Soviet Conquest: Berlin 1945

Chapter 1 Spearhead ^{By Marshal of Tank Troops Michael Yefimovitch Katukov}

When Marshal Zhukov prepared his 1st Byelorussian Front for the battle of Berlin, Katukov was the colonel-general commanding the 1st Guards Tank Army. He already had considerable experience of armoured warfare, having been involved in the defence of Moscow, the battle of Kursk and the consequent clearance of the Ukraine, Poland and Eastern Pomerania.

Our army received new vehicles before the storming of Berlin. Apart from that the 11th Tank Corps under General Yushtchuk was attached to us, so that at the beginning of the Berlin operation we had over 854 fit for action. We had not had such a large number of tanks and self-propelled guns throughout the whole war.

As always when preparing for an important operation, the commanders of the brigades conducted daily exercises with officers and soldiers so that above all the cooperation between tanks and self-propelled guns with the infantry, artillery and engineers in attacks on individual strongpoints as well as in street fighting worked well. In this our previous experience was useful.

I worked on exact instructions for the commitment of assault detachments and groups in the streets of Berlin. Great help came from the topographers at Front Headquarters, who made several scale models of the city, of which we obtained one. All members of the assault team – tank troops, infantry and gunners – practised on this model. They pursued every step of their future progress in the streets of the German capital and detected the places where danger especially threatened. Additionally we concentrated on the radio communications and other factors of the forthcoming fighting in the suburbs and centre of Berlin.

The most burdened in the preparations for the Berlin operation were the army’s political organs, which above all had to deal with the new comrades. At meetings in all the detachments, veterans spoke to the young soldiers about the army’s outstanding traditions. We organised political education in the units, meetings for young soldiers with experienced fighters, masters of their skills. Political workers organised performances and speeches on Lenin’s 75th birthday.

On the 5th April the army’s commander-in-chief’s Front staff, the members of the Council of War, the artillery commanders as well as the corps commanders, met for a detailed report on the enemy and to allocate specific tasks to each unit.

While we were fighting in Pomerania, the Anglo-American troops had pushed east without forcing the sixty German divisions opposing them to resist. Although the western front of Fascist Germany had collapsed, the Fascists had not transferred a single division from the Soviet–German front. On the contrary, as our reconnaissance at the end of March/beginning of April had established, they had even transferred nine divisions from the western front to the east, so that now 214 German divisions were in action on the Soviet–German front.

For the defence of Berlin – connected with the Army Groups Weichsel and Mitte – were altogether 48 infantry, 4 Panzer and 10 motorised divisions, as well as a large number of independent brigades, regiments and various reinforcement elements. Altogether defending the approaches to Berlin and the capital were about 1,000,000 men with some 10,000 guns and mortars, 1,500 tanks and self-propelled guns and 2,200 aircraft. The last battles would be severe.

Our troops facing Berlin had over 6,200 tanks and self-propelled guns, over 42,000 guns and mortars with calibres of 76 millimetres and over, and also more than 2.5 million men. 270 guns per kilometre were concentrated on the main line of attack.

A war game on maps and a model of Berlin made it clear to us that the terrain with its partly swampy rivers, brooks, canals and lakes would not only tie down the attacking troops but would wear them out.

There was yet another difficulty for the tank troops, for behind the swampy Oder depression rose the Seelow Heights, as well as a deeply cut railway line running from north to south, yet another serious obstacle.

The enemy had made this area suitable for the coming fighting with great expenditure on numerous concrete pillboxes or earth and wooden bunkers. The whole area and the city itself formed a thorough defensive zone. The enemy’s first defensive positions lay between the Oder and the Seelow Heights, against which we would have to attack the Seelow Heights with our main forces.

A glimpse at the model and the maps showed that in this terrain the variants of a deep breakthrough like those between the Vistula and the Oder could not be repeated. The conditions for a wide tank manoeuvre were lacking. We could only advance step by step to break through the enemy defences with desperate fighting. But the victories our troops had had in previous battles had given us much confidence. No one doubted that we would sweep aside all the fortifications on the way to Berlin.

At the conference that followed the war game Marshal Zhukov decorated me with my second star of ‘Hero of the Soviet Union’ for my participation in the Vistula–Oder Operation. At the Front Headquarters I discovered that Gussakovski had also become a ‘Hero of the Soviet Union’ for the second time. Colonel Semliakov and Lieutenant-Colonel Mussatov were awarded the same title for the first time for undertaking the thrust on Gotenhafen with their troops, thus ensuring the success of the 2nd Byelorussian Front’s operation.

In accordance with a directive of the Front’s Council of War of the 12th April we had to advance to the Küstrin bridgehead on the far side of the Oder and prepare ourselves for insertion into a breach made by Colonel-General Chuikov’s 8th Guards Army. North of us Bogdanov’s 2nd Guards Tank Army would attack in the area Kalenzig–Küstrin. The 5th Shock Army had first to break through the defences for them.

The Front Headquarters’ plan foresaw us using the breakthrough as soon as the 8th Guards Army reached the line Seelow–Dolgelin–Alt Mahlisch, developing the attack in a westerly direction and reaching the eastern suburbs of Berlin on the second day of the operation. Further, a thrust by the army to the southwest was planned to go round the German capital from the south and take its southern and south-westerly suburbs.

The total depth of the Front’s operation was about 160 kilometres; for the 1st and 2nd Guards Tank Armies at most 80 to 90 kilometres each, with the taking of the southern and south-westerly suburbs their goal. The average speed of advance should be 35 to 37 kilometres a day.

According to the Front directive, the main task of the tank armies was clearly the battle for Berlin. With it the possibility of manoeuvre, especially for our army, was limited from the start. From our previous experience all attempts to use tanks in operational depth in built-up areas, particularly large ones, were a lost cause.

After the war many historians concerned themselves with the question whether the high command of the 1st Byelorussian Front had handled things correctly, as it sent the two tank armies against the still-not-tied-down defences in the Seelow Heights area and then finally obliged them to fight in the streets of Berlin.

Yes, an unusual role fell to both the tank armies in the battle for Berlin. They were also unable to separate themselves from the infantry and attain their operational depth. But does that mean that the tank armies were not used properly? One can only assess the selected decision of the high command of the 1st Byelorussian Front correctly if one takes into consideration the conditions and the strategic aim.

According to the decision of the governing heads of the Allied Powers at the conference at Yalta, Berlin belonged to the Red Army’s operational area. But already in April 1945 our high command had learnt from the brisk activity of reactionary circles in the USA and Great Britain that they planned to forestall us and let Anglo-American troops take Berlin.

The Soviet Union on its side feared the conclusion of a separate agreement by the Allies with the Fascist government, which would be contrary to unconditional surrender and would result in an unacceptable post-war situation in Europe. And as documents that were published after the war show, these fears were real. Thus the Soviet government decided to expedite the taking of Berlin to prevent a forced separate agreement.

