Tank Rider: Into the Reich with the Red Army

THE VISTULA–ODER OPERATION

Our preparation for the upcoming battles on the Sandomir bridgehead was over. In late December, 1944, we marched on foot from the village where we had been staying, not far from the front line. Our battalion concentrated in a forest, and for several days we slept at campfires using branches of pine trees to sleep on. After that we built dugouts and installed stoves that we made from empty fuel barrels. Rain capes or pieces of tarpaulin served as doors for dugouts. Frost was not that heavy – 10 to 12 degrees – but we were freezing to our bones. Of course it was warmer in dugouts. We did not have any training during that period; we were given all our time for rest. We slept as much as we wanted, checked our weapons and did all kinds of small things – mostly we played cards and wrote letters home.

They took us officers to the front line several times. We went to the trenches to work out the routes of advance for tanks with tank riders. We also got to know the tank crews. We did not know when the grand offensive was to start – such things were kept secret. However, one could feel that the moment was coming, and this is why we were somewhat excited, even nervous. The two worst things are waiting for something and catching up with someone.

Finally, the big day, 12 January, 1945, came. After a long artillery preparation and air force strikes, infantry units of the front went over to the offensive and in a dashing assault captured the first and the second defence lines of the enemy. Artillery preparation and air force strikes lasted at least one-and-a-half hours, if I am not mistaken. Guns, including 76 mm to 152 mm, 82 mm, 120 mm and 160 mm mortars, as well as Katyushas firing on the enemy defences. Bombers and Il-2 Shturmoviks raided the defences as well. It was a permanent rumble; we even had to shout, as we could not hear each other. The enemy’s positions were covered with a thick cloud of smoke, some debris was flying in the air, and something was burning and exploding there. The enemy could only return sporadic fire, as almost all artillery and mortars were suppressed.

After the Field Army’s infantry units broke through the defences, our turn came. The task of our Brigade as well as the whole Tank Army was to enter the gap, develop the advance towards the Oder and then capture a bridgehead on its left, western bank.

Our company, just like the other companies of the battalion, moved forward in a column on tanks of the tank regiment. It was a total mess on the road, other combat units and all kinds of supply units were also on the move; some trucks and lorries moved against the main stream of vehicles, slowing down our offensive. It was dangerous to drive off the road – mines were all around, and engineers had not yet had time to clear them. M-1 emochka (loosely translates as ‘small M’ car – translator’s comment) car of the Brigade commander hit a mine and Colonel Turkin survived by pure luck (he got off with light shellshock), although his driver and the orderly were killed and the car was blown to pieces. Platoon leader Lieutenant Shakulo from our company was wounded on 12 January, he was hit by something that broke his leg. When he left for hospital, I was ordered to lead his platoon as well, although the acting platoon leader in his platoon was Sergeant Savkin – a wonderful guy, a brave and skilful soldier.

During the entire day of 12 January, 1945, we were advancing forward successfully, though slowly. Clouds were hanging low in the sky, and the enemy’s air force was not present. It grew dark early in January, and already at twilight we ran into the enemy’s stronghold in front of a village. The enemy opened fire from machine-guns and tank guns at point-blank range.

We quickly got off our tanks, deployed in a line and lay down on open terrain. We tried to dig in, but the battalion commander and tank regiment commander ordered us to attack. It was almost dark already, which suited us well – this meant fewer losses. As often happens in night action, the company split – Vyunov’s platoon attacked to the left, while I attacked on the right flank with my two platoons. Despite enemy fire, we rushed into the village and the enemy fled. Our tanks supported us by fire, but did not enter the village, staying where they were. Apparently, they were afraid of the Tigers positioned behind the village and firing intensively on our tanks. They did not fire at us, infantry, though, as they were afraid of hitting their own infantry that was fleeing through the village.

I went to the opposite side of the village with two platoons and occupied the German trenches. The Germans could no longer be seen. The night battle that followed stayed in my memory very well, as we had to repel German counterattacks till very dawn. I did not have communication with either the company commander or the platoon of Senior Lieutenant Vyunov; I did not even know where they were. Machine-gun platoon leader Alexander Guschenkov noticed the direction of my attack and, without losing his head in this hell, came to assist me with his two Maxim machine-guns and his men. He took up a position on the right flank of my two platoons, as my right flank was exposed. The other companies of the battalion covered the left flank, which were also in action. The third platoon of the company with its leader was also somewhere over there. Guschenkov’s machine-gun crews were a great help to us.

