Panzer Commander Part 19

While we were on the move from the early morning of 10 February, Lieutenant-General Wemer Marcks arrived as our new divisional commander. I knew him slightly from North Africa, where he had received the Knight's Cross for bravery, dropped out because of a serious tropical disease until the beginning of 1944, and had then, as commander of the Ist Panzer Division in Russia, been decorated with the "oak leaves." Thereafter he had again fallen seriously ill. I was not altogether happy at the thought of now having to work with Marcks. He was regarded as ambitious, a hard man, and ruthless in carrying out orders.

In that he resembled the commander in chief of Army Group Center, Field Marshal Schoemer, in whose area we now entered.

Sch.o.e.rner, like Rommel, had been decorated in the First World War with the "Pour le merite," on the Italian front. It was said that he envied Rommel his fame and popularity. He seemed to want to The Beginning of the End 249 give himself a high profile through exceptional severity and success. Schoemer was notorious for the operations of the so-called "flying drumhead courts-martial." On Hitier's orders any incipient defeatism, desertion, failure to carry out orders or malingering were to be nipped in the bud by the imposition of death sentences as a deterrent, against which there was no appeal. On the contrary, specially selected judge advocates, who were accompanied by a firing squad, could p.r.o.nounce death sentences and have them carried out immediately, without infonning, let alone hearing, the man's commanding officer.

A few weeks later I too was to be confronted with one of these "flying drumhead courts-martial." I had sent one of my best sergeants, the highly decorated leader of an ant.i.tank platoon, to our workshop in the rear, with a couple of drivers, to bring forward some armored tractors that were being repaired. I had told him to put the screws on as we needed the vehicles urgently. He pa.s.sed word to me through a messenger that he would be arriving with the vehicles the following morning. What happened then was told me the next day by one of the drivers. In tears, hardly able to control his voice, he said, "We were sitting together in the evening, after we had made sure that the last vehicles would be finished during the night, in a little inn, eating our day's ration and talking about the future, our homes and all the other things that soldiers talk about. Suddenly the door was pushed, open and in rushed a staff officer with some military policemen. "I am Chief Judge Advocate under the direct orders of Field Marshal Schoemer. Why are you sitting about here while up at the front brave soldiers are risking their lives?"

"My platoon leader replied:"I was ordered by my regimental commander, Colonel von Luck, to bring some armored vehicles that are being repaired here up to the front as quickly as possible.

Work will be going on through the night. We'll be able to go back to the front tomorrow morning."' "The judge advocate:"Where is your movement order?"

"Answer:"I had it from the commander by word of mouth."

"Advocate:"We know about that, that's what they all say when they want to dodge things. In the name of the Fuehrer and by the authority of the commander in chief Army Group Center, Field Marshal Schoemer, I sentence you to death by shooting on account of proven desertion."

"But you can't do that," shouted our platoon leader, "I've been at the front right through the war. Here, look at my medals."

"Advocate:"But now, when it matters and everyone is needed up at the front, you soon decided you'd like to dodge things after all, didn't you? The sentence is to be carried out."

"Then the military police took our platoon leader and shot him in the garden behind the inn." The man could hardly go on.

"We then had to bury him under the supervision of the MPS." Deserters were not allowed to have a cross on their graves.

"After that the advocate disappeared as fast as he had come." Although we were in the middle of an action, I got in touch with divisional HQ, seething with rage, and reported the unbelievable occurrence. I demanded the name of the judge advocate, so that I could prefer a charge against him.

"That will hardly be possible," one of the officers replied.

"Our divisional commander, General Marcks, is in full and complete agreement with Sch.o.e.rner's measures." I was appalled. So we had come to this.

"For G.o.d's sake, one of my best platoon leaders has been shot without further ado and nothing is supposed to happen? I shall make a written report and insist that the judge advocate be found." Military events and the bitter end made it impossible for any amends to be made for a flagrant injustice. My men of the workshop company were at least able to tend the grave properly and put up a cross with name and unit. I informed the parents that their son had unfortunately met a soldier's death "in the performance of his duty." Certainly, there were signs of dissolution, especially where the Russians had overrun our defensive positions and stragglers then tried to escape captivity or get back to their units. The psychological pressure was immense, especially on the old men who had been called up to the Volkssturm, and on the boys of 14 and 15, who were supposed to stop the enemy in close combat with ant.i.tank grenades. None had any expefience; all had only one desire, to save their lives.

