‘Correct, I had forgotten. You were constantly after me. The spare parts were insufficient for you, and then the repair mechanics did a sloppy job.’
‘Next thing he was asked to join the Party. The Komsomol group was very happy with him,’ reported Ossadtchi, who had kept silent until then.
‘If that is so, Comrade Lieutenant, then you are our man. We want to send you and Comrade Gorodenzev forward. Take as many Panzerfausts as possible and put an end to that German tank there. This is especially important for the continuance of our attack.’
Gorodenzev was the same age as Boldyrev, but was already married and had two children. The two soldiers set off. Half an hour later Golovatschov reported that they had reached their goal and were going through the buildings with the assault team’s infantry. Gorodenzev had been slightly wounded but was fighting on.
It was not much longer before the enemy tank was eliminated. That was Boldyrev’s work. The sound of fighting ebbed in the side streets. For their courage Boldyrev was awarded the title Hero of the Soviet Union and Gorodenzev the Order of the Red Star.
Medical orderlies crept past our SPG. Liudmila and her team were on the way to the infantry. As she was attending to a badly wounded man, a German fighter flew over and shot at the nurse with his machine-guns. Liudmila collapsed. The medical orderlies Michail Maritsha and Fiodor Ailov put her carefully on a stretcher and brought her to safety in a ruined building. When an SPG arrived to take her to hospital, I called out to her: ‘Liuda, what about our date in Mordvinein?’
Liudmila raised her head and looked at me: ‘It’s still on. As soon as I am back on my feet.’
The SPG was followed by a Jeep carrying the dead commander of the 35th Mechanised Brigade, General Babaian.
The fighting for the individual parts of the city cost a lot of blood, but the attack continued. In the middle of the confusion of battle, soldiers put up posters on the walls of the buildings. From one of them I discovered which unit they belonged to: ‘We’re from Berzarin’s army. The Front’s War Council has appointed our army commander City Commandant. That is the order for the temporary assumption of all authority by the Soviet City Kommandatura.’
‘Excellent. Berlin is not yet fully taken, but Berzarin has already got the reins firmly in his hands.’
Major Ossadtchi joined us. ‘Have you seen it?’ I indicated the notice with my head.
‘Of course! A good thing too. That will give the inhabitants new courage to carry on.’
Dusk was sinking around us. An exciting night lay ahead. German snipers kept after us. Flares briefly lit the streets with colourful light.
The most important task that night was the repair of the shot-up SPGs. The repair and recovery teams had set themselves up in the school at Malchow. I did not know how Captain Odartshuk was getting on with the work, so I got into an SPG and drove to Malchow. In the gymnasium stood lathes, jacks and defective SPGs on which several mechanics were working. ‘We are trying to meet the schedules, but we lack spare parts. Apart from that the men are almost dropping with fatigue. They haven’t closed their eyes for two days.’
‘Send someone to the corps camp in Seelow. All the parts are available there. Sleep is unthinkable at the moment.’
Odartshuk took a deep breath. It was very difficult for the captain. His drawn face and reddened eyes clearly showed his fatigue. The workshop brigade team was led by Senior-Sergeant-Major A.D. Kiverov, who could be found wherever a hand was needed. Roman Ulanov had sent him the 9th Tank Corps’ Workshop Battalion in support.
Sleep threatened to overtake the mechanics towards morning, but they put their heads under the water taps and went back to work. Once the major part of the work was completed, Odartshuk’s mood improved abruptly.
Suddenly a German bomber appeared over Malchow. Seconds later we heard a penetrating whistling. We jumped into the examination pits. There were already explosions. The light went out. Flames crackled in the hall. A barrel of diesel oil had caught fire. The flames quickly took hold of the oil-smeared tarpaulin with which the SPG was covered. Should the vehicle catch fire there would be no chance of recovery as it was fully armed up.
‘Quick! Everybody out!’ cried Odartshuk, tearing off his coat and throwing it over the burning barrel. Although he burnt his hands, he carried on until the flames were extinguished. When the emergency lights switched on, he went checking one SPG after another. Splinters had bent the aerials and damaged the machine-gun barrels, and one SPG had its steering wheel bent.
Kiverov clapped his hands over his head. ‘That nearly had us. What now?’
Odartshuk glared at him: ‘Work on. Nothing else.’
As the men were returning to their tools, spare parts and a workshop truck arrived from the corps depot. Now the schedule could be maintained. Content, I left the workshop and drove back to Berlin.
The regimental headquarters were located in a cellar on Berliner Strasse. Shortly after my arrival a convoy of repaired SPGs rolled in. Odartshuk was sitting on the armour of the leading vehicle beaming. Several soldiers, including Mussatov, hurried past, hauled Odartshuk off the SPG and threw him jubilantly into the air.
The repaired SPGs were immediately shared out among the companies. Once that was done I went over the situation with Major Sacharkin. During the course of the night some important changes had taken place. The enemy defensive ring had been broken in four sectors.
Towards evening Major Shabalin brought us the corps headquarters’ instructions. Our regiment was to move immediately with the motorised infantry and Chotimski’s tanks to the western edge of the city, take Siemensstadt, force the Berlin–Spandau Shipping Canal and thrust towards Charlottenburg.
We set off immediately. We stopped towards morning not far from the Spandau Canal. Once we had forced it, we could attack the factories in Siemensstadt. The infantry took up positions on the southern bank of the canal under heavy fire. We took up firing positions behind the second line of infantry.
Sacharkin looked through the periscope and shouted happily: ‘Comrade Lieutenant-Colonel, I can see the Reichstag!’
I turned to him: ‘Where? Where? Why haven’t we seen it earlier?’
‘The fog has dispersed. Look, the building with the big dome on the bend in the Spree – that’s the Reichstag.’
Excitedly I took over the periscope. Yes, there stood the Reichstag. Suddenly I was overwhelmed by the desire to shoot at that damned building. Sacharkin appeared to read my thoughts. His eyes flashed: ‘Fire?’
‘Of course! Give the Fascists one in the roof.’
I left it to Lieutenant Mussatov, as I knew how accurately he could hit at long distances. A few minutes later Mussatov came panting: ‘Look through the periscope,’ he said to Sacharkin.
Mussatov did not know what he wanted and went irresolutely to the apparatus.
‘What have you got in the sights?’ asked Sacharkin.
‘A cathedral, I think.’
‘That’s no cathedral, that’s the Reichstag. The commander orders you and your whole company to open fire!’
Mussatov turned toward me, clicked his heels together and vanished in a flash.
Happily Sacharkin recorded in the fighting log of the 347th Guards Heavy Self-Propelled Artillery Regiment: ‘At 1400 hours on the 26th April the Heavy Self-Propelled Artillery opened direct fire on the Reichstag.’
From the observation post I could see how Mussatov had the drivers and commanders parade. They stood there, Shevtshuk, Sergeiev, Buschuiev and Monogarov, listening attentively to their company commander’s words. Meanwhile the other crew members were preparing their vehicles. Then Mussatov’s voice came through the ear pieces: ‘Shrapnel! At the Reichstag, centre of target, setting 100! First SPG – one round – fire!’