Fire ceased for some time and I decided to walk along the newly captured German trenches in order to support my men and show them that I was with them. This is important for soldiers, especially in a hard situation. Sergeant Savkin drew my attention to German hand grenades, mess tins, helmets and clips that were hidden in niches of trenches. I ordered my men not to touch them, but one soldier either forgot my order or just started jumping in order to get warm, and touched something. An explosion sounded in the air, the soldier was thrown 2 metres up in the air and he fell dead into the trench like an empty sack. That was the only casualty we had from boobytrap mines.

The Germans counter-attacked after some time, but only with infantry – their tanks stayed where they were. At that time our T-34s had already driven up to us, and together with them we repelled the attack. The German infantry fell back, while the German tanks opened fire on the village, setting some houses on fire. Combat at night is generally very hard, and this engagement lasted the whole night. You cannot see a thing; you only fire at flashes or barely visible shadows. In darkness you cannot see the results of your own fire and of course it is less effective than in daytime.

As far as I remember, there were at least thirteen to fifteen Tiger tanks, but I cannot say how many infantry they had – it was too dark. Just three T-34-85 tanks supported me. The tank crews were green and it was their first battle. They rarely fired on the German tanks, being afraid that the enemy would spot their muzzle flashes, and when the houses caught fire, they tried to retreat as far as possible into the dark shadow. Although they did not retreat far, their retreat had a bad effect on the morale of my soldiers, most of whom were also green, but even the old hands were scared. They held on with their last bit of strength, but kept on firing at the enemy. However, they were all looking back at our tanks – they were afraid that the tanks would just leave us and drive to the rear. So I had to run back and forth – first to the tanks in order to stop them, if they had retreated too far, bring them back or even ask them to fire, then run to see how Guschenkov was doing, and then back to my men. The whole village was on fire, shells were exploding all around, and bullets and shell splinters flew shrieking through the air. Our DP machine-guns and submachine-guns were firing. The Germans tried to attack our flank, but Guschenkov’s machine-guns cut them down almost at point-blank range and they ceased their attacks.

Nevertheless, two or three soldiers abandoned their foxholes and hid behind a hut, which was still on fire. I brought them back to their initial place – back to the trenches. If you do not nip panic in the bud, then your unit becomes uncontrollable. This is why I strictly warned the squad leaders of those two soldiers who ran away from the trenches without order. So, almost all night long I had to run back and forth from trenches to tanks and then back to trenches, all the time under enemy fire. I was steaming, I was constantly thirsty; it was good that there was a well nearby, my orderly scooped water from the well with a canteen and I gulped it down. The whole village was on fire, it was as bright as day. I had to lead almost a company in action in these conditions – two platoons and a machine-gun platoon, plus I had to force our tanks to fire, while the tanks were always trying to retreat to a safe place. This running around almost cost me my life. I could be seen for miles in the burning village, so as soon as I jumped into a foxhole, a shell exploded on its breastwork. The breastwork was smashed, while private Ivanov and me were deafened by the explosion. The worst thing was that the trench was just few metres from a burning house and it was too hot in that foxhole. The foxhole was clearly visible against the glare of the burning house, but the second shot never came, apparently Germans thought we were dead. I quickly moved to another foxhole, permitting Ivanov to go to the first-aid station, as he was slightly shell-shocked.