Wherever we, and other divisions that were still intact, came upon stragglers, we incorporated them into our own units and gave them fresh support. We too condemned all forms of desertion, which undermined the morale of our men. But anyone who saw the civilian population fleeing in panic, who heard of the maltreatment The Beginning of the End 251 and raping of women, or who listened to the stragglers, whose divisions had lain for hours under a bwtage and then been overrun by the Russians, had to judge differently, more humanely. At any rate, this war was no longer to be won with flying drumhead courtsmartial. The endless slogans and proclamations emanating from Hitler's HQ in the Chancellery bunker in Berlin sounded to us here at the front like sheer mockery.

On 12 February the motorized elements of the division rolled along the Berlin-Breslau highway in the direction of Sapn in Lower Silesia. ()wing to fuel shortage we had to organize a shuttle service. The armored elements came by rail.

In the morning of that day the Russians launched an attack along a wide front and threatened to cross the highway. ele. ments of the "Brandenburg" panzer division had to yield to the pressure. In the morning of 13 February'i moved into the counterattack with a combat group. We were able to free the highway, but were bypa.s.sed in the flank. With further elements of the division that had arrived in the meantime, and with a combat group of the 17th Panzer Division, which was hastily brought up, we managed to hold the enemy for the short term. In the days that followed the Russians made constant attempts to outflank us; our own division was split up into a number of small combat groups.

On 17 February, the Russians succeeded in making a breakthrough, which cut off elements of our division and threatened to destroy them. In this critical situation it was shown yet again what a high value the concepts of comradeship and independent action always have.

Major Hannes Gr.i.m.m.i.n.ger, a battalion commander in our sister Regiment 192, spotted our desperate situation and didn't hesitate for a second. He attached to his own unit the reconnaissance battalion under Major Brandt, which was then just available, as well as a number of our tanks, and at once launched a relieving attack. The Russians were taken completely by surprise and withdrew after suffering losses. The encircled elements were freed.

In March Gr.i.m.m.i.n.ger was given comipand of Regiment 192 and was wounded again. During a short stay in a military hospital at home he received the Oak Leaves to the Knight's Cross, on I I March; on 21 March he married and after his return to the front fell on 16 April, married less than a month. His men buried him in the park of the manor house at Drebkau; our divisional chaplain, Tarnow, delivered the funeral oration. After the war Gr.i.m.m.i.n.ger was transferred to the forest cemetery at Halbe, where 20,000 graves recall the last, hopeless battle.

In spite of the utmost efforts, and the ever-present sight of the desperate refugees, the area round Sagan was no longer tenable. The risk of encirclement for the few intact panzer divisions was too great.

So Schoemer's Army group ordered a withdrawal over the Neisse.

One or two bridgeheads were to be kept open to enable rear guards, stragglers, and civilians to pa.s.s to the west.

The Neisse flows from the mountains of the former Sudetenland, via Goerlitz, due north and into the Oder south of Frankfurt.

The Neisse-Oder line const.i.tuted the last natural barrier before Dresden, the Elbe, and Berlin.

On 20 February the tired and battle-weary men crossed the Neisse north of Goerlitz and at once began to dig in.

From Goerlitz via Guben to the confluence of the Neisse with the Oder, the remnants of a few reliable panzer divisions and stragglers from infantry divisions that had been wiped out were used to set up a new defensive line, in the center of which were the shrunken elements of our own division.

Marshal Koniev at once moved up to the eastern bank of the Neisse; but then he stopped and the only further development was strong patrol activity and battles for our few bridgeheads. As with Marshal Zhukov at Frankfurt and Kuestrin, Koniev appeared to have supply problems.

The Neisse-Oder line would be held like this until the middle of April.