The attention of our headquarters in the planning of the Berlin operation focused on speed and fierceness of attack to prevent the Fascist high command from manoeuvring its forces. The troops committed against Berlin had the high historical task of putting an end to this last bastion of Fascism. Under these historical conditions the commitment of the 1st and 2nd Guards Tank Armies in the battle of Berlin by the 1st Byelorussian Front was not only proper but also historically justified.

Zhukov’s attack on the Seelow Heights proved to be an unusually poor performance by a man with so many victories to his credit, being little short of a disaster. There were serious defects in the planning, with the unrehearsed use of searchlights in action (intended to increase the hours of daylight to work in), and the failure to identify the strength of the German defences. The worst fault, however, and the point most criticised by Chuikov in the first military account to be approved for publication over ten years later, was the premature introduction of his two tank armies when he was brought under pressure by Stalin for failing to meet his immediate objectives. The battle cost him the equivalent of a tank army in armour and an admitted 33,000 killed. Not only did this battle leave his armies exhausted, it made necessary a hasty revision of his plans for the taking of Berlin.

Zhukov’s slow progress had enabled Koniev to get his own two tank armies to Potsdam, with the southern suburbs of Berlin ahead of them, a fact that an angry Zhukov found incredible. Koniev then left the rest of his army group to his chief of staff to manage while he concentrated on the heavily reinforced 3rd Guards Tank Army’s thrust for the Reichstag, the acknowledged victor’s prize. He was only thwarted in his aim by Chuikov having a shorter route to take, so being able to cross the inter-Front boundary in his path. In this deadly game Stalin kept both his marshals unaware of the other’s actions, so it was only when Koniev’s troops discovered they were attacking Chuikov’s rear that he broke off the action, humiliated in his turn.

According to the order of the Front high command, the 1st Guards Tank Army was to advance during the night of the 16th April into the Alt Mahlisch–Dolgelin–Seelow sector of the bridgehead in which the 8th Guards Army was located.

For one last time I visited the camouflaged units and elements of our army in the woods on the right bank of the Oder with Popiel and Shalin. At short notice our sappers had set up a proper settlement here with little wooden barracks. The political workers had assembled the troops in clearings for political instruction. Mechanics were checking the readiness of the tanks for battle.

Finally I checked over Shalin’s plan for the crossing of the troops and their deployment on the west bank. Then I drove with Nikitin across to the bridgehead. The torn-up road was strewn with poplars. Explosions were still going on. Starlings, startled by the noise, flew screaming over the tops of the trees. Roadside ditches and shell craters stood full of water. Although the hard rules of war seemed to have overcome everything, nature continued its own, independent life that demanded its rights in its own territory.

In the bridgehead on the Oder swarmed a great throng like that some time ago on the Vistula. The roads were completely blocked by the 8th Guards Army. Everywhere one came across trenches and bunkers. Equipment or boxes of ammunition lay under every bush. Fortunately our aircraft ruled the air. A massive blow by Fascist aircraft would have caused heavy casualties.

Chuikov was pacing up and down in his command post.

‘How is it going with the breakthrough? Can you make it in time?’ I asked.

‘Breakthrough here, breakthrough there.’ The army commander bit his lower lip. ‘Taking these damned heights on the move is just about impossible. Just see what the Germans have constructed.’

Chuikov rolled out on the table several large aerial photographs of the Seelow Heights, on which one could clearly see the dense net of rifle, communication and anti-tank trenches. Rows of dark spots we could identify without difficulty as tank pits, steep slopes and places. Especially numerous were the gullies cutting through the Heights from east to west.

‘Yes, it won’t be easy to take these heights,’ I agreed. ‘Until the infantry reach the crest, the tanks can do nothing.’

‘It’s particularly difficult,’ Chuikov went on concernedly, ‘we can’t see the positions from down here. Our artillery can’t conduct any aimed fire. And hitting the positions with only anti-aircraft gunfire will be difficult.’

It had been obvious to us for a long time that these last battles would be difficult, and the talk with the Army commander-in-chief reinforced me in this opinion. The enemy knew that the fate of Berlin hung from the beginning on the battle on the Oder.

On the night leading to the 16th April the army crossed under cover of darkness to the west bank and pressed itself literally into its allocated sector of the bridgehead. In accordance with Marshal Zhukov’s plan, the attack was due to begin at night. The Front commander-in-chief had decided to blind the enemy with searchlights. I had taken part in an exercise a few days before when the searchlights were tested. It was an impressive display.

At 0500 hours on the 16th April the ear-splitting explosions of thousands of guns began the last decisive attack by our troops on the German capital. The droning in the heavens of the engines of our bombers was ceaseless. After the artillery preparation, 140 searchlights were switched on. The Oder valley lay under a bluish light. The painful din of thousands of exploding shells and aircraft bombs was so dense that even the strong anti-aircraft searchlights could not get through.

Chuikov’s infantry went into the attack. They took the first positions across no-man’s-land quickly, but as the divisions approached the second strip the heavy fire caused their progress to slow down. The breakthrough did not succeed.

Chuikov ordered another artillery preparation. Like arrows the shots of the Katiushas joined in, the wave of fire rolling over the heights. Immediately afterwards the infantry and tanks attacked, our bombers and fighters joining in.

The attackers came under heavy fire from the heights. Only towards Dolgelin were the infantry able to force their way into the second line of defence. But the enemy deployed a fresh motorised division, the Kurkmark, out of his reserves and pushed our infantry back into the valley.

Everywhere the enemy was conducting a bitter resistance. As our air reconnaissance established, he was bringing his second echelon into the battle. Apart from this, two motorised divisions were approaching the Seelow Heights on our main line of attack, and two further divisions were on the march from the Schwedt area.

‘It’s hardly believable. The enemy is sending reserves into action during the fight for the second line of defence,’ commented Shalin on the situation. ‘There, look.’ He passed me a leaflet. It was an appeal by the commander of an SS tank corps to his soldiers. It said that the ‘beloved Führer’ had declared on the 12th April that Germany now had, as never before, a real chance to stop the advance of the Red Army, that Germany had vast amounts of artillery and tanks at its disposal. All requirements had been met for the coming battle of Titans on the Oder that would bring about a change in the war.

A call over the radio telephone line interrupted our talk. I recognised the well-known voice of the Front commander. He gave the surprising order that before the enemy resistance had been completely broken, the 1st Guards Tank Army was to enter the battle and complete the breakthrough of the tactical defence zone with the 8th Guards Army.

I was not enchanted with the idea of setting our vehicles against the still unsuppressed nests of fire, although I saw that the marshal could not decide otherwise under the circumstances. After nine hours of ceaseless attacks Chuikov had only been able to penetrate a few sections of the second line of defence. The whole of the Front’s attack operation was threatening to collapse. Apart from this it would be to our advantage if the enemy brought his reserves from Berlin up into the open ground where one could defeat them more easily on the Seelow Heights than in the city’s streets.

