I recalled the bridgehead of Sandomierz in August 1944 when our brigade was fighting against superior forces. At that time Andrei Vladimirovitch came through to us like a marvel. He brought neither tanks nor artillery with him, just a few simple, rousing words, his sheer presence in the narrow trenches making us strong.
‘We both will drink champagne in Goebbels’ residence,’ he said to me in a quiet moment.
‘God grant that we will survive this hell in one piece. For the time being I am not in the mood for champagne,’ I murmured.
‘Why do you want to bury yourself already? You will see, we will get to Berlin!’ That was the way he always spoke. And today he said: ‘You see we have met once more, not exactly in Berlin, but shortly before it. How difficult it was too, but we have made it up till now. We have even met in a quite unusual situation.’
In order to calm down a bit, I asked jokingly: ‘Are there not a few too many Novikovs in one cellar?’
Vassili Vassilievitch took off his gilded spectacles and polished the lenses. ‘There are fewer Novikovs in Russia than Ivanovs, especially in the Kalinin area. That we three should all be in one place, you are responsible. Should your brigade be on the other side of the canal I would not be sitting here, and Nikolai Alexandrovitch would also not have come.’ The corps commander paused a moment and went to the heart of the matter. ‘Nevertheless it is unpardonable that the brigade should be held up at the canal. We took the Dnepr, were the first to force the Vistula, and you have left the Nida, Varta and Oder behind you but now you are unable to get across this unfortunate canal!’
Nervously Vassili Vassilievitch moved to and fro. I was meeting General Novikov today for the first time as previously he had been commanding another corps. Nevertheless I had already heard much good about his well-balanced attitude and his courage. It was said that it was difficult to bring the general out of his composure. Nevertheless I remained careful in this first encounter with the new corps commander.
General Novikov went to the map and I followed him.
‘The Teltow Canal is the last hurdle on the way to Berlin. Once we have forced it we are at our goal.’ The corps commander spoke slowly, wanting his subordinates to correctly understand the meaning of every sentence.
I learned of his immediate decision to force the canal on a width of 5 kilometres and to attack in two sectors. ‘On the right sector will be the Schapovalov Brigade and the 55th will deal with the left. We will let Kostin’s regiment with his light SU-76 tanks attack over the blown bridge. One has only to reinforce the bridge remains beforehand.’
I discovered that there would be an artillery division in the corps’ attack area and two artillery brigades in our sector. We could pin the enemy down with this and the assigned engineer battalion would ensure the crossing.
‘How much time have we at our disposal?’
‘One day. Report your readiness to me at the end of the 23rd April.’
There were no further questions. The details I would have to clarify myself. For the moment everything was swimming around in front of me. Firstly I must discover why our whole army was standing still in front of this damned canal. What forces were facing us? One had to examine everything, think things through properly and prepare thoroughly.
We negotiated the ground floor of the building with the corps commander and climbed carefully out of a narrow window. We could see the terrain around us for a kilometre. To the right, left and in front of us lay shot-up villages, garden allotments, individual farms, villas and gardens. Several lakes glistened in the distance. I could not find the notorious Teltow Canal at first. Vassili Vassilievitch polished his spectacles as usual and replaced them on his nose. ‘On the right is Teltow, in front of us Stahnsdorf, and there is the destroyed bridge. On the right of it is the breakthrough sector of the 23rd Rifle Brigade.’
Now I could make out the canal embankment clearly with the binoculars. It was raised well above the green fields. The surface of the water was reflected at various points.
Once we had examined the terrain we returned to the cellar. Lunch was ready on the table. I dared not refuse the invitation. Andrei Vladimirovitch Novikov poured everyone a glass of vodka. ‘To our victory. We will drink champagne in Berlin.’
While we were eating, Nikolai Alexandrovitch Novikov, who had kept quiet until now, said in a low voice: ‘Vassili Vassilievitch, Marshal Koniev asked me to advise him yet again on your corps’ special situation. The attack is aimed at the western edge of the city. Under the pressure from the two Fronts the enemy will doubtless be forced to withdraw to the west. You must block his attempt to break out. The enemy will try to eliminate you in a fight to the death. Think about it and do everything to ensure your corps will not be overrun.’
Before the corps commander replied, he polished his spectacles once more. ‘I fully understand that. But I need infantry as soon as possible, otherwise the corps will fall between the hammer and anvil.’ Turning towards me, he went on: ‘Until now one knew you in the 3rd Tank Army as a commander that neither looked back nor feared open flanks. This reputation has now to be defended.’
‘On this you can depend,’ interposed the lowest-ranking Novikov, the head of the political department, Andrei Vladimirovitch.
We had to take the same route back as we had come by. But now I already knew something about the situation and felt not so out of things. The following day we used to prepare for the battle.
With the scouts, engineers, the commander of the SU-76 regiment, the battalion commanders and the officers of the attached artillery, we crept to the positions, identified the crossing points and investigated the approaches to the canal. We moved up to the canal bank, studied the enemy’s firing regime and identified his firing positions.
Although we had tried hard to conceal them, nevertheless the enemy noticed our preparations. In the second half of the day he increased his fire and until late in the night big calibre shells exploded on our bank while the enemy anti-aircraft guns fired at ground targets. This day showed us what a hard nut we had to crack. In order to conquer this vast city, there was no question but that we had to change our previous tactics. Going around, attacking off the move, thrusting in the flanks or enemy rear no longer applied under the given conditions.
We tank soldiers had become accustomed to the reinforced preparation techniques in the last two years. In many big operations the commander-in-chief of the 1st Ukrainian Front operated under conditions that enabled wide-ranging manoeuvres. We avoided tedious battles, thrusting straight into the breaches and thus widening the breakthrough. Often the tanks operated up to 100 kilometres ahead of the infantry. The taking of prepared lines of defence deep in the enemy’s rear was routine for us. Especially popular methods were deep thrusts into the operational area, manoeuvring towards the flanks, the taking of important centres, then a thrust towards a big water obstacle and the formation of a bridgehead. The present situation, however, left us no room to manoeuvre. Berlin, with its numerous suburbs, water obstacles, streets and buildings, awaited us.
Although we stood immediately before the city, the Fascist leaders sought our destruction in every way. Hitler hoped as before for some miracle or other. He went on forming reserves from newly established units, from his officer corps, the officer schools, the Gestapo and the Volkssturm battalions. The overall head of the Fascist Reich even tried to make an arrangement with the USA and Great Britain against the Soviet Union and the Red Army. Every means, whether military or political, was acceptable if only he could hold on to life for an hour longer. Consequently there was no easy way for us.