were all killed en
route. The battalion itself, without incurring any other losses, reached its
sector during the night. Supported by one panzer company, it proceeded to
hold its lines against all subsequent attacks.
As much as I welcomed this increase in strength, it did not alter our now-
critical ammunition shortage. The battalion from the 36th Motorized Divi-
sion had been compelled to travel on foot through the swampy forests along
the road from Ssabsk, and the troops had therefore only been able to take
along as much ammunition as could be carried or loaded in a few panje wag-
ons. I now learned that the main body of XLI Panzer Corps (including the
rest of 6th Panzer Division) had been stranded for days on the road that my
Kampfgruppe had so completely destroyed during its advance. In order to get
out of the swamps, it had been necessary to construct a corduroy road many
kilometers long, parallel to the original march route. The good news was
that their arrival could now be expected in the near future. On the whole, the
sixth day of our encirclement passed relatively peacefully, except for lively air
and artillery activity.
During the night of 19-20 July audible sounds of towing alerted us to the
fact that the Russians had busied themselves removing the wrecked tanks.
This indicated to me that they were planning new assaults, and soon after
sunrise on 20 July this supposition was proven correct. Super-heavy KV-1
tanks attacked Ivanovskoye from both sides and rolled over our foremost
lines, as well as some supporting machine-gun positions, before they could
be put out of commission by our 100mm guns. Driven by civilian mechanics,
these new tanks had come straight from the factory. A furious firefight broke
out between the flock of smaller tanks following in their wake and our PzKw
35ts. This battle resulted in losses on both sides and was only brought to a
successful conclusion when our panzers thrust through the gap made when
the Russian engineers cleared away the wrecked tanks.
As a follow-up, the Russians attempted to accomplish what the tanks
could not by committing newly arrived infantry forces that had been trained
but briefly before large numbers of commissars ruthlessly pushed them into
battle. Initially these troops tried to storm the dam, but their attack col-
lapsed under concentrated automatic weapons fire. These unfortunate Red
Army soldiers suffered the same fate of previous attackers, across whose
 68 PANZER OPERATIONS

piled-up bodies they had been driven. After this engagement their own bod-
ies found use as building material to construct new Russian positions. A sub-
sequent attack from the west was just as unsuccessful: Even before the Rus-
sians approached their goal, our tanks rushed into the battle, overran them,
and scattered them. A final attempt to seize the bridges with a mass attack
also failed.
Although these victories were very gratifying, the cold fact was that the
fighting had expended all the ammunition dropped for us by the Luftwaffe
into our artillery positions during the last two days, as well as nearly ex-
hausting our entire supply of small-arms ammunition. Everyone realized
that we had reached the critical moment, for additional aerial deliveries
could only bring temporary relief, not end the shortage.
Just then a Luftwaffe single-engine fighter dropped the following message:
"Enemy regiment with artillery advancing on Muravina; has started out at
0900 at Dolgaya bridge." This was very bad news, because it meant that
within three hours a large Russian force might be in the rear of the bridge-
head. I knew that if the Soviets launched simultaneous attacks at this point
and both flanks, then our last hours had struck, for without ammunition
even the bravest unit is doomed. Yet as the proverb says, "God is nearest
when the need is greatest."
It was imperative to take quick action, but the question was how. Should
I throw all our panzers into battle against the approaching regiment? That
could mean losing the bridgehead if the Russians launched their attacks with
the same fury as those made earlier in the day, for only the panzers retained
a good stock of ammunition, and this made them the backbone of our de-
fense. Hazarding such a step might amount to suicide for the Kampfgruppe.
I therefore decided that I did not dare weaken the bridgehead by depriving it
of any men or weapons whatsoever. That being the case, nothing else re-
mained but to have the troops on the southern shore of the Luga carry out
defensive measures, yet a passive defense would result in confining us to such
a narrow space that we might simply be crushed by the enemy's superior
numbers. Only a bold decision would make it possible to dispel all danger,
and I therefore made the decision to attack.
Without delay I had the 6th Company (APC), Motorized Infantry Regi-
ment 114, alerted and reinforced by three tanks taken from my own head-
quarters. My orders were issued orally and did not take long. I gave Lieu-
tenant Beschke a brief orientation concerning the gravity of the situation and
his mission. He repeated these instructions back to me and then explained in
a few words how, on the whole, he intended to carry it out. Since he had al-
ready repeatedly proven his mettle, it would have been inadvisable to lay
down any rules or prescribe his method of procedure, since everything would
 THE GATEWAY TO LENINGRAD 69

have to depend on the local situation, which could not be observed from the
bridgehead. I also addressed the troops of the company before their depar-
ture, saying a few words in appreciation of their previous achievements.
Their eyes radiated absolute confidence. I had not even finished giving the
spirited Lieutenant Beschke his instructions when suddenly we heard the
thunder of guns and furious machine-gun fire coming from the south. Every-
one knew that this meant elements of the XLI Panzer Corps must have al-
ready engaged the Russian regiment, which could only improve our chances.
"Very well, hurry and get going!" were the words with which I dismissed the
energetic young officer.
No sooner had the lieutenant departed than I received a radio message
from Motorcycle Battalion 6 informing me that while advancing toward the
bridgehead along with a supply column it had become engaged in bitter
fighting at the Dolgaya River against vastly superior forces. Captain Knaust,
the acting battalion commander, requested my assistance. My brief radio
reply, "Reinforcements are on the way," was promptly acknowledged. The
6th Company (APC), Motorized Infantry Regiment 114, had also listened in
on both transmissions.
Barely twenty minutes later we heard the muffled sounds of tank and rag-
ing machine-gun fire. The company had assaulted the Russian regiment in
the rear with its armored personnel carriers and three panzers at the moment
when the enemy was already engaged in combat against the attacking mo-
torcycle battalion. Our attack struck directly against the Soviet's field ar-
tillery batteries and other heavy weapons, then pushed forward on the road,
firing all guns, until linking up with the motorcycle battalion. The Russian
regiment, panic-stricken by this surprise attack on its rear, suffered heavy ca-
sualties and lost all of its heavy equipment. By noon both the APC company
and Motorcycle Battalion 6 were already arriving south of Muravina, after
winning a total victory. The route of march had been cleared, thus eliminat-
ing the danger threatening the bridgehead.
Several days later the remainder of the 6th Panzer Division also arrived, to
be followed by the 1st Infantry Division and other units. They rolled up the
Russian position along both flanks. Our isolation at the bridgehead, with all
its hardships and distress, had come to an end. The numerous sacrifices I had
been forced to demand of the troops were vividly evidenced by the battle-
field, which looked like a huge cemetery. Graves of German soldiers, deco-
rated with crosses made of birchwood, lined each side of the road. Behind
these lay mass graves in which we had buried Red Army soldiers numbering
fifteen times our own fallen. Surrounding us were the wrecks of seventy-eight
tanks that had tried and failed to storm our stronghold on the Luga.
The "Gateway to Leningrad" was open.
 70 PANZER OPERATIONS

The Fatal Delay

It is important to understand the difficulties General Landgraf faced in clos-

ing the main body of 6th Panzer Division to the Luga River. Kampfgruppe
Raus had left in its wake a road absolutely impassable for the division's tanks
and vehicles, since so many of our own vehicles had churned up the mud. On
13 July the division reached the area of Lyady only after extreme difficulties
and was widely scattered. Just to the east of Lyady, 1st Panzer Division had
also begun to get stuck in the bog.
On 14 July, as Kampfgruppe Raus seized the Porechye bridgehead, the
main body of 6th Panzer Division could not advance at all. The stretch of
about twenty kilometers between Maryinsko and the western tip of Lake
Dolgaya had to be transformed into a corduroy road to become passable.
Lieutenant Colonel Lehnert's engineers had to be satisfied with makeshift re-
pairs, which in every instance the passage of our columns quickly destroyed.
Then additional repair teams would have to be dispatched by division head-
quarters, later aided by a few contingents of construction troops from XLI
Panzer Corps. Operations were further hampered by dense Russian mine-
fields.
Equally critical, on this day 1st Panzer Division gave up on the idea of
pushing forward on its stipulated route of advance. Elements of that division
began trying to press from the side onto 6th Panzer Division's only road.
General Reinhardt ruled that 6th Panzer Division's interests were to be disre-
garded in view of the importance of establishing a bridgehead at Ssabsk as
well as Porechye, and some units of 1st Panzer Division were passed through
until they turned northeast again near Maryinsko. It could soon be noticed,
however, that the entire 1st Panzer Division intended to choose this itinerary.
An unholy mess was the result. General Landgraf was forced to order a com-
plete stop at the Sayanye bridge for all vehicles except ambulances and mes-
sengers. Finally, Major Walter Wenck and the operations staff of 1st Panzer
Division arrived, and through direct cooperation between the two commands
order gradually emerged from confusion, and the movement slowly resumed.
It became nevertheless necessary not to allow anybody to pass the bridge at
Sayanye unless a written order issued by 6th Panzer Division (after agreement
with 1st Panzer Division) was presented. This episode had enormous tactical
importance, as it prevented both weak bridgeheads from being reinforced
and supplied quickly enough.
The bulk of 6th Panzer Division spent the next day [15 July] still occupied
with building roads and consolidating its forces. Flank protection against the
west, where our understanding of the Russian situation remained obscure,
could only be loosely provided just west of the Loshogodva-Malatyevka
 THE GATEWAY TO LENINGRAD 71

area. Our nearest "neighbor" to the left, 36th Motorized Division, was still
advancing on Gdov, fifty kilometers away. News also arrived that LVI Panzer
Corps had experienced a setback, raising speculations about the possibility
of the division's having to interrupt the general advance to defend the
Porechye bridgehead for an extended period without relief.
As noted above, the first reinforcement that succeeded in reaching Kampf-
gruppe Raus was not from 6th Panzer Division but was a reinforced battal-
ion of the 36th Motorized Division. As this battalion was attached to 6th
Panzer Division, other elements of General Otto Ottenbacher's division were
attached to 1st Panzer Division at Ssabsk, and XLI Panzer Corps took direct
control of additional 36th Motorized units as a general reserve. This was the
first time, at least in this theater, that an organized division had been split up
as an emergency measure, a practice that later became the rule in Russia, es-
pecially in certain sectors. The momentary advantage of such a measure was
almost always offset by many long-lasting disadvantages, but the lack of re-
serves nonetheless required such measures. Despite this concern, General
Landgraf and I both welcomed the reinforcement, which, apart from its
other advantages, finally made some relief possible for the soldiers of
Kampfgruppe Raus who had been in combat, day and night, for an extended
period.
The next three weeks brought 6th Panzer Division's first long standstill, as
well as difficult and costly position warfare under unfavorable conditions.
The general cause of this delay in Army Group North's advance was the very
slow progress of Sixteenth and Eighteenth Armies, which made it impossible
for the narrow, small wedge that XLI Panzer Corps had driven into the
steadily stiffening outer defenses of Leningrad to be pushed any farther. Yet
almost equal causes of this stagnation were the exhaustion of the troops, an
immediate shortage of ammunition due to as yet unresolved road difficulties
(supply by air became necessary), and the Soviets' ability to improve their de-
fenses much quicker than we could reinforce our bridgehead. Heavy attacks
against the Porechye bridgehead were often the consequence, because 6th
Panzer Division did not have sufficient troops to hold the bridgehead and
cover the long eastern flank behind which our tenuous line of communica-
tions ran.
We concluded from unusually heavy air raids (especially on 18 July), from
new reinforcements, and from the appearance of Russian railroad artillery at
the Weimarn station east of Kingisepp that the Soviets were planning a major
offensive against our Luga River bridgeheads. After an artillery preparation,
this offensive started with great vehemence on 20 July, supported by tanks.
All attacks were again repelled in heavy fighting, which proved costly for
both sides. More than twenty enemy tanks were knocked out, but a local cri-
 72 PANZER OPERATIONS

sis arose when it became evident that the Russians, to everyone's surprise,
combined their assault against the bridgehead with a flank attack our of the
Monastyrek swamps against Arinovka. We succeeded, however, in recovering
Arinovka with a counterthrust. In order to stabilize the situation more
firmly, General Landgraf scheduled a counterattack for 21 July. This began
in the small hours of the day and threw the Russians back as far as
Monastyrek. Once this had been accomplished, the attacking force returned
to Arinovka after reconnoitering the railroad tracks (which had not been
marked on our maps). General Landgraf reject the idea of holding the region
around Monastyrek because it would have required too many forces.
Thereafter, when the Russians resumed attacks on the bridgehead, they
did so on a smaller scale. On 23 July the Soviets tried in vain to cross the
Luga southeast of Porechye in order to encircle the bridgehead. Weak ele-
ments that reached our bank of the river were wiped out in a counterattack.
Also on 23 July the 1st Infantry Division began to arrive in the division area.
The 1st Infantry Division had been earmarked to relieve 6th Panzer Division
so that we would later be free to lead the breakout attack from the bridge-
head. At General Landgraf's suggestion, only the left half of the bridgehead
was turned over to the 1st Infantry Division in order to make a simultaneous
attack by both divisions possible at a later date. The necessary movements
involved in this hand-over, which had to be executed very cautiously and only
during the night, required several days. On 24 July, 1st Infantry Division
launched a new local thrust against Monastyrek and established contact with
X X X V I I I Corps, finally approaching by way of Gdov.
The same day, Panzer Regiment 11 was reorganized from three to two bat-
talions. The continuation of three battalions became pointless in view of the
repair situation and the many losses. It is safe to say that the advance from
the German border to the Luga River had cost the division an entire panzer
battalion. The losses attributable to technical failure continued to far out-
weigh combat losses.
Advance elements of X X X V I I I Corps reached the Luga on 27 July, just
southeast of Kingisepp. This development was a noticeable relief for 6th
Panzer Division, which no longer had to be concerned about the long, open
flank to its left. From this point, Russian attacks against the bridgehead
slowly died away. The Soviets limited themselves to attacking Porechye with
artillery and from the air. Due to the smallness of the bridgehead, this con-
stituted a considerable harassment, which eased only a little after the Luft-
waffe transferred a fighter squadron into the area.
The pause gave the division a chance to catch its breath, to get rehabili-
tated to a certain degree, and to prepare tactics and supply for the planned
breakout attack. Neither General Landgraf nor his officers had any illusions
 THE GATEWAY TO LENINGRAD 73

about the difficulties of this forthcoming attack. The Russians constantly

improved their positions, and an all-out assault would have to be made by in-
fantry alone, because the terrain permitted at the most the employment of a
few panzers for local infantry support. Nevertheless, officers and men alike
were anxious for the offensive to start, since the defense of the bridgehead
had become a real meat grinder. The division suffered more casualties dur-
ing three weeks of position warfare than had been the case throughout the
entire advance from East Prussia to the Porechye bridgehead.
Once the general situation permitted, XLI Panzer Corps scheduled the at-
tack for 8 August. The reinforced 1st Panzer Division (employing elements of
36th Motorized Division) would set off from Ssabsk, while the 6th Panzer
and 1st Infantry Divisions attacked simultaneously from Porechye. These
were not particularly strong forces, in view of the energy with which the Rus-
sians had improved their defenses and the close proximity to Leningrad.
Moreover, one of the four divisions involved in the breakout attack—1st In-
fantry Division—was not expected to participate in the thrust once it left the
bridgehead but had orders to pivot toward Kingisepp in order to assist Eigh-
teenth Army's advance. After having passed the swamps, the three divisions
of XLI Panzer Corps were supposed to reach the railroad between Smer-
dovitsy and Pustomersha. Finally, after a cloudburst and thunderstorm dur-
ing the night of 7—8 August, it would rain throughout the following day.

Breakout!
In our attack out of the Luga River bridgehead the terrain now worked
against us. The bridgehead was completely surrounded by woods, and the
sector to be attacked lay in a medium-growth, partly marshy forest with
thick underbrush. Elements of the 2nd and 3rd Peoples' Volunteer Rifle Di-
visions held the line, their most advanced positions about 300-400 meters
ahead of our front. Their trenches were narrow and deep and had no para-
pets. Excavated earth had been scattered in the surrounding rank swamp
grass, and the defensive positions were so thoroughly camouflaged with
branches that neither our reconnaissance patrols nor Luftwaffe aerial pho-
tography had been able to spot them over the course of nearly four weeks.
The Soviets had deployed wire entanglements no higher than the dense
growth of grass hiding them. The effect was to create a set of defenses in-
comparably stronger than the Stalin Line.
A single-lane road from Ivanovskoye and a dirt track from the vicinity of
the Luga bridges both cut through the woods to the village of Yurky, which
was our immediate objective. Both avenues of approach had been blocked by
heavily wired abatis and minefields. On the far edge of the woods the Rus-
 74 PANZER OPERATIONS

sians had constructed a second position atop a sand dune. Behind this, a
third defensive line ran through Yurky itself, and a fourth had been prepared
northeast of the village. The second position had been constructed with spe-
cial care: It consisted of a deep antitank ditch (in the front wall of which Red
Army infantry had entrenched itself), supported by heavy weapons firing
from bunkers.
The 6th Panzer Division attacked along both of these routes—Kampf-
gruppe Raus along the track from the bridges, and Kampfgruppe von Seck-
endorff along the road from Ivanovskoye. Both Kampfgruppen received
strong artillery support, and each had a battalion of Nebelwerfer [Multiple
Mortar] Regiment 52 attached. I dispatched individual tanks to support the
engineer in removing the road blocks. In spite of extremely heavy fire con-
centrations on our projected points of penetration, we could not budge the
Russians from their narrow, invisible zigzag trenches. To be sure, our panzers
managed to reach the barriers, but heavy, unabated defensive fire prevented
the dismounted engineers from removing the roadblocks. Infantry from Mo-
torized Infantry Regiment 4 were committed in a fruitless effort to locate
other weak spots in order to effect a breakthrough. Repulsed everywhere by
murderous defensive fire from an invisible enemy, our troops finally stopped,
knee-deep in swampland, stranded in front of the wire entanglements cover-
ing still unknown Soviet positions.
We later realized that the Russians had intended to launch a heavy attack
against 6th Panzer Division on the afternoon of 8 August, and that was a
primary cause of our tactical failure. In their own preparations, the Soviets
had concentrated particularly strong infantry and artillery forces during the
night of 7 - 8 August. Naturally, such changes were unknown to us on the
morning of 8 August, and as a result the start of our attack no longer fully
corresponded to the prevailing situation. Initiating our main-effort attack in
the teeth of the enemy's main effort caused decidedly unfavorable results.
The shock caused by this reverse and our considerable losses made itself
felt. Substantial regrouping of our infantry units became necessary and
proved very difficult in the narrow bridgehead where the two lines in some
spots were separated only by a few meters. General Landgraf therefore be-
lieved that the attack could not be resumed until 11 August. He had a diffi-
cult time convincing General Reinhardt of this point of view. The corps com-
mander, naturally, wanted to exploit the successes scored by his other
divisions. The combined 1st Panzer/36th Motorized Division attack at Ss-
absk, as well as the 1st Infantry Division's thrust at Leininski, had been able
to break through the first Soviet positions and advance approximately three
kilometers.
 THE GATEWAY TO LENINGRAD 75

