Van Hogen and I came to a copse that was full of German soldiers and civilians. In front of us was Halbe railway station, which was occupied by the Russians, who were firing at our copse with machine guns and mortars. The cries of the wounded and dying were coming from all around, and something had to be done as quickly as possible. While van Hogen went back to fetch our men, I gathered some officers and NCOs around me, explained the situation and told them that I was taking command and that, as soon as my men arrived, we would break through. Whoever wanted to could join us.
We waited for van Hogen and the rest of the Supply Company in vain. Instead we heard the sounds of fighting coming from their direction. Now 9th Army’s general break-out appeared to be in full swing. We could not wait any longer, so I charged the red-brick buildings of the station shouting: ‘Forward, grenadiers, forward!’
Some 300 followed me, soldiers and civilians, including women and children. Our fearful cries and firing hit the Russians like an apocalypse, and they fled from the station buildings. We charged right across the railway embankment and reached a copse on the far side. Those who fell, or were wounded, were left behind.
We came to a sunken track that was about two metres deep and two hundred metres long. The whole wood was under constant fire from the Russian artillery and mortars. There were dead and wounded lying everywhere, soldiers and civilians. My mob scattered here, with individuals and small groups all heading west. Cohesion had collapsed, the mass refusing to be led any longer. All discipline had disappeared.[21]
SS-Colonel Kempin reported that many officers and NCOs had removed the epaulettes bearing their rank insignia in rejection of any further disciplinary responsibility.[22]
The progress of the southern wedge was described in some detail by Rudi Lindner, then an officer cadet with the 1241st Grenadier Regiment, which by then had been reduced to company strength:
We paraded with the 9th Army’s southern armoured spearhead, which consisted of 14 Tiger tanks, assault guns, APCs and motor vehicles, arranged as follows:
• The vanguard, consisting of 2nd Company, 502nd SS Heavy Panzer Battalion;
• The remains of 1241st Grenadier Regiment as close infantry escort for the tanks;
• Part of an APC company of the Kurmark;
• The Reconnaissance and Pioneer Platoon of the 502nd;
• 1st Company, 502nd, with the battalion commander and signals officers, and a mortar battery;
• The remainder of the 502nd with a self-propelled four-barrelled anti-aircraft gun, motorcycles, ambulance and medical officer.
This day, 28 April, which began so calmly as we were detailed off as tank escorts to the armoured columns, and ended so tragically, will always remain in my memory. We did not know then that we were preparing for a journey into hell and that for most of us it would be our death. Our platoon, now made up of one officer and 15 grenadiers, was assigned to the leading Tiger tanks of the spearhead, whose platoon commander was SS-Second Lieutenant Kuhnke.
I found myself on the second tank, commanded by SS-Sergeant-Major Ernst Streng, and with SS-Sergeant Ott as the driver. We fastened ourselves on to the tank mountings with our belts and equipment straps, so that we would have our hands free for firing our rifles and Panzerfausts, and for throwing grenades.
At about 1800 hours on 28 April, the heavy weapons fired a barrage on Halbe, after which the guns were blown up. Then at about 1830 hours our armoured column moved out of the assembly area towards Märkisch Buchholz and Halbe. We thrust through Märkisch Buchholz without encountering any significant resistance, then moved along a woodland track towards Halbe. The northern armoured spearhead of the Panzergrenadier Division Kurmark was also rolling along another woodland track towards Halbe. Short halts for observation and reconnaissance delayed our advance.
A Russian anti-tank barrier in front of Halbe caused the first big delay. A mortar battery went into action and fired a salvo on the resistance nests on the eastern edge of Halbe, while our leading tank platoon engaged the barrier. The Russian security forces then pulled back into Halbe village. Our armoured vanguard was then ordered to push on into Halbe, and our Tiger tanks set off again. We drove into the village south of the railway station, reaching a straight street lined with trees, where the back gardens of the first houses lay.
We thought that here, too, we would encounter only minor resistance, but with a blast all hell broke loose. We had driven into an ambush.
At this point I should mention that following us in the woods to the right and left of our armoured column, if a little further back, was a stream of soldiers and refugees, who kept closing up to us whenever we stopped. In their fear of losing contact and becoming prisoners of the Russians, but also because of non-existent or insufficient combat experience, most of the soldiers were conducting themselves in a totally unmilitary fashion, so that unfortunately very many of them had to pay with their lives for it. For instance, behind each tank in Halbe there was a cluster of some forty to sixty people seeking shelter, and every time we stopped the numbers increased. In addition, many soldiers were unarmed, and most of the soldiers who were armed did not or were unable to use their weapons. In practice, only the leading tank could fire forward, while we grenadiers sitting on top fired obliquely into the roofs and windows.
It was now about 2000 hours as we drove into Halbe and another anti-tank barrier appeared before us, but this time open. The leading tank had got to within about seventy metres when it fired a shot to clear the way, drove on and stopped about thirty metres from the barrier.
Suddenly the inferno broke out with concentrated anti-tank-gun fire coming from ahead, artillery and mortar fire from above, and rifle fire from the roofs and windows of the houses right and left of the street. The artillery fire, with explosive shrapnel and phosphorous shells, and the mortar bombs, caused especially frightful casualties among the numerous, exposed and crammed together groups of people. The street was immediately filled with dead and wounded. Panic, confusion and deadly fear could be seen in the faces of the living, as cries for help came from the wounded and dying.
Our leading tank received a direct hit and started burning. Our second tank tried to turn, got stuck and was hit by a phosphorous shell, and also caught fire. The phosphorous shells burst with glowing white splashes on the tank, and there was phosphor everywhere on our steel helmets and tent-halves. Stinking smoke erupted as the tank began to burn. The crew bailed out and we also jumped off and ran to the third tank. (I later learnt that the crew managed to put the fire out and get the tank going again.)[23]
SS-Sergeant-Major Ernst Streng, the commander of the second tank (No. 223) on which Lindner was riding, also gave his account of this action:
We asked for an infantry storm troop. We were standing thirty metres from the anti-tank barrier and could neither turn nor shoot in the narrow space within this tree-lined street. Only the lead tank could fire. A bitter fight had broken out on a narrow frontage from house to house, yard to yard, and ditch to ditch. The street was choked with dead and wounded, and trucks loaded with wounded were wedged between the tanks. The houses began to burn, flaming red flickered over the roofs and from the windows, loud explosions came through the darkness. The Russian defensive fire increased by the minute, especially the dreadful mortar fire. Wild screams of pain came from the wounded calling for help from the mowed-down ranks covering the road surface and pavements.