‘Right. We must not give the enemy any possibility of mustering his forces,’ agreed Latyshev.
I withdrew from the radio vehicle. From a neighbouring cellar I heard the regular ticking of a teleprinter and the loud voice of Radsievski, passing on instructions to the subordinate staffs. ‘Attack then, Comrade Yershov, we dare not lessen the pressure on the enemy in any way. Hitler will only give up when we finally have him by the throat.’
I made my way back to my headquarters, which were accommodated in the offices of an ammunition factory in a street nearby. The staff had set themselves up in the directors’ room. Out of the window one could see the street in which our regiment was fighting. A heavy mortar battery had deployed in the factory yard, and dust was coming off the walls with every salvo.
‘Is there anything new?’ I asked Sacharkin.
‘Leliushenko’s and Rybalko’s elements are advancing successfully and thrusting towards us. West of Berlin Vedeneiev’s tanks have made contact with Colonel Korezki’s fighting vehicles of Leliushenko’s army. The first to force the canal were Colonel Shamardin’s motorised rifle brigade of Vedeneiev’s corps, then Colonel Korezki’s infantry built a bridge. Tanks were immediately sent across. Hitler’s Reichs Chancellery is now only a stone’s throw from us. The communications centre in the Bendlerstrasse has already been taken. Goebbels has committed suicide. Chief of the General Staff Krebs wants to discuss surrender terms with our supreme command, but the answer from Moscow is that there is only total and unconditional surrender!’ And now Sacharkin had some happy news. ‘Our victorious banner is waving over the Reichstag. The fighting for the Reichstag began on the morning of the 30th April. The Fascists put up a fierce resistance. Our first attacks were beaten back, but towards 1800 hours our soldiers forced their way into the Reichstag under cover of artillery fire.’
Nevertheless bitter fighting continued within the Reichstag building. I decided to increase the fighting pressure in the Tiergarten further.
As Pashitnov received the order to concentrate fire on the Reichs Chancellery, he cheerfully declared: ‘For four years I have dreamed of storming Berlin. And now I have been given the task of destroying Hitler’s hideout with the fire from our SPGs, an honourable task, thank you, Comrade Commander!’
Sacharkin too received an important task. He was to select a group of submachine-gunners, under the command of an officer, and they were to track down leading members of the Fascist government and senior Party functionaries and arrest them. For the first time ever Michail Ivanovitch Sacharkin lost his proverbial calm. His eyes flashed. He happily hurried to the telephone and entrusted Major Shabalin with the running of the staff.
I went to the window. The SPGs of our regiment and Chotimski’s riflemen were deploying on the station square and in the gardens. They were preparing to attack Savignyplatz S-Bahn station.
But the German troops in Berlin, though surrounded and isolated from each other, were still not giving in. Mussatov sent Pavlov to me with a report that the enemy were advancing in his rear. ‘Understood. I will send machine-pistol infantry to his aid immediately.’
Muraviov’s company was fighting in a parallel street. There was no communication with him. The alley by which one could get to Muraviov was under fire. But a messenger had to get there. My eyes fell on Yura. I considered whether I should send him. But before speaking to him I consulted with Ossadtchi.
‘What else can you do?’ he said. ‘If the situation demands, then you must send him.’
I called Yura to me. ‘You have complained that no one gives you a fighting role. Now the moment has arrived that we need you.
‘At last! What should I do?’
‘Take a letter to Muraviov. But look, the alley is under fire. You must not delay, as our SPGs are in danger. Should you encounter Germans, destroy the letter. Understood?’
‘Certainly! I am already on my way.’ Yura took the envelope and ran into the yard. Major Ossadtchi and I went to the window. Yura ran up to and jumped over the fence. A burst of machine-gun fire whirled up the dust near him. The youngster dived into a ditch, stood up again and ran on, shells bursting behind him.
‘He has had it now,’ whispered Ossadtchi.
My heart was in my throat. But as the dust from the explosions blew away, we saw Yura flitting through the alley.
‘He’s through,’ I said, relieved.
About ten minutes passed, then machine-pistol infantry appeared firing. Ahead of them ran Muraviov, Golovatshiov and Yura. A little later the youngster stood before me, scratched and beaming. ‘Comrade Commander, order executed. Muraviov’s company has gone into the attack!’
Deeply moved, I clasped Yura in my arms. ‘Thank you, my boy.’
The noise of fighting from the direction of the Tiergarten increased. I drove forward with an SPG and stopped about 200 metres from the Tiergarten. Mussatov’s SPG stood in front of me firing into the extensive park. Chotimski’s men, deployed into a defensive line, lay in front of the SPG. Strong fire from the Tiergarten was pinning them to the ground.
Meanwhile Colonel Vainrub’s tanks had arrived and deployed behind us. They fired as if they were in competition with the SPGs. Sintshenko’s riflemen were covering the Tiergarten with fire from the Reichstag.
The Berlin Palace was on fire. When a white flag was fluttered out of a window, General Krivoshein ordered me to cease fire and break off the attack!
‘Please repeat that once more,’ I replied, completely confused. ‘We cannot let the enemy get away with it!’
Krivoshein laughed and explained: ‘The Berlin Garrison has capitulated. Weidling has struck his weapons. The war is over!’
This news hit us like a stroke of lightning from the heavens. We had long waited for this moment. I immediately passed on the order to all the units. I myself, however, remained for a long time on the spot, unable to grasp the situation. Joy at victory and remembering the difficult battles filled my heart. We had needed four years of an unprecedented, sacrificial war to finally bring the Fascist beast to its knees. Beaten by the Soviet Army, in whose ranks were those who had had to retreat to Moscow in the hard year of 1941 but nevertheless had sworn to take Berlin. Now they had fulfilled this oath.
Krivoshein ordered the regiment to assemble. The men fell on each other’s necks, kissing each other, congratulating each other on the victory. Lieutenant Kiritshenko groaned and fell to the ground. In four years of war he had not received a scratch and now he lay at our feet!
The shot [that hit him] had come from the roof of a building. Our submachine-gunners stormed the building, caught a Fascist in civilian clothing and made short work of him. ‘The war is over, but we must remain alert,’ warned Ossadtchi.
I had the regiment fall in and led it to the Victory Column, where Vainrub’s tank troops and those from the mechanised brigades of Chotimski, Petrov and Sokolov had already paraded. A feeling of pride in my country, my people and my army streamed through me. I was delighted with my regiment, whose heavy self-propelled guns had ended their long fighting advance in besieged Berlin.
The First Days After Victory
The first changes began in our regiment. Pashitnov, Ossadtchi and I already knew about the coming transfers to other units. Sacharkin was delegated for studies in Leningrad. The soldiers in the older age groups were preparing themselves for demobilisation. Shabalin and Postnikov were empowered with the temporary command of the regiment.