I immediately ordered all three corps to deploy in the bridgehead. I sent the 11th Tank Corps under General Yushtchuk to the right wing, in the centre [was] the 11th Guards Tank Corps under Colonel Babadshanian, and on the left wing General Dremov’s 8th Mechanised Guards Corps. However, the manoeuvrability of the tanks was so limited by the narrowness of the bridgehead, the numerous ditches and minefields, that it was not possible to get the army’s main forces into action simultaneously.

From my observation post I could see Babadshanian’s tanks manoeuvring between shell holes and ditches before they could attack. As they could not overcome the steep slopes of the Seelow Heights, they had to seek the narrow ways through under especially heavy fire.

The remainder of the day brought no happy news. With great difficulty and heavy losses the tank troops had bitten into the defences, but were unable to push forward from positions occupied by the infantry. The rifle divisions operating closely with the tank corps also had a hard time of it.

I was working with my staff in a narrow rifle trench. The saturated ground splashed under my feet. Apart from Shalin, I met Sobolev, the chief scout.

‘How’s it going for the enemy?’ I asked.

‘They are defending themselves like the devil. One division is holding on the average a 5 kilometre wide sector. Thus a battalion has only 800 metres of front.’

‘That’s quite a lot. Formerly the Fascists usually defended sectors of 15 kilometres. And how many reserves have you established?’

‘Until now eight divisions, of which five are motorised and one armoured. Apart from that there are about 200 Volkssturm battalions in Berlin, many anti-aircraft gun elements and various special units.’

With good cover they were actually in a position to conduct a serious defence. But how could we avoid unnecessary losses? This question occupied the whole of my time.

Shalin unfolded an aerial photograph and a large-scale map. It seemed to me that the ground north of Seelow was more suitable for tanks and that the defence there was less than that on the Heights.

‘Certainly,’ agreed Shalin. ‘To attack a sector like the present one makes less sense.’

‘One must give the units on the right flank more artillery and air support, and break through in that direction. If that works we can commit the whole army.’

It was only at the end of the 17th April that Babadshanian reported that his brigades had completed the breakthrough of the second line of defence with the cooperation of the infantry, and had pushed on. Over the radio I ordered Dremov to leave behind a brigade as security, but to send his main forces through the breach created by Babadshanian and to support him in the development of the success. I also sent Boiko’s 64th Guards Tank Brigade into the same breach with two self-propelled artillery regiments and other units.

But the enemy deployed fresh forces into the threatened area from the left flank. Babadshanian fell into a difficult situation, as he now had to repel counterattacks on his left flank on top of meeting frontal assaults. I reinforced Boiko’s brigade with artillery as well as a mortar unit, and charged him with repelling the attacks on his left wing with infantry and tanks. I was certain that this energetic and resourceful commander would fulfil his task. In fact he reliably secured Babadshanian’s flanks and caused the enemy attack to fail.

The 11th Guards Tank Corps commanded by General Yushtchuk was able to advance somewhat faster, its units being able to penetrate 10 kilometres into this area against a considerably weaker defence. In the same area General Berzarin’s 5th Shock Army was able to advance about 10 kilometres further north.

On the 18th April the fighting for the Seelow Heights reached its crisis. The enemy kept throwing in new divisions, Volkssturm units and tank-hunting commandos of the Hitler Youth. Anti-aircraft gun batteries on the tanks’ line of advance caused considerable difficulties. With the enemy literally climbing out of his deep trenches, having silenced his concrete firing positions as well as fixed tank turrets and dug-in tanks, our tank troops advanced at the most only 4 kilometres per day on the 17th and 18th April.

I had General Krupski, commander of the air corps, in my command post constantly with me. As soon as a commander reported that in this or that map square he had come across a strong defensive position, I immediately informed the general. He then had his pilots fly to the hotly disputed point. These air strikes were effective. That our troops were able to break through the defences on the Seelow Heights in one or two days was without doubt Krupski’s airmen’s greatest service. Together with the ground troops, they smashed breaches in the mighty defensive system.

Meanwhile the units of the 1st Guards Tank Army pushed forward unstoppably in close cooperation with General Chuikov. Babadshanian’s corps going around Seelow from the north helped the infantry to clear the enemy out of the town on the evening of the 17th April. Our headquarters then deployed to the edge of the town. The main and side streets were blocked with vehicles, tanks and self-propelled artillery. The enemy artillery still shelled the town and there were air battles, but Seelow was in our hands. As Babadshanian reported, there was some hard fighting at Müncheberg, halfway between Seelow and Berlin. The SS people fought despairingly, the town changing hands three times. Members of the motorcycle battalion commanded by Lieutenant Baikov captured thirty-eight intact aircraft on the airfield near Müncheberg.

During the course of the first four days of the attack the 1st and 2nd Guards Tank Armies were engaged primarily in the immediate support of the infantry. Today, now that all the details of the fighting for the Seelow Heights are known, one knows that the Front command made a series of errors, particularly in the underestimation of the strength of the Seelow Heights’ two defensive strips. During the course of our attack we detected that the enemy had put his main effort into the defence of the Seelow Heights. Because of this the Fascist high command had withdrawn a large part of its forces and resources from the forward strips in this area. Consequently, the Front’s troops, instead of thrusting forward, had to work their way slowly through the defensive positions.

At the same time our thrust forward was complicated because the left flank remained open as our troops got nearer to Berlin. To our left, moreover, was the strong enemy group at Frankfurt an der Oder. Shalin had reported having received from the reconnaissance the alarming report that the Fascists had concentrated about 100,000 men near Frankfurt, thus having considerable forces for an attack on our flanks.

We had vainly hoped that the advancing troops of the 1st Ukrainian Front would hit the Frankfurt group further left of the 1st Byelorussian Front. However, they had not yet reached the area, so Dremov had to split his forces. While his brigades pressed forward as before on Berlin’s outer defensive ring, they constantly had to fight off attacks from the flanks. The enemy fought so bitterly that the elements that we had committed to the development of the thrust on Berlin had to be deployed on the left flank and brought into the battle. In doing so the forces of the 1st Guards Tank Army were weakened because of the 11th Guards Tank Corps having to support the 5th Shock Army after the breakthrough.

The counterattack eased off. If this continued, an appreciable thrust by the Mechanised Corps could not be counted on. Something must have happened. I briefed Zhukov on the situation by telephone and asked him to send us any kind of troops to cover our left flank and release Dremov’s corps. Zhukov did not reply immediately. Apparently he was looking for a solution: ‘There is a cavalry corps in my reserves. I will give the order immediately. The cavalry will come to you. And another thing: Guard your flanks firmly on your advance. Otherwise it will go badly not only for your army but for the rest of the Front’s troops.’

