Panzergruppe 2 succeeded in forcing the River Dnieper either side of Mogilev at Stary Bykhov and Shklov, after hard fighting, between 10 and 11 July. Meanwhile Panzergruppe 3, following the line of the River Dvina between Polotsk and Vitebsk, was ordered to break into the region north of Smolensk. Vitebsk fell on 9 July, animatedly recalled by soldier Erhard Schaumann, who witnessed its fiery capitulation:
‘Driving through Vitebsk we were suddenly surrounded by fire – to the left and right, and ahead of us – it was burning everywhere. So we turned around to get out. We thought we’d never get out of the burning city alive. I thought the trucks would blow up, it was so hot. But we were lucky. Then we attacked Vitebsk from the west. The Russians expected us to come in from the south. That’s how Vitebsk was stormed.’(6)
Panzergruppe 3 pressed on, bypassing Russian forces on the Orscha-Smolensk road. It had, following intense fighting, set in motion the beginning of the Smolensk encirclement by 13 July. Two days later a bold surprise attack on the city itself resulted in its capture.
On 17 July a new pocket had been created around the Dnieper-Dvina land bridge containing about 25 Russian divisions centred on Vitebsk, Mogilev and the city of Smolensk. It was estimated some 300,000 enemy soldiers were inside. Von Bock’s infantry formations were anything up to 320km behind the Panzer spearheads at this point, with many units still extricating themselves from mopping up the Minsk pockets. The Panzers and motorised formations of Fourth (Panzer) Army strung a noose around the highly dangerous Russian formations and hung on, tightening the pressure and waiting for the marching infantry to arrive. The grip was tenuous. On 18 July only six German divisions were in place against 12 Soviet divisions in the pocket.(7) Soviet pressure built up quickly from within and outside der Kessel (the cauldron). Everybody was now focused on the progress of the infantry. Where were they?
Finale: Brest-Litovsk
Even as the enormous pocket at Smolensk was being formed, the 45th Infantry Division had still to reduce the very first Soviet pocket that had been established on day one of the campaign.
At the end of June isolated resistance points had gradually succumbed to the German investment of Brest-Litovsk. German soldiers forced to engage in hand-to-hand fighting to clear confined spaces in the bitterly contested outposts took no risks. Casualties were heavy. Mercy was neither anticipated nor freely given. Medical Sister Katschowa Lesnewna from the surgical hospital on the South Island said:
‘After being under siege for a week, the Fascists penetrated the fortress. They took out all the wounded, children, women and soldiers, and shot them all before our eyes. We sisters, wearing our distinctive white hats and smocks marked with red crosses, tried to intervene, thinking they might take notice. But the Fascists shot 28 wounded in my ward alone, and when they didn’t immediately die, they tossed in hand-grenades among them.’(1)
At 08.00 hours on 29 June, the eighth day of the siege, the much-vaunted Luftwaffe sortie was finally flown. A single bomber dropped a 500kg bomb onto the Ostfort. It was intended that German lives would be saved by blasting defenders into submission. The resulting massive explosion caused only superficial damage to the brickwork. Preparations were made for a close-in ground attack the next day, using incendiary devices. Barrels and bottles were filled with a mixture of petrol, oil and fat. These were to be rolled into the fort’s trenches and ignited with hand-grenades and Very pistols. Nobody relished the task. The Luftwaffe was given one last chance.
The solitary bomber returned and languidly circled the fortress while final aiming instructions were radioed to it. All attention focused on the Ostfort. Soldiers moving through the devastated wasteland of surrounding parkland and on the scarred walls of the citadel paused and gazed skyward. Another 500kg bomb whistled into the fort with minimal impact. The scene had taken on a relaxed, almost bizarre troop trial atmosphere. Cameras rolled to capture the moment on film. Interested spectators from the 45th Division headquarters staff gathered on the roof of a nearby building to watch. Circling above, the lone Luftwaffe bomber steadily came on line and lobbed a solitary 1,800kg bomb. The black cylindrical speck descended with slow effortless ease until it struck the corner of the massive ditch-fronted wall. A violent crack and boom echoed around the streets of Brest. Windows shattered and the whole population started as a huge pall of smoke spurted up above the stricken fort. This time there was massive damage, signalling the end for the survivors. Russian soldiers began to emerge from the fort: there were women and children among them. By dusk, some 389 men had surrendered.(2)
During the early morning hours of 30 June the Ostfort was searched and cleared of Russian wounded. German bodies, which had been pathetically sprawled for days around the fort’s deadly apertures, were finally recovered. Jets of bright flame marked by incandescent eruptions of black smoke marked the progress of flamethrower teams burning and incinerating likely hiding places rather than risk a look inside. Victory appeared complete. The town and fortress of Brest-Litovsk had been cleared. Panzer ‘Rollbahn 1’ moving eastward and the Warsaw-Brest railway were open to uninterrupted convoy traffic. Elements from two Soviet divisions, the 6th and 42nd, with over a hundred officers and 7,122 NCOs and men, were captured. In addition, 36 tracked and 1,500 badly damaged vehicles of other types were taken, along with 14,576 rifles, 1,327 machine guns and 103 artillery pieces of various calibres. Although victory appeared total, and the Panzer spearheads were already hundreds of kilometres into the Russian interior, psychologically it was an empty result.
PK-cameramen filmed the last exhausted Russian survivors as they emerged from the devastated Ostfort. Dirty and bandaged, they looked directly and unashamedly at the cameras. Adopting a relaxed stance, smoking cigarettes, they exuded a grim confidence that was not lost on their captors, and probably not the message intended for the cinema audiences in Germany who would later view the weekly Wochenschau newsreel. The 45th Division report stated, ‘they were in no way shaken, appearing strong and well fed, giving a disciplined impression.’ The major and commissar who had maintained resistance to the last were never found. They had committed suicide.(3)
The 45th Infantry Division had entered the Russian theatre as a veteran formation, having lost 462 men in France. Its chaplain interred 482 men in the first divisional cemetery of the Russian campaign at Brest-Litovsk, including 32 officers. Another 30 officers and about 1,000 other ranks were wounded.(4) Some 2,000 Russian dead were actually found in the vicinity of the citadel and fortresses, but it is estimated as many as 3,500 may have died. The experience of the 45th Division at Brest was to prove a microcosm of the fate soon to befall its sister divisions in Russia. It lost more men during this initial action in the east than it lost during the entire campaign in the west the year before. It was a sobering calculation. The 45th Division became part of the newly formed Second Army on 3 July and marched eastward far behind the renamed Fourth (Panzer) Army, with which it had started the campaign.
Even after 30 June, and following 45th Division’s departure, German soldiers needed to be alert in the vicinity of the fortress, because isolated sniping continued. Frustration at this ‘unfair’ – to the German mind – form of guerrilla warfare was vented on innocent bystanders. Gefreiter Willi Schadt, a motorcycle NCO from the 29th Motorised Division, recalled how Unteroffizier Fettenborn from his company shot dead 15 defenceless civilians in Brest, ‘before,’ as the perpetrator explained, ‘these red swine start something’. The hapless victims were forced to dig their own graves before execution.(5)