The Eastern Front 1941-43 Page 2

  On 19 August, the Red Army attacked from Volkhov, destroying the best part of two German divisions in the process. This time, their pre-emptive strike worked and von Manstein’s offensive plans were scuppered. Leningrad also remained as tantalizingly out of reach as Moscow.

  The Leningrad Philharmonic playing Shostakovich’s new symphony in the ruins of the besieged city.

  There was also a further operation by the Germans before Operation BLUE was launched. While most of the Crimean peninsula had been captured the previous November, the port and fortress of Sebastopol had remained besieged, stubbornly defended and supplied by the Soviet Navy, which had retained control of the Black Sea.

  The Red Army had tried to relieve the city the previous Christmas by launching an amphibious assault on the Kerch peninsula further to the east, but this had been recaptured again by May 1942 and a renewed Axis assault on Sebastopol began. More units of the overstretched Luftwaffe were sent south to the Crimea, as were some 600 pieces of artillery, including two monstrous railway guns. The ‘Dora’ needed sixty steam engines just to move it and involved building new railway tracks, as well as tying up some 4,120 men. The shell it fired had a diameter of 80cm – almost one metre wide! Operating these two guns caused a logistical headache out of all proportion to its offensive benefits. As many as 500 men were needed just to fire it. ‘An extraordinary piece of engineering,’ noted General Franz Halder, Chief of Staff of the Army, ‘but useless.’

  Certainly the guns didn’t secure a swift victory. By the end of June, Sebastopol still held out and the Germans then resorted to using poison smoke to clear the caverns below the city. Not until 9 July did the defenders finally surrender. The cost to both sides was huge, but was felt more keenly by the Germans, who had thrown an entire army into the final battle; 25,000 German soldiers died in that last offensive and 70,000 overall. Sebastopol also sucked up gargantuan amounts of resources at an average rate of 135 railway wagons a day. It was something of a Pyrrhic victory, while the grim defence did nothing but stiffen Red Army resolve.

  When Operation BLUE was launched with a mighty artillery barrage at 2.15 a.m. on 28 June 1942, General Balck’s 11th Panzer Division were at the front of the advance. By 9 a.m. they had crossed a vital river obstacle and, while under fire, Balck went forward to see his infantry, then accompanied his panzers as they sped forward. ‘It was an intoxicating picture,’ he wrote, ‘the wide, treeless plains covered with 150 advancing tanks, above them a Stuka squadron.’ The advance continued, but this time the enemy melted away, retreating before they could be captured. The Red Army was learning.

  None the less, Operation BLUE appeared to be going well, although Hitler was beginning to micro-manage once more. From the depths of his bunker, the Wolf’s Lair in East Prussia, he insisted on sending two precious panzer divisions west to France then concentrating too many others against Rostov, leaving flanks dangerously exposed. When the folly of this became apparent, he flew into a fit of rage. Nothing was ever Hitler’s fault. ‘The situation is getting more and more intolerable,’ noted General Halder. ‘This so-called leadership is characterized by a pathological reaction to the impressions of the moment and a total lack of any understanding of the command machinery and its possibilities.’

  Even so, Operation BLUE had smashed the Red Army’s front and thereafter the German advance into the Caucasus was rapid. Maikop, a major objective, was captured, although its oil wells had been destroyed by the retreating Russians. Meanwhile, General Friedrich Paulus’s Sixth Army was also advancing east towards Stalingrad on the River Volga.

  The outskirts of Stalingrad were reached on 10 August, but by then the advance south into the Caucasus was beginning to slow as once again the supply lines began to stretch and Red Army resistance grew. The Germans were now more than 500 miles further on, the distance at which they could no longer operate with the speed and manoeuvrability that was the benchmark of their operational and tactical skill. They had exceeded what is known as the culmination point.

  Hitler had dreamed of creating a mammoth Axis link between Rommel’s forces advancing from Egypt into the Middle East and his armies in the Soviet Union, but this was pure fantasy. In fact, it was also absurd to believe they could capture the world’s third-largest producing oilfields in Baku, even though that had been the prime strategic aim of Operation BLUE.