Before dawn the Germans ceased fire and then altogether disappeared from our sight. Apparently, their mission was not to destroy our battalion and the Brigade, but rather to delay our offensive for as long as possible in order to rescue their units from destruction and encirclement in another sector of the front. Despite the intensity and length of the battle, our losses were insignificant. At dawn Guschenkov and I found company commander Chernyshov and 3rd platoon leader Vyunov. I reported the losses to the company commander and we exchanged our opinions about the engagement. The battalion’s field kitchen had managed to cook breakfast by that time and we sent two or three men from each squad with mess tins to bring the food, just like we always did. My orderly and I had breakfast from the same mess. If we could, we washed our messes after meals or wiped them with grass. If someone was still hungry, it was always possible to get extra food, as they cooked food for the whole battalion and the battalion had losses…

We started to march after breakfast, first on foot and then we clambered aboard the tanks. The battalion was moving as the Brigade’s forward task force, and the Germans did not try to set up serious defences, but by the end of the day a strong German delaying force stopped us. Our companies attacked several times, but were thrown back with losses in personnel. German artillery, especially anti-tank guns, were especially active. We had to stop and dig in. During daytime the enemy did not let us move – as soon as they spotted movement they opened fire. Only with the arrival of darkness could we move – we put ourselves in order and counted our losses. Just as I was lying down to have a nap, an orderly found me and passed on the order of the battalion commander to go to battalion staff. When I came to Kozienko, I saw deputy brigade commander Starovoit and tank regiment commander Stolyarov at his CP. They were all in a tent that was set up in a hollow. They had a portable electric lamp in the tent. It was not battalion commander Kozienko, but tank regiment commander Stolyarov who addressed me: ‘You, Bessonov, have got an important mission,’ he said. ‘With three tanks you and your platoon must cut the road that the Germans are using, you must stop them, advance forward and capture the German artillery, thus securing the Brigade’s further advance.’ I really did not want to go there to die, I really wanted to sleep. That was my second night and second day without sleep. Yes, it was an order, but I lost my self-control: ‘Don’t you have any other officers except Bessonov in the battalion? I always have to go first, I’ve been 48 hours without sleep already!’ Lieutenant Colonel Starovoit answered to me: ‘We did not choose you at random, we believe that you will complete the mission and we are more doubtful about the other officers.’ Major Kozienko repeated the order: ‘Go and fulfil the order.’ What could I do, it was an order and I had to obey it! The tank platoon leader also came up to us. We knew each other from previous battles and quickly developed a co-ordination plan. I had a comment to make here as well, saying that the tanks should assist the tank riders, not hide, as it was in the night action for the village the night before. Major Stolyarov was not offended with my comment; on the contrary, he drew the tanker’s attention to it: ‘A tank is designed for a battle, it is not just a coach for tank riders.’

At night from 14 to 15 January we moved forwards to complete our mission. I put a squad (seven or eight men) on each of the three tanks that I had. The tanks deployed in a line some 20 or 25 metres apart. The tanks drove forward at low speed on my command. There was intensive German traffic on the road, and so the Germans could not hear the noise of our tank engines. It was a dark and cloudy night, one could not see stars. We advanced towards the road and stopped some 30 metres from it. As we had previously arranged, each tank fired one round from its main gun, a long machine-gun burst and then ceased fire. At the same moment the tank riders jumped off the tanks and rushed to the road, firing their submachine-guns on the move at the German vehicles. When we ran up to the road, the German column stopped. Cars stood there filled with luggage and sacks full of German food and wine. The Germans ran like a hare before hounds – I was always amazed by how quickly they could run. Apparently, this was a retreat or relocation of a large unit’s staff. The enemy was thrown from the road and the way for Brigade lay open. We threw the bags on the tanks and rushed forward, capturing an artillery battery with prime movers, one of which still had the engine running. We did not see the Germans, but in the darkness we could hear that they were running away, breaking bushes and tree branches. Yes, Germans were fast runners, great runners – especially when death was looking them in the eye.

We advanced a bit further on tanks, some 2 or 3 kilometres from the road. The tank crews reported to Stolyarov that the mission had been completed, German traffic had been stopped and the Germans were nowhere to be seen; we also reported our co-ordinates. I did not have a radio and had to maintain communications with the command through tank radio. We received an order to wait for the main body of the Brigade. We had to wait for it for a long time; it was growing light.Visibility was good. A cold day came, we waited in a forest and there was no wind. We had a snack using the German food – of course, we shared the food with the tank crews. Tanks with tank riders of our battalion appeared. Battalion commander Major Kozienko arrived, but I did not see the company commander Chernyshov. During the whole operation I was receiving orders from battalion commander or even Major Stolyarov, the tank regiment commander, and in fact never saw the company commander. At that point the battalion commander gave a new order – to inspect several houses located far from the road.