At divisional HQ I received a rough outline of the situation: While the Oder-Neisse line was being consolidated, all areas of Silesia east of the Oder were already in Russian hands. The fortress of Breslau was encircled (it was able to hold out to the end of the war). The important Upper Silesian industrial area east of Gleiwitz was also already in Russian hands.

From Goerlitz our front ran east, pa.s.sing north of Lauban and south of Breslau, and then turned south at Oppelh down to the mountains of the High Tatra. This line was only weakly held and would be unlikely to withstand a vigorous attack on the Czech industrial area at Ostrava in Moravia. This, it seemed, was the very thing that Marshal Koniev was planning.

The Beginning of the End 253 On 15 March 1945, the First Ukrainian Front started an offensive from the area of Upper Silesia southwest of Gleiwitz, which forced our Army group to pull back our front to the former German frontier in the mountains bordering Czechoslovakia, connecting up in the west with the Neisse position at Goerlitz.

THE BATTLE OF LAUBAN At the end of February, Hitler decided to fight through to the fortress of Breslau by means of a major attack from the Lauban area. This operation, I heard later, was to be the prelude to a "spring offensive" that he was planning.

While we gave "Operation Lauban," as we called it among ourselves, a certain chance, the freeing of the fortress of Breslau was to us pure utopia and the idea of a "spring offensive" sheer madness.

Hitler and the High Command of the Wehrmacht were still juggling with divisions that no longer existed or, despite the latest material and the intake of replacements, lacked the fighting strength to be capable of-stopping a far superior enemy effectively. So I was horrified after the battle of Lauban to be given a "stomach and ear battalion" as replacements. This was made up in part of patients with severe stomach trouble, who had been gathered up from military hospitals and from back home, and who were accompanied by a special "diet" catering company.

It was becoming increasingly clear that the last reserves were now being mobilized, to wage the "Total War" to "Final Victory" proclaimed by Goebbels., For the battle of Lauban two tanks corps were placed in readiness, one to the east and one to the west of Lauban, completely unnoticed by the enemy and even by the Volksgrenadiers stationed there, without doubt a fine bit of work by Schoemer and his staff. During the night of I and 2 of March 1945 we attacked. I and my combat group were attached, by Sch.o.e.rner personally, to the lefthand tank corps.

The Russians were utterly surprised by this ma.s.sive attack, supported by 8.8cm ant.i.tank units. In heavy fighting, which lasted until 9 March, Lauban and the important railway line were freed and the Russians driven back far to the north, losing in the process more than 80 T34 tanks and 48 undamaged guns. My own combat group alone managed to knock out about 25 tanks; the rest were dealt with by the 17th Panzer Division. With this the main objective was achieved; but all plans to free Breslau remained illusory, in view of the great superiority of the Russians.

The battle of Lauban was, and remained, the last major German offensive operation of the war, and as such was naturally exploited by Goebbels's propaganda.

For all of us, a terribly depressing experience was to stay forever in our minds. In the villages we recovered, we ourselves saw for the first time how the Russians had rampaged in the past weeks. Never in my life shall I forget the sight of the maltreated, violated women who came to meet us, screaming or completely apathetic. Neither old women nor girls, who were still children, were spared; the houses were plundered, old men were shot.

Faced with these sights we asked ourselves: Was this the revenge for the millions of Russians, including civilians, who had died in the last four years, or been carried off to Germany? Or had instincts been liberated here, as in all the German territories conquered by the enemy, which were uncontrollable? We did not know.

These fearful atrocities had a very depressing effect on all of us, especially on the men who came from the eastern regions. On the other hand, they reinforced our determination to fight all the more grimly now for every square yard and help the civilian population as much as possible in their flight to the west.

After the success at Lauban, I was released by Schoemer in the middle of March and went back with my staff and the remainder of the tanks to our division, which was lying north of Goerlitz in the Neisse position.

There I was confronted with an incident in which my II battalion commander had been involved.

