Taking the violin from its case, Wendorff applied rosin to the bow and expertly tuned the strings. His heart almost broke into pieces when the young boy began to sing the opening notes of the slow movement. Wendorff was immediately struck by the tone and sweetness of his voice. Who knows, when he matures he could perhaps sing baritone? What a voice! He threw himself into the piece. Not physically, but emotionally, drawing out its aching core. Nurse Wendorff began to weep, borders dissolved, and the power of music conquered all.
On finishing, Karl Wendorff felt shattered. The quiet applause and murmurs of approval only added to his pain. The music had posed a question. How, in a world where music could talk to any man, all men, could men still turn on each other like animals?
“That was beautiful, bandsman. I don’t even know your name,” said the young nurse.
“It’s, err…” Wendorff was now in a blind funk. He could no longer remember his cover story. He knew he was a bandsman sent to augment the garrison orchestra, but his false name eluded him. “…Oistrakh, Ivan Oistrakh,” he blurted, grasping at the first name that came to mind.
“That’s wonderful,” said Bettina, “are you related to the maestro?”
“No… No,” said Wendorff, panicking inside. “It’s just coincidence.”
Dimitri Korsak considered whether to utilise the staff car for his return trip to Kobrin but then thought better of it. Instead, he utilised the network of tunnels that ran under the fortress. The intermediate trips across open ground proved eventful, with bullets flying from both sides and constant shellfire adding spice to the adventure. He eventually arrived at the Kobrin fortification and found Major Gavrilov.
“Commissar Korsak, armoured warfare specialist, reporting for duty,” said the breathless Korsak. “I bring greetings from Commissar Fomin.”
“Glad to have you here, Comrade Korsak,” said Gavrilov. “You are just in time. I fear we will soon need your expertise. We anticipate attack by enemy armour. I’m in the process of forming tank-hunting teams. I was about to brief the men. Now that you are here, you can give the men the benefit of your experience.”
“Of course, comrade,” said Korsak. He immediately stepped forward to address the small group of assorted cooks, orderlies and store-men who formed the small group of tank-hunters.
“Comrades, I have just come from the Cholmsker gate and I can inform you that anti-tank guns of the 98th Antitank Regiment have survived the bombardment and are on their way to us, so take heart from that, but in the meantime there is a great deal that we can accomplish with the weapons at our disposal.” Despite their lack of knowledge or training Korsak was delighted to see that the men looked determined to do their duty. “We are likely to be fighting at very close range and that works to our advantage. Improvised firebombs will also work, so we should commence filling bottles with petrol and making sure we have rags to create the wicks.”
Nodding heads and the faintest flicker of a smile from the most enthusiastic recruit confirmed that the men were paying attention. Korsak continued with his briefing.
“Humble weapons like the anti-tank rifle are highly effective at close range. In conducting fire against enemy tanks and other fighting vehicles, it is vital to observe the results of hits carefully, and to continue to fire until we see definite signs of a hit. A burning tank is the most obvious sign, but also be alert for signs of the crew leaving the tank, and the shattering of the armour or the turret. Watch enemy tanks which have halted but do not show any of these signs constantly, even though they show no other signs of life. While firing at the active tanks of the enemy, one should be in full readiness to renew the battle against those that are apparently knocked out.”
The grim yet positive expressions on the faces of his audience indicated that they were following his every word and Korsak was able to move on with the briefing.
“In the current action, our comrades at the Terespol fortification have already been faced with a new type of fighting vehicle, the armoured assault gun which the Germans call the Sturmgeschütz. You will also hear it called by its contraction, the StuG. For determined tank-hunting teams there is very little to fear when encountering this vehicle. It is built on the chassis of the enemy’s Panzer III tank, but without the benefit of either a turret or a machine gun. It has a reduced crew of four which means that the men inside have more to do and less time to concentrate on our tank-hunting teams. You could not have asked for a better introduction, comrades. This will be like a beginner’s training course. Your grandmothers could defeat these machines!”
Smiles and faint laughter greeted this last statement as Korsak carried his audience with him.
“Now, if you find yourself pitted against the selfpropelled assault gun, advancing towards you from the front, you should direct your fire at the driver’s port, and below the tube of the gun. However, if possible, you should try to attack from the side, particularly against the armour protecting the engine. And remember, the roof is particularly weak. The attack from behind is best of all, the vehicle is blind and particularly vulnerable to attacks against the exhaust vent.”
Korsak’s words were timely. Within the hour, and for the third time that morning, the dwindling ranks of the StuG battalion rolled into combat once more. Only ten machines now remained in action, but they still presented a menacing array of firepower that the beleaguered defenders could not hope to match. Hoping to take the defenders by surprise this time, at Schlieper’s command the objective had been switched to the eastern Kobrin fortification set in the parkland of the northernmost island.
The assault guns made a wide circuit to the north then curved round to attack from the east, which, it was hoped, would be an unexpected direction. Although they were unaware of the fact, the reality of the situation was that the battalion commanded by von Schroif was once more about to be pitched into action against the men of the 98th Independent Anti-Tank Artillery Battalion, who came rushing up just as the guns were being readied for their renewed assault. The anti-tank gunners had already been rewarded that morning with the sight of two of the guns burning after having been hit by their anti-tank shells, and two other burned-out carcasses were now obstructing the possibility of further advance towards the Terespol gate.
The loss of one of their precious anti-tank guns to accurate fire from the lead StuG had not disheartened the anti-tank gunners. They felt they were winning the personal struggle between the StuGs and the antitank battalion. With only one prime mover remaining in action, they had not been downhearted, and had manfully dragged their guns through the maelstrom of explosions, ready for the next encounter.
As von Schroif and his battalion deployed at the Kobrin fortification, the initial signs were more auspicious.
“There is no evidence of any anti-tank presence,” reported the lieutenant in charge of the assault detachment. “We have carried out a reconnaissance in force up to the edge of the fortification, as ordered.”
There was no question that the lieutenant’s words were true regarding the situation just twenty minutes previously. However, in the intervening period, and in the very nick of time, the anti-tank guns of the 98th Independent Anti-tank Artillery Battalion were rushed in to take up defensive positions. Exhausted by their alarming journey through the war-torn fortress, the worn-out Soviet gunners had just about enough energy to deploy the extra guns on the eastern- facing earthworks. Lieutenant Ivan Akimochkin, the battalion’s chief of staff, and Senior Political Instructor Nikolai Nesterchuk took charge of the defence.