Thor's Anvil

Chapter 19

“A fine mess,” said Manstein as he convened the meeting at Army Group Don’s HQ. They had moved to Morozovsk, largely because much of the ground south of Tatsinskaya, though German controlled, had not been thoroughly patrolled, and the threat from Partisans was very real. Morozovsk was also closer to the action near Oblivskaya, and the General wished to gather his Lieutenants to plan what would happen next. There were a lot of hats around the table, Knobelsdorff, Wietersheim, and Division Commanders Theodore Eicke of the 3rd SS Division, and Hermann Balck of the 11th Panzer.

“Just how strong is the threat developing towards Oblivskaya?” asked Manstein, looking at Eicke.

“We were hard pressed for the last week, but my men held firm. The division was close to full strength when we were up north. Since then, casualties have been heavy, but we still have a lot of fight in us, particularly after the arrival of those heavy panzers.”

“Good,” said Manstein. “Are you still under heavy pressure?”

“Not at the moment. They have come a long way, and also fought hard to get here. I think they are low on fuel and supplies now, and there are few good roads from here up to their bridgeheads over the Don. We should have cleaned those up long ago, and before Steiner moved for Kalach.”

“True,” said Manstein, “but we barely had the infantry to cover the front. An attack was out of the question. I had to fly to Hitler’s HQ just to make sure I could get us your Panzer Korps, Herr Wietersheim. What is the situation on that end of the field?”

“I have my 24th Panzer Division on the line now, and it has stabilized the situation north of Tatsinskaya. They fell back there as we advanced, and the front is now about 45 kilometers north of the airfield. General Lenski’s division is sitting right on the seam between two of their Shock Armies. He has our 305th Infantry to his right, and I moved the 72nd onto the line to his left. But General Knobelsdorff has been greedy this week,” he said with a smile. “He’s stolen away my 9th Panzer Division!”

“It could not be helped,” said Manstein. “Otto is going to bear the brunt of what is to come. That was some very fancy footwork to salvage the situation there.”

“You can thank General Balck,” said Knobelsdorff, a well decorated general with a pair of Iron Crosses and his Silver Panzer Badge prominent on his uniform. “I was barely on the scene after Kempf left, and by the time I got there, Balck had mastered the situation.”

Balck nodded, never one to seek praise, but nonetheless happy to have a job well done acknowledged. “The division did the work,” he said. “The enemy was cocky, and heedless at times. Our boys taught them a few lessons.”

“Yes,” said Manstein, “and it appears they are learning quicker than we thought. Note how they enfiladed Eicke’s division on both sides, and by operating two mobile corps in tandem on each end. I think we must destroy these formations while they are regrouping now. If we give them time to resupply and get up fresh vehicles, this will all start again. So here is what I propose. A pity we could not save Surovinko earlier, but now I think we must get it back. General Wietersheim, please forgive me, but as your 9th Panzer has already moved so far east, I will reassign that division to Knobelsdorff’s 48th Korps. In return, I am bringing up the 23rd Panzer from the Rostov sector. The attack on that city needs infantry, and it will not be forthcoming for some time. Halder has given everything to von Rundstedt. That said, this river here, the Bystraya, marks the Corps boundary, right where you have positioned your 24th Panzer Division, and right at the seam between the enemy 2nd and 3rd Shock Armies. Everything west of that goes to your Korps, General Wietersheim, including the 294th arriving from Yugoslavia, and the two Luftwaffe Field Divisions.”

“You mean the two Luftwaffe Field Regiments,” said Wietersheim. “They have no more than three infantry battalions each.”

“So combine them to make a single division. I wish I could get you more, but there is nothing else available close enough to get here in reasonable time. If necessary, we can pull Schmidt’s 50th Division out of the Donets Basin, and that fight will have to wait until we stabilize the situation here. As for the troops east of Wietersheim, the four Infantry Divisions on the line go to General Hollidt, who is presently setting up his HQ at Chern. Knobelsdorff will take the four mobile divisions. The last is arriving at Oblivskaya even now—3rd Motorized.”

“It is relieving my men as we speak,” said Eicke. “I am moving my division south of the Chir, right astride the road where they were advancing from Surovinko. Don’t worry, they won’t get any farther on that road now.”