General Landgraf agreed to continue the attack on 10 August, and 9 Au-

gust passed with preparations and regrouping. Meanwhile, both 1st Panzer
Division and 36th Motorized Division advanced well. The 1st Panzer Divi-
sion reached Isvos, while the 36th Motorized Division was employed to mop
up three wooded regions and then pivoted northwest to support 6th Panzer
Division. In the course of this movement, General Ottenbacher's troops took
Pustoshka.
In the late afternoon of 10 August, having reorganized for a new, tightly
concentrated attack along the Porechye-Yurky road, 6th Panzer Division re-
sumed the attack, but not until after dark did we manage to penetrate these
defenses. A single company succeeded in crawling forward, man by man,
through the deep-cut bed of a small stream that was overgrown with grass
and bushes, and thereby infiltrated through the wire obstacle. That particu-
lar point had not been attacked during the day, and I immediately ordered up
strong reinforcements. These widened the point of penetration and cleared
the trenches and strongpoints along our immediate front, though only after
hours of bitter, hand-to-hand fighting. Despite the loss of their forward po-
sition on this line, the Russians continued to hold their front line against
Kampfgruppe von Seckendorff. Neither local detours nor wider turning
movements could induce the defenders to evacuate positions not under im-
mediate attack. Every single trench and bunker had to be taken individually.
The mop-up operations continued for a full twenty-four hours.
On the next morning of 12 August our general attack continued, thrust-
ing toward Yurky and rolling up the Soviets' second defensive line. Again,
fierce combat at close quarters was required before we scattered the defend-
ers and cleared the road to Ivanovskoye for Kampfgruppe von Seckendorff.
Thus it had required a two-day battle, exacting a heavy toll of losses from
both sides, before this invisible defensive system in the swampy forest could
be surmounted.
On the same day, 1st Panzer Division fought its way into open terrain and
reached the Syrkovtisi-Morosov area, where it encountered strong Russian
tank forces, but no more substantial defensive positions outside of the
woods. The 36th Motorized Division established contact with 6th Panzer Di-
vision via Krutye Rughi. The 1st Infantry Division meanwhile advanced
painstakingly up to the area south of Khoroshevo, where it had to go over to
the defensive against violent Red Army counterattacks.
In Yurky I took the time to inspect several Russian tanks that had been
knocked out a few hours earlier near a church. A larger number of troops
was looking on. Suddenly, the turret of one of the knocked-out tanks began
to revolve and fire. The tank had to be blown up. We discovered that among
 76 PANZER OPERATIONS

the crew, which had been presumed dead, there was a commissar who had
merely been knocked unconscious. When he revived and saw so many Ger-
man soldiers around him, he had opened fire.
By 12 August we believed that we had passed the most critical part of the
battle after having broken through the main enemy positions in the woods, a
belief borne out by the results in the 1st Panzer Division's sector. Luftwaffe
reconnaissance revealed several permanent field fortifications on the heights
south of Vypolsova. Taking this into consideration, General Landgraf or-
dered the attack to continue on foot until reaching Vypolsova; after that, the
troops would mount their vehicles to continue the advance. This was the
plan, but the day took an unexpected turn. The Vypolsova heights proved to
be a greatly improved fortress rather than a field fortification. Antitank
ditches, concrete bunkers with armored cupolas, concrete gun positions, suc-
cessive defensive lines, barbed wire, and mines had been developed into a for-
tification system of such density as was not even encountered directly in
front of Leningrad. It is noteworthy that the Luftwaffe had not recognized
the extent of this system of fortifications. Though local in nature, these for-
tifications could not be flanked, because they blocked our exit from the
woods.
Substantial elements of the division were still tied down by mop-up oper-
ations in the woods around Yurky, but General Landgraf nonetheless com-
mitted Kampfgruppe von Waldenfels (the reinforced Motorized Infantry
Regiment 4) against Vypolsova. Against defenders who had been much bat-
tered in the preceding engagements, Colonel von Waldenfels's determined
troops succeeded in taking this fortress on the mountain, an achievement
that noticeably imparted new elan to our battalions. After four weeks they
had finally gotten out of that green hell of a hated forest, and the terrain
gradually became more passable.
The fighting during the next three weeks (13 August—7 September) was
characterized by a gradual slowing down of the advance on Leningrad, with
the offensive finally bogging down in front of the city's fortifications. This
was followed by a transition from a mechanized advance to position warfare
of limited duration. The reasons for this change were to be found less in
Russian resistance than in the circumstances of our own forces. First, the XLI
Panzer Corps's advance was entirely too weak (deploying only 1st and 6th
Panzer Divisions and 36th Motorized Division). Thus, as we advanced, our
northern and southern flanks steadily lengthened. The northern flank was
more decisive, since Eighteenth Army had been unable—even after the fall of
Narva and Kingisepp—to straighten out its affairs (leading to the develop-
ment of the Oranienbaum pocket). Moreover, the follow-up infantry forces
advancing against the Luga River or along the Luga-Krasnogvardeysk high-
 THE GATEWAY TO LENINGRAD 77

way made only slow progress. Taken together, these circumstances accounted
for the wasting away of XLI Panzer Corps's attack.
In the exploitation of our success at Vypolsova, 6th Panzer Division finally
gained both freedom of movement and considerable terrain on the afternoon
of 13 August. Our spearheads crossed the Kingisepp-Leningrad railroad and
reached the vicinity of Bolshoi and Malesosnitsi, while 1st Panzer Division
pivoted east toward Volosovo. That was the same day that the troops of 6th
Panzer Division, to their surprise, had their initial encounter with Russian
rocket launchers (the Katyusha rocket projectors later to become known to
the soldiers as the "Stalin Organ"). At first we thought they were German
Nebelwerfer that had been captured by the Soviets in LVI Panzer Corps's re-
verse at Soltsy.
On 14 August the division pivoted east-northeast and reached the Kono-
chovitsi-Tuchovo area, crossing the highway about halfway between
Volosovo and Gomontovo the following day. At that point fighting had to be
resumed on foot, even though 36th Motorized Division had been moved up
behind 6th Panzer Division to protect the lengthening northern flank. Nei-
ther the 36th Motorized nor our own detached elements proved fully able to
remove the constant enemy thrust from the region northwest of Moloskovitsi
against our supply lines. This meant that during 16 and 17 August only slow
advances of a few kilometers in the face of heavy fighting were possible. On
16 August, for example, more than 2,000 mines had to be removed in our
zone of attack, not counting hundreds of mines that presumably went unde-
tected. We noticed that the Russian use of mines increased steadily as we ap-
proached Leningrad. The same day, 1st Panzer Division's advance ground to
a complete halt.
Losses in our combat units made themselves felt more and more, espe-
cially among the officers, because a replacement crisis had arisen for the first
time since the beginning of the Russian campaign. No replacements were ar-
riving. A partial explanation for this state of affairs might have been found
in the fact that the replacement and supply transports for the entire XLI
Panzer Corps had to make a big detour through the old Luga bridgeheads,
causing considerable delays due to distance and the miserable condition of
the roads. Conditions in this regard would improve only toward the end of
August, after the main Soviet Luga defenses were thoroughly pierced (19 Au-
gust) and the highway from Luga to Krasnogvardeysk could subsequently be
taken.
On 18 August a sweeping thrust of about twenty kilometers into the re-
gion east of Volosovo succeeded as the result of heavy fighting the previous
day. More than 1,000 Red Army soldiers were captured—the biggest number
at one time since the outset of the campaign. Up to that point the number of
 78 PANZER OPERATIONS

Russians killed had usually exceeded that captured, at least as far as 6th
Panzer Division's sector was concerned. Despite this success, little terrain
was gained on 19 August, and the following day the division changed over to
defensive operations. Only 1st Panzer Division continued a limited eastward
advance in order to block the highway south of Krasnogvardeysk and cut off
the retreat of the enemy forces retreating from the Luga River defenses.
In the attempt to occupy the position as ordered, 6th Panzer Division
shifted to the east, relieving elements of 1st Panzer Division, while 36th Mo-
torized Division in turn relieved our western flank positions. We now occu-
pied a defensive line about twenty-five kilometers long, facing almost directly
north along its entire length. This assignment could be carried out only by
organizing a mobile defense anchored to a few important points of resist-
ance. The days that followed, to 7 September, were characterized by position
warfare with much local "see-saw" activity. In the course of constant reliefs
and changes, 6th Panzer Division gradually moved southeast along the
Krasnogvardeysk front and then partially back again. Our farthest southeast
extension was reached east of Lyadino and the railroad running from Luga
to Krasnogvardeysk. On 7 September, 6th Panzer Division, supported by a
reinforced regiment from the SS Polizei [Police] Infantry Division on the right
wing, was prepared for the decisive attack along the Sigonemi-Nedlino line,
west of Krasnogvardeysk. This was also the day on which I assumed acting
command of the division.
The enemy opposite 6th Panzer Division had been relatively quiet for
some time. Russian reserves appeared to be available only in limited num-
bers, and the enemy attempted to compensate for this weakness with the ex-
tensive use of mines. The Soviets were far more active against the deep left
flank in the area held by the 36th Motorized Division, where Russian artillery
and local forces along our flanks tried to block the road to Leningrad be-
tween Kingisepp and Begunizy. This general situation delayed the start of the
attack, which was intended to be the decisive offensive toward Leningrad, by
twenty-four hours, and then again to 9 September. When the assault began,
the SS Polizei Infantry Division was committed to move directly against
Krasnogvardeysk on 6th Panzer Division's right, while the 1st Panzer Divi-
sion (having just been moved up) and the 36th Motorized Division attacked
on our left. The Duderhof Heights, about ten kilometers north of Krasnog-
vardeysk, was the first common objective.

Breaching the Leningrad Line

The Russians had transformed the outpost area before Leningrad into a
dense defensive system. In particular, the defenses at Krasnogvardeysk had
 THE GATEWAY TO LENINGRAD 79

been prepared long in advance and consisted of an outer belt of concrete and
earth bunkers, with numerous intermediate installations, all interconnected
by easily defensible trench systems. Tank-proof watercourses or swamps ran
along nearly the entire front of the outer defenses. At the few points this nat-
ural protection was lacking, wide antitank ditches had been dug.
At a distance of 1,000-3,000 meters behind the outer defenses, there was
an inner belt consisting of a heavily fortified position encircling the periph-
ery of the town. Just north of Krasnogvardeysk ran the continuous
Leningrad Line, into which the town's defenses were integrated. This line
constituted, simultaneously, the rear protection for Krasnogvardeysk and a
covering position in case the town had to be evacuated. Beyond the open, el-
evated terrain immediately west of Krasnogvardeysk lay an extensive forest
zone. Within that area—a few hundred meters from its eastern fringe—ran
the western front of the outer defensive belt. At that point the defenses con-
sisted of wood-and-earth bunkers, trenches, and individual strongpoints,
with all approaches barricades by minefields, abatis, and multiple rows of
barbed wire. Located one or two kilometers in front of these obstacles were
mobile security detachments, attached to which were engineers prepared to
scatter additional mines.
The cornerstone of this entire defensive complex was the heavily mined
and fortified village of Salyzy, located at the southern end of the forest zone.
This village covered a road leading to Krasnogvardeysk from the west; the
road forked in the middle of town with a branch heading north. The north-
ern branch served as the Russian supply route for all the troops deployed to
the west in the forest; it crossed the dammed-up Ishora River via a bridge lo-
cated just in front of the Leningrad Line, traversing the line in a northwest-
erly direction. At that point the Leningrad Line consisted of four successive
trench systems, bristling with numerous machine-gun, antitank-gun, and ar-
tillery bunkers.
On September 9, the 6th Panzer Division advanced toward Krasnog-
vardeysk from the west, its first assignment to break through the Leningrad
Line in the vicinity of Salyzy to open up Krasnogvardeysk for an attack from
the rear. I based my plan of attack on precise aerial reconnaissance photo-
graphs provided by the Luftwaffe, deciding to push with concentrated force
through the outer defense belt at Salyzy, follow through with a thrust north
to break through the Leningrad Line, and then roll it up toward the east. The
division's main body attacked on the road and then along the edge of the for-
est that ran parallel to it, seizing the antitank ditch after a brief engagement.
By noon we had also captured Salyzy, which required storming a large num-
ber of bunkers. One particular bunker at the edge of the forest continued to
offer resistance until late afternoon.
 80 PANZER OPERATIONS

Immediately after breaking into the village, Kampfgruppe Koll (Colonel

Richard Koll's Panzer Regiment 11, supported by an artillery battalion and a
company of engineers) drove through the rear of the Russian-occupied forest
position and against the Leningrad Line. Covered by the fire of the panzers,
the engineers seized the undamaged bridge by a coup de main and removed
the Soviet demolition charges placed there. About six kilometers north of
Salyzy, Kampfgruppe von Seckendorff, in the wake of the panzers, penetrated
the enemy antitank ditch (which began at the bridge and ran at a right angle
to the front) and established a bridgehead. Later in the afternoon, a Soviet
counterattack managed to isolate our units across the river. That evening the
division's main body cleared the surrounding forest of Russian forces and—
with a front turned ninety degrees—assembled in the woods for a northeast
thrust to regain contact with the troops in the bridgehead. Also that evening,
Kampfgruppe Eckinger (I/Motorized Infantry Regiment 113, 6/Panzer Regi-
ment 1, and II/Panzer Artillery Regiment 73) of the 1st Panzer Division
forced a breakthrough of the inner defensive ring east of Salyzy behind a
river arm. This success came in the sector of the SS Polizei Infantry Division,
which had been stalled along its entire front. The bridgehead established by
the 1st Panzer Division opened a gateway to Krasnogvardeysk for the SS
Polizei Infantry Division.
On 10 September the bulk of the 6th Panzer Division advanced along the
road toward the northern bridgehead. I detached some elements to mop up
the remaining Russian forces on the plateau west of Krasnogvardeysk, while
others finished rolling up the enemy's forest position that had forced us to
keep a strong flank guard the previous day. In this manner the entire assault
sector south of the Leningrad Line was cleared of the enemy before noon.
Along the northern edge of the forest area alone, 40,000 Soviet mines had to
be disarmed and removed.
Once these tasks had been accomplished, I began to push battalion after
battalion through the bridgehead into the three-kilometer-long antitank ditch
that ran into the forest area. These battalions managed to infiltrate so far to
the north that they completely penetrated all four defensive positions in the
Leningrad Line, and I was able to position four battalions (plus tanks) to roll
up all the lines simultaneously. The Soviets launched a desperate attempt to
repel this attack with cavalry, which we easily foiled. The antitank ditch was
about four meters wide and deep, and possession of it made it feasible to
change the attack front of the entire division again by ninety degrees at a sin-
gle stroke. Bunker after bunker and strongpoint after strongpoint now received
the attention of Stukas, medium artillery, antitank guns, and flak while being
attacked by infantry in the flank and rear. All of my divisional artillery had
remained in position south of the Leningrad Line, perfectly positioned so that
 THE GATEWAY TO LENINGRAD 81

its fire formed a complete flanking curtain in front of the attacking battalions.
Step by step the trenches and final nests of resistance were cleaned out.
We reached the railroad running through the attack area that afternoon
and the Krasnogvardeysk-Leningrad highway on 11 September. There we
captured a group of artillery pillboxes that were equipped with disappearing
armored cupolas. At that point, 6th Panzer Division stood directly in the rear
of Krasnogvardeysk. Forced to retreat in a hurry, the Russians had only one
side road available for their withdrawal, and that road lay under the effective
artillery fire of Panzer Artillery Regiment 76. As the Soviets poured back over
this road and the adjoining terrain, Lieutenant Colonel Grundherr's batter-
ies inflicted serious losses on them. The first Red Army forces to attempt a
disengagement—their motorized medium artillery—tried to escape on the
wide asphalt road through Pushkin. Colonel Koll's panzers, however, had al-
ready blocked the road, with the result that the Russian artillery and all other
motor vehicles were set afire by our tanks as they tried to break through.
During the night of 11-12 September, the bulk of the Russian infantry—
though badly mauled—-managed to evacuate Krasnogvardeysk and escape,
reestablishing itself with strong rear guards on the high ground between
Krasnogvardeysk and Pushkin.
On 12 September the pursuing infantry divisions of L Corps (SS Polizei
and 269th Infantry Divisions) bogged down before the heavily fortified posi-
tions. Here the Soviets had employed the most modern system of field forti-
fications that we ever encountered in four years of war. All of the fortified in-
stallations were underground. The defense was carried out in subterranean
passages that had been established along terrain steps and equipped with
well-camouflaged firing embrasures. They had likewise concealed their
heavy weapons in underground emplacements that were invisible from the
outside. These emplacements included subterranean rooms, capable of quar-
tering ten to twenty men each, along with ammunition dumps, supply in-
stallations, and medical facilities. Tunnels connected virtually all of these
positions, and their entrances had been situated several hundred meters to
the rear, completely concealed by shrubbery and groups of trees. These en-
trance passages were also protected by open trenches and several standard
bunkers, which could not be discerned until an attacker reached close range.
Neither ground reconnaissance nor the Luftwaffe spotted this fortification
system; even after the Russian heavy weapons opened fire, the infantry divi-
sions of L Corps could not determine their locations. This made it impossi-
ble to neutralize the enemy artillery, and all frontal assaults by the infantry
failed as well.
Not until 13 September was it possible to clarify the situation and capture
the position. By that time 6th Panzer Division, which had been committed as
 82 PANZER OPERATIONS

an encircling force maneuvering via Posyolok Taytsy, had begun pivoting into
the rear of the Russian fortifications. An odd coincidence now played into
our hands. The previous evening [12 September], I had sent strong recon-
naissance patrols into the high ground. Suddenly encountering the rearmost
outlying bunker of the whole defensive system, the young officers in com-
mand seized the bunker by a storm, without waiting for orders. Among the
captured garrison was the Red Army engineer who had supervised the con-
struction of the defenses. With him, the plans to all installations fell into our
hands, and it was easy to plan the attack for the next day.
However, the attack by Lieutenant Colonel von Waldenfels's Motorized
Infantry Regiment 4 had barely gotten started when a new difficulty arose.
Recognizing the danger to their frontally impregnable position, the Russians
launched an attack out of Pushkin into our rear. Except for a single battery
of 88mm flak, the only support available to the infantry battalion that con-
stituted our rear guard was Lieutenant Colonel Siebert's II Battalion, Panzer
Regiment 11, equipped only with PzKw 35ts. A long column of tanks, the
end of which could not even be surmised in the dust, rolled into our rear-
guard elements. The first of the enemy tanks—a vanguard of more than fifty
of the super-heavy KV-1s—quickly passed the narrow strip of firm ground
between the swamps and turned against the defended positions.
The heavy flak guns were already thundering. Flames from tanks that had
sustained direct hits rose straight into the sky. The KV-1s at the head of the
Russian formation spread out but kept moving forward. Suddenly the
enemy's lead element came under a hail of fire at close range from Panzer-
jaeger Battalion 616, which had just arrived with twenty-seven heavy anti-
tank guns. Fourteen columns of black smoke announced to the Soviet main
body that its vanguard was being destroyed. Thereupon the bulk of the Russ-
ian armor abruptly halted, no longer daring to try the narrow passage
through the swamp; its rear elements fanned out and disappeared into the
adjoining terrain.
The remainder of Panzer Regiment 11, which had been summoned by
radio, now went into action. From division headquarters we heard the un-
mistakable sounds of heavy tank fighting. Soon the din increased, as the
panzer regiments of the neighboring 1st and 8th Panzer Divisions, which
had also responded to the summons, attacked the Russian flank and rear.
Realizing his position had become quite precarious, the Soviet commander
no longer felt himself equal to the task. Even his KV-1s, only fourteen of
which had our flak and heavy antitank guns been able to destroy, turned and
fled. Withdrawing the bulk of his force, the enemy commander had avoided
a decisive showdown, but the threat to the division's rear had thus been
eliminated.
 THE GATEWAY TO LENINGRAD 83

In the meantime, however, Colonel Waldenfels's attack, supported by

Colonel Siebert's panzers, continued according to plan. In heavy fighting the
bunkers and squad trenches protecting the enemy's rear fell one by one, and
we reached the entrances to the subterranean defensive system. During the
fighting for the first entrance, the crew resisted from an inner compartment
with small arms and hand grenades. In this action three Red Army medical
corps women in uniform, who defended the entrance with hand grenades,
were killed. As their bodies were being removed, several more hand grenades
were found on them.
Mopping up the underground passages was time-consuming and difficult.
Colonel von Waldenfels had to accomplish this by using specially trained
shock troops with hand grenades and machine-pistols. His attempts to clear
out the strong bunker crews led to bitter hand-to-hand fighting with heavy
losses on both sides, as the Russian soldiers defended themselves to the ut-
most. The attack stalled. Only after engineer demolition teams had managed
to determine the location of the remaining bunkers, by noting the sparser
growth of grass above them, could these bunkers be blown open by demoli-
tion charges from above and then captured. Even so, the closer that our shock
troops came to the front-line positions of the defensive system, the more se-
rious became the losses. Both our engineer demolition teams and infantry
were advancing above the Russian defenses, which necessitated walking di-
rectly into the heavy artillery fire supporting the frontal assaults of L Corps's
infantry divisions. Only when my signal troops managed to establish round-
about telephone communications with L Corps headquarters was it possible
finally to complete the conquest of the subterranean defensive system. A
junction was then effected with the infantry advancing from the other side.
At almost the same time, advancing in the wake of the retreat of the Russian
armor, we also succeeded in occupying Pushkin. That afternoon, Colonel
von Waldenfels's troops captured the entrenched headquarters of the Russ-
ian Forty-second Army, which had been entrusted with the defense of
Leningrad.
That the soldiers of the Red Army continued to resist with dogged perse-
verance even under hopeless conditions could in large measure be credited to
the soldierly conduct of the commissars. For example, long after the castle at
Posyolok Taytsy had been taken, and we had drawn up strong units in the
castle park, tanks from Panzer Regiment 11 passing near the park wall with
open hatches reported drawing single rounds of rifle fire from close range.
The shots were aimed at the unprotected tank commanders as they looked
out of the turrets. Not until three of our men had been killed by bullets
through the head did the company's officers realize that the shots were com-
ing from a narrow trench close under the park wall, about ten meters away.
 84 PANZER OPERATIONS

