‘I am sitting at the radio operator’s post inside a heavy-duty [PzKpfwIV] Panzer and will be filming the attack from here,’ says Landgraf on the film. ‘Against us are heavily armed and well equipped new groups of Soviet reserves just outside Moscow.’ Bucking images taken through the dark surround of the vision slit recreated the uncomfortable cross-terrain ride of a Panzer sweep. ‘You can hear the clack-clack of artillery and machine gun fire on three sides,’ he said. His armoured group trades fire with enemy positions ‘for hours’ in a ‘fierce battle’ illustrated by images of burning houses and hayricks with momentary glimpses of accompanying Panzers jockeying for and shooting from fire positions. ‘Our tank shakes with mortar rounds landing all around us,’ he reports. Eventually resistance is beaten into submission and Landgraf comments, ‘our gun barrels are becoming hot from continuously firing round after round for so long’. The scene changes to night shots of tracer arching away from the tank into an indiscernible gloom. They have managed to advance several kilometres.
‘It snowed overnight,’ Landgraf continues – an ominous statement for cinema audiences concerned at the onset of winter and fearful of the consequences for their menfolk at the front. Accompanying infantry had dug trenches between the Panzers. ‘The battle continues,’ says Landgraf as groups of infantrymen, stooping under the weight of heavy machine guns and ammunition, move by. Many characteristically have cigarette butts or pipes dangling from their mouths. The flat landscape broken up by woods has been totally transformed by a light covering of snow. Panzers and half-tracks starkly silhouetted against the whiteness are engaged in an intense fire-fight. Smoke spurting from squat 50mm tank barrels is accentuated in the freezing air. They have encountered ‘a wall of resistance’ and among fleeting groups of running German infantry ‘our tanks can only inch their way forward’ over a landscape dotted with burning village houses. Luftwaffe dive-bombers are seen to engage enemy artillery positions ahead, but the war reporter dramatically interjects ‘as soon as one battery is defeated another takes its place… Dusk falls again,’ he reports as the metallic concussions of turret machine gun fire ring out. The camera tracks the lines of tracer beyond the vehicles, bursting on indistinguishable targets in the distance.
Daylight revealed, ‘we are standing directly before a wooded area containing one of the main Soviet defence lines’. Up ahead, houses are blazing furiously. ‘The camouflage covering the Soviet bunkers,’ cunningly concealed underneath the wooden houses, ‘has caught fire’. Landgraf next provides commentary to an 88mm Flak gun crew feverishly working and firing their gun in thick falling snow. ‘On the third day,’ he said, ‘anti-aircraft artillery is brought in to assist us in the decisive blow.’ Puffs of smoke indicating air-bursts are seen detonating over the wooded objective. Meanwhile the Flak gun crew are becoming covered in thick wet snow. ‘We manage to break through over a wide front,’ he says. Panzer PzKpfwIIIs and IVs silhouetted against the white background drive past a trio of dead Soviet soldiers sprawled untidily across the snow. The Panzers are shooting the infantry onto the objective as ‘we move in from the flank to attack the middle of the Soviet defence line and break it down in a series of bloody skirmishes’. It is all over. ‘Over there you can see the Bolsheviks coming out of their trenches,’ Landgraf triumphantly announces, ‘we have successfully broken down the enemy defence lines.’
Much was made of this example of realistic war-reporting, which proceeded to show the extent of the defences overcome on this position either side of the Moscow road. A diagrammatic survey shows automatic flamethrowers, zig-zag trenches and wide antitank traps covered by artillery and spiky ‘hedgehog’ tank obstacles constructed from sections of railway track. Heavy concrete bunkers covered by intermediate positions housing heavy weapons and artillery formed the core of the line. The camera lingered over the broken bodies of the Russian defenders. The film was in stark contrast to the clarion special announcements by the Reich Press Chief, Dr Dietrich, and newspaper headlines declaring the war was just short of being decisively won. It was shown in German cinemas at the end of October, coinciding with SS Secret Service observations of ‘a certain public disappointment’ at events. ‘The collapse of the Bolshevik system was anticipated in a few days’ and the public’s interpretation of this was that ‘it was unlikely large scale actions would occur at the front’. Reports such as Landgraf’s demonstrated this was not the case. Confusion turned to cynicism. It was obvious major fighting was still going on.(23)
This was grimly apparent to soldiers at the front. Leutnant G. Heysing, writing about the same battle at Borodino with Panzergruppe 4, reported the town of Mozhaisk on the strategic Moscow defence line was taken on 18 October, but that ‘autumn rains have set in, depriving German soldiers of the fruits of the victory they have already won’. His assessment was, ‘the German assault is stuck knee-deep in the mire’. The 10th Panzer Division spearheading the advance ‘is spread far apart between forest and swamp, the mud reaching the vehicles in some instances up to the loading area so that supplies cannot get through’. He concluded, ‘try as we may, we cannot go on.’(24) Both the 10th Panzer and the 2nd SS Division ‘Das Reich’ in support suffered heavy losses during the Borodino fighting. The ‘Der Führer’ Infantry Regiment was down to 35 men per company, compared to a normal complement of 176 soldiers. They were over-stretched. ‘Every objective given the regiment was reached,’ declared its official historian, ‘even if it required unspeakable effort.’ The regiment’s first battalion and motorcycle battalion had fought the Soviet 82nd Motorised Rifle Division for possession of Schelkowka, an important crossroads on the advance.
‘The 18- to 20-year-olds had repulsed two Soviet battalions in close combat with spades, hand-grenades and bayonets. Many of the young SS men were killed, and all were bare-foot in their boots in 15° below freezing.’(25)
Expectations had been high that the Sondermeldungen trumpeting the victories at Vyazma and Bryansk heralded the end of Russian resistance. This was the great illusion. Cynicism now began to set in. Unlike the previous Borodino battle, the gates of Moscow did not swing open, nor had an armistice been offered. General Günther Blumentritt described the bitter realisation:
‘And now, when Moscow itself was almost in sight, the mood both of commanders and troops changed. With amazement and disappointment we discovered in late October and early November that the beaten Russians seemed quite unaware that as a military force they had almost ceased to exist. During these weeks enemy resistance stiffened and the fighting became more bitter with each day that passed.’(26)
At the end of October only a small part of the Reich’s population believed the war in the east would end that year. Observers commenting on recent reports of progress and fighting against stubborn and bloody Soviet resistance had ‘clearly led to an intensification of public scepticism over the propaganda of the preceding few weeks’. By early November ‘there were signs of impatience that clarion announcements of successes were not forthcoming’. Continued reports of bitter Soviet opposition led to frustration. The interpretation of the public mood read: ‘one simply cannot understand why the German troops do not suddenly swiftly advance after destroying 260 of the best-equipped Russian divisions.’ This feeling had changed to ‘resignation’ by the middle of November. ‘The conviction that a decisive outcome to the war is unlikely to occur this year is becoming even more pronounced,’ read another secret SS report.(27) A similar view was emerging at the front.