THE STORY OF MAJOR WILLI KURZ While Koniev made strong thrusts in the Goerlitz area, in an attempt to divert attention from his planned major offensive over the Neisse, elements of my division were constantly engaged in counterattacks, in which my II Battalion under Major Willi Kurz was also involved. On one of these operations Kurz was wounded. This. .h.i.t me particularly hard, for Kurz, since the invasion days of June 1944, had been a highly decorated commander admired by all and with whom I had bonds of true friendship.

When I visited him in May 1986 in Ma.s.sa.s.sauga, Toronto, I heard for the first time of his odyssey. Here is his story.

"After various meanderings in ambulances and hospital trains, I ended up, with some other wounded, in the military hospital of Leitmeritz in the Sudetenland. On 8 May 1945, after the Czech The Beginning of the End 255 uprising, we were loaded onto trains again. Meanwhile Krieger (my adjutant for a time-Author) had also arrived among us, wounded. We traveled in the direction of the famous spa of Karlsbad, which was a meeting place of the Russian and American 'spheres of influence."

"We hoped to be taken in by the Americans. But American officers, who were apparently sticking precisely to. the demarcation line agreed with the Russians, forced us to go to Karlsbad in the Russian zone. The Americans seemed to be unaware of the fate to which we were now consigned.

"In Karlsbad there was complete chaos. Three hospital trains were standing in the station with an ammunition train between them. Suddenly fire broke out-in one of the carriages of a hospital train, right by the ammunition train. Those of us-who could'still' stand were able to put out the fire, thank goodness; the Russians just looked on. It was boiling hot and there were no more bandages. Next to me lay a sixteen-year-old boy with legs amputated; his dressings had not been changed for fourteen days. The boy was enduring his pain with the last of his strength in the hope that he might yet end up under American 'protection."

"Our nurses slept between us at night, with huge bandages round their heads to disguise them as wounded soldiers.

"We all stuck close together, though the Russians constantly tried to take away our boots, watches, and other belongings. We received no food from the Russians. The walking cases begged something to eat every day from the civilian population.

Suddenly we hit on the great idea: one of our doctors explained to the Russian commandant that an epidemic had broken out in two of the trains. What was to be done? The Russians got into a panic and sent all three trains to the Americans.

"Thank goodness the commandant in charge appreciated our white lie; nevertheless, he declared our three trains to be an 'open hospital." A precarious situation for us, for armed Czech 'halfsoldiers' were drifting about everywhere, looking for a late revenge for the occupation of their country by Hitler. But all went well. After a few days a column of American trucks arrived and took us to a military hospital in Franzenbad, right on the frontier with Germany. There at last the severely wounded received treatment. I myself was transported after a fortnight to Eger, near Franzenbad, and arrived in an overcrowded POW camp, in which 30,000 men were gathered together in the open air.

"After a few days the loudspeaker suddenly announced: "Major Willi Kurz to report to the gate!" A jeep from the Military Police appeared. "Come on, Major," they said, somewhat brusquely. "We've got to take you for interrogation. Get in!" I had a very uneasy feeling.

"Standing in front of the command building was a young officer.

"Come in!" he said. I still wore all my medals and insignia of rank. On stepping into the large room I saw American officers lined up on either side to form a long aisle, down which I was led to a huge table, at which sat a general and a row of senior officers. A courtmartial, I thought, but what for? As I arrived at the table, the general and his officers stood up.

"'Are you Major Willi Kurz of the 21st Panzer Division?"

"Yes, I am." I still didn't know what was going on.

"Did you belong to Regiment 125 under Colonel von Luck and were you in action at Rittershoffen, in Alsace?"

"'Yes, that is so. They were probably the hardest fourteen days I went through on any front." Were they going to punish me now for Rittershoffen?

"'I am the commanding officer of the 79th U.S. Infantry Division, which fought against you in Rittershoffen; these here are my staff and behind you my officers have formed an aisle in your honor. In the name of all my officers and men, and myself, I should like to show our regard and appreciation for the brave conduct of your men. We owe you our respect."

"I was speechless and struggled to hold back my tears: after the heavy fighting in Rittershoffen and the last difficult months and my wound, now suddenly this great gesture by our enemy. I finally pulled myself together and replied.