The tanks immediately returned fire, whereupon all thirteen occupants of

the trench met death. They were officers of a Russian regimental headquar-
ters, grouped about their commissar, who fell with his rifle cocked and
aimed.
Leningrad was now within sight.
Our troops were convinced that Soviet resistance outside Leningrad had
been broken and that a continuation of the attack—at least in 6th Panzer Di-
vision's sector—would have led directly into the city. Abruptly, however, on
14 September we received orders from above to discontinue the offensive.
Nobody understood this measure. The following day, 6th Panzer Division
was ordered out of the line, except for the division's artillery. The movements
necessary to withdraw from the battle were completed on 16 September. In
the morning of 17 September the division received orders to begin moving
that evening in the direction of Luga-Pskov, followed after several days by
marches through Nevel and into the area of Army Group Center.
With that fight the most tenacious Russian defensive battles of 1941, be-
tween Krasnogvardeysk and Leningrad, came to an end. Within a week, 6th
Panzer Division had managed to break through and roll up twelve positions,
repulsed several counterattacks, and captured 248 bunkers (among which
were more than twenty-five concrete and steel bunkers with armored cupo-
las).
In true blitzkrieg manner, 6th Panzer Division had rolled across Lithuania
and Latvia within a few days, overrun every enemy position in its way, bro-
ken through the Stalin Line, crossed the Dvina River, and opened the gate-
way to Leningrad on the Luga River—all within three weeks of its day of de-
parture. This 800-kilometer trip led through dust and sand, woods and
swamps, and across river and antitank ditches. The flexible leadership at the
regimental and battalion levels in a battle-tested division, and the elan with
which our veteran troops attacked, made it possible to overcome every ob-
stacle during our eighty-six-day advance from East Prussia to a point just
short of Leningrad.
Chapter 5

MOSCOW

Vyazma

AT THE VERY TIME THAT THE capture o f Leningrad appeared in-

evitable, 6th Panzer Division was called to assume a leading part in the at-
tack toward Moscow. Once again the division moved with lightning speed
and covered nearly 1,000 kilometers to join Panzer Group 3 in Army Group
Center.
Committed as the spearhead of General of Panzer Troops Ferdinand
Schaal's LVI Panzer Corps on the first day of the offensive [2 October], we
thrust over thirty kilometers, quickly reached the upper Dnepr, and captured
two bridges there by coup de main. That movement cut off Russian forces
that were still west of the river and ensured that Panzer Group 3 could con-
tinue its thrust to the east.
That night I ordered the renewed employment, by the entire division, of
the defensive hedgehog tactics that Kampfgruppe Raus had routinely utilized
in its drive through the Baltic countries. The troops deployed into an elabo-
rate system of hedgehog positions just east of the river. I knew that in our
rear and along our flanks the bypassed and defeated Red Army divisions
would be withdrawing under cover of darkness. At one point a retreating
Russian rifle corps staff sought refuge in the small, isolated village in the for-
est wherein we had established division headquarters. Enemy troop units
were moving all around the entire system of panzer hedgehogs as soon as
darkness fell. As long as the tanks of Panzer Regiment 11 were on their own,
the intermittent firing of flares and machine guns indicated their uneasiness
with this situation. This changed a few hours later as Motorized Infantry
Regiments 4 and 114, along with Motorcycle Battalion 6, arrived at the
bridgehead. By the time that the divisional artillery and engineers had ar-
rived to be integrated into the defensive system, a restful night was had by all.
Early the next morning, however, the Russian units in the area departed very

85
 86 PANZER OPERATIONS

quietly: They had been unable to find any rest in the immediate vicinity of a
German panzer division.
On 3 October, as 6th Panzer Division resumed its eastward march toward
Kholm, the Russians attempted to parry the German offensive by means of
an armored flank attack. One hundred tanks drove from the south against
the road hub at Kholm. For the most part these were only medium tanks,
against which I initially dispatched a single battalion of PzKw 35ts and the
6th Company (APC) of Motorized Infantry Regiment 114. This weak force
proved sufficient to contain the potentially dangerous thrust until flak and
antitank guns could be organized into an adequate antitank security line be-
tween Kholm and the southern Dnepr bridge.
Their tanks split up into small groups by the forest, the Russians never
succeeded in organizing a powerful, unified armored thrust. Their lead ele-
ments were eliminated piecemeal as they encountered the antitank front. As
a result, the Soviet commander became even more timid and scattered his ve-
hicles across the breadth and depth of the battlefield in such a manner that
all subsequent tank thrusts, carried out in detail and by small groups, could
be met by our antitank weapons and smashed. Kholm and the Dnepr bridge,
as well as their connecting road (which the Russians had already taken under
intermittent tank fire), remained in our hands. After eighty Russian tanks
had been put out of action, the division's main body broke through the last
line of strong fortifications on the eastern bank of the Dnepr, which had
been occupied by the last Soviet reserves, and we were able to continue the
drive to the east without concern for the remaining Russian tanks. Thus the
flank attack by 100 Soviet tanks near Kholm had succeeded in delaying 6th
Panzer Division's advance only for a matter of hours.
From Kholm the 6th and 7th Panzer Divisions rolled along parallel roads
toward Vyazma (6th Panzer Division to the south through Khmelita, and 7th
Panzer Division to the north through Dernova). Hastily assembled Russian
tank and rifle units, supported by several batteries of medium artillery, at-
tempted to stop our advance by attacking 6th Panzer Division's open right
flank, which soon stretched over forty kilometers. Many of the Soviet batter-
ies that had been emplaced to defend the Dnepr front remained in position
and merely turned their guns around, while others rushed up at full speed
and assumed firing positions in the open. Infantry and tanks advanced in a
widespread chain against our march columns, and the artillery immediately
opened fire as each battery managed to shift its front.
This attack also turned out badly for the Russians, as both 6th and 7th
Panzer Divisions instantly responded with a barrage of all weapons. The di-
visions resembled a mighty battleship, smashing all targets within reach with
the heavy caliber of its broadsides. Artillery and mortar shells from 300
 MOSCOW 87

throats of fire hailed down on the Soviet batteries and tanks. Soon the Russ-
ian tanks were in flames, the batteries transformed into smoking heaps of
rubble, and the lines of skirmishers swept away by a swath of fire from hun-
dreds of machine guns. This work of destruction consumed no more than
twenty minutes. Hardly pausing, the two panzer divisions continued their
advance, reaching Vyazma the same day [10 October]. There, linking up with
the 10th Panzer Division of Panzer Group 4, which had fought its way up
from the south, we completed the encirclement of 400,000 Russians.
During these operations the Red Army employed so-called mine dogs for
destroying our tanks. In the manner of pack animals, medium-sized dogs
carried demolition charges that were connected to a spindle fastened to the
dog's back. The dogs had been trained to hide under approaching tanks. In
so doing, the animal would inadvertently bring the upright spindle (about fif-
teen centimeters long) into contact with the belly of the tank and set off the
charge.
News of this insidious tactic caused some alarm among our panzer units
and made them fire at all approaching dogs on sight. There is no evidence of
any case where a German tank was destroyed by a mine dog. On the other
hand, it has been reported that several times mine dogs fleeing from the fire
of our panzers sought protection underneath Russian tanks, which promptly
blew up. One thing is certain: The specter of the mine dogs ceased just as
abruptly as it had begun.

Mud on the Road to Moscow

The German army had no conception of mud as it exists in European Rus-

sia. Soon after the victory at Vyazma, when our front-line troops were al-
ready stuck fast, Hitler and OKH still believed that the mud could be con-
quered by main force, an idea that led to serious losses of vehicles and
equipment. Large-scale operations quickly became impossible. The muddy
season of autumn 1941 was more severe than any other muddy season expe-
rienced during World War I or World War II. Even during the first stages,
cart and dirt roads became impassable, and major roads soon became mud-
choked. Supply trucks broke through the gravel-topped roads and churned
up traffic lanes until even courier service had to be carried out with tracked
vehicles. By the height of the muddy season, tractors and wreckers normally
capable of traversing difficult terrain had become helpless, and attempts to
plow through the muddy mass made the roads even more impassable. Tanks,
heavy wreckers, and even vehicles with good ground clearance simply pushed
an ever-growing wall of mud before them until they finally ground to a halt,
half-buried by their own motion. Eventually, only horse-drawn vehicles could
 88 PANZER OPERATIONS

move; all other transport and the bulk of the tanks and artillery were
stopped dead.
Pursuit of the beaten Russians was impossible, and only divisions that had
gained the all-weather Bryansk-Orel-Tula road could move. Units became
separated and intermingled, with only scattered elements in contact with the
enemy. The bulk of Army Group Center's forces stuck fast or could move
only fitfully forward in short marches. Motor vehicles broke down with
clutch or motor trouble. Horses became exhausted and collapsed. Roads
were littered with dead draft animals. Few tanks were serviceable. Trucks and
horse-drawn wagons bogged down.
German losses in tanks and motorized equipment of all types were ex-
traordinarily high. Panzer Group 2, operating in the Orel area, lost 60 per-
cent of its remaining tanks in the mud. The 10th Panzer Division of Panzer
Group 4, operating north of Gzhatsk, lost fifty tanks without a shot being
fired, thirty-five of them within three days. A sudden frost in late October ce-
mented one of 6th Panzer Division's crippled, buried panzer columns into a
state of complete uselessness, and it never moved again. Because we could
not reach it any other way, gasoline, towropes, and food supplies had to be
air-dropped along this line of stranded armor, but all attempts to move
proved futile. These losses proved especially serious since no replacements
were being received. Often in situations like this, when drivers found them-
selves bogged down far from any habitation, they abandoned their vehicles
and set out on foot to contact friendly troops in the nearest village, or sought
food and shelter from local civilians in order to remain alive until the worst
of the muddy season had passed. At that time Germany was only producing
eighty-five tanks and forty assault guns each month.
Concerning the state of 6th Panzer Division's armor, I reported on 31 Oc-
tober:

The average distance driven by our Panzers was 11,500 kilometers for
PzKw II, 12,500 for PzKw 35t, 11,000 for PzKw IV, and 3,200 for command
tanks. The special situation in regard to repair of the PzKw 35t is well
known. It is indeed deemed necessary to point out that repairs can be ac-
complished only by cannibalizing other Panzers because there are no
longer any spare parts for the PzKw 35t. This means that after retrieval of
the Panzers that are scattered around the terrain, a maximum of ten can
actually be repaired out of the forty-one PzKw 35ts reported as needing re-
pair. The PzKw 35ts can no longer be rebuilt. All of the components are
worn out. To be practical, perhaps the armored hulls are still salvageable.
 MOSCOW 89

The few railroads of European Russia are the only means of long-distance
transportation during the muddy season, and the overburdening of their fa-
cilities was inevitable. Operating schedules were disrupted because muddy
highways prevented access to the railheads. Repairs to damaged track con-
sumes endless time, because labor and materials had to be transported by rail
to the damaged places. The right of ways had to be restored step by step, as
simultaneous work on several sections of track was out of the question. Sup-
ply shipments suffered serious delays: In some areas in Army Group Center
the supply flow became so constricted that operations came to a complete
halt. Many units found themselves without bread for days and to live off the
land and such local food supplies as the Red Army had not already de-
stroyed. Requisitioning of food in unoccupied territory was possible only
with strong parties, because such areas were infested with partisans and scat-
tered Russian soldiers.
In early December the divisional war diary recorded the following:

The combination of the heavy battle casualties over the past few days with
the falling temperatures (at noon averaging 25°F; at night averaging -32°F)
have caused a severe decline in the division's combat strength. The current
combat strength follows:

Motorized Infantry Regiment 4: 12 officers and 556 men

Motorized Infantry Regiment 114: 9 officers and 332 men
Motorcycle Battalion 6: 3 officers and 149 men
Total infantry strength: 19 officers and 784 men
Average infantry company: 1 officer and 30 men

We recorded the daily mean temperature during the first part of Decem-
ber as follows:

1 December 19°F
2 December 22°F
3 December 16°F
4 December -32°F
5 December -34°F
6 December -35°F
7 December -36°F
8 December 22°F
9 December 18°F
 90 PANZER OPERATIONS

Retreat from Moscow

The winter of 1941-1942 was the most severe in European Russia in 100
years. In the area northwest of Moscow the mean temperature during Janu-
ary 1942 was -32°F, with the lowest recorded temperature (-63°F) during the
entire Russian campaign occurring in the same area on 26 January. Our
troops, if they had any winter clothing at all, carried only the regular issue
overcoat, sweater, bellyband, and hood designed for winter wear in Germany.
The bulk of the winter garments donated by the German populace did not
reach the soldiers at the front until the end of January, after the cold had
done its worst damage. Commanders at all levels attempted to meet the
emergency through improvisation. Several divisions helped themselves by or-
ganizing large sewing workrooms in nearby Russian cities and towns. From
used blankets and old clothing, local workers produced flannel waistbands,
earmuffs, waistcoats, footcloths, and mittens with separate thumbs and
index fingers. We also managed to requisition fur garments and felt boots
from local inhabitants for a small number of men, while also acquiring some
winter clothing from dead Red Army soldiers. Any of the troops possessing
extra underwear wore one set on top of the other; division and army supply
dumps immediately issued all supplies of underclothing. Eventually, most
men were able to protect their heads and ears, at least partially, by using rags
and waistbands. Nonetheless, during that first crucial winter outside
Moscow, the available supply of winter clothing proved sufficient for only a
small percentage of our forces. Needless to say, the severe cold drastically re-
duced the efficiency of our soldiers and their weapons.
At the beginning of December, 6th Panzer Division stood but fourteen
kilometers from Moscow and twenty-four kilometers from the Kremlin. At
that moment a sudden drop in the temperature to -30°F, coupled with a sur-
prise attack by Siberian troops, smashed Third Panzer Army's drive on
Stalin's capital. By building 6th Panzer Division's defense around Colonel
Koll's last five panzers, we held off the initial attack by the Siberians, who
presented prime targets in their brown uniforms as they trudged forward
through the deep snow. This local success facilitated the division's disen-
gagement and provided time for the destruction of our last 88mm flak guns.
(This became necessary because no prime movers were left; we lost twenty-
five to the autumn mud, and in November the last seven fell victim to cold
and snow.)
Elements of Army Group Center, including Third Panzer Army, held out
to the northwest of Moscow until 5 December; the following day OKH is-
sued the first retreat order of the war. In the months of the offensive, our bat-
 MOSCOW 91

talions and companies had dwindled to a handful of men, while Russian mud
and winter wreaked havoc on their weapons and equipment. Neither the
leadership of the officers nor the personal bravery of the soldiers could com-
pensate for the diminished firepower of our divisions. Thus the numerical su-
periority of the Red Army, aided by the climactic conditions, saved Moscow
and turned the tide of the battle. Hitler had neither expected nor planned for
a winter war.
Sixth Panzer Division's withdrawal began smoothly enough on 6 De-
cember, but the next day, while moving over hilly terrain, our vehicles skid-
ded helplessly on the icy roads. Trucks that had been abandoned in the
final attack toward Moscow now blocked the roads for our retreat, adding
to the difficulties. Apprehensive that the pursuing Russians would overtake
and destroy our rear guards if time were wasted in extricating each vehicle,
I ordered as much equipment as possible loaded on the few surviving trucks
and had the remainder put to the torch. At the same time, I reinforced the
rear guard with nearly all of our available infantry and deliberately slowed
the pace of the retirement. We now fell back in brief delaying actions based
on villages. Inhabited places had become critical to the survival of our sol-
diers, who lacked winter clothing, and were attractive to the Russians as
well, because they preferred permanent-type shelter for their assault
troops. In a very real sense, the retreat devolved into a race from village to
village.
In a few days the retreat reached Klin, a vital road junction northwest of
Moscow. Unfortunately, 6th Panzer Division could not use the town to house
the division overnight, as it was on the main route of other divisions stream-
ing west and the centerpiece of LVI Panzer Corps's defensive effort. We were,
however, lucky enough to find a large quantity of explosives in Klin, and our
engineers used these to blast temporary shelters in the ground outside the
city. Attempts to obtain dirt from the blasted shelters to sand the roads
proved futile, because the explosions loosed great chunks of solidly frozen
earth that could not be pulverized. The 6th Panzer Division held before Klin
for twenty-four hours, then completed its withdrawal across the four-lane
Smolensk-Moscow highway.
Though numerically superior, the enemy never succeeded in enveloping
and annihilating our rear guards, because he could not employ his heavy
weapons in frontal attacks through deep snow without suffering prohibitive
losses. This meant that for attempted envelopments the Russians had to rely
on cavalry, ski troops, and infantry mounted on sleighs who were unable to
take their heavy weapons with them. The striking power that the Soviets were
thus able to bring forward was insufficient to overwhelm our defenses.
 92 PANZER OPERATIONS

Contributing to the Russian failure to destroy Army Group Center in the

initial onslaught was the fact that Soviet air activity during the withdrawal
was ineffective, being limited to scattered sorties of a few planes, which
strafed columns or dropped small fragmentation bombs. During air alerts
our troops burrowed into the snow at least 100 meters from the road. Some
casualties resulted from delayed-action bombs when soldiers failed to remain
down long enough after the missiles had been dropped. If the Russians had
used strong bomber forces, the results could have been disastrous. As it was,
our losses to enemy air attacks were inconsequential compared to casualties
from cold weather and insufficient clothing.
By mid-December, when this phase of the withdrawal ended, 6th Panzer
Division was located in Shakovskaya to refit and receive reinforcements. On
Christmas Eve, Motorized Infantry Regiment 4, which had received the first
replacements, was alerted to counterattack Russian forces that had broken
through the 106th Infantry Division on the Lama River, west of Voloko-
lamsk. Colonel Waldenfels's men moved out in a snowstorm on 26 Decem-
ber over roads already covered with deep drifts. Because his infantry was in-
adequately clothed, lengthy warming halts had to be made in every village,
and the regiment required two days to cover the nineteen kilometers to the
line of departure for the attack.
After a hot meal and a night's rest, Motorized Infantry Regiment 4 at-
tacked on 28 December, in conjunction with local reserves. Well supported
by artillery and heavy weapons, Colonel Waldenfels made steady progress
throughout the day; by evening he had made contact with the neighboring
23rd Infantry Division to the north, thus closing the gap. The troops located
shelter in nearby villages and farmhouses. As they settled in for the evening,
strong security detachments were posted and relieved every half-hour be-
cause of the extreme cold.
The plan for 29 December called for regaining the 106th Infantry Divi-
sion's original positions on the Lama River by enveloping the Russian forces
that had penetrated the defenses. Colonel von Waldenfels's regiment at-
tacked eastward, while Motorcycle Battalion 6 advanced from the south to-
ward Vladychino. By noon the Soviet breakthrough force had been sur-
rounded. Night temperatures dropped to between —30°F and -40°F, and no
shelter was available to the troops holding the perimeter. Nearby villages had
been destroyed in the fighting, and the entrenchments of the old German po-
sitions on the Lama were buried deep in the snow. To remain exposed would
have meant certain death for troops lacking winter clothing, and Colonel von
Waldenfels reluctantly ordered a withdrawal to a more distant village. When
the Russians observed that the encirclement had been abandoned, they con-
centrated for a new breakthrough that eventually forced a retirement of the
 MOSCOW 93

entire German front in that sector. Success had turned into failure because
we were not equipped to withstand extreme cold.
The ultimate result of this failure was that, during the final days of De-
cember, 6th Panzer Division found itself dislodged from the chain of villages
around Shakovskaya and forced back into a large wooded region. I now faced
two equally bad alternatives. If I ordered a withdrawal through the woods to
the next group of villages, the division risked envelopment and defeat in de-
tail. On the other hand, attempting to establish a defensive line in the woods
or between the indefensible villages, without winter clothing and in temper-
atures now averaging -49°F, promised certain death from exposure. During
Colonel von Waldenfels's brief battle near the Lama River, which had of ne-
cessity taken place in open terrain, the daily casualties from frostbite had in-
creased at an alarming rate: By 3 January 1942 our clearing stations reported
that moderate and severe frostbite cases were arriving at the rate of 800 per
day. At that rate the division would cease to exist in a week.
If we were to survive, much less hold our line, shelters and bunkers (with
whatever heating facilities could be installed) had to be constructed immedi-
ately. Such defensive works could not be constructed, however, because the
single corps and two divisional engineer battalions available contained no
more than forty to sixty men each and had lost all their heavy equipment. On
the other hand, a large quantity of explosives had just arrived. In view of the
critical situation, I ordered the engineer battalion commanders to disregard
the frost and to blast enough craters into the solidly frozen ground along the
tentative main battle line to provide shelter for all the combat troops, in-
cluding tactical reserves. These craters were to be echeloned in width and
depth and were to be large enough to hold three to five soldiers. Any acces-
sible lumber was utilized to cover the craters. I also instructed the engineers
to mine certain areas and place tank obstacles along three key routes. The re-
serves, as well as all divisional service troops, were required to pack down
paths between the craters, as well as paths leading back to the rear.
The blasting along the entire line commenced early the next morning [4
January]. The noise of the 10,000-pound explosive charges somehow gave
the impression of a heavy artillery barrage. Fountains of earth rose all
around, and dense smoke filled the air. The Russians watched with surprise,
not at all sure what was happening, and therefore remained quiet. By noon
the blasting had been completed, and by nightfall the combat units had oc-
cupied the now-covered craters. Soon afterward smoke rose from the craters
where the gun crews kept warm at open fires. The craters formed an unin-
terrupted string of positions in front of which we established security out-
posts. A maze of abatis lay in front of these, guns had been emplaced along
the roads behind the tank obstacles, and in one stroke the entire division
 94 PANZER OPERATIONS

front had been made ready for defense within twelve hours of the first deto-
nation. The engineers who prepared these positions in the fiercest cold and
thereby suffered 40 percent frostbite casualties had saved the combat units
and restored the situation through their sacrifice. By 5 January the overall di-
visional casualties from frostbite dropped from 800 to four cases and subse-
quently ceased for all practical purposes. This position subsequently with-
stood all Soviet attacks and was not abandoned until ten days later, in milder
weather, when the adjacent units on both flanks found themselves forced to
withdraw after Russian tanks penetrated their lines.
This improvisation was ordered at a time when 6th Panzer Division had
lost all of its tanks during the preceding withdrawal. Before blasting these
positions, fighting had centered on the possession of the villages that alone
offered shelter from the extreme cold. Groups of villages had formed natu-
ral phase lines for both attackers and defenders, who found themselves forced
to ignore almost every other tactical consideration. Whenever the Russians
failed to capture a village by day, they withdrew to the last friendly village for
the night. Not even the best-equipped Siberian troops attempted to continue
an attack on a village after dark. Blasting positions in the open terrain there-
fore represented an innovation that served the double purpose of stabilizing
the front line and maintaining the combat efficiency of the remnants of the
division.
Chapter 6

