Beria's presence was sometimes quite unbearable: he seemed to understand what Stalin was going through.
This weakness didn't last long – just a few days, to return only at odd moments. But his feeling of depression was constant. He was troubled by indigestion. He had an aching feeling at the back of his neck and there were moments when he felt dizzy.
He looked at the telephone again. By now Yeremenko should have reported that the tanks had gone into the attack.
This was his hour of strength. What was being decided now, what was at stake, was the fate of the State Lenin had founded: now the rational, centralized force of the Party would be able to realize itself in the construction of huge factories, atomic power stations, jetplanes, intercontinental missiles, space rockets, immense buildings and palaces of culture, new canals and seas, new roads and cities north of the Arctic Circle.
What was at stake was the fate of France, Belgium, Italy and the countries Hitler had occupied in Scandinavia and the Balkans. It was now that the death sentence was passed on Auschwitz, Buchenwald and the nine hundred other German labour camps and concentration camps.
What was at stake was the fate of the German prisoners-of-war who were to be sent to Siberia; what was at stake was the fate of the Soviet prisoners-of-war in Hitler's camps who were also to be sent to Siberia.
What was at stake was the fate of the Kalmyks and Crimean Tartars, the Balkars and Chechens who were to be deported to Siberia and Kazakhstan, who were to lose the right to remember their history or teach their own children to speak their mother-tongue.
What was at stake was the fate of the actors Mikhoels and Zuskin, the writers Bergelson, Markish, Fefer, Kvitko and Nusinov, whose execution was to precede the sinister trial of Professor Vovsi and the Jewish doctors. What was at stake was the fate of the Jews saved by the Red Army: on the tenth anniversary of this victory Stalin was to raise over their heads the very sword of annihilation he had wrested from the hands of Hitler.
What was at stake was the fate of Poland, Hungary, Czechoslovakia and Rumania.
What was at stake was the fate of the Russian peasants and workers, the freedom of Russian thought, literature and science.
Stalin was moved. At this moment the future power of the State had merged with his will.
His greatness and genius did not exist independently of the greatness of the State and the armed forces. Only if the State was victorious would his scientific and philosophical works remain an object of study and admiration for millions of people.
He was connected to Yeremenko.
'What's up then?' said Stalin abruptly. 'Have the tanks gone in yet?'
Sensing the irritation in Stalin's voice, Yeremenko quickly put out his cigarette.
'No, comrade Stalin. Tolbukhin 's just finishing the softening-up barrage. The infantry have cleaned up the front line, but the tanks haven't yet entered the breach.'
Stalin cursed loudly and put down the receiver. Yeremenko relit his cigarette and telephoned the commander of the 51st Army.
'Why haven't the tanks gone in yet?'
Holding the receiver in one hand, Tolbukhin was mopping the sweat from his chest with the other. His jacket was unbuttoned; under the open collar of his immaculately white shirt you could see the heavy folds of fat at the base of his neck. A little short of breath, he answered with the unhurried calm of an overweight man who understands in every cell of his body that too much exertion is bad for him.
'The commander of the tank corps has just reported to me: there are enemy batteries on his path that are still operational. He asked for a few minutes' delay to neutralize them with artillery fire.'
'Send the tanks in at once,' said Yeremenko curtly. 'And report back in three minutes.'
'Yes, comrade Colonel-General.'
Yeremenko wanted to curse Tolbukhin. Instead, he asked suddenly:
'How come you're breathing so heavily? Is something the matter with you?'
'No, no. I'm fine, Andrey Ivanovich. I've only just had breakfast.'
'Get on with it then,' said Yeremenko and put down the receiver. 'He's just had breakfast – he's out of breath. I ask you!' He launched into a volley of expressive and imaginative curses.
The phone rang at the observation post. You could barely hear it over the artillery fire. Novikov knew it was the army commander and that he would order him to send in his tanks at once.
He heard Tolbukhin through, thought, 'Just as I guessed,' and said: 'Yes, comrade Lieutenant-General. Immediately.'
Then he smiled in the direction of Getmanov. 'All the same, we do just need another four minutes.'
Three minutes later, Tolbukhin phoned again. Now he was no longer gasping for breath.
'Is this a joke, comrade Colonel? Why is it I can still hear artillery fire? Carry out my orders at once!'
Novikov ordered his telephonist to connect him to Lopatin, the commander of the artillery regiment. He heard Lopatin's voice, but remained silent himself; watching the second-hand of his watch, he waited for the four minutes to elapse.
'What a man!' exclaimed Getmanov with unfeigned admiration.
A minute later, when the artillery fire had died down, Novikov put on his headphones and called the commander of the leading brigade.
'Byelov?'
'Yes, comrade Corps Commander.'
Twisting his mouth into a furious, drunken cry, Novikov screamed:
'Byelov! Attack!'
The mist thickened with blue smoke. The air was alive with the rumble of motors as the tank corps entered the breach in the enemy front.
11
The aims of the Russian offensive became evident to the German commanders when, at dawn on zo November, the artillery opened fire in the Kalmyk steppe and the shock units disposed to the south of Stalingrad attacked the 4th Rumanian Army on Paulus's right flank.
The tank corps on the extreme left of the Soviet grouping entered the breach in the front between Lakes Tsatsa and Barmantsak, turned to the north-west, and advanced towards Kalach where it was to link up with the tank and cavalry corps from the Don and South-Western Fronts.
On the afternoon of 20 November, the Soviet units advancing from Serafimovich reached a point slightly to the north of Surovikino, threatening Paulus's lines of communication.
Paulus's 6th Army was, however, still unaware that it was threatened with encirclement. At six o'clock that evening Paulus's headquarters informed Baron von Weichs, the commanding officer of Army Group B, that they were intending to continue reconnaissance activities in Stalingrad on the following day.
Later that evening Paulus received an order from von Weichs to break off offensive operations in Stalingrad. He was to concentrate tank units, infantry units and anti-tank weapons along his left flank, disposing them in depth in order to withstand an attack from the north-west.
This order, received by Paulus at 9.00 p.m., marked the end of the German offensive in Stalingrad. It was, however, rendered meaningless by the speed of events.
On 21 November the Soviet units advancing from Serafimovich and Kletskaya effected a ninety-degree turn, joined together, and moved towards the Don to the north of Kalach, directly in Paulus's rear.
That same day, forty Soviet tanks appeared on the high west bank of the Don, only a few kilometres from Paulus's command-post at Golubinskaya. Another group of tanks seized a bridge over the Don without firing a shot: the German defenders mistook them for a training detachment equipped with captured Soviet tanks that often used this bridge. Soviet tanks then entered Kalach itself. And so the first lines of the encirclement of the two German armies in Stalingrad, Paulus's 6th Army and Hoth's 4th Tank Army, were sketched in. One of Paulus's finest units, the 384th Infantry Division, was disposed to the north-west to defend Paulus's rear.