"'May I also express our respect for you, General, and your division. We admired your courage and the doggedness with which you defended the villages of Hatten and Rittershoffen, although three of your battalions were encircled at times for days on end. We were particularly impressed by the way you finally managed to disengage, by night, without our noticing. When you had gone, we were all of the opinion that in Rittershoffen there had been no victor and no vanquished. In the morning after your withdrawal, my commander, Colonel von Luck, played a chorale on the undamaged organ of the ruined church, at which our men and the sorely tried civilians were moved to tears."

"'In the next few days," the General resumed, "I should like you The Beginning of the End 257 to talk over with me and my officers how you on the German side conducted the engagement at Rittershoffen, what your problems were, and your tactics. I believe we can learn something from you."

"I was surprised," Willi Kurz ended his account, "with what interest the Americans followed all I had to say, also about the front in Russia. I sat with them for several days and, as one of the wounded, was soon released." It was not until the beginning of 1988 that I received an account of "the Cross of Lorraine," A Combat History of the 79th Infantry Division. This mentions that "when the war in Europe was over, a United Press dispatch, quoted in the New York Times, reported 'the Major Kurz Story."' In 1960, Kurz went to Canada for his firm as a timber salesman, then for a few years to Brazil and back again to Canada, which became his second home.

After our conversation in his pleasant house in Ma.s.sa.s.sauga near Toronto, I saw him for the last time in 1987, a few months before he died, unfortunately, from a heart attack.

Back in March 1945 I was glad that Major Kurz and Captain Krieger had received their "homers", although I greatly missed them with all their experience.

The End At the beginning of April it became increasingly clear that Marshal Koniev would attack frontally over the Neisse, and not toward the southwest.

Sch.o.e.rner, therefore, on his own account, ordered our 2 1 st Panzer Division and the Fuehrerrt division to move to the area of Spremberg Cottbus, that is, about a hundred kilometers south of Berlin on the edge of the take-studded Spree Forest, west of the Neism.

During the night of 12 and 13 April our division rolled north in express troop trains. Owing to the great air superiority of the Russians we could only travel by night. Early on 15 April the first 21 trains arrived in the new combat area; 6 others were on their way. Hitler subsequently authorized this displacement and declared the two divisions to be Army reserves.

From our monitoring service we knew that Zhukov's First White Russian Front had seven armies on the Oder at Kuestrin and two armies at Frankfurt-an-der-Oder, and that Koniev's First Ukrainian Front had six armies opposite our Neisse position.

The relative strength of the Russian and German forces was a.s.sumed to be as follows: infantry, 6:1; artillery, 10:1; tanks, 20:1, air force, 30:1, whereby the German divisions no longer had their former strength and fighting power.

We were not even familiar with the new terrain when, on 16 April, the great Russian offensive began: from five o'clock in the morning the Russians opened ma.s.sive fire from over 40,000 guns on our defensive positions, simultaneously in the Kuestrin area and on the Neisse. Supported by fighter-bombers and bombers, the Russian tank armies moved forward and in the first onslaught broke through our positions.

After that'everything happened very quickly. in an immediate counterattack a dangerous gap opened up between ourselves and the Fuehrerrt division. Strong armored units thrust right into this gap, so that our division was forced away to the north and into a pocket that was forming, which contained the bulk of the 9th Army under General Busse.

The End 259 The weight of the attack split our division, into several parts.

The artillery group lay in the north, no longer far from the outer districts of Berlin. It broke through to Berlin independently a few days later and escaped from the pocket. Our sister Regiment 192 fought in individual combat groups. I had no further contact with them to the bitter end. My own combat group, reinforced by the last tanks under Major von Gottberg, was at once involved in heavy defensive fighting on the right wing, at the very point where the Russian tank armies were now thrusting into the gap between us and the Fuehrer-escort division.

We still had contact with divisional HQ, but clear orders were no longer forthcoming; they had probably lost control. To avoid being taken in the rear and destroyed, I ordered the right wing to bend back with its front to the south. On the evening of 16 April," my defensive front was holding; during the night there was some slackening of combat activity.