The cavalry corps did not keep us waiting long. A little later it relieved the flanks of the engaged brigades of the Mechanised Corps and markedly improved their situation. The troops of the 1st Ukrainian Front were approaching the outer defensive ring of Berlin with us, so that we were able to make contact with the advancing 3rd Guards Tank Army of General Rybalko.

On the evening of the 20th April Army Headquarters received the following telephone message from the Front Commander:

As ordered, I entrusted the best brigades of our army, the 1st and the 44th, with this task. The way to the German capital led through woods on the one road flanked by a chain of lakes. In the burning woods the smoke made breathing and visibility difficult. Everywhere lurked carefully camouflaged guns and hidden soldiers with Panzerfausts. Marching infantry at the head of the brigades destroyed these obstacles, finally opening the way to Berlin for the tanks.

In the night leading to the 21st April the brigades covered 25 kilometres via Erkner and opened the battle for the outer defensive ring of the German capital. Babadshanian’s corps went round Karlshorst, while Dremov thrust into Köpenick with Chuikov’s infantry. Simultaneously Bogdanov’s tank-men and Bersarin’s infantry broke through the northern suburbs.

During the fighting for Erkner, Babadshanian reported by telephone: ‘I have some Japanese here, Comrade Commander-in-Chief.’

‘What kind of Japanese, then? Where do they come from?’ I asked, not understanding.

‘They are apparently diplomats from the Japanese Embassy in Berlin.’

‘Bring them here.’

One hour later the whole diplomatic mission appeared at my command post, repeatedly bowing and smiling. From their appearance they were uncertain whether we would receive them in a friendly manner. Added to this was the anxiety that they had felt in crossing the front line. One diplomat, a man of medium size, declared in painful Russian that they were members of the Japanese Embassy and had decided to seek protection and assistance from the Russian high command.

‘We want to go back to our home country,’ he concluded.

Although I was not inclined to be helpful to representatives of a country allied to our enemy, I saw that to avoid diplomatic complications I was obliged to provide a means of transport for these refugees and send them on to the Front Headquarters.

During the fighting in Berlin later I experienced a further ‘diplomatic’ incident. Gussakovski’s brigade had broken through cellars and passages to a building from which German machine-gunners were firing. The tank-men came across cases of Brambach mineral water in the cellars of these buildings. Hot and thirsty from the fighting, they emptied several bottles. As it later transpired, this mineral water belonged to the embassy of a neutral state, whose employees had nothing better to do than write us a formal letter of protest. I could not understand these diplomats that would not even allow our soldiers some bottles of mineral water while they were risking their lives in the battle against the Fascists.

The fighting flared up on the German capital’s outer defensive ring. We had to overcome a whole system of fire nests, bunkers, obstacles, barricades and booby traps in a storm of fire. We passed minefields and barricades in an area in which the enemy had prepared every building for defence.

Our sappers had it particularly difficult. As the Fascists had destroyed all the bridges in their retreat, we were obliged to construct crossing facilities over numerous rivers, lakes and canals.

But nothing could shatter the attacking spirit of our soldiers. All attempts by the Fascists to scare them remained unsuccessful, as also did this leaflet: ‘You are not far from Berlin, but you will never enter our capital. Berlin has 600,000 buildings and every one of them is a fortress that will become your grave.’ But the wind scattered the leaflets and, as every day passed under the mighty blows from our troops, the alleged claim that Berlin was unobtainable was further reduced.

How many Soviet soldiers had dreamed that the war would end in Berlin, and for how many was this dream unfulfilled! But now the Reich capital was within reach. The distances on the kilometre stones and the signposts became ever less. At a crossroads I read, hastily written in chalk, ‘To the Reichstag 15 km.’ But what kilometres!

In Berlin there were over 500 strongpoints in various buildings. They covered themselves mutually with fire and were connected by passages to points of resistance, defensive positions, strips and sectors. We virtually had to take a fortress with 300,000 defenders. Elite Fascist units and a Hitler fanatic element of the population were defending the city. Berlin then embodied for us Fascism in all its bestiality. Our soldiers and officers were only animated by one wish: to put an end to this once and for all, that which had inflicted so much pain on our people.

As was reported to me, many of the lightly wounded were secretly creeping away from the field hospitals in order to participate in the last of the fighting. I understood them only too well. Who did not want to participate in the storm on the German capital?

I worked my way up to Köpenick with an operational team late at night. The enemy was shelling this part of the city ceaselessly to prevent a concentration by our troops. Before us lay the last water obstacle: the Spree River. Would the scouts be able to take the bridge in time? On the 23rd April Dremov’s command post was in the cellar of a half bombed-out house right on the bank of the Spree. The corps commander looked tired. He reported that the bridge had been blown. A newly formed special detachment had forced the river in order to cover the sappers constructing a crossing point.

‘Now we want to shell the opposite bank.’ he went on. ‘The Fascists over there are unbelievably stubborn, firing with everything they have got. One can hardly lift one’s nose, those devils are so persistent – presumably SS.’

Dremov went to the field telephone and exchanged a few words with a gunner. Shortly afterwards the explosions increased. I went up to one of the cellar windows. On the opposite bank walls were collapsing in clouds of dust. There were fires everywhere and a thick cloud of smoke was climbing into the sky. The explosions left Dremov unmoved. He displayed no feelings but fought soberly and without risks. For him the war was an everyday matter and even the unbelievable performance of his Guardsmen he reported as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

Covered in dust and breathless, a lieutenant burst into the cellar. Uncertain as to whom he should report, he looked from Dremov to me.

‘Comrade Commander-in-Chief,’ he said finally, ‘allow me…?’

‘OK. Go on.’

‘The 19th Mechanised Guards Brigade has forced the Spree.’

Dremov and I looked at each other.

‘Where and at what point?’ I asked.

‘Over the railway bridge a bit north of Adlershof.’

That was good news. I immediately ordered part of the corps to set off for the railway bridge, the remainder to cross by the bridge that the sappers had built. In this way almost all the units of the 1st Guards Tank Army could cross the Spree and reach the Schöneweide–Adlershof area.

‘The bridge will be ready in two or three hours and we can get over,’ assured Dremov.

During the night of the 24th April the 1st Guards Tank and 8th Guards Armies crossed the Spree, reached the Adlershof–Bohnsdorf area and occupied favourable positions for their further attack on the city centre from the southeast. Then we could make contact with the 1st Ukrainian Front’s 3rd Guards Tank Army.

So began the street fighting in Berlin. As mentioned, we had previously attacked in Chuikov’s army’s sector. He had been put in overall charge by Zhukov. As the situation within the city was now different, I asked the Marshal to allocate the 1st Guards Tank Army its own line of attack. Zhukov agreed, but ordered that I hand over the 64th Independent Guards Tank Brigade and the heavy self-propelled artillery to the 8th Guards Army. They remained with the 8th Guards Army until the capitulation of Berlin.