“Good,” said Manstein. “Then, with three Panzer Divisions in hand, I think we can attack. General Eicke, it looks like Sheller’s 9th Panzer will be on your right, and then General Balck’s 11th. The enemy is occupying the ground south of Surovinko, and we must take it back. I want to control everything south and west of the Chir. So then, General Balck, work some of your magic, and swing around this feature here, State Farm 79 on my map, about twelve kilometers south of Surovinko. Then, if you swing up towards that town, the Chir will cover your right flank. I wish I had another infantry division to post there, and I will see about moving Schlomer’s 3rd Motorized later. For now, I think it best we keep it at Oblivskaya. Gentlemen, we attack tomorrow morning.”

The situation on the Volga Front was now markedly different from that of the old history. To begin with, the composition of forces involved was very different. On the Soviet side, Armies like the 62nd, 64th, 66th and 24th were composed of units very close to the old history. It seemed that certain units remained stubbornly embedded in this history’s order of battle, as if pulled there by some gravitational force of time. Yet Chuikov also had forces that were never present, like the crack 2nd Volga Rifles, and brigades arriving from Saratov, Samara, and as far away as Novgorod. 65th Army was instead replaced by the 9th and 11th Rifles Corps, but those two formations had about the same overall strength as Batov’s old Army. Beyond this, all the main forces that had been assembled in the Don Bridgeheads from Serafimovich to as far away as Boguchar, were all composed of the troops initially sent by Karpov to form those five Shock Armies. Four were now present, the 2nd, 3rd, 4th, and 5th, and to these Zhukov had added Soviet Ski troops, tank Brigades, motorized regiments and most of the artillery and AT forces.

On the German side, the Rumanians, Italians and Hungarians were nowhere to be seen on this front. In their place, posted on the long line opposite the Don Bridgeheads, was the German 11th Army, with one Korps now withdrawn east of the Don by Steiner, and one more arriving to shore up the line after Zhukov’s counterattack. The presence of Steiner’s SS was in itself the most dramatic change. Here were gathered the cream of the Waffen SS troops, all divisions that had been greatly strengthened prior to Operation Blue. And with them was Grossdeutschland and the new Brandenburg Division, possibly the two best divisions in the Army. Yet in considering the units that were now arriving in response to Zhukov’s counterattack, there was Hermann Balck and his 11th Panzer Division, as if again fated to fight on this ground, and other divisions like 23rd Panzer, 336th Infantry, 294th Infantry that had once formed ad hoc detachments to try and stem the Soviet tide had also arrived, along with the 7th and 8th Luftwaffe Divisions.

Notably absent was von Paulus and his 6th Army. He would not suffer the sad fate that had befallen him when the Russians bagged some 20 Axis Divisions in the pocket near Stalingrad. Now, however, and largely by Steiner’s own willful choice, there were nine German Divisions and fourteen from Orenburg all east of the Don, a force about the same size as the one the Soviets once bagged, some 220,000 men. The troops from Orenburg were entirely ahistorical, a force that would have never existed at all if not for the alterations to the history caused by Kirov’s earlier interventions. Even more prominent was the fact that those troops now occupied all the ground east of the mighty Volga, except Ostrov Sarpinskiy and Krasny Sloboda Islands, which were both Soviet occupied.

The fact that Volkov’s troops now held Krasnoarmeysk, and were facing down the Soviet 64th Army in Beketova along the southern sectors of the battle zone, meant that all the troops east of the Don at least had some overland supply line available. They were not totally isolated, even though the most direct route, the roads and rails coming through Tatsinskaya, Morozovsk and along the Chir, had been cut by the Soviets with the capture of Surovinko.

The rail line east and south of the Don that went through Kotelnikovo to Sal’sk was also of no use. It had been torn apart during the fighting as Volkov advanced near Kotelnikovo, and beyond Sal’sk, the Kuban sector south of Rostov remained Soviet occupied. So supplies were only coming up on the rail line and river barges from Volkov’s stronghold at Astrakhan to Krasnoarmeysk, though the Germans would get only food and fuel. They would now have to depend entirely on the Luftwaffe to deliver ammo, spare parts and fresh troops.

