This was a question asked by many German soldiers at the outset of the campaign. Some were arrogantly confident; one Leutnant in the 74th Infantry Division wrote:
‘I tell you in advance that in four to five weeks time the swastika flag will be wafting over the Kremlin in Moscow, and that moreover we will have Russia finished this year and Tommy on the carpet… Ja – it is no secret, when and how, that we will be in Moscow within four weeks with our as yet undefeated Wehrmacht. It is only 1,000km from Suwalki as the crow flies. We only need to conduct another Blitzkrieg. We only know how to attack. Forward, onward and again forward in concert with our heavy weapons raining fire, cordite, iron, bombs and shells – all on the heads of the Russians. That’s all it needs.’(7)
Another infantry Oberleutnant declared that, unlike his comrades, he was not surprised at the outbreak of war ‘which he had always prophesied’. He rationalised that ‘after this war with Russia, and that in Arabia, Iraq, Syria, Palestine and Egypt, is over – which I believe will be in a short time – then Ribbentrop [the German Foreign Minister] will need only to send a single German soldier to England to negotiate’ the peace. Whatever the outcome, he sarcastically continued, ‘perhaps we will all have to go over [to England] but we will have at least secured our rear with five to six air fleets and 10,000 Panzers.’(8) Others were fortified by ideological conviction. ‘Na, what do you think of our new enemy then?’ wrote an infantry Feldwebel. ‘Perhaps Papa will recall how I spoke about the Russian army during my last leave, emphasising even then that it’s not possible to maintain lasting friendly relationships with the Bolsheviks,’ commenting sinisterly: ‘There are too many Jews there.’(9) Not all members of the invading army were so patriotically motivated, as anti-tank gunner Johann Danzer recalled:
‘On day one during our first break one of the company’s soldiers shot himself with his own rifle. He put the rifle between his knees, placed the muzzle in his mouth and squeezed off. For him, the war with all its pressures was at an end.’
Danzer’s experiences on this first day bore mute testimony to the horrors his suicidal comrade sought to avoid. After the opening bombardment he and his anti-tank gun crew ‘could see absolutely nothing at first, except for powder smoke. But as this began to disperse, and it got lighter, the devil broke loose from the Russian side.’ The PAK crew of five and commander had to drag their 37mm anti-tank gun into the attack, maintaining the same pace as the infantry advancing alongside. Four additional infantry soldiers were earmarked to assist so they could keep up. ‘Our immense load became, as a consequence, the primary target for enemy fire.’ The first burst of Russian machine gun fire tore the entire group apart. ‘Three men were killed instantly,’ said Danzer, ‘all the others were severely wounded and I was the only one left uninjured.’(10)
After the crust of Russian resistance was broken by the infantry, on the frontier the Panzers began to clatter through the breaches and penetrate the hinterland. Their passage was not totally unimpeded. ‘I found myself on the Eastern Front encountering what seemed to be a different and terrible race of men,’ declared Hans Becker,(11) a Panzer crew man with the 12th Panzer Division. ‘The very first attacks involved sharp, fierce fighting.’
Seventh Panzer Division achieved an initial deep penetration. Border defences were weak in relation to what had been reported by intelligence, ‘and enemy artillery never emerged in any consequential strength’. By 12.45 hours on the first day the bridge spanning the River Neman at Olita was captured intact, falling victim to a determined swiftly advancing vanguard. The bridgehead was immediately counter-attacked by Russian heavy tanks supported by infantry and artillery. During this first tank-on-tank battle of the Russian campaign, 82 Soviet tanks were shot into flames.(12) Karl Fuchs, a tank commander in Panzer Regiment 25, wrote home:
‘Yesterday I knocked off a Russian tank, as I had done two days ago! If I get in another attack, I’ll receive my first battle stripes. War is half as bad as it sounds and one thing is plain as day: the Russians are fleeing everywhere and we follow them. All of us believe in early victory!’(13)
Olita village burned furiously. Numbers of German tanks smouldered along the roads leading into it. Rubber treads on road wheels formed miniature flaming hoops. Many had turrets blown clean away. All had been picked off during the advance by dug-in Russian tanks. Seventh Panzer Division almost immediately burst out of its bridgehead on the other side of the River Neman, but Oberst Rothenberg, the commander of Panzer Regiment 25, was to call the engagement ‘the hardest battle of my life’.(14)
The weather on this first attack day was, as the 7th Panzer Division official history declared:
‘…particularly favourable for fighting, and over the following days. It was dry, the sun shone, roads and tracks were easily negotiable, and even the terrain off roads and paths, normally swampy, had dried out and was drivable for both tracked and wheeled vehicles.’(15)
Gefreiter Erich Kuby summed it up with some irony in his diary: ‘This is truly Hitler war weather,’(16) he declared. The official history of the 20th Panzer Division, also with Panzergruppe 3 under Generaloberst Hoth, commented on the impact the heat was having on accompanying marching infantry regiments, which traversed considerable stretches on the first day, some as far as 50km. Assessments of Soviet strength on the border proved exaggerated. Three hundred prisoners, including 20 officers and 10 lorries, were captured on 22 June. Deeply rutted sand tracks caused unexpectedly high levels of fuel consumption. Shortages resulted when wheeled fuel tankers found they were unable to keep up in the hot sandy conditions. Columns began to stretch out. ‘The long slow division line snaked along dry shifting tracks in the summer heat,’ recorded the division history, ‘raising clear dust-cloud outlines, offering a promising target for enemy bombers.’ Six air attacks fell on these lines of erratically moving vehicles on the first day alone.(17)
Where was the Red Air Force?
‘We were not bothered at all by the Red Air Force,’ remarked Leutnant Michael Wechtler. His men, lying in reserve with Regiment 133, awaited the call forward to Brest-Litovsk. They basked in the sun in an open meadow seemingly oblivious to air attack, awaiting further orders.(1) Leutnant Heinz Knoke, a Bf109 fighter pilot flying with JG52, had already attacked his early morning Russian headquarters objective. Total surprise was achieved:
‘One of the huts is fiercely blazing. Vehicles have been stripped of their camouflage and overturned by the blast. The Ivans at last come to life. The scene below is like an overturned ant-heap, as they scurry about in confusion. Stepsons of Stalin in their underwear flee for cover in the woods.’
Five or six more strafing runs were conducted over the camp and headquarters. Light Flak began to open up and was immediately suppressed. ‘An Ivan at the gun falls to the ground,’ Knoke observed, ‘still in underwear.’
His flight arrived back at Suwalki fighter base at 05.56 hours, managing a turn-round within 40 minutes before returning to their previous objective, guided ‘by the smoke rising from the burning buildings’. After systematically raking the target the wing was refuelled and rearmed again; this time it took 22 minutes. By the end of the day Knoke saw that: