Tank Rider: Into the Reich with the Red Army

THE LVOV–SANDOMIR OPERATION

Our ‘vacation’ and training for the battles to come was about to end. In early July 1944 our battalion along with the other battalions of the 49th Kamenets-Podolsk Mechanized Brigade, marched on foot towards the front line, to the concentration area, from which we were supposed to go over to the offensive. Intensive fighting was ahead of us.

We only marched in darkness and till dawn; in daytime we stayed in forests and groves, taking camouflage measures. By night the road to the front turned into a mighty stream of troops of all branches of service: infantry, artillery of all calibres, armoured personnel carriers. Tanks drove on other roads in order to confuse the enemy. Camouflage and concealment requirements were strictly followed, all soldiers understood its necessity – otherwise we would have been bombed. Regardless of how hard it was to find a good place for daytime rest, battalion commander Kozienko tried to position the battalion near some water, by a small river for example. It was of great significance in the hot summer days in Ukraine – one could wash or cool down tired feet, or wash their foot wrappings after exhausting night march in huge clouds of dust. All movement died out in daytime – we feared air raids.

We arrived at the concentration area after several days. We stayed for some five days in a copse, waiting for further orders. After this, on one summer evening, Studebakers drove up to us, all personnel of the battalion climbed aboard those trucks and we moved closer to the front by a forced march. The problem was that the drivers did not have sufficient driving experience, and sometimes made mistakes when advancing in columns, but all worked out well. In the morning we dismounted from the trucks and dispersed in the forest in case of artillery strike.

At dawn on 14 July, 1944, after an extensive artillery barrage and numerous air strikes, the infantry’s offensive operation began; the goal was to break through the strongly fortified German defences. On 17 July, after breaking through the German positions, our 4th Tank Army entered the gap with the mission to penetrate deep into the enemy’s rear in the direction of Lvov. Only our 1st motor rifle battalion was thrown into the breakthrough, we rode on tanks of the 56th Tank Regiment. The second and the third battalions along with the Brigade’s tank regiment in the meantime attacked the Germans, who tried to close the gap in their defences, counter-attacking from north and south. The battalions suffered significant losses in personnel and tanks in a heated battle; the tank regiment of the Brigade was almost completely wiped out. However, the enemy also suffered losses and had to give up its intention to close the gap in defences. As a result of that battle, our battalion, our Brigade and the 6th Mechanized Corps in general had all the conditions necessary for a raid into the enemy’s rear. Thus, the burden of fighting during the raid fell on our battalion, the only one that had not suffered losses in the first days of the operation.

We were hit hard during the march to Lvov, especially by the German air force, which never stopped strafing our column, trying to slow down our advance. We tried to advance at night, but summer nights were short and we had to advance in daytime as well. The enemy tried to stop us with all the means at his disposal, setting ambushes and covering forces, but it did not help him much, and we continued our march forward. We also suffered from heat, especially when we dismounted tanks and had to march on foot because of the air raids. What was an air raid? Normally 20 or 25 Junkers bomber planes, escorted by Messerschmitt 109 or 110 fighters, flew in. The bombers were in battle formation even before they reached us and strafed along our column, or attacked from the side, normally out of the sun. First they all dropped their bombs, aiming for the tanks and simultaneously fired the large-calibre machine-guns, trying to set them on fire. The planes attacked twice or three times. During an air raid the tank riders would immediately jump from the tanks like lemmings, trying to run away from the road, diving into some natural shelter, or just lie down and wait for the raid to be over. The tanks also left the road. On a hot sunny day, just beyond the town of Zolochev, the German air force bombed the battalion’s column all day long, ‘with no lunch break’, as we said: one group would leave, and the next one would arrive right away. That was why the tanks stopped and the Brigade’s command, with the consent of the battalion commander, ordered the tank riders to march on foot with all possible camouflage and concealment. In daytime the heat exhausted the soldiers, there were problems with water, men lost their energy and our feet seemed to be made of lead. Some soldiers chafed their feet sore to bleeding. I also got sore feet, for the first and last time in my life. Tanks stood in shelters till darkness and then caught up with us; during the night the battalion again marched ahead on tanks. This measure helped us to avoid losses in personnel and tanks, and we reached the necessary point after the night march. The enemy temporarily lost us; the German air force searched forest edges and ravines, but it was in vain. We marched to Lvov in this manner for several days more.

I liked to sit on the front armour of the tank, on the machine-gun mounting (on the right side of the tank), holding on to the main gun barrel with my left hand. However, one could really only do this when the nights were quite light, with good weather and a good road; normally the tank riders would stay behind the tank turret. Just one time I was inside the tank – I had an hour’s nap there. It was not too comfortable – bumpy, hot and strange. I mostly travelled on the first tank – there was no dust and there was a good view. However, the danger was that the very first enemy’s shell was for you – after all, that was the first vehicle. This is exactly what happened once.

We had travelled on tanks almost the whole night, with lights on. Before dawn, as the sky grew grey, the column stopped in front of a small hill for a short break. That was in front of small town Bobrka, south of Lvov. I decided to leave the first tank and stay behind the turret of the third tank – a more usual place for me and my soldiers. I just wanted to take a nap, if that was possible. Apparently, my intuition helped me, not for the first time. As soon as the column moved forward and the first tank reached the top of the hill, the Fritzes opened fire, the first tank was knocked out and caught fire and then exploded. Two or three soldiers who were on that tank died, the rest, some eight of them, survived. The men were lucky, they jumped off the tank in time, ran away from it and took cover in a roadside ditch. The company also dismounted the tanks and dispersed in a line. We lay down and started to dig in just in case. We could not lift our heads, so heavy was the German machine-gun fire, artillery also fired on us (later we learned that this was in fact German tanks – Panthers).

The order ‘Forward!’ came from the company commander. I got my platoon up to attack, other platoons of the company also stood up. We reached the top of the hill, where our knocked-out tank was, and could not advance any further because of the storm of fire coming from the Fritzes. The platoon suffered casualties – both dead and wounded. The soldiers went to ground, as they could not stand the machine-gun and artillery fire of the enemy, as well as the sniper fire. With the assistance of the squad leaders I managed to spot a couple of German machine-gun nests that were dug-in some 150 to 200 metres from our line. I pointed them out to a runner and sent him to an artillery observer and to the battalion’s mortar company; by that time they themselves had already seen the targets. Brigade artillery and our 82 mm mortars opened fire but failed to suppress the German gun emplacements. As soon as we got up from the ground, the Fritzes pinned us down again; the Brigade’s command did not send tanks to support us, apparently sparing them for further battles. We, tank riders, also could not attack without tank support, and we lay down and tried to wait for the tanks to arrive.

Another ‘Forward!’ order came, that time with the addition of ‘or you will be executed.’ I think that it was the company commander himself, Nikolai Chernyshov, who thought up this addition. I very much doubt that the battalion or brigade commander would have come up with such an order; I never heard anything like that from them either in this and or in the following battles. No one ever scared me with threats of execution, there were no reasons to do so, I always followed my orders without question. We would have to attack the Fritzes and die for the sake of others’ lives. However, it took us a long time to organize the attack, almost the entire day. Yes, we were afraid to charge against tanks, we were simply afraid. The company did not have anti-tank weapons (anti-tank grenades, petrol bombs, were already becoming obsolete). It was not only me who was afraid, other company commanders and platoon leaders were also afraid. The enemy’s fire was heavy and deadly, no one wanted to die, regardless of how brave or dashing you were. The worst thing is to become a cripple, it is better to die right away. When you attack and feel that your comrades are falling next to you, you are horrified – ‘It must be me next.’ But on the other hand, one had such a huge anger against the Germans: ‘just wait for me to get there’, that one was ready to crush everything around and no longer thought of death.

So, I got infuriated after the execution warning. I ordered the squad leaders to get the soldiers up to attack – I was also in the line. The soldiers did not get up – they lay on the ground, no one wanted to die. I also did not want to die, I was just 21 years old, but I had received an order, I could not just wait for the enemy to leave the village. I jumped up from the ground under heavy fire from the enemy and shouted the command: ‘Get up! For the Motherland, for Stalin! Follow me, attack, forward!’ Just a few men got up, it was mostly squad leaders, the rest remained on the ground; fear chained them to the ground. I ran a few metres forward and noticed that it was just several men in the attacking line. I had to come back, run along the line of soldiers and get them up from the ground by force, literally pulling them up from the ground by their waist belts. This was all under the enemy’s machine-gun fire. My orderly ran behind me and shouted to me: ‘Comrade Lieutenant, get down! Get down, comrade Lieutenant, or they’ll kill you!’ I just ran forward, getting the soldiers up. All of a sudden I noticed that wheat ears in front of me were falling off their stems, as if they were cut down by scissors. They were cut by machine-gun fire that the Germans were aiming at me. I had not seen such concentrated fire before. I got in a terrible rage, forgot that I could be killed and started to kick the lying soldiers with my feet and the handle of my entrenching tool, getting them to move. Eventually, everything ended well for my soldiers and me – I was not even wounded, I got the soldiers up and the platoon ran down from the hill into a depression at the outskirts of Bobrka. At the same time Petr Shakulo’s and Gavrilov’s platoons assaulted the enemy. The Germans fled, leaving a Panther tank behind – apparently, it was out of fuel. When we ran up to the tank, it was still warm from the working engine. It took me a long time to come to my senses after that assault, I sat on the ground behind a house and thought of nothing. They called for me, but I did not answer. It was a miracle that the Germans did not kill my orderly and me as we ran along the line of soldiers, getting the soldiers up.

When everyone calmed down and we came to our senses, I heard laughter, jokes, we started to recall the recent engagement. In order to relax we all took a shot of vodka. There were a lot of jokers in the war, we called them hohmach (a Russian slang word for comedian – translator’s comment). They started to joke about me: ‘Bessonov, why did you run along the front, not forward, during the attack?’ Another hohmach answered: ‘Lads, he was so scared that he forgot the direction of the attack.’ The third one: ‘No, he drew German fire on himself, to make it easier for the Slavs (this is what we called soldiers on the front) to attack the Fritzes.’ This was all accompanied by the roar of comrades. ‘He is a real hohmach, he knows how to deceive the Fritzes!’ Those big lads thought it was funny, they laughed like horses, and did not have the slightest idea why I had run along the front, not forward. I still get scared when I recall that incident, but that time I was really lucky that I remained safe and sound. I never forgot that town of Bobrka.

The soldiers did not hold it against me that I got them to attack by force. On the contrary, they turned everything into a joke, and they were happy that they survived. It seems that this episode stayed in my memory because of its uniqueness. I never again had to go through anything like that in the rest of my battle experience. On the whole the soldiers were brave and followed orders without questioning no matter how hard it was for them. I had faith in their ability and I knew that I could fulfil orders with them. They saw me in the attacking line and participating in the deadly battle. They saw that I did not hide behind their backs and this is why they trusted me. I never doubted their stoicism, did not humiliate their self-esteem and treated everyone equally. Some soldiers showed extreme courage, for example, Poddubny, Savkin, Chulkin and others. These brave men were my support. I took heed of their useful advice in battle, and as a rule I tried to fulfil their requests and shared everything that I had with them, mostly food. So did they. I never left wounded on the battlefield and I knew that if I were wounded, they would not leave me. Our problem was that with our fast advance on tanks we did not always have time to bury the dead, and when we buried them, we did not always mark that place. It was only after the end of an operation, when we were in reserve that we defined more precisely who was killed and where, but even then it was only approximate. That was the misfortune of the tank riders and tank crews when fighting far behind enemy lines. We sometimes carried the lightly wounded with us on tanks, they were taken care of by medics or sanitary officers; heavily wounded were left in villages for the villagers to take care of them. In general, it was the battalion and company clerks’ job to keep a tally of the dead and wounded.

We did not enjoy the rest for long; a ‘Forward!’ order came, as our tanks caught up with us. That horrible day, 18 July, 1944, the day that I would remember for my whole life, was drawing to an end. One must acknowledge that the Germans set up a good covering force on that spot, skilfully used the terrain and acted very competently in that battle. The road, as I have already written, first went up to the top of the hill, and then went sharply downwards with a right turn. To the right and to the left of the road were steep hillsides, we had to jump down from them when attacking. At the same time, from my point of view, the German covering force was small – two or three Panthers and Tigers, and up to one company of infantry. To compensate for that, they had a lot of MG34 machine-guns, snipers as well as an 81 mm mortar battery. The Germans were well prepared for defence, skilfully placed their weapons and set their tanks in ambush. We, a column of tanks, advanced at full throttle, without advanced point, without any reconnaissance. An encounter battle is a very complicated type of combat, and one must know how to command it. We were lucky to have such minor casualties both in our company and in platoon. We failed to find one soldier – Babaev, a native of Baku. We searched the entire hillside, checked the houses, but he was nowhere to be found. It was a pity – he was a good soldier.

All night long we continued our advance towards Lvov. We encountered small groups of the enemy, but none of them could compare with the covering force the Fritzes had at Bobrka. At dawn of 19 July we stopped for a rest – we really needed it, especially the tank drivers, as after the hard night they would fall asleep right in their tanks, on their seats. We, the tank riders, could have a nap on the tank’s armour during the march, although the tank was not a car and it did not have real shock absorbers. Any suspension consisted of special kernels (cylinders) that slightly softened the tank’s movement on uneven roads.

We lay in wheat fields, our tanks were camouflaged in ravines. We had a snack with what God had in store for us, washed ourselves and started to put ourselves in order. Officers, who were older than me, started shaving. It was quiet and calm, the sun was shining, the sky was blue, not a single cloud in the sky. How much beauty is around and what a great happiness it is to be alive!

An incident took place during that break that I remember very well. Lieutenant Alexander Guschenkov, machine-gun platoon leader from our company, was shaving. Lieutenant Petr Malyutin came up to him to shave after Guschenkov was done. Guschenkov had a German Parabellum pistol. It was quite a rare piece in our army, the officers did not like it as it was quite complicated, but it did fit comfortably in one’s hand.

So, Lieutenant Malyutin came up and took the pistol, which he had apparently never seen before, and started to study it. Without thinking he put the bullet in the cartridge chamber, pulled the trigger and a shot sounded. The bullet hit Guschenkov in the left shoulder and went right through the muscles. At first Petr did not even understand what had happened, until Alexander told him: ‘Pete, you wounded me.’ Malyutin was scared to death, but all worked out more or less well – he did not kill him, just wounded Alex in the left shoulder. Guschenkov was quickly bandaged and sent to hospital, but his misadventures did not end with that and he had to avoid a deadly danger once more: as he told us later, the Germans, some retreating unit, rushed into the village where the hospital was stationed. They suddenly burst into the house where the wounded were, rushed into the rooms and slaughtered everyone who was there. Alexander Guschenkov jumped from the window of the second floor and ran away into the wheat fields, firing back at the Germans with his Parabellum. He was lucky that it grew dark quickly after the attack. He got into the army hospital several days later. Unfortunately, this was not the only case when the Germans executed wounded and medical personnel. I think that there is no justification for such atrocities.

I also had a case when I wounded a fellow officer, a machine-gun platoon leader. It happened like this: our battalion attacked the Fritzes and almost threw them back from the road, when my soldiers reported: ‘Comrade Lieutenant, the Germans are attacking from the left!’ I did not have binoculars – they only frustrated me in battle, but after looking attentively, I indeed saw Fritzes with their give-away helmets with ‘little horns’ running to the left flank of my company. One of them was especially annoying – he kept hiding and popping up again from the wheat. For some reason I had a rifle, in fact, a German carbine. I did not think long, aimed, and as soon as he showed up, I fired. All of a sudden I heard horrible obscene curses from his direction. It turned out that this was a Russian, and he had found a German helmet in action and put it on for safety. I did not kill him, but had shot his nose through. He immediately threw away the German helmet, they bandaged him and sent into the rear, as someone wounded by a German bullet. What else could I do? Well, the bullet was indeed German. How can one put on German equipment during an offensive! One can use them in defence, but with certain caution.

On the day Guschenkov was wounded our column marched forward unharmed for half a day, not encountering the enemy. The air force was not there either. However, this did not last long – in the afternoon the enemy threw their air force against us again. Given the lack of fighter escort (we did not always have anti-aircraft guns in the column either) the Germans merely taunted us without any disturbance. They strafed low over the column, and we suffered losses both in tanks and personnel. Why were our fighters not in the air? I think the only reason was that our Brigade was far away from the fighter bases, and fighters had limited range capacity. With the mission to liberate Lvov, our Tank Army, including our 49th Mechanized Brigade were deep in the enemy’s rear, almost 100 kilometres ahead of the general army units, that mostly advanced on foot and were engaged in constant fighting with the Germans.