I deployed my platoon in a line, and the enemy fired several rounds at us, but they all missed. We rushed into the houses, and in close combat, even in hand-to-hand fight we destroyed the Fritzes. Some of them fled, and we did not pursue them. My platoon did not have any losses. The mission was thus completed and we came back to the battalion.

Brigade commander Colonel Turkin arrived and again sent me forward as a vanguard on three tanks, gave me a route of advance and pointed out a place where I should stop for a halt. The depleted platoon of Shakulo, who was wounded, was also with me. The vanguard moved forward some 5 to 7 kilometres from the main body of the Brigade, maintaining communication over tank radio in order to warn the main body about enemy forces. The vanguard is always the first unit to receive a blow from the enemy, in some cases a deadly blow from an ambush, so one always had to be careful.

That was the beginning of a long journey on Polish soil, up to the Oder and then to the Neisse river. In general, one has to know how to ride on a tank, how to jump off it and how to mount it. We had a special training session for that during our time in reserve. It is harder to do in wintertime than in summertime; besides that, armour is cold and there is no protection from the wind, and one has to hold on to something in order not to fall from the tank during a cross-country march. There were railings on the tank’s turret, but they were not enough. There was an incident when during a cross-country march one soldier was knocked off the tank by a tree branch, which hooked round neck and threw him on the ground. No one noticed his disappearing – apparently, everyone was asleep, and the soldier had to travel on alone on foot, following the tank tracks. It was good that the column stopped soon after the incident and the soldier, who was from Petr Shakulo’s platoon, was able to catch up with the battalion. For a long time the man was the butt of friendly jokes from the ‘Slavs’.

In wintertime soldiers tried to sit behind the turret, on the tank’s warm radiator. I would sometimes stay behind the turret, where I sat and dozed off at night and stood during the day and looked forward, in order to see the terrain and be able to control the situation. I would normally be on the second or third tank, as the radio worked better there. Continuous communication is a cornerstone of combat, especially when you are to the enemy’s rear and when we were detached from the main body of the Brigade. Our mission was to attack along the route of Keltse [Pesuv], Lodz, Petrokov (or Petrokuv) [Piotrkow], Ostruv [Ostrow], Kratoshki [Krotszyn] and on to the Oder, to Keben on the other side of the river. It was generally dangerous to be in front of the Brigade. If you missed the enemy, all its forces would crush on you and soldiers of your platoon. On the other hand, I felt quite free – no command around, and I was my own boss. Besides that, we had lots of food we had captured from Germans and we never stayed hungry, and we had some alcohol to wet our whistles. The grey hilly fields of Poland were lying before our eyes – fields covered by snow, fields of poor peasants. To the right or to the left of the road there were small villages, some ten buildings each. Shots sounded from them sometimes, but our order was – just forward. We would report the name of a village, from which we were fired upon, but we never engaged the enemy. Sometimes we saw huge fields without a single border-strip. Normally in the centre of those fields stood large brick houses, surrounded by barns – these were the houses of richer Poles. However, we had no time to enjoy the view. The first tank reported: ‘A supply column in sight, what should we do with it?’ The tank commander and I sent a message back: ‘Crush them!’ We fell upon them, firing on the move without even dismounting from the tanks; the supply column was blown to pieces and we moved on.

At the end of the day on 15 January, 1945, we reached the village of Bobzha. As always, I parked the tanks, appointing one squad to guard the tanks and observe the road. Just when I was about to report the completion of the mission to the battalion commander, all of a sudden a strong explosion rent the air. I rushed there. A tragic incident had taken place. The head of engineers of the battalion, an experienced battle engineer and a veteran from Kursk, had decided to defuse an anti-tank mine. He unscrewed the top fuse, but the mine was frozen to the soil and he could not move it. Then he took a bar and hit the mine. The following explosion blew the engineer into pieces. He apparently forgot that German anti-tank mines also had a bottom fuse. It would have been easier to tie a rope or a cable to the mine, hide in a shelter and pull it – everything would have been all right then. The mine had at least 8 or 10 kilograms of explosives… This is how our battalion’s engineer died, a modest and good comrade, who made such a tragic mistake. We were all very sorry about his death.

We did not rest for long, as I received a new mission. I was given two tanks and two 76 mm guns; a machine-gun platoon under Lieutenant Vasily Mochalov attached to us. It is strange that it was not the machine-gun platoon from our company, but anything could happen at the front.

It was a responsible and dangerous mission. We were to move 5 to 7 kilometres to the right of the main road to a road crossing and delay the retreating enemy forces at least till dawn or force the enemy to retreat on other routes, in worse conditions: on earth roads, not on the highway. But we only had a platoon – 20 or 25 men with two Maxim machine-guns. The guns that we had were too weak against Tigers, and the tanks, as it later turned out, were not the ones that we had during the day and were significantly damaged. They could not even fire, so it would have been better if we hadn’t had them at all.

We reached the road crossing safely. Gun crews and tanks took up a position at the only house by the crossing, while the infantry lay down in front of the house. However, no matter how hard we tried to dig in, we could not do it – the soil was frozen solid. It was frozen to a significant depth and was hard as a rock. Soil rescues a soldier in combat from mines and shell explosions, while here soldiers had to lie in the open like sitting ducks. We did not see the enemy. It was a cold winter night. Silence was deceptive, as always in the front, and we did not have to wait for long.

Deputy battalion commander Captain Maxim Tarasovich Burkov came over on a motorcycle, apparently to offer me support and control, or maybe just because they had little hope for my task force. After bringing Burkov, the motorcycle returned to Bobzha village. Burkov was a wonderful person and enjoyed great respect among the officers. He informed me that there would be no reinforcements (although earlier they had been speaking about it). He told me that we had to hold the crossing till dawn at all costs with our task force and see it from there. We walked into a house, where some of my soldiers were resting – it was warm inside. There were no owners of the house; they had abandoned it even before we arrived. We had a snack, given the fact that we had something to eat. Burkov laughed and said: ‘Where do you get all that food, Bessonov?’ However, we did not drink alcohol, even the German wine. I had a bit before I was sent to the crossing, and it was enough for me, while Burkov also did not want to drink it – it was not the right moment. We walked outdoors and heard a motorcycle coming over from Bobzha. We thought that it was our motorcycle again and Burkov even walked up to roadside and raised his hand, but the motorcycle rushed by us at high speed. Soldiers opened fire on the motorcycle in the gloom, but they were way too late and it disappeared.

A truck drove to our crossing from the forest after some time. My men opened fire on the vehicle and it stopped some 10 metres from the tank, behind which I was standing. I shouted to my orderly ‘Fire!’ but he paused. Germans started to jump out from the back of the truck, shouting ‘Ivanen! Ivanen!’ I pulled an F-1 hand grenade from my greatcoat pocket, loosened the pin, pulled it out and threw the grenade into the back of the truck, continuing to shout to my soldiers: ‘Fire! Fire!’ Then I threw the second hand grenade into the truck, but none of my grenades exploded, although I distinctly remember that I had pulled out the pins.

The Germans, at least fifteen of them, all ran away in the direction that the truck emerged from. I am sure that some of them got hurt by the fire of my platoon, but there were no bodies. We did not pursue them – how could we find them in darkness of the night? Maybe we did wound someone, but we did not look for the escaping Germans. I forbade my soldiers to search the body of the truck, where my unexploded grenades were lying – I feared that they could go off. I climbed up the truck and inspected it myself, but did not find the grenades in the dark. I have been puzzled for a long time as to why the grenades did not explode and have not been able to come to any conclusion, but in subsequent battles I started to change grenades for the new ones more frequently and thoroughly inspected them, especially the fuses.

At midnight of 16 January, the artillery section leader reported that at least ten Tiger tanks had appeared at the forest edge in front of our defences. I ordered them to open fire on the tanks. The two guns of the battery opened fire on them, but in the darkness you could see the armour-piercing shells hitting the front armour, ricocheting and flying off into the sky with a loud ring. Our tanks also fired a few rounds and ceased fire. The tankers reported to Burkov that the tanks were not working properly and could not fire on the enemy: the first tank could not rotate its turret, while the second one also had some defects. Besides that, the second crew only had the driver and tank commander. When Burkov learnt about this, he just spat on the ground, cursed and said that the tank regiment was supposed to know what kind of tanks they were sending on such a responsible mission.

