I must say I felt happy that my shot had been the one with less spectacular results. Despite knowing what Russian soldiers had done to German refugees, I thought that the tank crew could have been just as unwilling conscripts in the war as I was and I felt glad to have put the tank out of action without killing or maiming its occupants.
13
WINTER ON THE RUSSIAN FRONT
Over the next eleven weeks, from 1 November, 1944, to 20 January, 1945, there was only a small change in the territory held by German and Russian armies in the central and northern sections of the Eastern Front.
Weeks of gruelling action had left German and Russian troops physically exhausted. Abandoning further attempts to attack the German lines, the Russians began a massive operation bringing forward supplies of armaments, equipment and food to bolster up their forces prior to their next major thrust forward.
All units of my division became engaged in developing and improving the lines of defence, while constructing sound shelters against the coming winter. The infantry dug an elaborate system of trenches, which were manned on a continuous basis and in some places were separated by a distance of only forty-five to fifty yards from the Russian trenches.
A standing order was issued that, in principle, vehicles of all descriptions should be well dug in so that they would be protected against direct hits and shrapnel. This made for an extremely tiring, but worthwhile, chore. The staff of regimental and battalion headquarters were housed in cellars of abandoned farms; sometimes ruined outbuildings provided excellent camouflage for vehicles temporarily parked there.
We now dug small communal shelters, one for each of our gun-crews, instead of each soldier digging his own. Although these were still only glorified “holes in the ground,” they provided a place where one could sit and have a bit of room for moving around. The air was less fresh, but it was warmer from the presence of many men than it had been in our individual shelters. Despite the “pong,” I was glad to be able to face the cold nights in warmer accommodation since I had no idea what it might be like sleeping in one-man shelters when the icy blast of winter hit us.
I do not remember topics of conversation, but there was quite a cosy atmosphere and we had a paraffin lamp by which we could read or play cards fairly comfortably. I cannot say that I missed a more personal contact with my mates. By nature I have always been a self-sufficient person and, if being reserved about oneself was the norm in the army, that was alright with me.
Our position was in undulating terrain with small hillocks, which gave us some good look-out positions, but in other places it favoured the Russians, so each side was able to keep a good watch on the others’ lines. Our guns were located on a hillock named “Height 102”, which gave us a good view over a distance of about a mile. Life was not so easy for our infantry in the forward trenches close to the Russians and they even had problems getting supplied with food. The Russians fired at men carrying food to the trenches and went as far as to use flares at night-time to continue their shooting when the ferrying of food was switched to the cover of darkness.
Il-2 planes still kept up their sorties, but I do not recall being in any action specially worth recording during that period. Russian snipers remained active and other Russian fire seemed to be intended more for its nuisance value than to have any specific military objective.
Another bit of psychological warfare that the Russians engaged in was their practice of sending an Il-2 fighter-bomber over our lines every night. The plane would circle monotonously, keeping soldiers awake. Some nights it dropped a few bombs and on other nights it did not. Instead, the next morning we would see the area littered with thousands of propaganda leaflets. All of them carried incitements in German to desert. Many had a cajoling text offering all sorts of good times to anybody who surrendered; others threatened that soldiers who fought on would be sentenced to twenty years of hard labour when they were taken prisoner.
Sometimes the Russians spread their propaganda by way of loudspeakers turned up to maximum volume. At other times they broadcast music which was suddenly interrupted by an announcement that we would now hear the “Stalin Organ;” only seconds later we would hear it. “Stalin Organ” was the nick-name for the “Katjuscha,” a multi-barrelled shell launcher which could despatch forty-eight projectiles within seconds. Although very inaccurate, the sheer number of shells and the frightful, howling noise of the launcher could have a considerable psychological effect on troops.
Fully aware that it would be only a matter of time before the Russians began a massive offensive, the German Army made a special effort to look after the creature comforts of the soldiers. Warm winter clothing was distributed in good time and I remember remarking on the excellence of the winter boots with their thick felt shafts. Not only were they wonderfully warm, but they were softer and extremely comfortable; quite different from the standard jack-boots we had been wearing.
Special efforts were also made to improve the quality of our food; the cooks of the field kitchens were sent on courses at corps headquarters to learn new methods of preparing meals and giving us more variety. Staff-officers were detailed to accompany food carriers to the trenches so that they could have contact with ordinary soldiers and get first-hand impressions of any deficiencies.
Ever since the Eastern Front had stabilised, a steady trickle of refugees began to return to their homes. Although there had been an almost hundred per cent exodus, most of those who survived the Russian advance did not flee further than the western parts of East-Prussia. Anxious about the state of their homes and the livestock they had left behind, they began to arrive on bicycles or on army trucks which had given them a lift. Although their presence could hamper the activities of our units, and they often lacked food and other bare essentials, every effort was made by army personnel to help them in their need.
Up to the end of November the weather had been very cold, but over the weeks temperatures dropped well below freezing point. A blanket of snow settled on the countryside and made the landscape look beautiful in sunshine, but bleak and depressing when the light was gone. How lucky I was to be in my communal shelter where the cold was nothing compared to the conditions the poor devils in the trenches now had to contend with.
During daytime I was able to keep my circulation going by pacing around in the open and out of sight of any Russians. The only problem was keeping my nose from freezing up, but the smarting of my eyes from cutting winds often became quite painful. I was issued with a “head protector”, a sort of woollen muff which was pulled over the head to cover ears and the lower half of the face. However, it got damp on the inside from my condensing breath and every now and then I used to pull it down over my chin to get a few unrestricted lungfuls of air. Of course, in time the outside of the protector began to freeze over and the whole arrangement got to be irritatingly uncomfortable, so I always tried to keep going as long as possible without covering my face.
The worst conditions of cold I ever suffered were on the self-propelled gun itself. Even sleeping out in deepest winter, which I often had to, was nothing compared to this. Looking through military records I discovered that the lowest temperatures with which I would have had to cope reached minus twenty-five to thirty degrees centigrade in January 1945. I had to take my position on the gun with hardly any room for moving about. There was no effective way to keep my circulation going and I suffered sheer agony. As if this was not bad enough, the steel studs in my boots took up the arctic temperature from the steel plating on the gun-carrier. The nail part of the studs acted as perfect transmitters of cold to within millimetres of the inside surface of the boots. In no time my feet felt like two lumps of ice.