11
I JOIN A SUICIDE SQUAD
As I settled down for a night’s sleep and began to relax to the gentle rocking of the train, my thoughts drifted back to the happenings of the last day. Could so much have really taken place in little more than twenty-four hours? Our departure from Modlin to Warka seemed like an eternity ago. Since then our train had been destroyed, another fluke had saved my life and I was now in deeper trouble than ever with my commanding-officer. A bright spot in the day’s events was, of course, my interesting encounter with the Kalmucks.
I had never been to East-Prussia before, so I was looking forward to seeing a new part of Germany. Like the whole of northern Germany, East-Prussia had a very flat landscape, most of which was not much above sea-level. There was a widespread system of lakes in the northern part and there were only two hilly areas, both small, in the south-west. East-Prussia was one of the main corn-growing areas in Germany, where many wealthy farmers had lived and worked for generations. Although I prefer hilly, wooded countryside, I was very impressed by the lush and well-cared for farmlands that I saw everywhere.
Our journey to the northern part of East-Prussia was about 300 miles, so dawn had already broken by the time we got there. When our train reached the East-Prussian town of Tilsit we quickly disembarked. My division was stationed in the Russ/Kuckernese area of the Memelland province, quite close to the Baltic Sea.
Since it was now broad daylight we dug in our guns with all haste and soon we were ready for action. By this time I had mentally absorbed details and landmarks of the local terrain. This quick familiarisation with the surroundings was an essential on-going exercise which was carried out automatically at all times. The ability to immediately relate Russian troop movements to all aspects of the terrain depended on having stored such information sub-consciously. Such knowledge was also invaluable if one had to find one’s way at night-time.
The morning passed with nothing to disturb the tranquillity apart from the distant noise of battle. With just over two months of service behind me I had, so far, acquired quite a degree of self-confidence. Nevertheless, my new environment in quite a different section of the Front made me feel a bit like a “new boy.”
Early in the afternoon the order was given for us to “fall in” for a briefing by our CO. (Commanding Officer). Under the circumstances there was nothing unusual about this. Although I had no reason for any apprehension, my sixth sense told me that this was something ominous and that it was to concern me personally.
After we had lined-up, Lt Trapp told us that a new major offensive by the Russian forces was expected. However, there was a snag. German intelligence sources had failed to get reliable information on when and where the attack was to be launched and what was the strength of the Russian units involved. In order to impede the Russians in their advance, it had become necessary to have special task forces set up. In that moment I knew what my fate was to be and that this was where my good luck had finally run out.
It was the practice in the German army that where details of an impending attack by the Russian army were not known, or where details were known, but the German lines were weak, special units were established. Their job was to hold up the attack long enough to give the German units maximum time to re-group for optimum effectiveness. These task-forces were almost invariably deployed in “no man’s land,” that is they were placed well ahead of the German lines of defence, but still some distance from the Russian lines. This was somewhat on the principle which the Greeks had applied in the Pass of Thermopylae. The positions occupied by the task-forces were selected so that, as resistance pockets, they were difficult to wipe out while, at the same time, they could effectively hinder the attackers in the speed of their advance. Members of these task forces had no hope of staying alive, because there was no way back to their own lines. The Russians took no prisoners when they had to keep advancing and it was a case of just firing to the end and keeping the last bullet for oneself.
Having given some more details on the general situation, Lt Trapp went on to say, “Each unit-commander in this section of the front has been instructed to contribute two men towards setting up these task-forces and I will now give the names of the men I have selected.” At this point I experienced a feeling of indifference since, to me, it was blatantly obvious what was to come and I just wanted him to get on with it. It may seem hard to believe that I could have felt indifferent about being “sentenced to death,” but that was exactly how I reacted.
“The first man I have selected” went on Lt Trapp, “is Gefreiter Offenheim. My second selection is….” and here there was a pause in which I thought I could sense him savouring the satisfaction his announcement must be giving him “….Kanonier Stieber.” Then a most peculiar thing happened. Although there was no obligation on the lieutenant to add anything; he was quite within his rights to select anybody he chose, he turned to me and addressed me for the first time in two days. Speaking in a calm and, incredibly, almost friendly voice he said, “This is a very important assignment, Stieber. We need good men on it.”
One could have knocked me down with a feather. What was this latest inexplicable trait in Lt Trapp’s behaviour? It was a well-known fact that commanding officers invariably selected their least accomplished men, or troublemakers, to go on these task-forces. No skill, much beyond the ability to pull a trigger, was required and men of good proficiency would be wasted there. Actually, it was quite valid to pick the youngest, and thus most inexperienced, man and so I would have been a legitimate choice. But where was the rationale in this sudden, and unexpected, praise? I thought this was pure hypocrisy, but I was puzzled as to why the lieutenant had made the statement at all.
Was he pricked by his conscience into making some obscure apology for his decision, or was he telling me that if I thought that I was all that good a soldier, here was my chance to prove it? Those were the thoughts that crossed my mind at the time, but I still felt baffled by a personality which I could not understand. Having made his pronouncement, Lt Trapp said that Offenheim and I would be picked up by truck that night and brought to our new position. Well, the dice had been cast and I was now up against what must have been the toughest test of my mental fortitude that I had ever experienced. How was I going to cope in a situation where I knew that nothing could save me?
After the order was given to “fall out,” Offenheim and I packed our kit and spent the next few hours having a last chat with our mates. When the truck arrived that evening, Offenheim and I reported to Lt Trapp who wished us good luck and hurriedly dismissed us. I was quite happy to have Offenheim as my fellow-sufferer in adversity. He had a pleasant personality and seemed to be well-balanced, the sort of person who would not be a problem in a desperate situation. Since it was known that nobody ever returned from a suicide-mission, the psychological pressures on us all would be very great and I knew nothing at all about the other soldiers in my new unit.
The drive to our position took about half an hour and we arrived as night was falling. The many advantages of this new position, for what that was worth, became quickly apparent. First of all, it was ready for occupation and so we would not have to spend the night, and maybe further nights, digging trenches and providing protection from enemy-fire. Secondly, although our unit was comprised of only thirty men, the position had been designed for three to four times that number and it consisted of an extensive labyrinth of interconnecting trenches and of generous underground accommodation, a veritable Hotel Ritz. Some well-protected machine-gun stations were also provided, so it wanted for nothing. To the west of the position there was a small wood, about six acres in size, quite close to us. Other conscripts to our task-force arrived much later that evening, so it was not till the morning that we got our first formal briefing by our new commander, Lt Breding.