  Such ambition was extremely flawed thinking for a number of reasons. First, the Red Army would destroy the wells in advance as they had at Maikop. Second, even if they didn’t, the Germans had no means of either refining the oil or, more importantly, transporting it west. The only pipelines were few and far between and all headed east to the Urals. Oil was transported around the world almost entirely by ship – as it still is today – yet Germany had neither shipping nor access to the world’s oceans. The alternative was the railway, but the Reichsbahn was already operating at capacity and had nothing like enough oil wagons.

  Incredibly, no one within the Reich appears to have considered any of this.

  Instead, the Germans believed the Soviet Union was already on the point of collapse and that the capture of Baku would hasten its capitulation. However, because the Luftwaffe did not have the aircraft to bomb or spy on either Baku or the growing industrial relocation in the Urals, they had little idea that the Soviet Union was rapidly and very effectively increasing its armaments production. Faulty intelligence, compounded by Hitler’s desire always to listen to over-optimistic appreciations, meant Operation BLUE had been launched on an entirely false promise. For example, German intelligence reckoned the Soviet Union had 6,600 aircraft when in fact they had 22,000. They thought the Red Army had 6,000 tanks when the real number was 24,446. In artillery they were even further off the mark: 7,800 guns instead of the 33,000 that was the reality. These were very big errors.

  As it happened, however, the Germans never reached Baku. Once again, their armies had run out of steam.

  This marked the end for General Halder, who was fired in September. Ironically, as some of Germany’s best commanders were finding themselves out of a job, the Red Army had learned much after more than a year of bitter warfare and a number of their very best commanders were now coming to the fore. One of those was General Konstantin Rokossovsky, of Polish descent and a man who had been on the receiving end of Stalin’s purge of the Red Army in the 1930s. Most of the army’s senior leadership had been executed – one reason for poor performance early in the war – and Rokossovsky had been lucky to lose only his teeth and a number of fingernails. Since his release from prison he had repeatedly proved himself to be one of Stalin’s most capable and inspirational generals and had swiftly risen up the ranks as a result. By November 1942, he was commanding the Don Front, a group of armies facing the Germans at Stalingrad – and brilliantly so too.

  Marshal Konstantin Rokossovsky.

  As the winter of 1942 began to bite, it was clear that Paulus’s Sixth Army was becoming horribly bogged down at Stalingrad, while the El Dorado of Baku was as out of reach as ever. Either side of Sixth Army were Axis allies: one Italian army to the north and a Romanian one on each side, and their forces were neither as well equipped nor of equal fighting quality as the Germans. Their fighting capacity had been further weakened by attrition and the advent of winter.

  Realizing this, on 19 November the Red Army launched Operation URANUS to the north and south of the city. Through the winter mist, Russian troops attacked in thick snow like apocalyptic spectres, smashing their way through both Romanian armies to link up 35 miles west of Stalingrad. Trapped in the middle were more than a quarter of a million troops, including the remains of Sixth Army, once one of Germany’s finest. By 24 November, a massive gap had opened up between the German forces to the north and those still in the Caucasus. How the tables had turned. Paulus asked permission to try to break out, but this was refused. Instead, the Luftwaffe were ordered to fly in supplies until Sixth Army could be relieved. They never managed a fraction of what was needed.

&
nbsp; It was Rokossovsky’s Don Front that was now ordered to destroy the Germans at Stalingrad. The offensive began on 10 January 1943. On the 16th, the main airfield was captured and with that the fate of Sixth Army was sealed for good. Against Hitler’s wishes, Paulus surrendered on 31 January in what was the most crushing and devastating defeat so far suffered by the Germans in the war.

  With the triumph of Stalingrad, Stalin now called for a renewed Red Army drive westwards using three fronts – that is, groups of armies. Soviet industry was producing increasing amounts of war materiel and more was coming from the USA and Britain, while the Red Army was showing signs of increasing competence. The plan was still overambitious, however.