WINTER WAR

Crisis Behind Ninth Army

ON 17 JANUARY 1 9 4 2 AT KARMONOVO, exactly where the division

had once freed itself from the shackles of the mud and had begun to thrust
toward Moscow, its remnants now regrouped, worn out from fighting the
cold and the snow. The enormous losses in men and equipment, from which
the German army was never quite able to recover again, is evidence of how
hard the fighting for Moscow was. The 6th Panzer Division, which had
fought under particularly difficult conditions, lost 80 percent of its infantry-
men and cannons, 100 percent of its tanks and heavy weapons, and the bulk
of its motor vehicles. All that remained of the combat troops, collected to-
gether in Kampfgruppe Zollenkopf, were the following:

Motorized Infantry Regiment 4: two consolidated companies

Motorized Infantry Regiment 114: two consolidated companies
Panzer Artillery Regiment 76: four consolidated companies (fighting as in-
fantry under 11/76 headquarters)

Neither Motorcycle Battalion 6, Engineer Battalion 57, Panzer Reconnais-

sance Battalion 57, nor Panzer Regiment 11 could be fielded as separate com-
bat units due to excessive losses. The remainder of Panzer Artillery Regiment
76 had been consolidated under its I (Light) and III (Heavy) Battalions into
batteries manning the division's surviving twenty-four pieces of field ar-
tillery. After the terrible hemorrhage of the December fighting, the remain-
ing staffs and the supply and rear elements assembled sixty-five kilometers
behind the front line for the purpose or reorganizing the division. Every day
a few tankers, artillerymen, and others who had escaped the carnage trickled
into the divisional area. As soon as they arrived, we pressed them into serv-
ice to help guard the highway and railroad between Smolensk and Vyazma—
96 PANZER OPERATIONS
 WINTER WAR 97

the lifelines for both the Fourth and Ninth Armies—against attacks by Russ-
ian cavalry, parachute troops, and partisans who had penetrated deep into
the rear areas. By mid-February, these returning stragglers and replacements
received had brought 6th Panzer Division's total combat strength (Gefecht-
starke) to about 3,000 men and a handful of operational tanks.
An examination of the general situation at Army Group Center in late
January 1942 reveals how complicated the tactical situation had become. In
the wake of the December Russian counteroffensive, our front had taken on
the appearance of an intricate maze. Each of the armies on Army Group
Center's northern flank (Third, Fourth, and Ninth Panzer) commanded sev-
eral front sectors, the direction of which sometimes varied by as much as 180
degrees. This curious structure developed because we lacked sufficient forces
to organize and hold a compact, rigid battle line. Since Hitler had emphati-
cally prohibited any retrograde movements, each unit clung tenaciously to its
supply routes, the loss of which in deep winter would have meant the anni-
hilation of the German army just as Napoleon's army had once been de-
stroyed. As a result, our troops never suffered from lack of ammunition and
food, despite frequent enemy disruption of supply shipments.
The Russians, on the other hand, had been pouring divisions into nearly
impassable and heavily wooded terrain in their attempt to cut our retreating
armies to pieces. By mid-January Soviet soldiers found themselves compelled
to eat their horses (and ultimately even the skins of their horses) to keep from
starving. Russian artillery suffered such a crippling ammunition shortage
that batteries were not able to fire more than five to ten shells per day. This
state of affairs explains the fact that Army Group Center's front, which due
to its unusual irregularity had increased from 500 to 1,800 kilometers (the
distance between Vienna and Madrid), could be held for several months by
very weak units, composed for the most part of supply and service elements.
Moreover, it subsequently proved possible to evacuate exposed positions
without suffering any losses.
The Red Army had first driven southward and then turned east toward the
highway connecting Vyazma-Rzhev in an attempt to cut off supplies for
Ninth Army. The field hospitals and motor pools of several divisions came
under attack, and two key airfields near Sychevka were in immediate danger
of enemy capture. In the northern sector of this penetration zone we faced a
Russian Guards rifle corps, and in the south a cavalry corps. Field Marshal
Gunther von Kluge, commanding Army Group Center, did not believe that
the overall situation permitted the release of any troops from the reorganiz-
ing 6th Panzer Division to serve as the cadre for Alarmeinheiten [Alarm
Units] that were to be improvised for immediate defensive purposes. By Jan-
uary's end, the situation had become so tense that Stalin felt justified in an-
 98 PANZER OPERATIONS

nouncing the impending annihilation of two German armies in the biggest

encirclement battle in history.
Events, however, would develop differently.
Because these Alarmeinbeiten had to be improvised and committed im-
mediately, even though no combat cadres were available, Colonel General
Walter Model, commanding Ninth Army, therefore issued orders on 30 Jan-
uary subordinating all the service and supply units in the army rear area, in-
cluding construction and road-building battalions, to my headquarters. (The
reorganizing elements of 6th Panzer Division's own combat troops were at-
tached temporarily to 1st Panzer Division.) By organizing these units for
combat and intercepting all stragglers, General Model expected me to build
up a defensive front between Sychevka and Vyazma in the most expeditious
manner. Even the Luftwaffe units at the Novo-Dugino airfield had been
placed under my control for commitment to ground operations.
The initial composition of these units included:

Senior Artillery Commander 307

(staff only)

Assault Gun Battalion 189

(minus two batteries; no vehicles)

Artillery Observation Battalion 618

(minus two batteries; no vehicles)

Engineer Training Battalion 2

(no vehicles)

Senior Construction Staff 17

Construction Staff Commands 9, 42,104

(staff only)

Road Construction Battalion 532

(no heavy weapons)

Bridge Construction Battalion 7

(minus two companies; no vehicles)

Construction Battalions 91, 208, 408

(no heavy weapons or vehicles)

Bridging Columns 5, 6, 28, 33, 35, 182,186, 442, 644, 664

(no heavy weapons; vehicles confiscated to transport reinforcements to
main front)
 WINTER WAR 99

Luftwaffe garrison and signals detachment, Novo-Dugino airfield

Improvised platoon of five damaged tanks

Within twenty-four hours the headquarters staffs of all these units had
been set to work intercepting every available officer and man in their respec-
tive areas, then forming them into Alarmeinheiten of varying strength and
composition. I ordered that special care be taken to keep men from the same
unit together: Depending on their numbers, they formed squads, platoons, or
companies under command of familiar officers. Whenever possible,
Alarmeinheiten of similar composition were organized into battalions and
two or more battalions placed under one of the staffs mentioned above. Each
element was allowed to keep the weapons and supplies it had salvaged from
its original parent unit. I instituted these procedures as a guarantee against
the unnecessary splitting up of available manpower and resources. It seemed
to me a better policy to commit units of differing strength and composition
rather than to destroy unit cohesion by equalizing numbers. Naturally, the
strength and composition of individual units had to be taken into account
when assigning defensive sectors.
Most of the troops were armed with rifles. Each company had one or two
machine guns, and some of the battalions had a few mortars and small-
caliber antitank guns that had been procured from ordnance shops in the
vicinity. Initially, only one recently repaired artillery piece was available, but
the flow of weapons and equipment improved daily as the maintenance and
repair shops made a sustained effort to send equipment back to the front.
Numerous convalescents and men returning from furlough were employed
along the rapidly forming front facing west.
We occupied the most important sectors of our sixty-five-kilometer front
on 31 January, gaps were filled the following day, and by 2 February a con-
tinuous though thinly held line had been formed. By 6 February my head-
quarters controlled 35,000 men, and we were able to improvise some
platoon-size general reserve units, including one panzer platoon with five
damaged tanks that enjoyed at least limited mobility. Frequently our newly
formed units underwent their baptism of fire on the very day of their initial
organization. Where possible, I had these Alarmeinheiten committed in sec-
tors where they could protect their own service and rear installations—a task
with which they were only too glad to comply. For the same reason Luftwaffe
units were assigned to defensive positions covering their own airfields.
Alarmeinheiten whose unit assembly areas were farther away from the new
front filled in the gaps. The Luftwaffe signal battalion of VIII Flieger Corps
 100 PANZER OPERATIONS

at Novo-Dugino laid the necessary telephone lines and connected them with
the airfield switchboard.
To understand the magnitude of this task, it should be recalled that the
crisis occurred in midwinter, with temperatures sometimes not rising above
-40°F even in daylight hours. The snow had reached a depth of roughly one
meter in the open terrain and half that in the woods. We could keep snow
shoveled off only the most important supply routes.
The terrain between Vyazma and Sychevka was slightly undulating, and
two-thirds of it was covered by forests. In the open areas numerous small vil-
lages and homesteads were located, usually grouped around a larger town.
All villages—both those in Russian and German hands—were fully occupied
by troops, and villages near the front had been prepared for all-around de-
fense. Normally, several villages would be organized to form a defensive sys-
tem in which the main town constituted the focal point. Defensive construc-
tions consisted of snow barriers (parapets) and ice bunkers in large numbers.
While the means available to us made it possible to blast several holes in the
solidly frozen ground, it proved impossible to dig trenches or erect earthen
parapets. The buildings themselves served as heated shelters and therefore
were utilized directly only for defensive purposes in emergencies. It would
not have been difficult for either side, particularly for the Germans, to have
set fire to villages by means of air attacks or artillery, thus depriving the re-
spective enemy of vital shelter. However, this generally occurred only during
heavy fighting: Both sides tended to avoid such destruction because each
counted on being able to make use of the villages in the near future. Both
sides also feared reprisals.
By 9 February we had improvised a full-strength, completely equipped
motorcycle company, utilizing men returned from furloughs and hospitals.
Several armored cars were turned over to this tactical mobile reserve, which
could then be moved swiftly to any danger point along the Rollbahn [main
supply route] connecting Sychevka and Vyazma. The men in this company
were also well-versed in skiing and carried skis on their motorcycles in order
to have cross-country mobility even when the snow was a meter deep. Lieu-
tenant Colonel Martin Unrein, commander of the decimated Motorcycle
Battalion 6, assumed personal control of this crack unit and led it in a num-
ber of local counterattacks.
The situation remained fluid. During this initial period of organization,
several Russian attacks on the Novo-Dugino airfield and the adjacent sector
to the north had to be repelled by the Alarmeinheiten. In the central sector,
opposite Tatarinka, the Soviets managed to occupy several villages before the
arrival of the Alarmeinheiten, while on the southern wing they held villages
only about one kilometer away from the highway, which allowed them to in-
 WINTER WAR 101

terdict it with mortars. At night enemy ski units infiltrated through our lines,
which were not yet continuous, and disrupted Ninth Army's supplies at sev-
eral points between Vyazma and Rzhev. In view of the extreme cold (with
nighttime temperatures sometimes dropping to -60°F) the combined village
strongpoints constituted the backbone of our defense. The intermediate ter-
rain could be guarded only by weak outposts, stationed in isolated home-
steads, while the roads were only lightly secured by patrols. Despite these dif-
ficulties, and under repeated enemy attack, the critical center sector of the
front held from the outset.
Thus the improvised front line facing west had served its initial purpose.
Within a few days we not only had manned a continuous line but also had es-
tablished contact with the forces fighting in an arc around Rzhev to the north
and with similarly improvised Fourth Army units in the south. Even so, the
Rollbahn and railroad ran so closely behind our main battle line that contin-
uous disruptions could not be prevented, and the slightest tactical setback on
the part of the Alarmeinheiten threatened to result in the complete blockage
of Ninth Army's only supply artery. The Russian attacks were all the more fa-
cilitated by the fact that in this particular sector strips of forest extended as
far as the road and railroad bridge across the Osusa River. Both General
Model and I agreed that this handicap could be remedied only by advancing
our line of outposts farther to the west, in order to gain possession of the for-
est region, which was roughly ten kilometers wide and just as deep. We real-
ized that this would involve a winter offensive in extreme cold and deep snow,
conducted at least in part by improvised units without training in offensive
operations. Yet it had to be done. Even though General Model agreed to allow
me to utilize the somewhat reorganized Kampfgruppe Zollenkopf as the
spearhead for the initial attacks, this operation obviously could not be an of-
fensive in the usual sense, let alone a blitzkrieg. The tactics to be used neces-
sarily deviated from the conventional pattern and had to be especially suited
to the peculiarities of the prevailing situation and the forces available.

Tatarinka: The First Attack

The immediate objective of our first attack—launched on 16 February—was

to seize all villages held by the Russians in the bottom of the valley on both
sides of the Vasilevka-Tatarinka road. For this purpose Kampfgruppe Zol-
lenkopf assembled for action in the eastern portion of Natchekino and the
fringes of the forest adjoining it on both sides. Aside from the three battal-
ions previously mentioned, Colonel Zollenkopf had been reinforced by a few
tanks, flak guns, and antitank guns, as well as an infantry battalion that had
recently lost its commander. He also received the support of 6th Panzer
 102 PANZER OPERATIONS

Division's twenty-four guns and such air support as VIII Fleiger Corps could
provide.
Clearing the enemy out of the western section of Natchekino required bit-
ter fighting at close quarters. Nonetheless, Kampfgruppe Zollenkopf suc-
ceeded in breaching the strong Russian defensive fortifications and putting
the garrison to flight. After removing a variety of mines and other obstacles,
the snow was cleared from the narrow stretch of road in the erstwhile no-
man's land, thus establishing a connection to the enemy supply route. Only
then did it become possible to commit our tanks in small groups—one fol-
lowing the other—in pursuit of the fleeing Russians. The panzers scattered
the enemy troops who were falling back along both the road and streambed,
then advanced toward Vasilevka, which was the focal point of the enemy de-
fense. The sudden appearance of our panzers prevented the commitment of
the Russian reserves prior to our infantry assault on the village. As a result,
the enemy positions at Vasilevka were unable to hold out for long against the
attacks launched by the two consolidated battalions of Motorized Infantry
Regiments 4 and 114: We seized the village that same morning. The two bat-
talions, supported by the panzers, immediately pushed westward and fought
their way into Tatarinka against stiff resistance. By these three successive at-
tacks, Colonel Zollenkopf had seized the focal points of the Soviet defenses
in the area, and by operating out of Vasilevka and Tatarinka he rapidly
mopped up the remaining villages. Even before the short winter day ended,
all the captured villages were occupied and the former Red Army defensive
positions converted for our use.
Destroying the ice bunkers that had been established everywhere required
direct antitank, flak, or tank fire. In order to drive the Russians out of their
hedgehog defensive positions and the buildings in the villages, we had to en-
gage in bitter close combat with hand grenades and submachine guns. Our
losses nonetheless could be described as only moderate, thanks in large
measure to air support from the Luftwaffe and the concentrated fire of the
divisional artillery. Only weak remnants of the defeated Russian garrisons
fled into the adjacent forests where they began, as best they could, to prepare
new positions in the snow. The Russians suffered defeat so quickly because
of the absence of air support and the fact that their artillery support had
been rendered inadequate due to ammunition shortages. As a result, our at-
tack had driven a wedge fifteen kilometers deep into the Soviet defensive
front, and this provided us with the basis for subsequent operations.
Several incidents that occurred during the battle are worthy of note.
After the western half of Natchekino had been captured, the Russians
launched a counterattack from log bunker positions they had established in
the forest south of the village. They intended to strike the flank and rear of
 WINTER WAR 103

our infantry, which had already begun to advance westward toward

Vasilevka. However, as soon as the Russian soldiers reached open terrain be-
tween the forest rise and the village, our tanks (which had just moved in be-
hind the infantry) caught them with enfilade fire and inflicted heavy casual-
ties. The survivors fell back in an attempt to reach the forest positions they
had abandoned, hoping to find refuge there from the devastating fire of our
panzers. To their great consternation they were met by hostile machine-gun
fire from their own former positions. This fire emanated from Colonel
Zollen's southern detachment, which had turned into the forest while the
fighting raged in Natchekino and subsequently reached and occupied the
abandoned Russian bunkers. This enemy element, caught between two
deadly fires, was wiped out.
This disaster suffered by the Russians south of Natchekino resulted from
their inadequate combat reconnaissance, which failed to discover in time ei-
ther the presence of our tanks or the flank detachment advancing through the
forest. Otherwise the Soviet commander would have realized the precarious
nature of his position and would not have attempted the counterattack.
Moreover, the Russian commander had placed undue reliance on his security
detachments at the forest edge west of Sereda. These detachments had been
long since overrun by our flank unit, but the liaison between the Russian for-
est bunker position and the security elements apparently functioned so
poorly that he had no idea that his position had been compromised. Even
disregarding this threat, the Russian commander had executed his counter-
attack across exposed ground, had taken no steps to protect his troops from
any direction, and had pushed large numbers of men across snow-covered
fields that provided absolutely no cover. These violations of the basic rules
of tactics, namely with regard to reconnaissance, security, and liaison, had
resulted in the destruction of his command.
Even though Colonel Zollen's spearhead (which, in open terrain, was sup-
ported by all weapons on the march route) quickly succeeded in forcing its
way west, the flank detachments moving through the forest found the going
progressively more difficult. Although in each stretch of forest these detach-
ments were able to make use of one beaten track the Russians had made, this
required the troops to march single file and left both of them, as they were
about to exit the forest, unexpectedly confronting enemy positions camou-
flaged with abatis. They could neither capture these positions by front as-
sault nor bypass them through the thickets on either side of the path due to
the deep snow. Moreover, the reinforced infantry company that constituted
our northern detachment was suddenly attacked in the center of the so-
called Africa forest by numerous snipers in the trees, who held them up for a
long time. Both flank detachments failed to capture the Russian positions at
 104 PANZER OPERATIONS

the western edges of the forest and thus could not break into the open. At
long last units detached from the main body of the Kampfgruppe rescued
them from these unpleasant situations by attacking the enemy positions from
the rear.
The attached infantry battalion, operating under the command of a
young captain, had orders to advance south from Tatarinka during the af-
ternoon, so as to create a threat against the next major defensive focal point
at Vyasovka. Before this could be accomplished, however, the battalion had
to drive the remaining defenders from Potebrenka and the farms immediately
south of Tatarinka. Although Colonel Zollenkopf had given the acting bat-
talion commander strict instructions to wait for the arrival of a panzer com-
pany and a battery of 88mm flak (both being brought forward from
Vasilevka) before undertaking this operation, he attacked without them be-
cause he assumed that his companies faced only weak enemy forces. While
his troops were crossing a piece of elevated terrain just south of Tatarinka,
furious machine-gun fire from several farm buildings caught them in the
open and forced them to fall back behind the ridge. The attack could be con-
tinued only once the heavy antitank and flak guns arrived and it became pos-
sible to demolish the identified Soviet bunkers with direct fire. Due to the
young captain's underestimation of enemy strength his battalion took un-
necessary losses and the advance toward Potebrenka had to be delayed. Even-
tually, however, the battalion secured Potebrenka later in the afternoon. Ad-
vancing into the forest rim, the troops happened across a log bunker position
that was still occupied by Russian troops. This bunker, aside from its obvi-
ous defensive mission, also served as heated quarters for the Red Army sol-
diers in the area. At nightfall the battalion assaulted and captured this posi-
tion.
Since the bunker's location was not suitable for our defensive purposes, it
was demolished. Our destruction of such shelters compelled the enemy to
fight and sleep in the open at temperatures lower than — 12°F, which consid-
erably impaired his fighting capacity. Consequently, within a short time it
would become feasible to have our assault units replaced at such points by
improvised Alarmeinheiten, which were suitable for defensive purposes. This
freed our combat elements for further offensive operations. An even more ef-
fective tactic resulted from the seizure of such bunkers, involving a ruse we
had earlier learned from the Russians. Just before the enemy troops were ex-
pected to arrive at the bunkers for the evening, our patrols evacuated the po-
sitions, leaving them intact, but only after emplacing interconnected hand
grenades and other demolition charges that the engineers had hidden in the
twigs and straw covering the floor. These detonated at the slightest touch,
not only destroying the bunkers but also inflicting Russian losses.
 WINTER WAR 105

In spite of the Russian weaknesses detailed above, we still had no reason

to assume that the Soviets would accept defeat with fatalistic resignation,
particularly as they still had at their disposal large numbers of armed troops
incited by fanatical commissars. As expected, Russian counterattacks began
the very next day (17 February). Enemy reserves had been brought up
overnight and were now committed, without artillery support, in attacks
against our bunker positions in the forward villages that were covered by ma-
chine guns, artillery, and tanks. These efforts, which the Russians doggedly
repeated during the following days, remained unsuccessful. They only in-
creased their losses without recapturing even a single village. Our forces, on
the other hand, even succeeded in improving their positions with local raids
against isolated farmsteads.