Our attack axis led to Wilhelmstrasse, running parallel to the Tiergarten, not far from the Reichs Chancellery and the Reichstag.

A great obstacle for us were the Panzerfaust men shooting our tanks into flames from their secure hiding places in the sewers and cellars. But the Fascists had not reckoned on these weapons being turned against their originators. During the East Pomeranian operation we had captured 4,500 Panzerfausts, of which about 1,500 had been used on exercise in the preparation for Operation Berlin. The troops learned how to use them in assault teams. We had kept back the remaining 3,000 Panzerfausts for the fighting in Berlin. Now we put these weapons to use successfully in the streets of Berlin. While machine-pistol soldiers could not be smoked out of buildings themselves, the Red Army soldiers worked on the enemy with their Panzerfausts and set the buildings on fire with several shots. Then our guardsmen attacked.

The majority of the important enemy strongpoints were found in big, old buildings whose masonry withstood the tank guns and artillery. When I asked Marshal Zhukov for stronger artillery to deal with these apparently indestructible buildings, he sent me a detachment of 305 millimetre guns. In former times these were known as the 12-inch siege artillery.

When these vast guns went into action the situation improved immediately. One or two 305 millimetre shells were sufficient to destroy an old building and bury the occupants under the rubble.

Berlin was bitterly defended. Every building received us with a hail of fire. Not only the tank-men and the infantry had it difficult, but also the staff officers in their command posts, while the corps and brigade commanders following their troops on foot were attacked time and time again. Again and again Fascists appeared out of side streets, even in apparently cleared streets, armed with submachine-guns and Panzerfausts. Quite often they came under the fire of German artillery or were attacked from the air.

On the 23rd April I received the order from Marshal Zhukov to form a special team for the taking of the Adlershof and Tempelhof airfields. As our reconnaissance had reported, the private aircraft of the Fascist high command and the Nazi party, including also Hitler’s aircraft, were located here ready for flight. To take Adlershof did not appear too difficult, as it was about 4 kilometres from the front line on our line of attack. It was more difficult to work our way forward to Tempelhof airfield as it was practically in the centre of the city, only a few kilometres from the Reichs Chancellery.

Dremov, whom I consulted, suggested I delegate Major Grafov’s independent reconnaissance battalion to take Adlershof. The battalion commander had recently distinguished himself in the fighting at Erkner and had been recommended for decoration as a Hero of the Soviet Union. I knew the major as a bold soldier and approved Dremov’s suggestion.

The most difficult part of the task, the breakthrough to Tempelhof and the conquest of the airfield, was voluntarily taken over by the 23-year-old major and battalion commander V.A. Zhukov, a veteran of the 1st Guards Tank Brigade, who had repeatedly participated in reconnaissance raids and proved himself a resourceful commander. The reconnaissance teams would destroy aircraft found on the ground and hold the position until the main forces arrived. We reckoned that in the confusion of battle and under cover of darkness the tank soldiers and riflemen would be able to get there unnoticed, at least for part of the way. The scouts then studied the city map.

At about 0100 hours our sappers, protected by heavy artillery fire, erected a crossing point over the Spree. The first to cross was Grafov’s battalion. An hour later the scouts reached their goal safe and sound, surprised Adlershof airfield and destroyed seventy aircraft. When the battalion then came under enemy fire and was engaged by superior forces, Temnik’s and Anfimov’s brigades came to their help.

The situation was more difficult for Major Zhukov. He led his men to the Teltow Canal, crossed it fighting and reached the airfield from the southern side. Meanwhile Grafov had also got close to the airfield. Once both battalions had united on the airfield, the enemy had also become aware and sent tanks and motorised infantry against them. For two whole days the reconnaissance teams repelled numerous attacks by overwhelming forces on the airfield until our troops came to their rescue. Zhukov lost his life in this action.

We tore the enemy out of one suburb after another. At 1030 hours on the 24th April the following radio message was received from the commander of the motorcycle regiment, Mussatov: ‘Have reached the suburb of Teltow. Have met Rybalko’s tank troops. Mussatov.’

I hastened to pass on this pleasing news to the Front commander-in-chief.

‘Are you sure?’ he said.

‘I have even received a radio message from our regimental commander.’

‘Check the information immediately on the spot.’

I despatched several staff officers to the given area. They not only confirmed Mussatov’s message but brought back further good news. Advance detachments of General Leliushenko’s 4th Guards Tank Army had already approached Potsdam and were in contact with our 47th Army and 2nd Guards Tank Army. Thus both Fronts, the 1st Byelorussian and the 1st Ukrainian, were closing the ring around the German capital. Apart from this, the main forces of the Frankfurt group – the 9th German Army and the 4th German Panzer Army – were now cut off from Berlin and surrounded in the woods southeast of the city. Another few days and Berlin would fall. No one doubted that the capitulation of the German capital would end the war.

Primarily, however, the Fascist leadership was trying to fight its way out of being surrounded. Dremov’s men were involved in heavy fighting at the Anhalter railway station. At his command post the news reached me of the severe wounding of the commander of the 1st Guards Brigade, Colonel Temnik, who died next day in an army hospital.

Usually the sappers and infantry cleared the way for the tanks. Attempts to commit the tanks without cover merely led to high losses from artillery fire and Panzerfaust men. As the brigades only had a limited number of infantry for their protection, the tank soldiers had to clear the way themselves. In narrow streets, however, only two tanks could advance at the same time. The first opened fire, being covered by the second. Thus metre by metre our Guardsmen smashed a breach in the dense enemy defences.

As the ranks of our infantry and sappers had suffered so much, Temnik assembled the members of his staff and ordered them to arm themselves with machine-pistols. He put himself at the head of the assault team he had formed. For a whole hour the brigade commander fought like a common soldier. No sooner had a housing quarter been cleared of the enemy than a mine exploded. Wounded by a splinter in his lower body, Temnik was taken to hospital, but all aid proved unsuccessful. We buried Temnik in the vicinity of the Reichstag building where today the memorial for the Soviet soldiers who died in the last battle stands.

I had seen many comrades die during the Great Fatherland War, and suffered deeply from every new loss. One does not get accustomed to death. Who can forget all those who are no longer with us?

Towards noon on the 25th April the Berlin group, consisting of six divisions of the 9th German Army, an SS-guards brigade, several police units, ten artillery divisions, an anti-aircraft division, a self-propelled artillery brigade, three tank-hunting brigades, six anti-tank artillery brigades as well as several Volkssturm battalions, was completely surrounded. All these units and troop elements were supported by the inhabitants.

