Chapter 4
Battle Comrades
By Army-General Stanislav Poplavski
Born in the Ukraine of Polish parents, Poplavski was conscripted into the Soviet Army in 1923 and promoted sergeant upon completion of basic training a year later. He later graduated in the top ten from the Military School for Red Cadres, where he remained as a major and instructor in general tactics and the Polish language. In mid-1940 he was posted as chief of staff to the 720th Regiment.
When the Germans attacked and his regimental commander was wounded, Poplavski took over the command and was later awarded the Order of the Red Banner before being posted as chief of staff to the newly raised 363rd Rifle Division; shortly afterwards he was promoted lieutenant-colonel. In January 1943 Poplavski was appointed commander of the 185th Rifle Division of the 29th Army, six months later becoming commander of the 45th Rifle Corps. In October 1943 he watched the newly raised Polish Kosciuszko Division going into action for the first time near Lenino. At the end of August 1944 he was summoned to Moscow and transferred to the Polish Army.
The Polish Army raised by the Soviets consisted in fact almost entirely of Soviet citizens except for those young Poles who had reached military age during the war.
Poplavski continued to serve with the Polish Army until his retirement in 1956, when he returned to Moscow, as did several of his compatriots who had served in the Polish Army while retaining Soviet citizenship.
On the afternoon of the 5th April I was summoned to the telephone. I was still thinking about the tactical exercises that I had been going through with the 3rd Division, from which I had just returned to Greifenberg [Pomerania].
I recognised the well-known voice of Colonel-General Malinin. ‘What is your army doing?’ As I knew that headquarters did not like long accounts, I replied briefly. Malinin listened to me and then posed the question: ‘And what do your soldiers think about Berlin?’ I got up from my chair. ‘All our soldiers and officers are waiting impatiently for the order to attack Berlin!’
This impatience, which was also apparent from my voice, seemed to impress the Front chief of staff. Jokingly he remarked: ‘And I thought that you enjoyed doing coastal defence.’ Then in a serious tone he went on: ‘Orders are on their way to you. From them you will see your next task.’
I immediately summoned my staff officers and our new chief of staff, Rotkievicz. They came apprehensively, not realising that I was hiding my overwhelming delight. Eventually I said solemnly: ‘Friends, I have invited you to give you some highly unpleasant news. The Polish Army will be participating in the Berlin operation!’ A roar of sheer delight erupted.
On the same day I was summoned to a conference at Front headquarters. There I learned that our army would be part of a group on the right flank of the 1st Byelorussian Front that would be conducting a secondary thrust. On the premise that one could expect a three-day training course for the army commanders, the fighting tasks of the various formations were discussed. This concerned cooperation during the attack, and possible variations in the conduct of the battle.
After returning to Greifenberg, I first went to visit the Polish airmen. The 4th Mixed Air Division under Colonel Romeyko was located on the airfields in the Märkisch–Friedland area, and the preparations for the Berlin operation were already in full swing. From early until late intensive fighting training for all personnel was under way.
In the name of the government of the People’s Republic of Poland, I decorated those who had conducted themselves especially well in the previous fighting. Most of them were Poles who had come from the Soviet Union. There were also younger Air Force members that had come directly from Poland, and felt themselves closely connected with the ‘veterans’. The whole Polish Army already knew about these young experts who flew machines bearing the Polish national emblem. There were also those to whom I gave fighting decorations. Next to them stood their loyal companions, the Polish technicians, who set an example in air safety.
Back in Greifenberg I immediately dealt with a difficult problem: the regrouping of the Polish troops on the right flank of the 1st Byelorussian Front. To be precise, within six days (8th–13th April) we had to conduct a march of 200 kilometres and concentrate in the Königsberg area. The redeployment had to be conducted secretly, so only night marches were envisaged.
According to the operational plan, the 1st Polish Army and the 61st Army, with which we had cooperated in the liberation of Warsaw, had the task of expanding the breakthrough by the Front’s main forces and simultaneously securing it against a possible counterattack from the north. The 1st Byelorussian Front had already gone on the offensive on the 16th April, while the 2nd Byelorussian Front further right would attack four days later. The enemy could use this opportunity to transfer strong reserves to strike the main body of Soviet troops in the flank.
The regiments moved in accordance with the timetable to the south-west. At night I drove along the roads where the 3rd, 4th and 6th Divisions were marching. Discipline and order were being strongly adhered to by them, as were the camouflage instructions. The columns only used the right-hand side of the roads, leaving the left-hand side available to traffic in the opposite direction.
The following night I inspected the cavalry brigade. For the first time they were conducting their move by horse, the Uhlans sitting well on their horses. Not for nothing were the Poles known as born cavalrymen. The remainder of the night I spent in Stargard so that early in the morning I could call on the 77th Rifle Corps, which was to relieve us. I was just about to leave when I saw a Soviet general in the neighbouring yard. He recognised me, and I went towards him, and in fact it was an acquaintance from the academy, Stepan Kinosian. He immediately recognised me in my Polish uniform and looked me over before opening his arms for a welcoming greeting.
Kinosian was chief of staff of the 49th Army and was awaiting the arrival of Rokossovski. As I had not seen this famous army commander since 1941, and would very much like to see him again, I stayed on for a while with Kinosian.
On the road appeared several cars. In front was a big Mercedes, out of which Rokossovski climbed. Energetic and elegantly clad, he joked and laughed. I stood to one side, waiting for a suitable moment. Rokossovski had already glanced in my direction, when I finally went up to him.
‘Was that your cavalry I saw on the march?’ asked the Front commander, after I had saluted him.
‘Indeed. They are Uhlans of the 1st Independent Cavalry Brigade!’ I answered.
‘A fine brigade! Judging by their appearance, the cavalry men are not badly trained. Their bearing on the horses is exemplary, and the horses are magnificent.’
With this approving remark from the mouth of an experienced rider, and that was from Rokossovski himself, one could be really happy.
‘The Polish soldier is a good soldier,’ went on the Front commander-in-chief. ‘I am Polish myself and know the bravery of my people in war. In the liberation of Gotenhafen and Danzig the tank troops fought excellently, even though that is the youngest branch of the army. The members of the Soviet tank troops have spoken very laudably of them.’
Rokossovski was in a hurry. He wished our army success and went on to a commanders’ conference.