Vasilevka: A Ski Brigade Defeated

Seen from a tactical point of view, Russian countermeasures thus far had
been ineffective. Far more troublesome—in fact, dangerous—were the effects
of a pincer attack launched by strong enemy forces from their adjacent de-
fensive sectors against the unguarded communications route from
Natchekino to Vasilevka. Along this route the forest extended up to the road
on both sides, enabling the Russians to approach the road without being ob-
served. By doing so they cut off Colonel Zollen's spearhead from its rear
communications as it rushed westward. Although I had taken this contin-
gency into consideration, it had not appeared very likely in view of what we
knew about enemy supply problems and command arrangements. One rein-
forced Soviet rifle regiment was stationed in each of the two adjacent sectors.
These combat groups, I estimated, would not be able to participate in such a
pincer attack in large numbers without risking the danger of being smashed.
Moreover, these two regiments belonged to different corps headquarters. I
knew from experience that in such cases it would be necessary for the army
headquarters to which both corps were subordinated to issue positive orders
for such an attack and then to coordinate the operation. In addition, the
southern rifle regiment would have had to face a long and difficult march,
which for ten kilometers would lead through a pathless forest region covered
by deep snow. Our security detachments had established a blocking position
on the only beaten track through the forest. Therefore the only realistic op-
tion that appeared to be left to the Russians was a drive from the north that
could be effective only if reinforced by several additional rifle battalions out
of the Kholminka sector. In view of the overall situation now prevailing at
Rzhev, this seemed doubtful. Should this contingency nonetheless arise, I had
stationed our tactical reserve in the Natchekino-Yablonzevo area to deal with
 106 PANZER OPERATIONS

it. This reserve, commanded by Lieutenant Colonel Unrein, consisted of the

aforementioned motorcycle-ski company, an engineer-ski company from En-
gineer Training Battalion 2, several assault guns from Assault Gun Battalion
189, and eight armored reconnaissance cars. Fire plans for artillery support
from divisional assets had already been created, and liaison arrangements
were made to assure coordination between Lieutenant Colonel Unrein's re-
serve and the defensive sector "Vasilevka" to which the three light howitzer
batteries of I/Panzer Artillery Regiment 76 had been moved.
The night of 17-18 February was bright with stars. Calm prevailed in all
sectors. For security reasons no movement of vehicles was allowed after dark
on the road to Vasilevka, though the route was guarded at irregular intervals
by strong patrols. Nevertheless, one Russian ski unit managed to cross the
road in small groups between these intervals, then moved south and cut the
telephone cable running to the front. The sounds they made were drowned
out by the rustling of the trees.
One hour before dawn a German parka-clad infantry-engineer unit
equipped with skis advanced down a forest path en route to the village south
of Vasilevka, where it had orders to assist in constructing defensive fortifica-
tions. Some elements of the Russian ski unit by chance arrived at that spot at
the same time. Clad and equipped exactly like the German engineer platoon,
the Russians unwittingly joined the staggered march column. Neither the
Germans nor the Russians, both of whom had their fur-lined collars turned
up while they trudged along without speaking, recognized each other. Not
until the combined group reached the fringe of the forest several hundred
meters ahead of the village did the Russians come to a halt in order to pre-
pare their attack. The Germans, disturbed by what appeared to them to be
an incomprehensible stop, started a dispute that quickly revealed the error
committed by both sides. Following a brief hand-to-hand struggle, during
which the respective opponents could be recognized only when they spoke,
the Russians dispersed and vanished into the forest. Our engineer platoon,
which had remained on the road, let off several bursts of submachine fire
after them, which immediately aroused the attention of all local security de-
tachments. Complete silence, however, soon reigned again, causing the secu-
rity elements to think that what had occurred was only a small raid, and they
therefore attached no significance to the incident. Only one company, which
had settled down in the village located directly opposite the point of the brief
firefight, was sufficiently alerted to occupy its defensive positions. Soon
thereafter the first engineer troops arrived, all out of breath, and related the
strange encounter with the Russian ski unit. Momentarily the entire engineer
platoon appeared and reinforced the company in its defenses. Sounds of a
 WINTER WAR 107

brief skirmish coming from one of our forest outposts indicated that the
Russian ski unit had passed that way as well.
Just before dawn Russian troops suddenly appeared in front of the north-
eastern section of Vasilevka. The machine-gun sentries instantly opened a
vehement fire, and the alarm spread rapidly to the entire eastern sector as
well as the village of Kishenka to the north. Our troops had not as yet had
the chance to occupy all the ice bunkers when the leading enemy soldiers
jumped into a snow ditch connecting two bunkers. Colonel Zollenkopf was
just arriving with an assault detachment, which he led into fierce if brief
hand-to-hand fighting that routed the invaders. The Russians also launched
an attack from the south, where they encountered I/Panzer Artillery Regi-
ment 76, which direct-fired all the guns in three batteries at a ski battalion
advancing in waves. This attack immediately ground to a standstill, and the
Russians began floundering about in the snow, trying to take off the skis that
hampered their ability to fight. Dawn was already beginning to break, which
resulted in a visibility of 300-500 meters and made it possible to train ma-
chine-gun fire on the Russians. The attack broke down completely, after suf-
fering heavy losses. However, at practically the same moment, other enemy
ski units made a speedy drive against the northern sector, where, heedless of
the fire pouring down on them, they succeeded in penetrating at several
points. Two reserve assault detachments were still engaged in retaking some
of these positions when one German sergeant and his platoon rushed forth
from Kishenka, where yet another Russian attack had just been repelled. This
veteran NCO had recognized the danger threatening the northern sector
and, acting on his own initiative, led his platoon to attack the Russian ski
unit in the rear. As this action forced the Soviets to retreat, the first critical
phase of the enemy surprise attack had been mastered.
While these actions occurred, the noise of heavy battle could also be heard
in the south, where a Russian ski company launched an unsuccessful attack
on a small village located on a hill and defended only by a weak German de-
tachment. This turned out to be the ski unit that had become intermingled
with our engineer platoon during the night. Because of that incident the Rus-
sians had been unable to reach their assembly area for their scheduled attack
until daylight.
Another day had now dawned. The snow-covered slope that rose from
Vasilevka toward the forest sparkled across its entire 1,000-meter width in
the first rays of the rising sun. The edge of the "Africa forest"—so called be-
cause of its unique shape—began to be visible, looking as if strewn with di-
amonds and dipped in gold. Suddenly, four new Russian ski battalions
emerged from the southern tip of Africa forest (called "the Cape") and set
 108 PANZER OPERATIONS

out over the snow toward Vasilevka. These troops had been charged with
achieving with a daytime attack the objective that the night raid had failed to
deliver: the capture of Vasilevka and the blocking of our supply route. It was
obviously intended that they should carry along in their advance the blood-
ied Russian battalions already pinned down in front of the village.
Several hundred skiers presented a spectacle that our troops watched at
first as though it were a race meeting. Only as the echeloned lines continued
to close (and the leaders had already reached the road) did the German de-
fenders seem to realize that they had to prevent the "finish" of these Russian
ski troops. Concentrated fire from all weapons hurled the enemy skiers into
the snow even before they managed to reach the lines of their comrades.
Hundreds of scarcely visible dots denoted the area where the valiant skiers
had disappeared with lightning speed as their run ended. Although they
gamely attempted to continue on foot, the deep snow made this impossible.
The sight of any man-size target was sufficient to attract instantaneous ma-
chine-gun fire, which meant certain death.
Ultimately, this great winter sports show had to be concluded in a most
unfair manner. Lieutenant Colonel Unrein's motorcycle riflemen and engi-
neers arrived from Natchekino on their own skis, accompanied by several
StG III assault guns and armored reconnaissance cars, to attack the enemy in
the rear. Although the Russians had attempted to protect themselves from
such attacks by mining the road (and did in fact succeed in driving back the
lead German vehicle), our engineers immediately made their appearance and
cleared the road. The assault guns attacked the Soviet flank, driving the
enemy back in conjunction with our ski units. In order to escape encir-
clement and complete annihilation, the Russian ski brigade found itself
forced to withdraw by crawling through the snow under fire from several di-
rections, leaving their skis behind. It took the last surviving Russians nearly
three hours before they managed to reach the edge of the Africa forest, upon
which twenty-four guns were firing and into which they disappeared. For a
long while afterward we observed (but did not hinder) Red Army medical
troops on skis as the tried to remove numerous severely wounded soldiers.
The ski attack had been decisively defeated.
Our troops counted over 350 dead Russian soldiers in the field of snow
and captured over 200 prisoners. This amounted to nearly half the original
strength of the committed Russian ski forces. Among the dead was the ski
brigade's commander, a Soviet general staff officer attached to the head-
quarters of the Thirty-ninth Army who had been in charge of training the ski
battalions. He had personally led this elite unit, which constituted the army's
last available reserve, into battle. During its difficult withdrawal the ex-
hausted brigade had also been compelled to leave behind all heavy weapons
 WINTER WAR 109

and any equipment that interfered with crawling. The most valuable capture,
however, turned out to be the large map found on the body of the Russian
brigade commander. This map detailed the situation of the Russian Thirty-
ninth Army up through 17 February, and we immediately put it to good use.
As a primary source of intelligence, it considerably facilitated the prepara-
tion of subsequent operations.
Despite a fourfold numerical superiority over the single German infantry
battalion defending Vasilevka, the Russian ski brigade had been unable to re-
capture the village. This failure could be primarily explained by the fact that
the Russian forces did not attack simultaneously and lacked the support of
heavy weapons. During all these battles around Vasilevka on 18 February it
was characteristic of the enemy's artillery supply situation that not a single
shot was fired by the Russian artillery, even though eight kilometers north of
Vasilevka at Bacharevo there were several batteries, including heavy guns.
Our defenders, on the other hand, were supported in Vasilevka by an ar-
tillery battalion with twelve howitzers, several 88mm flak guns, and a pla-
toon of tanks. In addition, I had earmarked the tactical reserve at
Natchekino (which included assault guns and armored reconnaissance cars)
for a counterattack in case we should be driven out of the village. Conse-
quently, even if the Russian ski brigade had been committed properly it
would most likely have been just as decisively defeated by the preponderance
of heavy weapons available to Colonel Zollen.
This conclusion proves the truth of the principle that ski units, without
the support of heavy weapons that they are usually unable to take along, can-
not prevail against an enemy who, even though numerically far inferior, has
heavy weapons at his disposal. The best employment for such troops, there-
fore, lies in making surprise attacks at night, when the defender will not be
able to employ his heavy weapons and tanks with complete effectiveness.
I do not, however, wish to omit special mention of the initiative demon-
strated by the NCO rushing from Kishenka to the rescue of his battalion.
This is a prime example of the importance of thorough training and prepa-
ration before a campaign. At every opportunity, as far back as during the
peacetime training of our officers and enlisted men, emphasis was placed on
the fact that difficult situations in particular can only be mastered by prac-
ticing determination and initiative. To do nothing in situations of this kind
was denounced as "shameful" even in training manuals. Making an error in
the choice of means was excusable, but never the failure to take action. Every
soldier knew that he would be held accountable for his conduct to his supe-
rior, who would recognize initiative and condemn inaction. Consequently
special importance was attached to training our troops to become self-reliant
commanders and determined individual fighters. As a result, as proven again
 110 PANZER OPERATIONS

in the battle for Vasilevka, our soldiers were superior to the Russians, who
fought en masse, and this was often the reason for victories won against ap-
parently prohibitive odds.
On the other hand, initiative should not be equated with rashness, as the
case of the young battalion commander south of Tatarinka demonstrates.
He suffered defeat because he underestimated the enemy's strength and at-
tacked without waiting for the arrival of the heavy weapons assigned to him.
Worse still, in his overzealousness, he acted against an explicit order and had
to take the consequences.
The fact that the Russians could not support their attacks with artillery is
reflective of the result of the earlier struggle for supply routes. In spite of all
Soviet efforts, we held onto our lines of communications and thus were well
supplied, while the Russians suffered. The more troops that the enemy moved
into this region (which lacked the necessities of life and was accessible only
along one single sled track), the worse their supply difficulties became. Lieu-
tenant General Ivan Maslennikov, commanding the Thirty-ninth Army,
found himself caught in the dilemma of having to be sufficiently strong to re-
sist our forces (which, although considerably weaker, were very well sup-
plied) and the supply shortage this created. He attempted to offset this hand-
icap by disrupting our supply lines, but we consistently thwarted this tactic.

Vyasovka: A Combined Arms Attack

as a Training Medium

In order to avoid jeopardizing the success attained on 18 February at

Vasilevka, and to safeguard all of the supply routes to Rzhev, it now became
necessary for us to gain possession of the forest region adjacent in the south,
as well as the enemy-occupied strongpoints in the villages grouped around
Vyasovka. We knew that we had in large measure succeeded in driving back
a superior Russian force in Tatarinka and Vasilevka because the Thirty-ninth
Army had to struggle with great supply difficulties. Now I intended to utilize
the paralyzing effect of the enemy's ammunition shortage to launch a pincer
attack for the specific purpose of annihilating the reinforced rifle regiment at
Vyasovka, which was established in typical winter positions. This operation
entailed more danger than our attack toward Tatarinka because in order to
make a pincer attack (which was the only means of achieving the desired
goal) it would be necessary to divide Kampfgruppe Zollenkopf (which in re-
ality consisted of only three reinforced battalions) into separate assault
groups. Only the following factors enabled me to consider such a hazardous
operation: (1) It was impossible for Russian artillery and other heavy
 WINTER WAR 111

weapons to play any major role in the battle; (2) I was assured the coopera-
tion of strong Luftwaffe forces; (3) our assault battalions were imbued with
good fighting spirit and their ranks filled with well-trained soldiers under ex-
cellent commanders; and (4) though numerically inferior our attack forces
had been provided with excellent equipment and abundant supplies.
The elevated terrain north of these villages offered good observation
points from which it was possible to view the planned attack like an exercise
on a drill ground. Moreover, the course of the action promised to be inter-
esting and instructive. For this reason I utilized this operation as a "training
medium demonstrating a combined arms attack," which, by General
Model's order, I was to organize and conduct as I saw fit for the instruction
of "officers who had had no combat experience in the east." We contem-
plated demonstrating to these officers of various ranks, who had been trans-
ferred to Russia from other theaters of war or the Zone of the Interior, the
commitment and coordination of combined arms in offensive action against
a network of Russian bunker positions. This strange assignment was super-
ficially reminiscent of peacetime maneuvers but in reality bore not the least
resemblance to such exercises, for it required us to accomplish a mission both
difficult and important: defeating a thoroughly entrenched enemy while
withstanding the effects of a severe winter.
Initially it was necessary to procure battle-tested, fresh troops as well as
all weapons and command facilities that would assure the success of this un-
usual operation. Due to the reverses suffered before Moscow the entire east-
ern front was in a critical situation, and the crisis was most acute along the
overextended front of Army Group Center. The 6th Panzer Division had at
its disposal for offensive operations only the same battalions and batteries
that had been committed to the drive on Tatarinka. As before this included
the three consolidated battalions, as well as the few assault guns, tanks, flak
guns, and signal facilities obtained from currently inactive front sectors. All
of our combat units were on foot; some had skis. Supply deliveries were han-
dled by local panje sleds driven by 800 Russian volunteer auxiliaries under
our control and supervision (most German supply troops had already been
pressed into ground combat roles with the Alarmeinheiten). In view of the
fact that, other than increased support from the Luftwaffe, no additional
forces would be available for the new operation. I decided that it was neces-
sary for the improvised Alarmeinheiten to relieve the entire Kampfgruppe
Zollenkopf on the very afternoon that the Russians launched their ski attack.
Colonel Zollen's troops immediately shifted to a rest area in the rear. This
maneuver constituted a calculated risk that I accepted because all the Russ-
ian counterattacks had so far been decisively repelled. In addition, all ar-
tillery, antitank, and flak forces remained temporarily in their old positions
 112 PANZER OPERATIONS

at Vasilevka, and in case of emergency the Kampfgruppe could be quickly re-

called.
During the rest period we issued the soldiers very wholesome and abun-
dant food, as well as additional butter and 10,000 rations of chocolate and
fat. During their ample leisure time, they had the chance to take care of their
mail and catch up on newspapers and books. They frequently received visits
from their superiors, who looked after the welfare of each individual and
concerned themselves with the troubles and complaints of their soldiers.
During free and unconstrained conversation, special events and experiences
were discussed and complaints and requests taken up. One particularly
solemn event was the presentation of decorations, which I always did in per-
son. All officers also considered it their personal duty of honor to visit their
wounded troops on days of rest and to care for their welfare.
During this rest period, Kampfgruppe Zollenkopf received returning con-
valescents as replacements for the casualties suffered during the previous op-
eration, along with ample ammunition, some panzers, and numerous signal
devices that had been requested to assure the success of our next attack. Im-
proved means of signal communication were essential to control the large
area over which comparatively weak forces had to operate and included
many kilometers of telephone cable, numerous telephone and radio sets, and
the flash-and-sound-ranging equipment needed by the artillery observation
platoon.
I decided that the task of conquering the system of Soviet strongpoints ex-
tending from Vyasovka to Krisvakovo would require a pincer attack to be
launched from the north and east. For this purpose I instructed Gruppe
North (consisting of the consolidated battalion of Motorized Infantry Reg-
iment 114, six assault guns, one flak battery, and one antitank battery, under
the command of Lieutenant Colonel Unrein) to assemble for the attack in the
village south of Vasilevka. I placed Gruppe East (consisting of the consoli-
dated battalion of Motorized Infantry Regiment 4, the infantry battalion
formed by II/Panzer Artillery Regiment 76, one engineer company from En-
gineer Training Battalion 2, twelve tanks, two flak batteries, and two anti-
tank batteries, under the command of Colonel Zollen) in assembly positions
along a line extending from Kosmino to Chochlovka.
For its advance, Lieutenant Colonel Unrein's Gruppe North had at its dis-
posal one sled track made by the Russians and one beaten track, while
Colonel Zollen's Gruppe East was able to use two roads that, as they passed
into no-man's land, were completely covered with snow. One ski company,
which had been moved between the two assault elements, was to advance
from Alexandrovka to Murino using a single snow-covered forest path.
 WINTER WAR 113

Our artillery remained in its original positions. My instructions called for

the I (Light) Battalion at Vasilevka to support Gruppe North with three light
105mm howitzer batteries (twelve guns). Gruppe East was to be supported
by HI (Heavy) Battalion at Sereda with two 150mm howitzer batteries (eight
guns with an effective range of eighteen kilometers) and one 10mm flat-
trajectory battery (four guns with and effective range of twenty-five kilome-
ters). The assault would take place within range of both battalions, and with
our signal communications Colonel Grundherr could quickly place the con-
centrated fire of both battalions in front of either assault element as the sit-
uation demanded. To facilitate fire control operations, one liaison officer of
the heavy battalion was attached to the light battalion, and vice versa.
In order to ensure uniformity of cooperation between heavy weapons and
the attacking infantry, which entailed significant technical difficulties, I or-
dered all artillery command posts to be established close to those of the in-
fantry commanders. Consequently, at all times every tactical commander
would have the commander of his supporting artillery unit at his side. The
same principle of local coordination, down through company and platoon
level, was also applied to all other heavy supporting weapons (assault guns,
tanks, flak, and antitank guns). Often, at the platoon level, a single forward
observer or some other direct communication link sufficed.
At the division command post I maintained the followed elements in close
proximity:

One special-missions staff officer and several messengers equipped with

skis;
One division signals officer who was in charge of telephone and radio
equipment and the personnel necessary to operate it;
The commander of Panzer Artillery Regiment 76 (Colonel Grundherr)
with his immediate staff, as well as the commander of our artillery ob-
servation battalion;
One Luftwaffe liaison officer, who had at his disposal the proper radios to
maintain contact with our supporting aircraft units.