Our troops involved in the capital – the 47th Army, 3rd and 5th Shock Armies, 8th Guards Army, part of the 28th Army and the 1st, 2nd, 3rd and 4th Guards Tank Armies – considerably outnumbered the enemy in strength. To every reasonably thinking statesman it would have been obvious that further resistance was futile and would only lead to further unnecessary casualties and destruction. But Hitler sought fanatically to extend the Reich’s fight to the death.

Our soldiers and commanders knew that the war was coming to an end. Everyone wanted to survive, to witness the end of the war. But also in these hours no Guardsman took care to spare his life. Without regard for the death lurking step by step in the street fighting, they all fought on determinedly obstinate and bold.

On the morning of the 27th April, as I was on my way to the 11th Guards Tank Corps command post, the writer Michail Bragin appeared. ‘Take me to the command post with you?’ he asked after a short chat.

‘For a writer it is senseless driving there where things are hot,’ I said, trying to talk him out of it. But as he remained stubborn about accompanying me, I finally agreed. The way was not so far, but there could not have been more damned a street. From everywhere shells, mortars and bullets roared and whistled over our heads. Nevertheless we eventually got to our destination. Among the staff of the 11th Guards Tank Corps, which was located in the cellar of a former office building, we met the chief of staff, Colonel Vedenitshev, a veteran of the 1st Guards Tank Army. I had experienced so many dangerous situations together with him. Before we could greet each other, dust fell on our heads. German aircraft had attacked the building.

‘Damn it, leave me in peace!’ swore Vedenitshev. ‘Every ten minutes three or four aircraft fly over and bomb just this building. They have surely heard that our staff is in the cellar. We must find another place to stay straight away.’

Several minutes later the duty officer reported that five men had been killed in the attack and two guns of the anti-aircraft artillery had been damaged. Straight afterwards there was another hefty explosion. The shock was so great that the cellar shook and we were thrown to the ground. Filing cabinets, shelves and dust fell on us. We could only free ourselves with difficulty. We looked at one another and brushed the dust off each other. Fortunately it seemed no one was hurt. But our faces were so black that our teeth shone unnaturally white. A bomb had broken through the thick masonry and had exploded in a neighbouring cellar. We would probably not have got off so lightly had not the filing cabinets protected us. We now discussed why the enemy was constantly bombarding this building so precisely. His determination seemed suspicious.

‘There must be an aiming point here somewhere,’ said Vedenitshev. ‘The Germans know there are headquarters here. Order the building to be searched.’

Several soldiers set off immediately to search every corner of the extensive cellars. Behind an out of the way partition they eventually found a German civilian with a radio. From his interrogation we discovered that he was the deputy director of this establishment and a member of the Nazi Party. He had been directing the aircraft here from his hiding place by radio.

Vedenitshev unfolded a map of Berlin. Red arrows pointed to important railway junctions. The 29th Guards Rifle Corps was fighting with the 11th Guards Corps in a quarter bordering this area.

‘Here,’ Vedenitshev pointed to the map, ‘the remains of the Müncheberg Panzer Division are defending themselves. Apart from them there are also Volkssturm people engaged.’

Vedenitshev had to interrupt his speech when, as smart as ever, noisily and impetuously, every inch of compressed energy, Babadshanian burst in.

‘How is it, Arno? It seems to be somewhat hot here!’

‘That is not the point, Comrade Commander-in-Chief. All hell is let loose. The Fascists are behaving frantically today. They have counterattacked five times. And what have they not offered. Youths, still half children, and old men! Things are bad for Hitler!’

‘We’ll talk about Hitler later. How does it look with you?’

‘All attacks have been repelled. We are advancing. But the barriers and barricades in the streets give us much to do. Neither tanks nor guns can get through. The sappers cannot get to the barriers because of the firing. But Chuikov’s men have given us some practical assistance by smoking out the vermin with flamethrowers.’

Despite all these difficulties, the 11th Guards Tank Corps, together with the 29th Guards Rifle Corps, took the railway junction, and the corps staff moved up closer to the leading troops.

In these days the Fascists fought not only on the ground and in the air but especially underground. Although we knew there was an underground railway in the city, in the heat of battle we either forgot or simply underestimated the military significance of the underground connections. These, however, gave the Fascists excellent manoeuvrability. By means of the U-Bahn they were able to conduct attacks on troops that had already thrust into the centre of the city.

Consequently we controlled more strongly than before the city areas already cleared of the enemy. For this we used the self-propelled artillery brigade under Semliakov, who had won the title Hero of the Soviet Union at Gotenhafen. The members of his brigade, which also belonged to the reserve, patrolled the streets, kept order and forestalled treacherous enemy machinations.

There were goods trains standing on the captured railway lines. Our patrolling soldiers soon discovered what they were carrying. The inhabitants were taking sacks of flour from the wagons. To prevent looting, Semliakov ordered the trains to be guarded so that the flour could be distributed among the Berliners later.

Slowly but surely the Red Army troops were closing in on the city centre. On the 27th April only a kilometre separated the 8th Guards Army and our army from the Tiergarten, the final goal of our attack. The fighting now blazed up in the part of the city in which the most important authorities of Fascist Germany, the city’s defence headquarters and Hitler’s bunker, could be found. The enemy forces now occupied an area 3 to 5 kilometres wide and 16 kilometres long, lying under ceaseless attacks from our artillery and aircraft. In addition, the enemy had lost both his aerodromes – Adlershof and Tempelhof. However, the reserve landing strip on the Charlottenburger Chaussee found itself under the special control of our 16th Air Army.

Although the situation for the Berlin garrison was hopeless, the Fascists continued to hit out with the courage of despair.

In the heat of the fighting it was impossible to record all the acts of bravery by the soldiers and officers of the 1st Guards Tank Army. Only later, as I went through the political advisers’ reports from the brigades and units, did I get the full picture of the moving stories of many tank-men, riflemen and gunners who had won eternal fame by their deeds. These reports resurrected the fighting in Berlin in all its details. Many pages dealt with the clever handling of our riflemen opening the way for the tanks through the labyrinth of destroyed streets.

The machine-gun team under Sergeant Kolesnikov had fought with exemplary courage. The sole survivor of this team, Private Kudriashov, reported: ‘Towards midday on the 29th April the Germans assembled in a building at most 50 metres from us. Apparently they thought that the right wing of our rifle battalion was exposed and wanted to fall on our rear. We sat back in ambush and lay in wait until the Fascists advanced. When they were about 30 metres from us we opened fire. The Fascists ran about and left numerous dead in front of our position.