  Even so, by March the Germans had been thrown back between 200 and 420 miles. The Italian, Hungarian and two Romanian armies had all been utterly destroyed, and all the ground lost in the Caucasus retaken. German forces west of Moscow had survived being encircled, but Kharkov had also been retaken – Hitler had forbidden any retreat from the city, but this time the SS Panzer Corps that held it ignored the order and pulled out on 15 February.

  Despite these stunning reverses, suddenly it was the Red Army that was overstretched with lines of supply that were far too long. On 4 March, they halted their advances only for the Germans to counter-attack. Rather than allow themselves to be encircled, the Red Army sensibly fell back out of comparative danger, although it meant abandoning Kharkov yet again, as well as, some 250 miles to the north, Bryansk and Orel. The Russians did, however, hold on to the city of Kursk so that by the time the long, bloody and bitter winter fighting finally died down at the end of March there was a large bulge, or salient, sticking out some 60 miles to the west of the town and running some 150 miles north to south.

  It was clear the lull was just that – a pause – and that the Germans would soon use the summer to go on the offensive once more. With the key cities of Orel and Kharkov to the north and south, it was also obvious that this large salient of rolling, well-cultivated farmland was where the next great battle would take place.

  For Hitler and the Nazi leadership, the war in the Soviet Union had never been just about gaining food, oil and living space. There was also an ideological element: a battle of survival in which German ‘Aryans’ were fighting inferior ‘Slavs’ or Untermenschen – inferior beings. For the Nazis, it was a racial war. By making it so they were rather shooting themselves in the foot, however. During the 1930s, the Ukraine had suffered a famine in which millions had died. Many Ukrainians held Stalin directly responsible and even welcomed the Nazi invaders, but although some were absorbed into the Wehrmacht, many more faced barbarity. Villages were burned, people executed, and others rounded up and taken prisoner.

  Soviet prisoners of war were also treated appallingly compared with western Allied POWs. Those who did not die of starvation and illness were forced into slave labour. So began a cycle of barely comprehensible violence and cruelty.

  Large numbers of Soviet civilians and former soldiers who had fled the German advances or somehow escaped their clutches had, by the spring of 1943, become particularly vicious and increasingly effective bands of outlaws, or partisans, organized from within the Soviet Union by the NKVD, the Soviet intelligence service. These partisans were blowing up railway lines and roads, attacking convoys and ambushing any troops they could, while also passing back vital intelligence. In effect, the partisans had become a fourth armed service, and made the already difficult task of supply even harder for the Germans.

  For the Germans, clearing the Kursk salient was an urgent priority. The bulge added around 150 miles to the front line, which was tying up some eighteen divisions. By straightening the line, they would free up those men and, more importantly, would destroy the main concentration of Red Army forces. These now included the Central Front, which had been formed back in February and which was commanded by Rokossovsky, as well as General Nikolai Vatutin’s Voronezh Front in the southern part of the salient.

  Hopes for the forthcoming battle were high. It would be a chance to restore prestige and confidence and show the world the Wehrmacht was far from beaten. From April and into June 1943, the Germans began preparing for this next massive attack, codenamed CITADEL.

  It was Marshal Zhukov who persuaded Stalin and the GKO to stand firm, dig in, use the increasing amounts of war materiel coming from the Urals, and make the Germans fight for every yard. Only once the German attack had been blunted would the Soviets go on the offensive. For once, Stalin listened. In April, the Red Army began digging a massive series of defences. In all, there were five ‘belts’ around the salient and Kursk itself, and a further three behind. Each of these belts included several lines of bunkers, gun positions, minefields and wire. The entire population was evacuated from the outer zone and villages turned into small fortresses and strongpoints. Intelligence from partisans, from British code-breakers and from Soviet spies and signals intelligence made it clear the Germans would attack from two points, one in the north and one in the south. This, then, was where the defences were made strongest.