Each of the two Gruppen also functioned with the aid of a similar but
smaller operations staff, which included the respective battalion commander
of the supporting artillery. Also at the side of Colonels Unrein and Zollen,
or at least close at hand, were the commanders or communication links of
their supporting heavy weapons. These heavy weapons commanders also
had direct contact with the infantry company commanders and—if the tac-
tical situation so required—assigned messengers directly to the commanders
 114 PANZER OPERATIONS

of infantry platoons. Each Gruppe also had a Luftwaffe liaison officer pres-
ent at its command post.
My advanced command post was connected by telephone cable (trunk
line), which functioned via Nikite (location of the division central switch-
board), with Lieutenant Colonel Unrein at Vasilevka and Colonel Zol-
lenkopf at Chochlovka, which also allowed me easy access to the artillery
and heavy weapons commanders. At the two terminal points of the trunk
line, as well as at Sereda, we established telephone switchboards for the
Gruppen, to which their subordinate elements were linked, as well as to the
motorcycle-ski company that constituted our tactical reserve. The terminal
stations of these subordinate switchboards were located in the immediate
vicinity of the front line and were prepared to follow the advance of their re-
spective Gruppe in leapfrog fashion. The distance between the telephone sta-
tions nearest the front and the forward line of battle was usually about four
kilometers, which was spanned by means of infantry or tank radios. We par-
ticularly depended on the tank radios whenever our panzers spearheaded the
advance of our infantry assault detachments.
In the event of temporary disruption of the wire lines, radio transmitters
were available at all times at the respective command posts of division, Grup-
pen, battalions, and the motorcycle company. Thus the tactical operations
network in effect extended from me, as division commander, to the foremost
attacking spearheads via this series of relay stations. The forward observers
of the artillery fire control net—which necessarily functioned independently
of the operations net, though it was organized along the same lines—ex-
tended as far as the infantry combat zone. Here internal communications
were assured by the fact that the tactical commanders simultaneously com-
manded the artillery fire control. The aviation assets necessary for artillery
target reconnaissance and fire direction were also at the disposal of the ar-
tillery, and as the fighting progressed our artillery observation platoon sta-
tioned at the southern edge of the forest was also employed.
It should also be mentioned that the heavy batteries, even prior to the ini-
tial attack, had been placing adjusted fire on all strongpoints in the villages
located in the Kholminka-Vasilevka-Vyasovka area by means of a photo-
map and guidance from aerial reconnaissance flights. As a result, Colonel
Grundherr's gunners had already registered the firing data for the most im-
portant targets. In view of the settled weather conditions, these factors never
changed to any marked degree during the operation. In order to be on the
safe side, however, during the attack he required everything to be checked out
once more just prior to the advance of our spearheads.
During the decisive phase of the battle numerous artillery observers and
the artillery observation platoon established themselves at the forest rims
 WINTER WAR 115

and on the roofs of buildings in captured villages, from which elevated posts
they had a clear and direct line of sight to their targets, as far distant as three
kilometers. The I (Light) Battalion, Panzer Artillery Regiment 76, had to fire
in succession over distances from five to eight kilometers in exactly the di-
rection of Gruppe North's attack. The frontage of this battalion and the di-
rection of attack required a gun traverse of 25 degrees. The III (Heavy) Bat-
talion, Panzer Artillery Regiment 76, on the other hand, had to fire in
succession over distances from nine to eleven kilometers, partly slantwise to
and partly almost parallel to Gruppe East's line of advance, which also re-
quired a gun traverse of about 25 degrees. The shell bursts of III Battalion in
particular were clearly visible to our observers. For that reason, and in view
of the fact that the lateral dispersion was smaller than the range dispersion,
the heavy guns were able to support the infantry until shortly before it en-
tered the target zone, without endangering our own troops in any way. More-
over, the lateral fire could be shifted quite rapidly because, in most cases, the
firing data only had to be changed for lateral fire and not for range. Enfilad-
ing artillery fire has a much greater moral effect, particularly in operations
with Austrian troops. The drawbacks of the longer wire lines—the installa-
tion of which requires more equipment and time and which, owing to the dis-
tances traversed, are more frequently subject to disruptions—were more than
offset in this instance by the advantages gained by virtue of better visibility
and flexibility of fire.
The concentrated fire from both artillery battalions first proved its effec-
tiveness during the attacks on the collective farms (Kolhkose) and in the
Vyasovka area. Colonel Grundherr directed this fire in person and did not re-
quire any greater than normal traverse, as described above. The fire was
aimed primarily at the points where the roads entered the villages, at the
most important strongpoints already identified through aerial photographs,
and at the assembly areas the Luftwaffe had spotted. Any pockets of resist-
ance that could not be conquered by the infantry (even after being subjected
to air attacks, artillery fire, and supporting heavy weapons) were identified
by the infantry commanders via signal rockets and hit again by the Luft-
waffe. During the protracted struggle for Vyasovka, red signal flares indi-
cated the spots where our troops were in any way exposed to danger from
friendly fire. In spite of the rising clouds of smoke caused by numerous fires
that soon engulfed the village, these signals remained plainly visible. Less
hampered by that smoke, our pilots furnished brief orientation reports about
the events taking place on either side.
The planning of this attack by no means implied a schematization of the
assault procedure or excessive supervision of the front-line tactical com-
manders by their superiors. My sole purpose was to ensure perfect compre-
 116 PANZER OPERATIONS

hension with regard to the mission, the contemplated course of action, and
the coordination of all weapons. All that remained was to provide support to
the Alarmeinheiten in case the Russians decided to launch a diversionary at-
tack on any of the villages we had captured in the previous operation. I seri-
ously doubted that this contingency would arise, because it appeared that the
Russians had used up their last reserves during their counterthrusts at
Vasilevka, and we could discern no indications of enemy attack preparations
in the area. There was little possibility of a successful enemy attack against
these positions in any case, because we had committed sufficiently large
numbers of well-armed troops in improved positions and supported them
with antitank and flak guns of all calibers. By all standards I expected these
troops (even allowing for the improvised nature of their organizations) to be
capable of repelling any attack not support by artillery and heavy infantry
weapons, which we already knew that the Thirty-ninth Army's dire ammu-
nition shortage would prevent it from utilizing.
Nevertheless, I took the necessary precautions to be prepared for this bare
possibility, for if this contingency did arise it was apt to create a difficult sit-
uation for Gruppe North and jeopardize the entire operation. These precau-
tionary measures included providing support through additional Luftwaffe
units and the available artillery. While supporting the main attack, our bat-
teries had to be prepared to shift fire instantaneously to defend the old posi-
tions. It was for this reason that we left intact the tactical communications
network installed during the attack on Tatarinka and kept all of the old ar-
tillery observation posts manned. This increased requirement for trained ar-
tillerymen was met by taking men from the "artillery companies of foot"
among our Alarmeinheiten in that sector, all of whom were from the same
regiment and therefore accustomed to working together. To facilitate the
rapid shifting of artillery fire by as much as 90 degrees, our batteries had to
be echeloned in such a manner and the individual guns so grouped around
the control gun (which remained in one position) that they had a free field of
fire before them even after changing their direction of fire. To make this pos-
sible the snow had to be removed from the roads leading to the alternate fir-
ing positions, and whenever necessary the guns were moved on skis. This
shifting to alternate firing emplacements was practiced, and the correct fir-
ing data predetermined before the start of the operation, including checkup
to ensure the efficiency of the old signal lines and the field of vision from the
observation posts.
As will be seen from the narrative of the actual course of action, the Rus-
sians did not attack these villages, which eliminated the need to shift artillery
fire in the middle of a battle.
 WINTER WAR 117

The support aviation and bomber wings of the VIII Fleiger Corps, whose
assistance had been promised and which could be committed continuously
from nearby airfields, constituted a critical asset in conducting this attack.
I personally clarified the plan of attack in all its essential points to the
commanding officers and the commanders of all supporting weapons, tak-
ing the time to clarify any questions that arose. This briefing was followed by
intense discussions between the Gruppe and battalion commanders and the
chiefs of their attached heavy weapons units. I also attended these meetings,
wherein the fine details of coordination were worked out. Such personal dis-
cussions were an absolute necessity prior to attacks launched according to an
established plan, as they were the only guarantee that frictions and misun-
derstandings could be kept to a minimum.
My staff issued the written attack order a short while later. It served pri-
marily as a reminder and historical document. Upon the conclusion of the
aforementioned discussions, the men who were participating in the training
course were separated from the others, apprised of the contemplated opera-
tion, and then attached to various units in accordance with their respective
branches of service to become acquainted with the details of such prepara-
tory measures.
The three days spent in preparation and recreation passed very quickly,
and it was now [22 February] time to carry our plans into effect. The weather
continued to be steady and beautiful, and the temperature had fallen a few
degrees lower than -12°F, which meant that individual soldiers could move
across the snow without skis. The sled tracks and the wider beaten paths had
frozen solid and could even be used by tanks. All in all, the weather was ideal
for the contemplated "training attack."
One obstacle remained to be eliminated: the deep snow that covered the
roads on which the attack was to be launched, especially in Gruppe East's
sector between the Russian and German outposts. The snow was deep
enough to have considerably handicapped the movement of tanks and heavy
weapons. It was therefore necessary during the night of 21-22 February to re-
move the snow from these roads and clear them beyond the outpost area.
Since both sides engaged every night in snow removal from their respective
roads, the Russians were familiar with these sounds and our actions did not
rouse their suspicions. Besides, during moonlit nights that were bright with
stars, skirmishes always took place between reconnaissance patrols, and on
these occasions the forward security detachments on one side or the other
sometimes found themselves pushed back as far as their respective main bat-
tle line. Consequently, the Russians attached no special significance to these
incidents either.
 118 PANZER OPERATIONS

On the roads leading from Kosmino and Chochlovka toward the enemy
lines, small elements of our forces attacked the Russian security detachments
as they had so frequently in the past and pushed them back as far as the most
advanced bunker positions at Krisvakovo. Engineers followed closely behind,
carrying out snow removal operations as close as possible to the Soviet lines.
Farther back, we employed armed construction battalions to clear the snow
on the approach roads. Now and then a Russian searchlight swept the out-
post area but could not detect anything suspicious because the hill sloping
toward the brook valley, where the construction battalions were working,
could not be observed. The beam of light therefore passed over our work par-
ties without disturbing their activities in any way. In the meantime, all assault
units moved into their assembly areas, and the construction troops withdrew
while it was still dark.
Both Gruppen now stood ready to strike and were waiting for the desig-
nated time, with the assault scheduled to be launched simultaneously on
both fronts, which were separated by roughly sixteen kilometers. The at-
tacking wings were to meet each other midcourse and join forces at
Vyasovka. As far could be calculated, we expected this to happen around
noon.
Suddenly, fire flashes blazed up with great intensity from the north, illu-
minating the waning night sky. A thunderlike rumbling followed, then the
droning and roaring of the heavy and light shells—fired in unbroken succes-
sion from all guns—as they began battering the ice bunker positions on the
eastern outskirts of Krisvakovo to pieces. After ten minutes of intense bom-
bardment, the burst of fire gradually shifted toward the western half of the
village. At that moment—0640—all assault columns started forward simul-
taneously. Shortly thereafter the silhouettes of German infantrymen pene-
trating into the village from three sides became visible in the glow of burn-
ing huts.
Perplexingly, we could also see the shapes of other men, moving in the op-
posite direction, soon followed by numerous others. This made us wonder
whether or not there had been some sort of setback, but we did not remain
in doubt for long. Green signal rockets began to appear at the western edge
of the village, indicating that the assault battalion had captured Krisvakovo.
Soon afterward we also received the initial telephone situation report, which
informed us of the capture of eighty Red Army soldiers. Those prisoners,
passing toward the rear, were the ones we had earlier observed moving in the
wrong direction. By sunrise the remaining length of road up to Krisvakovo
had been cleared of snow sufficiently for the tanks to push forward and take
their place at the head of the assault column, with each tank followed im-
mediately by an engineer assault detachment. These teams had the mission
 WINTER WAR 119

of penetrating Chmelevka, which was already being subjected to heavy ar-

tillery fire, and to clear the Russians out of any ice bunkers still intact with
hand grenades and flamethrowers. As the engineers assaulted each bunker in
turn, the tanks kept enemy troops in adjacent bunkers and machine-gun
nests in check with suppressive fire.
From the forward division command post at the southern edge of the for-
est, we watched the skillfully coordinated action of the tank-engineer assault
teams. Elements of our ski company had snatched the location from the
enemy only a short time earlier. The officers "participating in the course"
and acting as spectators had also arrived; security was provided by the ski
unit and some antitank guns. After a brief disturbance caused by a Russian
light tank that burst forth from the forest (but was quickly put out of action
by an antitank gun), we continued the "course of instruction" through ob-
servation and training. The lesson proved very instructive inasmuch as the
relatively short distance from the fighting made it possible, even without
field glasses, to follow all particulars of our attack procedures and the Russ-
ian defensive measures. The observers also had an excellent opportunity to
listen in as reports from the combat units filtered in, and we dispatched ad-
ditional orders whenever necessary.
The tactics employed by the joint assault detachments and tank-engineer
teams proved very successful because smoke blinded and heavy artillery fire
pinned down the Russian antitank batteries to the point that they were un-
able to function. Our tanks recognized them and shot them down when they
attempted to change position. On the other hand, the Russian troops in the
intact ice bunkers offered desperate resistance and significantly hampered
the advance of our infantry. Fortunately, other German infantry troops, who
had by then forced their way through nearby gaps, became aware of this
problem. Thus some of these elements turned and attacked the tenacious
Russian defenders from the rear and quickly mopped them up. In this fash-
ion the southern half of Chmelevka fell to our assault battalion. At the
northern outskirts of the village, the Russians still vehemently resisted the
consolidated battalion of Motorized Infantry Regiment 4, whose arrival had
been delayed by snowdrifts. Only by committing our infantry reserve forces,
supported by tanks, to an attack from the southern part of the village was it
possible to break this resistance and complete the seizure of Chmelevka.
The two assault battalions, advancing in wedge formation on both sides
of the road, now continued their attack, with the consolidated battalion of
Motorized Infantry Regiment 4 to the north and that of Panzer Artillery
Regiment 76 to the south. Our panzer spearheads, advancing by bounds,
soon reached a point halfway to Vyasovka, at which point enemy antitank
fire hit their flank. This fire came from fortified positions that the Russians
 120 PANZER OPERATIONS

had established in depressions and hollows on a rise in the ground following

the southern side of the road. These firing positions had been expertly cam-
ouflaged and offered a perfect view of the terrain gradually sloping back to-
ward the forest. The tanks had to pull back from their exposed position to
some nearby farmsteads. The infantry companies advancing in loose forma-
tion in the wake of our tanks on the north side of the road had been hit to
this point only by intermittent artillery fire, which was insufficient to pin
them down. Now, however, Russian heavy mortars and machine guns in
Vyasovka took them under fire and compelled them to halt their brisk drive
and resort to pushing forward small groups in short jumps. The consolidated
infantry battalion of Panzer Artillery Regiment 76 to the south also found it-
self pinned down by the fire coming from the bunkers and ditches located in
a rise in the ground and occupied by a large number of Soviet troops.
Only when the Luftwaffe's ground-attack aircraft appeared and forced
the Russian antitank crews to take cover could the tank spearheads move up
to the troublesome targets and put them out of action. As for the ice bunker
positions that had succeeded in halting our infantry advance, they had been
located in positions open to full view from my division command post. We
therefore employed the 88mm flak battery that had been emplaced as local
security for my headquarters to take these positions under direct fire; it
quickly silenced several of the weapons that were harassing our troops. The
entire Russian position east of Vyasovka, however, became untenable only
when hit by the destructive enfilading fire of all batteries from both artillery
battalions. Those Red Army soldiers in the demolished ice bunkers suffered
the heaviest losses and fled back to the west. But as we observed through
field glasses from the division command post, commissars with their pistols
in hand instantaneously confronted these shaken troops and drove them
back to the fight. At that critical moment, several panzers veered in that di-
rection and covered the wavering Russian line (now completely in the open)
with fire from their main guns and machine guns. The effect was devastat-
ing. Under the cover of this fire, the consolidated infantry battalion of
Panzer Artillery Regiment 76 renewed its assault and seized the entire forti-
fied intermediate terrain in front of Vyasovka, which by then the consoli-
dated battalion of Motorized Infantry Regiment 4 had also penetrated
north of the road.
Gruppe North started its advance at the same time as Gruppe East, but
without benefit of a preliminary artillery bombardment. In two columns,
each spearheaded by assault guns and assault detachments, Lieutenant
Colonel Unrein's troops moved south. At first the Russians, as we had ex-
pected, offered only feeble resistance. At the approach of our assault guns the
enemy security detachments immediately withdrew to the forests 011 both
 WINTER WAR 121

sides of the road in order to harass the German infantry companies that fol-
lowed with flanking fire. These Russians were taken greatly by surprise, how-
ever, when our ski units that had been detached along the forest rims at-
tacked and scattered them. Thus for the first four kilometers the advance
continued without difficulty; only when our leading elements had reached
the Kolhkose and the edge of the woods to the east thereof did they come
across well-fortified ice bunker positions, which were supplied with numer-
ous heavy weapons.
Lieutenant Colonel Unrein realized that it was inadvisable to assault these
positions head-on. Consequently, he halted the Gruppe's advance and re-
quested artillery and air support for a deliberate attack on the Kolhkose.
Close-support aircraft soon appeared in waves, their fire pinning the Rus-
sians down in their bunkers even as the available light howitzer batteries
opened fire. Meanwhile, the consolidated battalion of Motorized Infantry
Regiment 114 regrouped for its attack. At the decisive moment the artillery
bombardment was increased by the addition of the heavy batteries as well,
while the 88mm flak battery attached to the Gruppe began to target previ-
ously identified bunkers with direct fire and to demolish them one by one.
Bomber squadrons, which had been held in readiness, subject to call, now ar-
rived exactly on time for their salvo bombing attack on the Kolhkose posi-
tions to be coordinated with the fire of our artillery and other heavy
weapons. This final increase in the intensity of our bombardment was the
signal for starting the assault on the fortified strongpoint.
The last bombs and heavy shells had scarcely detonated when the assault
guns and forward assault detachments breached the bunker position. In-
fantrymen quickly followed, mopping up the Russians bunker by bunker.
Nothing but a handful of completely exhausted soldiers remained of the two
Russian rifle companies charged with holding their positions at all costs in
order to deny us entry into Vyasovka. From the division command post we
could not see this attack but listened to the tremendous din of battle amid
the roaring bomb explosions. Lieutenant Colonel Unrein's staff kept us fully
informed of events as they progressed.
Rolling across the ruins, which were all that remained of the Kolhkose,
our assault guns immediately continued pushing south toward Pribitki.
Again the Luftwaffe's close-support aircraft (which the Russians had come to
dread) made their appearance. Circling and roaring over the fortified group
of farms, they once again pinned down the Soviet defenders just as they also
came under the fire of the assault guns. Bypassed on both sides and under
concentric attack, this enemy strongpoint—garrisoned by a single rife com-
pany—also succumbed to the superior strength of our aircraft and heavy
weapons.
 122 PANZER OPERATIONS

Meanwhile, the ski company that had been placed between the two Grup-
pen as a connecting force by then had finally succeeded in fighting its way out
of the forest. This company had been repeatedly held up inside the forest
since it could not be assisted by heavy weapons. An enemy strongpoint lo-
cated in a clearing fell only after a frontal assault and bitter close-quarters
fighting. This particular battle took place just two kilometers from my com-
mand post, and both local security detachments and the spectator/students
were alerted for possible action. Fortunately, the victory of the ski company
made their commitment unnecessary.
After detouring around the fortified strongpoint in Murino, the ski com-
pany attacked the rear of the previously mentioned forest bunker position, in
front of which one of Lieutenant Colonel Unrein's infantry companies re-
mained tied down. Through the coordinated action of both units, support by
heavy weapons, this tenaciously defended position also fell to an assault.
Thus all the outlying strongpoints had been captured or destroyed, with the
exception of the one at Murino that had been isolated. For the next step we
had to encircle Vyasovka, which now resembled an octopus deprived of its
tentacles, and conquer the focal point of the defense by an all-out concentric
attack.
All forces of both Gruppen and their supporting units had already begun
their concentric advance on Vyasovka when suddenly the Luftwaffe reported
fresh Red Army troops approaching from the south. The pilots estimated
their strength at one rifle regiment consisting of two or three battalions and
predicted that the regiment would reach the Vyasovka area within two hours.
There they would obviously attempt to eliminate the danger of the town
being encircled, either by reinforcing the sorely pressed garrison or by at-
tacking one of the two Gruppen.
This abrupt change in the battle situation made it necessary for me to
reach a new decision. I did so without delay and put the revised plan into ef-
fect by issuing the orders through my staff and assistants. The spectators,
who were now situated in an adjacent building, were then apprised of this in-
teresting turn of events. Without telling them what I had decided, I asked
each member of the training course to state what his choice would have been
had he been in command. Each officer was also expected to write down in
keywords the orders necessary for the execution of his preferred plan, which
meant that they were all required to solve a real problem in tactics while
under fire. I told them, "Hic Rhodus hic salta!" (This referred to an incident
in one of Aesop's Fables dealing with a man boasting about his exploits on
the Island of Rhodes, and in the course of the story he is told: " H i c Rhodus
hic salta!"—"Here's Rhodes, go ahead and jump" [literally translated],
meaning, "Show me what you can do!")
 WINTER WAR 123

The officers in training obviously had difficulties arriving at the proper

decision for such an unusual situation. They were not as yet sufficiently fa-
miliar with the enemy's mentality, the peculiarities of Russia as a theater of
war, and the effects of such an exceptional situation. Consequently their
judgment was based on their theoretical knowledge or their experiences
gained in other theaters of war, and they thus proposed the following three
alternatives for solving the problem:

1. To annihilate these fresh Russian forces by means of the Luftwaffe and

to continue the attack;
2. To contain the Russians at Vyasovka with part of our forces and to at-
tack the new Russian regiment with the bulk of our strength;
3. To withdraw our forces to the line extending from the farm buildings
across the edge of the forest to Chmelevka and there assume defensive
positions.