Nevertheless, our fire stopped the enemy’s tanks, but they opened intensive fire with armour-piercing and high-explosive shells on our defences. We spent an awful night at that road crossing. The enemy’s shells were exploding next to tanks and guns, but we did not have losses and even the house that we had abandoned did not catch fire. Soldiers had only been able to dig skirmisher’s trenches, which secured them from bullets, but not from artillery fire and splinters, while Burkov and I did not even have those shelters – we sat behind a tank.

Captain Burkov asked me: ‘What do you think, will we make it alive from here or Germans will crush us here?’ What could I, a 21-year-old Lieutenant, answer to this? As far as I remember, in order to calm both of us down, I said: ‘Let’s sit under the tank till dawn, it is not much time left, and we will see then! We will complete the mission. We will retreat to the hill which is behind us.’ After that we had a smoke. Officers at the front received Kazbek (Russian brand name – translator’s note) cigarettes or light tobacco in packs. I rarely smoked, but in hard situations I normally smoked mahorka (tobacco for handrolling issued to enlisted men – translator’s note), giving my good tobacco away to those who preferred good tobacco and cigarettes.

We were just a handful of soldiers at the crossing, while the enemy concentrated both tanks and infantry against us. Of course, we could not put up stubborn resistance. But the tanks did not attack us, and we with Mochalov’s machine-guns were able to throw attacking German infantry back all night long. Germans, as a rule, would not attack during the night, they only attacked at dawn or in daytime, so I thought (and I shared this with Burkov), that the Germans would attack en masse at dawn. Apparently, the enemy simply did not yet know what forces he was facing, it was impossible to see at nighttime, but with the coming of dawn the Germans would attack with all their strength. They had to capture the road crossing in order to retreat to the west and avoid destruction by other Red Army units. Our infantry was not a problem for German tanks, 76 mm guns were also too weak, while our two broken-down tanks could not fire and would be knocked out right away by the Tigers.

Before morning Captain Burkov made a decision to withdraw to the hill which was behind us, behind the road. ‘Let’s say good bye to each other: apparently the Germans will not let us leave this road crossing alive. The dawn will come and Fritzes’ tanks will crush us.’ This he said to me. Before it grew lighter we withdrew our artillery and then ourselves went to the hill, following our guns. Having completed this manoeuvre, we wanted to dig in at the hill, but the soil there was also too hard, and we just lay down on the ground. It was growing light, and we had to watch out. Our two tanks also arrived – they safely hid behind the hill, as the reverse slope of the hill was steeper than the one facing the Germans.

At dawn the Germans started their attacks on the hill. At least ten German tanks impudently attacked our positions. Yes, things looked bad for us. A line of attacking German infantry was walking across the field on our left flank, on our right flank there was also a battle – we could hear machine-gun bursts and gunfire. It was hard to understand what was going on over there. The Germans destroyed one of our tanks, the one that could not rotate the turret, on that hill. The second tank was firing on the Tigers and even made them stop half way up the slope. The battle intensified. We thought that reinforcements had arrived, but everything was mixed up and we could not tell where the enemy and where the friendly troops were. Then Burkov ordered us to withdraw the artillery into the forest, while we stayed on the hill, which did not have any place to hide in. Then he gave us an order to retreat as well. It was only later that I understood that Burkov ordered us to retreat to the forest in order to save soldiers’ lives, to save them for future battles… Before we reached the forest edge, Burkov was heavily wounded – he was standing on the step of a truck, and was hurt when the driver accidentally passed too close to a tree. We laid him on a rain cape and carried him along forest edge toward Bobzha village, from which Kozienko sent me to the road crossing and ordered to hold it till dawn. I fulfilled the order – it was already morning.