  Soviet intelligence was so good that by the beginning of July they not only knew where the Germans would attack but with what and when. On the other hand, German intelligence was also good enough to know that Rokossovsky was staying in a small cottage halfway between Kursk and the north edge of the salient, and so on the night of 3 July, two days before CITADEL’s launch, two planes came over and destroyed the house. By chance, however, Rokossovsky was not there. It was a lucky escape.

  The Germans had amassed some 900,000 men, 10,000 guns, 2,700 tanks and 2,000 aircraft. General Kurt Student and the men of Ninth Army would attack from the north, while General Hermann Hoth’s Fourth Panzer Army assaulted from the south. Inside the salient were some 1.3 million Red Army troops, double the number of German guns and 3,600 tanks. A military rule of thumb is never to attack without at least a three-to-one advantage, but not only did the Germans not have this, they were also confronting the most formidable defences they had yet come up against. Soviet air power was also on the rise with some 2,400 bombers, fighters and ground attack aircraft such as the Ilyushin Il-2 Sturmovik.

  What’s more, captured prisoners had revealed that the attack would begin in the early hours of 5 July 1943. In an effort to put the enemy off their stride, Rokossovsky had opened up 500 of his own guns first at around 2.20 a.m., along with a similar number of mortars and 100 Katyusha rocket-launchers. This certainly shook German confidence, but did not stop them launching an immense artillery barrage at around 4.30 a.m. Half an hour later, the Germans attacked from the south and at 5.50 a.m. they began their assault from the north.

  The Fourth Panzer Army in the south was full of tanks, motorized infantry and artillery, and included new mighty Panther and Tiger tanks. It was the kind of armoured spearhead that had cut swathes through much of Europe, but now many of the new tanks broke down, while others found themselves being pummelled in turn by Russian anti-tank guns from their well-prepared positions. In the north, similarly prepared and well-sighted positions also intercepted the main German thrust. One after another, German tanks were hit and knocked out.

  By 10 July, the Germans had managed to penetrate 20 miles in the south and about 7 miles in the north, and had reached only the third line of defence. The next day, 11 July, the panzers renewed their attack from the south. The fine summer weather was breaking and by the morning of the 12th, as the panzers neared the small town of Prokhorovka, thunderclouds were building. Joined by the II SS Panzer Corps with some 600 tanks, including 100 Tigers, they were now confronted by a counter-thrust from the Fifth Guards Tank Army.

  The Battle of Prokhorovka, which followed that day, has often been called the ‘greatest tank battle in history’. Although the numbers involved have often been wildly exaggerated, it did involve more than 800 on both sides. The Russians came off worst and left some 400 burnt-out hulks on the field of battle, but despite this, that same day Hitler called a halt to CITADEL. Two days earlier,
the Allies had landed in Sicily, requiring a diversion of resources and especially Luftwaffe aircraft to meet this new threat – one that was far closer to home.

  Now came the Red Army counter-attack. Rokossovky’s men, with a mass of tanks and artillery, ground down the best German efforts to hold on, gradually pushing forward. Orel was retaken on 4 August. At the same time, almost 100,000 coordinated partisans began what was known as the ‘Railway War’: blowing up railway lines in thousands of places, killing rail crew and paralysing the German lines of communication. On the night of 20/21 July, for example, they cut the main line from Bryansk in 430 places.

  In the south, Vatutin’s front was joined by another group of armies, the Steppe Front, and then Zhukov himself was sent forward to coordinate this massive combined counter-offensive there. The battered, exhausted and demoralized Germans had no answer. On 5 August, Belgorod was retaken. By midday on 23 August, Kharkov was once again in Soviet hands, and this time would remain so. In some fifty days of fighting, Red Army losses had been horrific but so had those of the Germans: some half a million dead, wounded and missing, and around thirty divisions destroyed. These were casualties they simply could not afford.

  What’s more, the Red Army was now a very different beast. The factories of the Urals, along with US and British convoys, were providing ever-greater firepower on the ground and in the air, while the Soviet commanders now understood the importance of the ‘deep battle’. Five new tank armies were thrusting deep into the German line after any breakthrough, at great speed and with the support of large numbers of aircraft, before the enemy could pull back. It was proving very effective.