‘Thinking of the Guards’ rule of changing position as soon as the enemy have identified you, we took the machine-gun to another part of the building. The Fascists prepared to attack again, first throwing a grenade into the building, but we remained silent. Then, as the Fascists came across to our side, we fired everything in the belt, many Germans thus losing their lives. As Kolesnikov and the ammunition carrier had fallen in this fighting, I jammed myself behind the machine-gun and fired until the ammunition ran out. Still the Germans came on towards our position. I had only six hand grenades. Suddenly I saw how our wounded commander got up, stuck a hand grenade in his pocket, left cover and went towards the Fascists. They thought that the Soviet soldiers were surrendering, so held their fire for a second. Lying behind the silent machine-gun I saw Kolesnikov, carefully putting one leg before the other, his hand pressed to his breast, and going on towards the enemy. Several seconds later three Fascists came round a corner to cut him off. My heart threatened to stop. At the same moment there was an explosion. Before the Fascists could come to grab the wounded commander they flew into the air. Kolesnikov also died this way.’

This already historical political office report moved me deeply. Again and again I came across further pages of incidents showing the devotion of our soldiers towards the Party, the Soviet people and their Guards’ banners.

The following lines are dedicated to Sergeant Prishimov, a brave man who deserves a place next to heroes like Lavrinenko, Samochin, Burda and Podgorbunski. Used to completing the most difficult and responsible tasks, he carried out reconnaissances and brought back prisoners. As an armoured unit was approaching a railway station, he fell into the enemy drumfire. The tank-men stopped and fired. But they had to go on, not wanting to be shot up themselves. Guards Sergeant Prishimov went off with his own men to find out where the enemy artillery was firing from. As they were working their way forward along the rails, he saw an enemy tank that seemed to be directing the fire. Unnoticed, the sergeant was able to enter the tank and kill the crew. Then he turned the gun around and fired at a nearby enemy fire nest. Our tank-men used the situation to push forward into the railway station and took it almost without casualties.

But let us return to the fighting in the centre of Berlin. During the last days of April the Fascist high command feverishly tried to relieve the city. Three groups tried to fight their way through to the capital and help the besieged garrison: from the north, General Steiner; from the west, General Wenck; and from the south-east the Frankfurt–Guben group. But all three were defeated or destroyed.

Already on the 25th April the 1st Ukrainian Front’s 5th Guards Army under General Shadov and the 1st American Army had met up, thus splitting the territory of Fascist Germany and its forces in two. The Berlin garrison’s situation was catastrophic.

What involved my tank soldiers was the complete clearing of the Anhalter railway station on the 28th April by Babadshanian’s corps in cooperation with the 5th Shock Army’s 9th Rifle Corps.

Dremov’s corps together with units of the 8th Guards Army thrust in a south-westerly direction towards the 3rd Shock Army, which had reached the grounds of the Reichstag.

On the evening of the same day a call from Front Headquarters warned me about shooting at the Reichstag, which elements under Colonel-General Kusnetzov had already reached. We were sorry not to have had the honour of raising the victory banner over the Reichstag, but at the same time rejoiced over every step taken by our comrades that brought us closer to victory.

On the 29th April I gave Dremov the task of taking the Zoological Gardens in cooperation with elements of the 8th Guards Army. Babadshanian had the Potsdamer Platz railway station and the Reichs Chancellery to take. Both corps were to combine with elements of Kusnetzov’s and Bogdanov’s armies. From the upper storey of a half-destroyed building, where my command post was located, one could already see the Brandenburg Gate, where we would meet up with our fighting colleagues. Wide areas of the city were visible from this command post, which took several hours to tidy up. However, as thick smoke generally covered the whole area, we had to move our command post closer to the Zoological Gardens.

Shalin, Nikitin and General Frolov, chief of our army’s artillery, got no rest. While Frolov constantly had to allocate new targets to his artillery, Shalin and Nikitin had their hands full issuing orders and instructions.

On the 29th April, when the army headquarters moved closer to the Zoological Gardens, I received a report from the 19th Mechanised Guards Brigade fighting in Urbanstrasse, which ran towards the Zoological Gardens. As one of the brigade’s battalions pressed forward towards the entrance of the Zoological Gardens, the enemy laid down a mighty barrage on their route. The chief of artillery had the buildings in which the Fascists were concealed shelled, but the Fascists continued to maintain a determined resistance. Other measures were required.

As always, the reconnaissance had the first word. Guards Sergeant-Major Nikanorov, with the scouts Ivanov, Apanasiukov and Dobrovolski, offered to get into the building, whose occupants were giving the storm troops far too much to do. Covered by the ruins, the scouts forced their way into the building, fell on the occupants and silenced their strongpoint. Now the battalion’s tanks were able to proceed another 100 to 200 metres along Urbanstrasse.

Nikanorov, who had just cleared the building of Fascists and then informed the riflemen, came across a tank from whose hatches smoke and flames were emerging. As the crew of the T-34 appeared to be dead, Nikanorov wanted at least to save the tank. But the vehicle lay under fire from submachine-gunners hidden nearby. Nikanorov ordered Apansiukov and Dobrovolski to engage the enemy with fire and provide him with a diversion. The plan succeeded. Engaged in the lively exchange of fire, the Fascists took their eyes off the tank. Ivanov climbed aboard, extinguished the fire and checked the condition of the machine. The tank was only slightly damaged, the engine and controls being intact. The clever sergeant got into the driving seat and drove the tank out of the zone of fire.

I ordered my radioman to connect me with Babadshanian. Colonel Vedenitshev reported back and informed me that Babadshanian had decided to advance not only along the streets but also through the U-Bahn tunnels. The storm troops were involved in heavy fighting with every individual building. However, Babadshanian had to give up his idea as Hitler had ordered the floodgates of the Landwehr Canal to be opened to flood the U-Bahn.

Because of the high losses, I sent Babadshanian the last of my reserves, the headquarters guard company, to his aid. I found it difficult giving up these battle-experienced men, but the war was still claiming its victims.

Behind the Zoological Gardens, around which was a 2-metre-high wall, lay the Tiergarten, in which were concrete bunkers and specially built massive buildings. All the streets around the Zoological Gardens were blocked by barricades lying within range of the artillery and machine-guns. The garrison comprised about 5,000 men. We were to destroy these last defensive installations with the Guards of the 39th Rifle Division.

Our sappers worked on the wall and blew it in several places, while covered by strong artillery fire and a curtain of smoke. The infantry, tanks and artillery assembled behind the ruins and barricades. Several guns opened fire simultaneously. Smoke and dust rose above the Zoological Gardens. In the vast din the sound of the engines of the bombers flying over the Zoo to drop their bombs could not be heard.

Upon the signal to attack, the riflemen and sappers stormed the gaps and occupied the aquarium. As they were unable to take the concrete bunker that the enemy were defending fanatically, we brought in 152mm howitzers that took on the bunker with direct fire at a range of 200 to 300 metres, but still without success. Even these large calibre shells were unable to penetrate the thick walls.

Only when the divisional commander, Colonel Martshenko, ordered the demolition of the entrance doors was it possible to penetrate the bunker. On the 1st May the whole of the Zoological Gardens were in our hands. Later it became known that the command post and communications centre of the commander of the Berlin Defensive Area, General Weidling, were located in one of the bunkers. The general had had to move to another command post.

