“I’m not a politician, Hauptsturmführer, but it seems to me like von Ribbentrop blundered… Maybe too much wine in his cellar?”
As usual, Wohl had overstepped the mark with his oblique reference to the Reichsminister’s days as a wine salesman and von Schroif was quick to snuff out any suggestion of dissent. “That’s enough, Wohl. It is not our place to question the workings of the party.” Despite the sharpness of his tone, von Schroif was content to let the remark pass as he continued to ruminate with Junge on the painful events which had occurred nearby. “You know it is what I learned after the battle that still irks me. Initially at least, the Poles did not even plan to defend the damned fortress. It’s also ironic that we should have even been in the vicinity of Brest-Litovsk.”
“May I enquire as to the reason?” asked the chastened Wohl.
“You may, Wohl. We now know that, as the storm clouds of war were gathering around us, in a brilliant piece of diplomacy an understanding was reached by von Ribbentrop and Molotov. The result was that Poland was covertly carved up between us and the Reds. It was agreed that our attack from the west would be matched by a Soviet advance from the east, which would neatly slice up Poland between us. The region of Brest-Litovsk was assigned to what was to be the Soviet ‘sphere of interest’. However, our rapid advance was not matched by the expected attack by the Soviets, who did not begin their own invasion of Poland until later.”
“Once we had done all the hard work!” interjected Junge.
“As you say, SS-Kannonier Junge,” continued von Schroif, “and in the continuing absence of the Reds, Guderian decided there was a need to secure the fortress. Today, Brest-Litovsk is the frontline formed by the partition of Poland, but at the beginning of the surprise attack in ’39 the fortress was actually located deep behind the Polish frontlines. Our intelligence had reported it to be a supply depot and organisation centre rather than a defensible fortress. However, no one had allowed for the genius of General Heinz Guderian. Under his guidance we won the swift victories at Wizna and Mława and broke through Polish lines and sped southward with the aim of flanking Warsaw from the East and cutting Poland in two. This swift attack is now known to a trembling world as Lightning War; it’s a devastating military operational doctrine, which was developed by Guderian between the World Wars. For us participants it was a thrilling experience. The situation changed dramatically when we reached Brest-Litovsk.”
“Did you see the General in action?” asked Wohl.
“For sure we did,” replied von Schroif. “The armoured cars had been pushed to the limits. As the last few drops rattled around in the tanks I finally had to order a stop near the Muchawiec river bridge. No sooner had we halted when a staff car roared up and a General bellowed across, ‘What is the reason for this delay? You must push on!’ I could only reply with something along the lines of ‘We must have fuel, our tanks are dry…’ He shouted back at me ‘Do I have to take care of everything?’ and three fuel cans were immediately produced. While Junge here filled the tank I was summoned into the presence of Guderian. He wasted no time and got straight to the point. His grasp of detail was impressive. I still recall his every word.
“‘We need to seize the fortress in order to prevent elements of the Narew Operational Group from retreating southwards and re-joining the rest of the Polish forces,’ he said. ‘We understand the fortress is currently housing the battalions of the Polish 82nd and 35th infantry regiments and elements of various smaller units. If you move fast, all you will be faced with will be the rear-echelon units of an infantry regiment◦— all the tabors, field kitchen staff, reserve soldiers, military police, commander’s reserves, guards, aides, and raw recruits who did not arrive at the mobilization centre before the unit to which they were attached left for the front.’
“But you must be aware that a large number of newly mobilised reservists had also started to arrive at the fortress, awaiting forward deployment to their units. General Guderian was obviously not aware of it at the time, but from these units, the Polish General Plisowski had somehow managed to organized a force of roughly three infantry battalions, aided by an engineering battalion, several batteries of artillery and two companies equipped with the old French FT tanks. As we were about to discover, there was also somewhat unorthodox assistance available in the form of two armoured trains.”
“So what is it like to fight a train?” asked Wohl in amazement.
“Frightening!” Junge interjected. “We had no sooner noticed this strange train in the distance than we immediately started to receive some really big calibre shells. Powerful stuff. That was where Oehler and his crew bought it. Direct hit from a high-calibre shell. The car just blew apart.”
“Yes, the train was certainly a strange adversary,” continued von Schroif, “because it also carried a platoon of five scout tanks. You know, the old French FT type. They left the train and attacked our armoured cars. That’s where we lost Biermann, but they hadn’t reckoned with our SS-Hauptscharführer Knispel. After losing three tanks to the cannon in those expert hands the other two wisely withdrew. Fortunately for us, the Poles have no sense of cohesion. We then had to endure a further attack by an assault platoon from the train, but without the tanks that also failed, but only after the loss of more brave comrades. It was then that we learned that the armour on the Sd.Kfz. 232 can just about stop a bullet, but nothing else. So never overlook the humble anti-tank rifle, Wohl! Anyway, after a combined attack of the assault platoon and the heavy artillery from the train, it looked as if we would be forced to leave the area of the Muchawiec Bridge, but by then General Guderian had pushed the 5th Tank Regiment forward. The train withdrew towards Brest town and the train station was left in our hands. That was the last we saw of the armoured trains, and thank God for that too!”
“So, did the fortress surrender?” asked Wohl, now wrapped up in the tale.
“Sadly, no. We reached the area of Brest and attempted to capture the fortress on the bounce. We lacked infantry and heavy weapons so the probe attack was easily repelled by Polish infantry and a company of those funny little FT tanks. With Knispel on form, all the Polish tanks which dared show themselves were destroyed, but we were still forced to retreat towards the part of town we controlled.
“Later that day the artillery arrived at last and they started the bombardment of both the fortress and the town. Heavy street-fighting broke out again. Our forces were soon mixed up with the Poles, so no one really knew what was happening. The little ammunition we had soon ran out, so we fought through the night from house to house until dawn with grenades, rifle butts and daggers. By dawn approximately half of the town was in German hands, the other half was still being defended by Polish infantry. They could have held on but on the following day Polish defenders had taken such a beating that they withdrew from the town.
“Our heavy casualties prevented us from continuing the attacks on the fortress. Instead, it was constantly shelled with artillery and even bombed by the Luftwaffe. It was all hell and fury, but it was little use to us as the forts are built over a series of caverns and tunnels. In its ruined state, this place affords countless positions for snipers. On the surface, bombing just creates rubble and the Poles were able to take advantage of innumerable hiding places.