Of course we could stay at the road crossing, but we could no longer contain the enemy – the Germans needed ways of retreat, and they would have merely squashed us with tanks, as we could not dig proper trenches. Nevertheless, we fulfilled the order of the battalion commander and held the positions almost till noon withdrawing only on Burkov’s order. It was hard to carry Maxim Tarasovich: the soldiers had to take turns very often. Soldiers drew my attention to footprints of Germans jackboots on the snow – the soles of their jackboots were covered with large nails. The footprints went deep into the forest. We sent out a squad to find a further road to Bobzha and followed the squad at some distance, but did not encounter any Germans. Then we reached the well-rolled road that went to that village and curved to the right along forest edge. We were planning to check who was in the village, when a truck appeared on the road. The driver of the truck was an officer whom I knew. He told us that the village was occupied by our forces – the 2nd and the 3rd battalions of the Brigade, while behind a hill, in another village he had seen 1st battalion commander Kozienko.

I asked him to drive Burkov to the medical platoon, as the driver knew Burkov as well. We put Burkov into the back of the truck, and I sent some soldiers as escort, and the truck left, while Lieutenant Mochalov, the machine-gun platoon leader and I went on to the battalion with our men. The soldiers, as well as Vasily Mochalov and I, were happy to have survived that hellish merry-go-round. We were walking on the road in a crowd, laughing and making jokes with each other. I lost my feeling of alertness, which happened to me quite rarely; if there had been an ambush, they would have slaughtered us all in no time. Several soldiers even drove on abandoned German motorcycles without fuel – they rolled down the hill very well even without the engine working.

The battalion met us fully armed, it turned out they mistook us for Germans. As they told me, they were about to open fire on us, but saw two tall guys – me and especially Mochalov – we called him a ‘beanpole’ because of his height. They were happy to see us, as they thought we had been killed at the road crossing.

I started my report about the battle at that road crossing and the entire situation to the battalion commander. I also reported that I had fulfilled his order to hold the road crossing till dawn. First of all I reported Captain Burkov’s wound and where they had sent him on a vehicle. The battalion’s political officer, Gerstein, and the battalion’s doctor, Senior Lieutenant Pankova, who was Burkov’s wife, immediately went to the medical platoon. They came back after some time and informed us that Captain Maxim Tarasovich Burkov had passed away. He was 25 years old. It was a big loss for the battalion. A warrior, an officer, who had been in the war from its very first day, a decent person, a brave and good comrade and commander, was dead. In my memory he will remain as a tall, physically strong and cheerful person that never lost heart. His wife, Praskovia Pankova was expecting a baby at that time, and Maxim Burkov’s son was only born after his death…

The 2nd company commander Senior Lieutenant Shtokolov, being drunk, was heavily wounded in that village. He liked to drink and he drank a lot. He was wounded because of his own stupidity. As Alexander Guschenkov told me, the drunken Shtokolov grabbed a submachine-gun and started to fire on an abandoned German APC, and the APC just exploded. Shtokolov was seriously wounded along with several others. This is how it was at the front – bravery was sometimes next to stupidity. Besides that, eyewitnesses told that in Bobzha village the ‘Slavs’ overslept the arrival of retreating German units that broke into the village at night. The battle lasted all night till dawn. The 3rd battalion of our Brigade under command of Major Alexander Grigorievich Chuyah as well as the tanks of our Brigade’s tank regiment saved the situation. The enemy forces were thrown back with heavy casualties and the situation was restored, but our losses were also high. The only conclusion is that you can sleep, but one eye has to stay open and one ear should still hear. It was war. Our battalion had been sent to another village from Bobzha and did not have losses.

We were in defence the whole day of 16 January, our task was to prevent the breakthrough of retreating German forces to the west. Everything worked out fine, however, the Germans did not appear, apparently having taken other retreat routes. On the next day, 17 January, tanks of our tank regiment caught up with us and the battalion moved forward on tanks. We continued our advance to the Oder at high speed, through Petrokov, Ostruv and Kratoshin. Along our route there were some other smaller villages and towns, which I do not remember – it’s been more than half a century since that time, during which I did not keep a diary. As usual, I was sent forward as the advanced point with my platoon on three tanks. Marching behind enemy lines is no mere parade, one had to be careful all the time. We had orders not to engage small enemy groups, not to linger – just move forward! Nevertheless, we had casualties both in men and in matériel. One gets used to heroism and self-sacrifice of men in battles, and takes it for granted, but it is impossible to get used to the death of people around you.