The officers were thunderstruck when I later informed them of the deci-
sion I had made and of the only brief orders I had issued. These orders were
worded as follows: "The attack will be halted; the enemy regiment will be al-
lowed to continue its march and is to be annihilated at the same time as the
Russian forces occupying Vyasovka." These orders had been immediately
transmitted to all units as well to the Luftwaffe, with the notification that the
schedule for the execution of the all-out assault had been postponed from
noon to 1500.
In keeping with this revised plans, the initial order—"Stop the attack!"—
went out by telephone to the two Gruppen commanders and the Luftwaffe,
while my operations officer briefed the artillery commander and the liaison
officers about the situation and objective. A few minutes later I spoke per-
sonally with both Colonel Zollenkopf and Lieutenant Colonel Unrein on the
telephone, briefed them, and gave the following order:

The line reached so far will be held, and the enemy troops advancing to-
ward Vyasovka from the south will not be hindered in any way. You will
strike only if they attack your positions or attempt to bypass them. If, as I
expect, they march into Vyasovka, you will close the gap behind them at
the sector boundary between the two Gruppen and prevent any enemy
troops from breaking out of the encirclement. I contemplate the annihila-
tion of the new Russian troops along with the forces currently occupying
Vyasovka by means of the original planned concentric attack. The artillery
and the Luftwaffe have received similar instructions. The attack will prob-
ably start at 1500; wait for specific instructions to that effect.
 124 PANZER OPERATIONS

Under constant observation by the Luftwaffe, the Russian rifle regiment

continued to march toward Vyasovka and rejoiced that it had managed to ar-
rive there in time to reinforce the town's battered defenders. We utilized the
three-hour delay in the attack schedule to study a series of excellent aerial
photographs that had just been received, checking and supplementing them
with ground reconnaissance reports. These consolidated findings were then
evaluated with reference to the detailed plan of attack.
Our final revised plan outlined the sector boundary between the two
Gruppen. This boundary followed a north-south direction along a road in
the western part of Vyasovka, with the road being explicitly marked on the
basis of aerial photographs. The new plan also envisioned the use of the mo-
torcycle company in conjunction with Gruppe North to prevent any Russians
from escaping into the large forest north of Vyasovka. I held another confer-
ence with Colonel Zollenkopf and Lieutenant Colonel Unrein to discuss
these details while my operations officer transmitted the necessary orders to
the supporting units.
No sooner had the last Russian companies arrived at Vyasovka when the
Luftwaffe appeared on the scene in majestic flight and attacked the enemy
units that had not yet been committed but were still milling in groups around
the buildings. At the same moment all artillery, tanks, assault guns, antitank
guns, flak, and infantry heavy weapons commenced a bombardment of the
soviet strongpoints and trenches that were situated to most seriously hamper
our penetration into the town. The furies of war were raging as if all hell had
broken loose, and Vyasovka was soon enveloped by smoke and flames. Our
assault columns, advancing from all sides, drew ever closer until the two
Gruppen joined forces and completed the encirclement.
There was now no escape left for the Russians. Tanks had already demol-
ished or engineers captured the foremost bunkers, and the engineers had
started blowing up the antitank obstacles in the main road, as well as clearing
the minefields. The way into the town lay open. Assault detachments and tanks
in ever-increasing numbers vanished from our sight into the thick mass of
smoke pouring out of the burning buildings. Colonel Grundherr shifted his
concentrated artillery (as did the Luftwaffe bombers) to target the fortifica-
tions in the center of Vyasovka, then slowly walked their fire to the north.
From the division command post we could trace their path closely through the
violent explosions and huge clumps of earth that were thrown high into the air.
Meanwhile the crackling and rattling of machine-gun and submachine-
gun fire became more and more pronounced. Salvoes of hand-grenade ex-
plosions repeatedly rent the air, indicating that additional Russian strong-
points had been taken by assault. Gradually the noise of battle shifted north
in the wake of the aerial and artillery bombardments, until it ceased as night
 WINTER WAR 125

began to fall. Fighting flared up only once more, far off in the north, when
the strongpoint at Murino (which had become the enemy's final refuge) was
attacked and captured. Several hundred prisoners were captured and
marched off to the rear. At that point one or two battered Russian compa-
nies still succeeded in escaping into the woods under cover of darkness; these
were the only forces who managed to escape what the prisoners referred to
as "the holocaust."
The battle of Vyasovka had cost the Soviet Thirty-ninth Army two regi-
ments, whose destruction had been witnessed by numerous observers. Never
before had these spectators attended a class in tactics that was quite so con-
vincing. This was a lesson taken from life and initiated those officers in the
realities of winter combat in Russia, for which the pincer attack at Vyasovka
may be regarded as a classic example.

The Snail Offensive

Despite the successful outcome of the operations at Tatarinka and Vyasovka,

the Russians still maintained a Guards rifle corps of three rifle divisions far
too close to the critical Vyazma-Sychevka-Rzhev lines of communication for
the safety of Ninth Army. General Model and I both believed that it would
be necessary to drive the Soviets back at least another ten to fifteen kilome-
ters on a forty-kilometer front to place the supply lines of Ninth Army be-
yond their reach. This meant that a line favorable for defense had to be
reached that followed the edge of the vast wooded marshes and that all vil-
lages and towns in the fertile region immediately to our east had to be taken
from the enemy. As a secondary but important objective we intended to de-
prive the Soviets of valuable shelter and sources of supply while making these
villages available to our own troops. This would be a particularly hard blow
at General Maslennikov's Thirty-ninth Army since there were only a few
small, poor villages within the swampy forests, and the supply difficulties of
his divisions were increasing daily. Now that General Model had launched a
successful panzer attack at Bely, the Thirty-ninth Army was practically sur-
rounded except for a narrow, pathless strip across the front.
Ninth Army, however, could not spare additional combat units for such
an offensive, leaving me with only the three reinforced battalions from 6th
Panzer Division and the improvised Alarmeinheiten that had been organ-
ized for the defense of the Rollbahn, airfields, and railway. Driving back an
estimated twenty-seven Russian rifle battalions with these forces, and in-
flicting severe enough losses that the Alarmeinheiten would be able to hold
the new line thus achieved without risk, would again require thoughtful im-
provisation.
 126 PANZER OPERATIONS

Immediately after the victory at Vyasovka, I called the sector command-

ers of the defensive line to a meeting, informed them of the necessity of an
offensive, and began indoctrinating them in the combat methods that would
be used. Although my final objective was to roll back the enemy at least fif-
teen kilometers, I did not then reveal this to the assembled officers. The mere
thought of starting an offensive with their motley units caused the com-
manders of all the Alarmeinheiten to raise serious objections that can be
fully expressed only by a single word: "impossible." Only a patient, detailed
explanation of the tactics to be employed, for which I had coined the term
"snail offensive," gradually began to dispel the numerous objections that
were admittedly perfectly valid from a conventional military standpoint.
First of all, I pointed out to the commanders that time was not an impor-
tant factor in this offensive. The speed of a snail would be sufficient. In se-
lecting the place of attack they would proceed like a snail that would move
only to a place where it could find a worthwhile objective without incurring
any danger. The method of advance would therefore resemble that of a snail
slowly groping its way and immediately retracting its feelers or changing its
direction whenever faced by an obstacle. Any setback must be avoided, be-
cause it would discourage our improvised combat troops and tie them up for
a long time, just as a snail withdraws into its shell in a dangerous situation
and does not dare to continue on its way for quite a while. Nor were the com-
manders to forget the shell of the snail, which affords safety and shelter in
case of danger. Despite all precautions, however, Alarmeinheiten command-
ers had to keep in mind the rewarding objective at all times, exactly as a snail
would do in the same situation.
This comparison served to illustrate the basic idea of the combat methods
to be employed in the snail offensive. Fortunately, many of the officers had
enjoyed the opportunity to watch the practical application of this doctrine
during the Vyasovka operation. This provided a framework for discussing the
initial operation, which from a morale standpoint would be of paramount
importance.
The success at Vyasovka had left a deep wedge in our new lines, a salient
that included three villages held by small Russian security detachments.
There I knew that an initial victory should be easy to obtain. As with our
previous operations, the attack would not start until everything had been so
well prepared that success could be expected with certainty. The enemy dis-
positions remained under our observation because we held high ground that
allowed us to dominate them with cross fire from two angles. The foremost
village was held by the strongest Russian element, the two farther to the rear
by smaller ones. A platoon of volunteers led by an experienced officer was to
sneak up at night on each of the small villages, effect a penetration from the
 WINTER WAR 127

rear, make a surprise raid at dawn, and annihilate the enemy. Surprise was
achieved, the two villages were captured, and the large one in front was cut
off. We brought up machine guns and heavy infantry weapons to stop the
enemy's attempt to break out of the larger village during the next day. At
dusk we reinforced our forces in each of the smaller villages and seized the
entire Russian contingent from the large village as it attempted to break out
under cover of darkness. As each village passed into our hands, engineers
and construction troops immediately prepared them for defense.
A few kilometers to the south another small Russian strongpoint complex
was taken by similar tactics. A very strong covering force with heavy weapons
always remained in the old main battle line to prevent any potential reverses.
The main battle line moved forward only after new defensive positions had
been constructed in the frozen ground and the snow cleared from supply and
communications routes. As long as the enemy showed any sign of counter-
attacking, strong reserves stayed behind the danger points and no further of-
fensive moves were initiated. Similar operations began in other sectors,
adapted to local conditions and carried out at irregular intervals. The first
week of the snail offensive resulted in the occupation of fourteen villages and
the capture of numerous prisoners, while our own losses were negligible.
Most important, however, was the confidence that the troops in the
Alarmeinheiten gained in this combat method, regarding which the Russians
themselves coined the expression "the mincing machine," which aptly de-
fined our "attacks with limited objectives" that were conducted with all
heavy weapons under firm control.
The first operations had been undertaken in close conjunction with
Colonel Zollenkopf's reinforced battalions of the 6th Panzer Division, but
gradually the Alarmeinheiten themselves became confident enough to un-
dertake more complicated missions. However, it remained essential to attack
in the most effective manner and to secure our objectives without becoming
involved in a heavy engagement. Even though the Russians in this area were
better trained and equipped than our improvised units, their supply of am-
munition was limited and they were too weak to organize a continuous line
of defense. Only outpost lines secured their individual strongpoints, and my
subordinate commanders soon discovered that the best method of overcom-
ing these obstacles was to capture the villages in which the outposts were lo-
cated in order to isolate each heavily defended strongpoint until it was nearly
encircled. Then the Red Army soldiers often abandoned the strongpoints vol-
untarily rather than risk the conflagration our heavy weapons we were capa-
ble of visiting on them.
Bogdanovo, a village situated in dominating terrain on our southern wing,
w asthe linchpin of one of the most important Russian strongpoint systems
 128 PANZER OPERATIONS

near our line of communications. From there the Russians frequently

launched raids farther south, penetrated to the Rollbahn, and stopped all
traffic. In order to eliminate these inconvenient supply disruptions, OKH dis-
patched the Fuehrer Begleit [Escort] Battalion, a crack unit that normally
served as Hitler's personal bodyguard, reinforced with heavy weapons and
artillery as it was moved up to take this defensive anchor by assault. After
only a short briefing and hasty preparations the battalion launched a frontal
attack in the orthodox manner, forced the weaker village outpost detach-
ments to withdraw, and then advanced almost to the edge of the main strong-
point. There the Russians, counterattacking from all sides and inflicting con-
siderable German losses, pushed the battalion back and even encircled one
company. This company was finally rescued after great difficulties, but due
to the heavy losses incurred there General Model did not allow the attack to
be repeated.
After this failure General Model shifted the boundaries to include Bog-
danovo in the 6th Panzer Division and ordered me to capture it. Within a few
days the snail offensive procedure scored another success by almost com-
pletely isolating the main Soviet strongpoint. When Kampfgruppe Zol-
lenkopf attempted to close the ring, the Russian garrison, though continu-
ously raked by heavy artillery fire, hastily evacuated the village in a costly
daylight withdrawal. We immediately occupied the village and held it against
all later counterattacks.
In one month the snail offensive achieved the capture of eighty villages
and advanced the front from eight to thirteen kilometers. The principal suc-
cess, however, was to put Maslennikov's Thirty-ninth Army on the defensive
along the entire Vyazma-Sychevka front, making thrusts against the Roll-
bahn, railroad, and airfields out of the question. More and more battle-
hardened soldiers and reconditioned weapons had meanwhile been made
available and supplied to the front; the number of tanks and artillery pieces
increased significantly. By early March the operations of all units, whether
from the 6th Panzer Division or the Alarmeinheiten, were well coordinated,
and the commanders had full confidence in the new combat tactics. Thor-
ough preparations and careful implementation had prevented even the
slightest failure.
I could now grant subordinate commanders much greater freedom in con-
tinuing the offensive. Division headquarters no longer interfered with details.
Each sector was assigned a weekly phase-line that was to be reached under op-
timum conditions. This line was not to be crossed without my approval, be-
cause safety considerations outweighed those of speed. Whenever the
Alarmeinheiten ran into particular difficulties, they called upon 6th Panzer Di-
vision elements under Colonels Zollenkopf or Unrein, which were supported
 WINTER WAR 129

by tanks, assault guns, heavy weapons, and the Luftwaffe. All Russian at-
tempts failed to halt the slow but steady advance of the improvised front:
Where the enemy collected reserves, we paused, and when they had been called
away to another danger point, we attacked. Since the Thirty-ninth Army no
longer possessed sufficient forces or ammunition to appear in strength in sev-
eral places simultaneously, Maslennikov lost ground slowly but surely.
By mid-March the Russians had been pushed back into marshy forests and
forced to relinquish more than 200 villages. To push farther would have been
impossible, primarily because the commands on my flanks had not joined
our offensive. Our units on the extreme ends of the new sector had to remain
in their initial positions in order to prevent the Russians from opening gaps
through which they could infiltrate into our rear.

Improvised Propaganda

Among the many wounded and dead Russians we collected on the battlefield
in mid-February was Vera, an eighteen-year-old female sergeant. After a few
hours' treatment for shock, she recovered from her horrible experience,
which she compared to "the end of the world." Vera had been a medical aux-
iliary to the battalion holding a major strongpoint that had been completely
annihilated except for herself, one officer, and fourteen enlisted men.
During her first days as a prisoner of war Vera was under severe emotional
strain. Her interrogation confirmed intelligence on Soviet dispositions gath-
ered from other prisoners. By her admission she was a member of the Kom-
somol [Communist Youth Organization]—in other words, a committed
Communist. Before she was evacuated in a transport with other prisoners she
innocently requested permission to return to her former regiment. Asked for
the reason for this unusual request, she replied in a calm and serious tone, "I
want to tell my comrades that it is hopeless to fight against such weapons
and that the Germans will treat them well. They should come over to the
German side." Asked whether she had any other reasons for returning, she
admitted, "Yes, I would like to save the life of my friend who is still over
there." To the question of whether this was not a subterfuge to escape from
our clutches, she replied, "No, I have already stated that I shall return and
bring along my friend."
Since Vera could not possibly give away any of our secrets, and her re-
markably self-assured statements seemed trustworthy, I decided to grant her
request. Dressed in civilian clothes she crossed our lines at a point opposite
the sector still held by her regiment. Our troops escorted her through the
deep, snow-covered forest to a spot near the enemy's forward outposts. She
promised to return to the same point once her mission was completed.
 130 PANZER OPERATIONS

Several days passed, but the girl did not return. After twelve days most
people expressed doubts about her true intentions. But on the fourteenth day
the designated front sector reported the arrival of two Red Army deserters,
one of whom was a woman. Half-exhausted from the long trek through deep
masses of melting snow, Vera and her companion—a Russian sergeant—had
finally arrived.
She had an interesting story to tell. After her return to Russian lines, Vera
was immediately interrogated by a commissar, who doubted the veracity of
her story when she told him that she had been well treated by the Germans
and had managed to escape in civilian clothes due to the carelessness of her
guards. For five days and nights he had her imprisoned in an ice bunker in the
company of criminals and fed only bread and water. When questioned again,
Vera stuck to her story. As a result, she was returned to her regiment, given
another uniform, and assigned to a front-line battalion as a medical auxil-
iary. This battalion had been urgently awaiting replacement since it had lost
its entire manpower with the exception of one lieutenant and a handful of
soldiers. After being initiated in her duties, Vera took the lieutenant's map
and compass and went to the front. There she surprised a Red Army sergeant
while he was reading one of our propaganda leaflets and persuaded him to
desert by telling him about her own experience in our hands. She talked to a
few more men and told the same story; they believed her and spread the tale
like wildfire.
One hour after Vera's return to our lines the remnants of the sergeant's
unit, consisting of six men and one machine gun, appeared at the point
where she had crossed and surrendered themselves. Having overheard Vera's
conversation with their sergeant, they decided to follow their example. For
several days thereafter, groups of two or three deserters arrived daily at var-
ious points along the front. This provided the division intelligence officer
with surprisingly exact information on enemy intentions and facilitated the
planning of further attacks.
With regard to the effect of the propaganda leaflets that the Luftwaffe
dropped from the air, Vera told us that they were hardly ever read by Russian
soldiers because such an offense was punishable by death. Moreover, the con-
tents were not believed because of the intense counterpropaganda to which
the commissars subjected them. But she was certain that her former com-
rades would believe anything she wrote in personal letters. We accepted this
idea, and soon this valuable correspondence was in full swing. Our patrols
delivered her handwritten letters at various points in the forest near Russian
outposts by attaching them to the branches of trees; their red markings made
them easily recognizable. The results were unmistakable, since the number of
deserters doubled very quickly. When, in addition, Vera's voice was recorded
 WINTER WAR 131

and transmitted over loudspeakers near the enemy lines, the number of de-
serters along the entire sector increased so much that it exceeded 400 only
three weeks after the start of this improvised propaganda campaign. This
figure was much higher than the combined total of deserters on all other sec-
tors of Ninth Army's front. The idea of using Vera as the mainstay of a prop-
aganda campaign had proven quite effective.
Four days later a few bottles of liquor made a powerful propaganda im-
provisation that eliminated the danger of a local enemy penetration. After
one of our limited-objective attacks, the Russians attempted several strong
counterthrusts. The situation became very tense when several Soviet tanks
penetrated our lines and I had to commit our last tactical reserve. Ultimately
we destroyed the offending tanks, but while this took place some Russian in-
fantry infiltrated our lines as well. Not many Russians got through at first,
but more and more followed. In this difficult situation the local Alarmein-
heiten commander sent a civilian with a few bottles of liquor to the Red
Army soldiers now behind his lines and invited them to taste these samples.
They were told that they could drink to their heart's content if they decided
to come over unarmed. Slightly inebriated by the first bottles, they began to
arrive hesitantly and in small groups without weapons. As soon as the first
wave had convinced itself that the Germans had no intention of killing them,
about fifty additional Russians turned up to receive their liquor. They in-
dulged so heavily that they forgot all about their weapons, quite apart from
the fact that they were now physically incapable of returning to them.
Meanwhile, one of our security detachments picked up the abandoned
weapons and stopped all further Soviet infiltration attempts.