In this fighting the rifle and tank-men commanded by Majors Shestakov and Gavriliuk particularly distinguished themselves.

On the night leading to the 1st May I visited the command post of our fighting colleague, General Chuikov. Once we had sorted out our business, the chief of the German Army’s General Staff, General Krebs, sought to pass ‘an especially important message’ to the Soviet high command. As we later discovered, Krebs brought the news of Hitler’s suicide to our high command with a list of names of the new German government, as well as an appeal by Goebbels and Bormann to the Soviet high command for a temporary ceasefire in Berlin in order to enable the arrangement of peace talks between Germany and the USSR.

When our high command was informed of the Fascist leadership’s intentions, we immediately increased the storm on Berlin. At 1800 hours on the 1st May the guns thundered once more. Together with Chuikov’s infantry, the 1st Guards Tank Brigade went into a last attack on the Tiergarten. Opposite them fought the 3rd Shock Army under General Kusnetzov and the 2nd Guards Tank Army under General Bogdanov. On the evening of that same day the forward elements of these four armies destroyed the last resisting units. The Tiergarten was littered with burnt trees and destroyed vehicles and ploughed up with trenches, bomb and shell craters.

Soldiers and officers fell into one another’s arms. Only a few kilometres had separated both armies, but with what high losses they had had to win.

The fate of the Berlin garrison was sealed. At 0200 hours on the 2nd May General Weidling appeared at Chuikov’s command post, where Goebbel’s deputy, Fritsche, had been brought that same morning. Both declared themselves prepared to issue the following order for the capitulation of the troops in Berlin:

Over all the loudspeakers the German army was ordered to cease fire immediately.

The city was on fire. Clouds of smoke rose up into the spring sky. Here and there machine-guns still rattled. Again and again the loudspeakers broadcast the orders in Russian and German to cease fire. Officers of Chuikov’s and Weidling’s staffs drove slowly through the streets and passed the order of the former commander of the Berlin Defence Area.

German soldiers crawled out of cellars, underground passageways and U-Bahn tunnels. Tattered, unshaven, in filthy uniforms, they went through the weapon collecting points in single file. What a sad end to an army that four years previously had marched victoriously through so many European countries.

The final point of the gigantic Berlin operation had been reached. The enemy had capitulated at 1500 hours on the 2nd May 1945. That same day I had a surprise encounter with General Weidling that recalled many thoughts to me. Near the Reichstag a column of prisoners was drawing past the smoking rubble. At their head walked several generals. A colonel-general took a long look at our tank. Perhaps the tank reminded him of something? After a short hesitation he continued on his way with lowered eyes.

‘Who is that general?’ I asked Sobolev, who was standing near me.

‘Weidling. Colonel-General Weidling.’

This name I had already recalled. Weidling had begun his military career on the Soviet–German front as a first lieutenant. He was one of the commanders of the Fascist hordes that had tried to break through on the Volokolamsker Chaussee to Moscow. There he had learned of the strength and courage of the soldiers of our 1st Guards Tank Brigade. Perhaps he already knew then that the famous German fighting slogan ‘surround, close in, destroy’ was useless. Weidling encountered the 1st Guards Tank Army for the second time at the Kursk Bend. Apparently his Tigers and Ferdinands tried to ram our defences on the Oboianer Chaussee. Now they lay near Kursk as rusty heaps of scrap metal.

What the slogan ‘surround, close in, destroy’ really meant, Weidling discovered in the summer of 1944, when, already a general and commander-in-chief of the 9th German Army, he was with his troops in the Bobruisk cauldron. Our tanks cut through his army’s communications, his staff became prisoners and he himself escaped by a miracle.

Near Berlin occurred the third decisive encounter of the 1st Guards Tank Army with the German 9th Army’s XVIth Panzer Corps. Beaten back by us, its commander withdrew to Berlin with the remains of his troops. Now he too was in the column of prisoners of war. With him went the whole of the Fascist Wehrmacht.

That evening I drove with Shalin and Nikitin through the still-smoking city. Unimaginable scenes in the streets. Everywhere hugging, kissing, laughing and singing. Berlin had fallen. Here and again the cracking of shots. The soldiers were firing their victory salutes. Soldiers were dancing next to their tanks. For four long, bloody years the people had had to wait for this hour. Now the hour of victory had arrived. A red flag waved over the Reichstag.

At a crossroads Shalin suddenly grasped my arm: ‘Look there!’ Corpses were hanging from a lamppost.

‘Volkssturm,’ explained Shalin. ‘Gestapo victims. They wanted to end the senseless fighting, so they were hanged as a warning.’

At this time a question was being repeatedly asked: ‘What’s happened to Hitler?’ The suggestion that he had committed suicide was not convincing. One thought was that his companions had got this rumour going to obliterate his traces. The desire to capture Hitler and publicly try him was in everyone’s mind.

Naturally Hitler’s remains were also discussed by us. Nikitin suggested that we visit the Führerbunker at the Reichs Chancellery.

‘Where is Hitler? Show us him!’ we asked of the commandant of the Reichs Chancellery, Colonel Shevzov.

‘He’s gone, the swine. He was here but he’s gone. Only a charred corpse is left,’ he replied.

We went down some steep steps into the bunker. Stale air hit us. We entered a long corridor, turned left and then right and finally stood in front of a massive door, similar to that of a treasury.

‘This is where he lived,’ said Shevzov and stood aside to let us through. We inspected Hitler’s reception room, his bedroom, his dining room and his bathroom. Shevzov told us that immediately above Hitler’s quarters lay massive iron plates for protection against bomb and shell attacks.

All these years we had sworn to enter the Fascist cave and now we stood in our goal. It really was a cave, the description of a living bunker was out of place.

In a neighbouring room was the corpse of a man in a general’s uniform. ‘The chief of the army staff, General of Infantry Krebs,’ explained Schevzov. It was the same man that had brought to the bunker the news that the Soviet Supreme Command was sticking to the unconditional surrender and refusing all dealings with the Fascists. This information led to several suicides in the bunker.

We thanked Shevzov for his trouble and left the Reichs Chancellery.

The street fighting in Berlin was finished. The formations and units of the army paraded in front of the Reichstag. According to orders we had to leave the city and redeploy in a new area.

In Berlin peaceful life returned while in other sectors the Soviet–German war still raged. Our troops continued to fight against the armies of Schörner, Manteufel and other Fascist generals, in all over 1.5 million men. Daily came reports of German units surrendering en masse to our western allies, but others continued to fight determinedly against us.

On the morning of the 3rd May our fighting companions, those who had lost their lives in the last fighting in Berlin, were buried. Silent and bare-headed, the Guardsmen thought about their comrades. They were buried at the Brandenburg Gate and in Treptow Park, covered in spring flowers and garlands.