Late in the evening, my intelligence officer handed me the telephone receiver, "The divisional commander is on the line."

"Von Luck here." I could say no more, for all I could hear in the receiver was shouting. "Who's there? I can't understand you, please don't bellow so." The shouting continued. I heard something about "court-martial."

"I still don't know who is on the line; speak more quietly." Gottberg, my adjutant, and the orderly officers were already laughing.

"General Marcks here," came a somewhat quieter voice. "Who permitted you to draw back your front?"

"The Russians and the situation on my right wing 'permitted' this adjustment of the front. Please come up here and satisfy yourself personally about the situation. You can't judge the matter from your command post." We commanders knew very well that it was now up to us alone to make decisions and save the lives of our men. Without further comment Marcks hung up.

To find out something about the general situation, of which we knew nothing from division, I decided to go to HQ early the next morning.

The divisional command post was in a sort of manor house. On entering I saw the general-staff officer sitting at a table in the hall.

"Good morning, I should like to speak to the commanding of ficer." Dirty and unshaven I was quite out of place in the elegant surroundings.

"The CO is still asleep," I was told. "Can I help you, Colonel?"

"No," I replied, "after the shouting on the phone last night I must insist on speaking to the CO. I haven't much time, so wake him up." No doubt woken by our loud conversation, our divisional commander appeared on the landing of the first floor-in a nightshirt. I saw him sway slightly. The general-staff officer made an unmistakable gesture, "a few cognacs." It rather shook me that this highly decorated officer was no longer up to the situation psychologically.

"General, I should like to know something personally about the situation of our division and about the situation in general.

Also, I should like to ask you to come to the front with me, so that you can obtain a picture in person of how things look among our people."

"The situation is completely obscure," he replied, "so I must remain here at my command post. As for you, Colonel von Luck, I warn you. You have to fight where you are put. I will not tolerate unauthorized actions."

"General, take note that in the last phase of this war I will make those decisions that I believe to be right." With that I left what was to me a spectral scene.

Far too late, Hitler authorized the withdrawal of the units fighting on the Oder, which were already outflanked on both sides.

The "Halbe pocket" formed the highway triangle, Berlin-Dresden and Berlin-Frankfurt, about 80 kilometers southeast of Berlin.

By the evening of 19 April 1945, the bulk of the 9th Army, including unfortunately, the remains of the 2 1 st Division, which had been forced away to the north, were almost surrounded.

After Krieger had been wounded, Liebeskind was with me again as adjutant. When the fighting had died down that evening, we were sitting, exhausted, in the command post when out of the radio came the bombastic voice of Goebbels. From the Fuehrer's bunker in the center of Berlin we heard, "On the eve of the birthday of our beloved Fuehrer, I call to the German people and our brave soldiers, "Trust the good star, believe in G.o.d and follow our Fiiehrer in the hour of need."' With a reference to the death of Roosevelt, Goebbels then recalled "the power of fate" and drew parallels between Hi tler and Frederick the Great.

The End 261 Rumors were going around in those days" deliberately it seems, that the Western Allies had fallen out with the Soviet Union.

One of Hitler's statements was broadcast, which he was supposed to have made over the radio "... I take responsibility for everything," and "... if the German people cannot achieve victory, then they have no right to survive." This was a bit much. There were cries here and there of, "Turn the thing ofp" and "What good does it do us, our families and ruined cities if Hitler takes responsibility for everything, which no one man can do anyway." We here outside, before the gates of Berlin, knew that now only a miracle could save us from death or captivity.

On 20 April about 360 Russian tanks and double that number of trucks were reported to be on the move behind our backs, northward in the direction of Berlin. From the south, tanks probed my right flank. In the next few days the Russian attack struck us head on and forced me to pull back the front again.

Hitler seemed to have no intention of giving up. We received the announcement that the newly created "Armee Wenck" was now no longer to prevent the advance of the Americans on Berlin, but was to fight to free Berlin and, with our 9th Army under General Busse, which was breaking out of the pocket, stop the Russians.