Kholminka: The Last Attack

The final attack conducted by 6th Panzer Division prior to being withdrawn
from Russia for rehabilitation in France occurred in late March. The objec-
tive of the operation was the elimination of a Russian forest salient about
eight kilometers deep and the capture of Kholminka, which lay at its base.
Though considerably stronger than it had been in January or early Febru-
ary, 6th Panzer Division in many respects remained a motley organization. It
now consisted of the divisional staff, an understrengthed signal battalion,
three consolidated infantry battalions, one motorcycle company, one panzer
company, one assault gun platoon, one panzer reconnaissance platoon, one
medium artillery battalion, one heavy artillery battalion, and one flak bat-
talion. In a positive sense, officers and NCOs not only had considerable com-
bat experience in Russia but had gained specific experience in winter fight-
ing during the attacks on Tatarinka and Vasilevka. Moreover, supplies
 132 PANZER OPERATIONS

(including ammunition) remained generally adequate for a limited attack. Fi-

nally, we had the continued assurance of Luftwaffe support out of the
Vyazma area, which had proven so beneficial during February.
Two Red Army rifle regiments, supported by two artillery battalions, oc-
cupied the objective area, with their headquarters in Kholminka. Their six
battalions held the area south and east of the town, generally organized in
strongpoints along the edge of the woods, so as to block the approaches to
Kholminka. Suffering from supply difficulties, the Russians had found them-
selves unable to launch any further large-scale attacks.
Terrain and weather determined, to a marked degree, both our plan of at-
tack and the eventual course of the operation. A meter of snow covered the
ground in the open, restricting all movement. Although frozen on the sur-
face, this snow broke easily under a man's weight. Movement in the forest
was even more laborious, for the snow-laden lower limbs of the trees, pri-
marily firs, touched the ground, impeding the attacker while concealing the
defender. An almost impenetrable tangle of limbs, stumps, and windfalls
formed an additional obstacle to all movement. At the end of March the
weather was clear and sunny, with the temperature rising nearly to the freez-
ing point during the day, but falling precipitously again at night.
Under such conditions there could be little thought of deploying troops on
a broad front. An advance of any distance had to be carried out in column,
along cleared or beaten paths and trails. This applied to tanks and assault
guns as well as men. Wheeled vehicles were confined entirely to the cleared
road between Tatarinka and Mashchekino, which constituted the jump-off
line. Trackless snowfields separated our outposts from those of the Russians
except for a single trail that led north into the tip of the wooded salient just
west of Mashchekino. On the other side of this no-man's land the Soviets
naturally labored under the same handicaps. Luftwaffe photos revealed
heavy sled traffic leading out of Kholminka.
With this conditions in mind, I considered three possible routes of attack:
westward from Podukhye; northward from Masilyevka; and northwest from
Mashchekino through the woods. The first I discarded because it would have
entailed a time-consuming regrouping of the division's forces, which had al-
ready been concentrated in the Masilyevka-Mashchekino area and, conse-
quently, would have left the southern area vulnerable to a counterattack.
The second alternative offered the shortest route to the objective and led
through only a short neck of woods. But this was also the most strongly de-
fended sector and could be most easily reinforced by the enemy. Moreover,
the configuration of the forest, the slopes of which were fortified, was such
that an attack from the south, necessarily crossing open ground, would im-
 WINTER WAR 133

mediately have come under heavy fire from the front and both flanks. On
both of these routes traversing the open country the snow was especially
deep, which would have hampered movement by foot and denied our infantry
the support of tanks and assault guns.
The third possibility—attacking through the woods—had the disadvantage
inherent to all attacks through forests and, in addition, was the longest route
to the objective. Yet this route also followed the only available communications
links to Kholminka—a narrow sled road leading north through the forest from
Mashchekino, and a trail that ran along the western edge of the woods for sev-
eral kilometers and then through the narrow neck of woods into Kholminka.
I also thought that the Russians would be less likely to expect an attack in this
area and that the sector would therefore be less strongly held. Thus having de-
cided on the third route as the line of attack, I discussed on 23 March my pro-
posal in detail with all the subordinate commanders who were to participate
in the operation. I gave special attention to the effort to achieve tactical sur-
prise in order to deceive the enemy as to the route of the main attack.
The main effort of the attack I intended to make along the road to the
north, while a secondary attack was to follow the trail along the western
edge of the woods. The eastern column would consist of two infantry
Kampfgruppen of battalion strength, commanded by Captain Kueper and
Lieutenant Hesse, supported by an engineer company and our available
armor (one PzKw IV, three PzKw 38ts, and five StG Ills). Kampfgruppe
Schmising, whose mission was diversionary, consisted of roughly an infantry
battalion primarily composed of new recruits. In addition, I ordered feints
and demonstrations from both Podukhye and Vasilevka. Lieutenant Colonel
Unrein's motorcycle company and panzer reconnaissance elements were to
remain in reserve. Our artillery (including flak employed in a ground support
role) was tasked to support the operation from positions in the Mashchekino
area. Aided by aerial observations, Colonel Grundherr's gunners ranged in
on all known enemy defensive strongpoints during the days immediately pre-
ceding the attack.
With the attack scheduled to begin on 31 March, our troops spent the two
preceding nights clearing the snow from the main column's approach road,
from the point where it left the main highway just west of Mashchekino to
the outpost positions, so that our armor could move up to support the in-
fantry from the outset. Meanwhile, preparations in and around Vasilevka, in-
cluding demonstrations by armored cars and transport vehicles, occurred
openly, while artillery fire fell on the positions defending the approach to
Kholminka across the narrow neck of the forest. All of these efforts went
forth in the hope of deceiving the Russians as to our true intentions.
 134 PANZER OPERATIONS

The operation got under way as scheduled. Adding a final touch to the de-
ception scheme, Kampfgruppe Schmising moved out at 0500, two hours in
advance of the main column, so as to make the first contact with the Soviets.
The route followed by Schmising's troops, moreover, had been selected to
give the impression of preparing the way for a stronger attack across the
open country to the west. At dawn the Luftwaffe carried out a bombing raid,
spearheaded by twenty-five "Stukas," on Russian defensive positions in the
neck of the woods and on the village of Kholminka itself.
At 0700 the main column, proceeding double file, jumped off from posi-
tions just west of Mashchekino, led by experienced assault troops and com-
bat engineers equipped to destroy enemy bunkers. Immediately following
were the bulk of our tanks and assault guns, accompanied by snow-removal
teams, more engineers, and additional infantry from Kueper's battalion. The
few remaining AFVs [armored fighting vehicles] were distributed throughout
the length of the column to deal with possible flank attacks, while Hesse's
battalion brought up the rear.
Schmising's battalion met no resistance initially and made fairly rapid
progress. The main force, however, came under fire almost immediately from
Soviet bunkers in the southern edge of the woods. Resistance there was over-
come fairly rapidly by a combination of tank fire and assault, and these
bunkers yielded our first prisoners. Following this initial encounter the ad-
vance moved forward slowly. Snow piled up rapidly in front of the tanks and
assault guns, whose movement had to be governing entirely by the snow-
removal effort. In addition, the narrowness of the road in several spots re-
quired that trees be cut before the tracked vehicles could proceed.
Meanwhile, Captain Schmising had pushed forward about three kilome-
ters, half the distance to Kholminka, where he had run up against the first
Russian strongpoint astride the trail. A flank assault sufficed to eliminate this
resistance without much difficulty, but a much stronger position, protected
by wire obstacles and abatis, barred the way about a kilometer later. A front
attack on this position failed and revealed that the approaches to the bunker
had been mined. This reversal had its effect on the younger recruits, and
some reorganization became necessary before the column could get moving
again. Captain Schmising decided to bypass the Soviet position and led the
battalion east into the forest for a short distance before turning northwest.
No longer following the trail, the troops had to proceed step by step through
the trackless and nearly impenetrable forest, fighting underbrush and guided
only by compasses.
About noon, as the head of Schmising's column neared the northern edge
of the forest, the entire battalion suddenly came under rifle and machine-gun
fire from both sides. Once more the battalion's situation became critical, as
 WINTER WAR 135

the sudden attack from different directions had a demoralizing effect on the
new men. Only the prompt and energetic measures of experienced officers
and NCOs allowed a hasty defense to be organized and the attack countered
by our own fire. Gradually these leaders organized little islands of resistance,
calmed the panic-stricken recruits, and established a strong hedgehog posi-
tion. Informed by radio of the course of the action, I ordered Schmising's
battalion to remain in place until the main column could join it. No artillery
or air support could be provided, since it was impossible to determine the
exact position of either friend or foe.
In the meantime the main column had inched its way east along the sled
road for nearly two kilometers. Tanks and assault teams combined two or
three times to overcome strongpoints along the road, and many raids against
the flanks of the long column had to be repelled. Casualties among messen-
gers and horse-drawn supply sleds finally necessitated armed escorts for the
latter. As the column finally approached the northern edge of the woods at
noon, all of the division's artillery concentrated its fire on the final enemy
position directly to the front. Russian artillery promptly countered with a
heavy fire, inflicting several casualties. Fortunately, the Luftwaffe now re-
sponded to my call for support and succeeded in silencing the Soviet batter-
ies, located about three kilometers west of Kholminka. At 1300, the spear-
head of Kueper's battalion broke through the final defensive position at the
edge of the woods.
A single strongpoint still lay about 1.5 kilometers to the northeast, be-
tween the edge of the forest and Podubbye, constituting a potential threat to
the main column's rear. An infantry company, supported by several assault
guns, was dispatched to remove this threat. Without awaiting the outcome of
that action, Captain Kueper resumed his advance to the west, hoping to cap-
ture Kholminka before dark, which would mean that he might enjoy air sup-
port for his final assault. Advancing through the open terrain, however,
proved impossible as long as his left flank remained exposed to fire from the
woods. This forced Captain Kueper to order Lieutenant Hesse's battalion to
proceed along the edge of the woods—paralleling the road—to remove the
threat from that sector. Aided by a slowly rolling artillery barrage, Hesse's
men fought their way through the Schmising's embattled battalion during the
afternoon.
By that time Kueper's battalion and its supporting armor had reached
Kholminka and, in a final assault (preceded by an air attack), fought its way
into the eastern half of the town. There the attack ended for the day, just
short of completing the mission, with the troops exhausted by the their day-
long battle with the enemy and the elements. Mop-up operations and the
capture of the western half of Kholminka, which was not strongly held, were
 136 PANZER OPERATIONS

carried out on 1 April. More than 300 prisoners were taken, and we counted
about 150 Russian dead. The 6th Panzer Division's casualties totaled eight-
een dead and forty wounded.
Just before the division was transferred to France for reorganization in
April, we encountered yet another example of the Soviet propensity for com-
mitting atrocities against our troops. An elderly Russian civilian, a carpenter,
appeared at division headquarters and reported that he had encountered a
group of about forty German prisoners of war with a Red Army escort in his
village a few kilometers behind the enemy front. These prisoners, he contin-
ued, had soon afterward been halted at the northern outskirts of the village,
where they had dug deep pits. According to eyewitness reports, the prisoners
had subsequently been shot and then buried in those pits. A few days later
the village was captured in a German attack; the incident was investigated
and found to be true.
Chapter 7

OUTSIDE STALINGRAD

Back to Russia

IN THE M I D D L E OF N O V E M B E R 1 9 4 2 . , after being adequately reha-

bilitated, provided with a complete reissue of weapons, and thoroughly
trained in the West, the 6th Panzer Division—its units again above author-
ized strength—rolled eastward in seventy-eight trains of approximately fifty
cars each. During the 4,000-kilometer journey from France there were un-
pleasant incidents, since such a large-scale troop movement—which crossed
the whole of Europe in scarcely two weeks—could not remain hidden from
the enemy. In the extensive marshy forests of the Pripyat region our troops
became the targets of several partisan raids, directed especially against the
trains carrying tanks and artillery, since these seemed both less dangerous
and offering greater rewards. The tarpaulins camouflaging them did not pre-
vent the trained eyes of the partisans lurking in ambush from identifying the
big weapons.
Had I allowed the division to adhere to the entraining regulations govern-
ing troop movements, these trains would have been defenseless. These regu-
lations, designed to economize in the use of freight cars, provided that
troops, weapons, combat equipment, and ammunition were to be loaded as
compactly as possible. This process necessarily split up units because the tac-
tical preparation of the troops was not a consideration. (In addition, the
trains carrying our panzers had to include compressed forage to facilitate the
difficult winter provisioning of horse-drawn units in the East.)
Although fully acknowledging the reasons for these measures, based on
my experiences with conditions in Russia I was primarily concerned with the
ability of the units being transported to go immediately into combat. I gave
priority, therefore, to such preparations over all other considerations, making
allowances for other factors and compromises with the civilian railroad au-
thorities only to the extent that they did not interfere with the troops' readi-

I 37
 138 PANZER OPERATIONS

ness for action during the movement. Hence, in spite of the fact that it was
prohibited by regulations and the protests of the rail transportation author-
ities, I had the division transported in "combat trains."
This involved a different way of loading men and equipment, as well as a
different order and distribution of the various combat elements. Allowances
had to be made both for repelling partisan raids and leaving the train to fight
regular Red Army forces. Care also had to be taken to ensure that, in the lat-
ter case, the men in each train (together with the men in the trains immedi-
ately following) would form a combined-arms force capable of fighting in-
dependently until reinforcements arrived.
The course of 6th Panzer Division's movement and its arrival at our desti-
nation proved the value of these measures. Partisans along our route every-
where encountered a well-prepared, abruptly initiated defensive operation,
no matter whether they blasted tracks or placed obstacles on the rails. De-
fensive countermeasures had been envisaged against all of these possibilities.
In particularly dangerous stretches of the rail line, trained sentries with their
weapons ready to fire (and with hand grenades also primed) were positioned
along both sides and at either end of every car. The men in each car had been
placed in the brakeman's boxes; at night searchlights went into action when-
ever necessary. Their cones of light, shining out of both sides of the train as
soon as the first shot was fired, dazzled the partisans and made it possible for
our men to see every movement and discern their intentions. Thereupon they
were defeated with rapid fire and hand grenades.
The brakes were applied and the train came to a sudden halt. At the same
moment, active—aggressive—defensive measures commenced. We had
drilled this into the men until the response became automatic. While the ma-
chine guns fired from the brakeman's boxes provided protection, our
grenadiers would rapidly mop up along the forest edges, and presently the
train would be rolling east again.
More time had to be taken when the tracks had been destroyed, but this
predominantly occurred at points where it was possible to repair them
quickly, since all stations, bridges, and other important objectives were pro-
tected by permanent sentries. In order to prevent derailments and to protect
the locomotives from being damaged, the engineers drove through partisan-
infested areas at a slow pace, pushing two or three empty cars ahead of the
engine.
In most cases the technical damage could be eliminated quickly by engi-
neer teams riding in the leading sections of each train. We had provided these
engineers with the appropriate tools and equipment. During such halts as
were necessary for them to work, the train was secured from all sides and pa-
trols searched the immediate vicinity. At night the crews removed the tarpau-
 OUTSIDE STALINGRAD 139

lins from their tanks and made them ready to fire; this proved to be a very ef-
fective means of defense. We included a large number of emergency ramps
throughout the trains, which made it possible to unload the panzers quickly
whenever necessary and to commit them against especially strong partisan
groups. In order to increase protection for the artillery transports (which the
enemy particularly liked to attack), we frequently assigned 20mm flak guns
to them, since the partisans had a devout fear of the tracer ammunition they
fired.
These precautions yielded good results. Because of them, most of our
trains suffered insignificant losses and arrived at their destinations on sched-
ule, despite numerous partisan raids. Only one artillery train suffered the
loss of a battalion commander and several men killed in a surprise raid un-
dertaken by an unusually strong partisan group in conjunction with a dem-
olition of the tracks. Even this train, however, arrived at the detraining point
with all its guns and without any delay to speak of. The partisans, on the
other hand, sustained severe losses as a result of the powerful defensive op-
erations that had been immediately initiated. They were particularly taken
aback by sudden and vigorous counterattacks, which forced them either to
engage in bloody close combat if their forces were strong, or to flee in haste.

Raid on a Troop Train

The scenes that the soldiers of the 6th Panzer Division had observed on their
journey across the European continent were still passing through their
minds. The coasts of Brittany, washed by the booming waves of the Atlantic,
lay far behind. Far behind also lay the peaceful towns, villages, and hamlets
of the West and their homeland, which they had passed through so quickly.
The verdure of meadows and fields brightly reflected the autumn sun, and
the spires and gables of churches and castles were radiant. Paris and Berlin,
the two great cultural centers of Europe, as well as the ruins of Warsaw, left
a great impression on everyone who had seen them. All that was now a dis-
tant dream.
For days and nights the troops had been rolling through the Eastern coun-
tryside, through its extensive forests and marshes, its infinite plains and
steppes, its sluggish streams and rivers. By the time the transports had
reached Rostov on the Don River—the "gateway" to the Caucasus—after
passing through Kharkov and Stalino, traversing the Donets River basin, and
passing the Sea of Azov, the soldiers had already forgotten their adventures
with the partisans.
Instead of moving on in the direction of the Caucasus, however, the trains
veered north; our destination was suddenly uncertain. No one was able to
 140 PANZER OPERATIONS

say where the trains were headed. The situation was still obscure when, on
the evening of 26 November, the first trains passed Tsimovniki, where the
headquarters of Fourth Panzer Army was temporarily situated, itself on its
way north. Trains jammed all the stations, and the sidetracks had become
clogged with huge Russian locomotives captured during our offensive.
A cold wind blew through the monotonous brown steppe, driving before
it innumerable balls of tumbleweed. They resembled a pack of hounds chas-
ing game at top speed, moving forward in great leaps. A few camel riders
moved alongside the train on steppe trails, trying to reach their solitary huts
before darkness fell. At every halt we inquired of the personnel of the nu-
merous evacuation trains running south which was the last station it was pos-
sible to reach. "This morning it was still Kotelnikovo," was the answer. This
was the information that Colonel General Hermann Hoth, commander of
the Fourth Panzer Army, had given me at a briefing at his temporary head-
quarters, for which I had been summoned away from the lead train.
The situation, General Hoth then revealed to me, was even worse that the
first conference with Field Marshal Erich von Manstein, commander of
Army Group Don, had led me to expect when we met as I was en route to
Rostov. The Russian IV Cavalry Corps, reinforced by tanks, was advancing
along the southern bank of the Don River, and its leading elements had al-
ready crossed the southern branch of the Aksay River. The enemy's Fifty-first
Army was slowly advancing on both sides of the railroad in the direction of
Kotelnikovo. Intelligence had already identified two tank corps assembling
behind the northern branch of the Aksay River.
Facing these enemy forces of considerable strength, south of the Don
River, were a few Luftwaffe flak batteries that had just moved up from the
Caucasus and the VI Rumanian Corps headquarters staff with a headquar-
ters guard totaling thirty men. Far off in the steppe, the remnants of the 5th
and 8th Rumanian Cavalry Divisions, with a total combat strength of about
1,200 cavalrymen, were retreating. Thus one could not speak of a German
front any longer; in fact, within the entire area there was not a single Ger-
man unit capable of offering even temporary resistance to the advancing Rus-
sians. This situation resulted in part from the fact that all of the German and
some of the Rumanian units composing Fourth Panzer Army had been en-
circled in Stalingrad and that the Rumanian divisions employed on a very
broad front south of the city along the edge of the Kalmyck Steppe had been
equipped with hopelessly inadequate antitank weapons. Thus the Russian
tanks had easily pierced their front and scattered them so effectively that the
weak remnants were disintegrating. Even General Hoth's headquarters staff
had barely escaped the disaster. I learned that the battle-weary 23rd Panzer
Division was about to be moved up, but this was small comfort, since the di-
 OUTSIDE STALINGRAD 141

vision had only the combat strength of two weak battalions and, having ar-
tillery but no tanks, would first have to undergo emergency rehabilitation be-
hind the Sal River before it could engage in even defensive combat.
The approaching troops of the 6th Panzer Division as yet knew nothing of
this highly unpleasant situation, but they realized that they would be enter-
ing combat soon and displayed every confidence in their own strength and
ability. The trains lunged ahead at full speed, slowly climbing the hills be-
tween the river valleys in broad sweeping curves, then plummeting quickly
into the next valley. Climbing and descending these grades in a pitch-black
night, the lead trains neared their destination. Guards and sentries per-
formed their duty in the usual manner, just as they had done through the
partisan-infested regions. All the men in the first train rested on benches, in
baggage racks, and on the floors; they were fully clothed and their weapons
handy.
It was dawn on 27 November 1942 by the time the train had climbed the
last hill between the Sal and Aksay River valleys. The aroma of morning cof-
fee drifted over from the field kitchen as the train entered Semichnoya, the
last station before Kotelnikovo, which was our final destination. The long
voyage, the endless rolling and grinding of wheels, the rattling and bumping
of the cars would soon be over, or so the gradually awakening soldiers
thought as they searchingly looked over the dim outlines of the area in which
the small town was likely to be situated. After several weeks of rail travel,
they expected comfortable quarters to be waiting for them.
Just then, a long evacuation train from Kotelnikovo roared into the sta-
tion. Two engines had strained to pull it up an ascending stretch of twenty
kilometers. With intense curiosity the men asked the personnel in the evacu-
ation train how things were going in Kotelnikovo. "There is complete calm
and order," they were told.

Two evacuation trains are waiting for your arrival, an they will be the last
to leave the town. Aside from a few planes, we saw no Russians. Except for
a few old men constituting the railroad station guard, there are no German
soldiers in the town. A few groups of unarmed Rumanians drove herds of
sheep past us. That is all we were able to see. The Russian farmers in the
surrounding countryside are surprised that we are evacuating the town,
and they regret it very much. They were always polite and ready to help,
and they will be very glad to see you.

A few short, shrill whistles sounded by the train commander called the
troops back into their cars and put a sudden stop to the questioning. Shortly
thereafter the train started again with the usual jerk and grinding of buffers.
 142 PANZER OPERATIONS

Quickly it neared its destination. The soldiers on board packed their per-
sonal belongings and felt happy at finally being able to leave the train in
which they had been tormented for weeks. A nice little town in the valley of
the northern arm of the Aksay River was already coming into sight. At the
edge of town stood a triu