That air link was by no means reliable. The Germans barely had parity in the air, and the enemy Sturmoviks were coming in increasing numbers, their circles of death darkening the skies overhead and making it very hazardous for unescorted Stuka squadrons. An infantry division might need 50 tons of ammo per day, more if on the offensive. One of Steiner’s SS divisions would need 70 to 100 tons, and this requirement could double if the division was in heavy combat. In the old history, the Luftwaffe delivered a total of 8350 tons over 72 days, or an average of about 117 tons per day. It would therefore only be capable of delivering a third of the ammo required for those nine German divisions Steiner now commanded. His solution was to take three of the four infantry divisions he had withdrawn, and use them to man the northern and western segments of his position, along the line of the Don itself from Vertyachi all the way to Kalach.

On that front, he only had two key areas to defend where there were sites that could support a river crossing. The 129th held a small bridgehead west of Kalach, the 102nd watched the area from Golubinskaya and north along the river; and the 87th held Vertyachi, with its lines extending east along the northern flank. Those three divisions were essentially static, and simply sitting on defense, so they would need no significant daily ammo ration at all unless the Soviets pressed a cross-river attack. This left him with his five mobile divisions, 1st and 2nd SS, Grossdeutschland, Brandenburg, and Wiking Division further south near Nizhne Chirskaya. That division, having fought hard, first at Golubinskaya and then at Surovinko, was now being relieved by Volkov’s 2nd Orenburg Army, and it would go into reserve for some much needed rest and refitting again.

The other four mobile divisions were on attack, benefiting from the sudden windfall of supplies trucked in from Oblivskaya and Surovinko just before the Soviets cut that route. When Steiner moved his HQ, he had brought all the supplies the Korps truck pool could carry, and so he found himself with more than adequate supply to attempt what he was now planning and executing—a sudden violent attack to take Volgograd by storm. He calculated that he could mount a sustained 10 to 14-day offensive with all his mobile divisions, along with support from the 75th Infantry Division, which was now on that line.

In the meantime, the Russians had invested Kalach with 24th Army, and then sent the 9th and 11th Rifle Corps south towards the confluence of the Chir and Don, where Volkov’s troops were now relieving the Wikings. Two Guards Rifle Corps, and three Tank Corps now formed the 5th Tank Army operating in the area between Surovinko and Oblivskaya along the Chir. West of Oblivskaya, was 4th Shock Army, then 3rd Shock, and finally 2nd Shock, their lines extending all the way to the ground some 50 kilometers north of Tatsinskaya.

Then, as Zhukov’s offensive engine continued to burn coal and build steam, he pulled another army together by extracting three tank corps that had been at Tula, Serpukhov and Ryazan. Ad hoc infantry replaced them on the line, which was now a stagnant front, and these three Corps were rushed south into his Don Bridgehead zone, the 3rd, 7th and 10th Tank Corps. This new group would be designated 1st Tank Army, and to strongly augment this force, he pulled the Siberian 5th Shock Army from the Volkov front in the north. Volkov had no offensive capability in that sector, and so the rail lines had been busy, delivering three rifle divisions, four cavalry divisions, two tank and two motorized brigades, and a pair of ski brigades.

So by robbing Peter to pay Paul, Zhukov had produced another very capable force to extend his offensive against the exposed German flank. Phase I, his Operation Uranus, had been a complete success. It had sealed off Kalach, and driven the Germans out of Surovinko. Now he would continue to press with 5th Tank Army against the stubborn German defense at Oblivskaya, while he unleashed his new 1st Tank Army with 5th Shock Group further west in what he was calling “Operation Saturn.” He would direct this attack at the area of Morozovsk and Tatsinskaya, with the long term aim of capturing one or both of those key towns, which both had valuable airfields the Luftwaffe would need to resupply Steiner. That part of the plan was still forming, still mustering on the steppes to the north, but thus far, Operation Uranus had done all he had hoped it would.

Manstein did not think the Russians would attack like this so soon, or in such strength, particularly with the big crisis near Voronezh to contend with. Yet his military mind found the Soviet achievement quite impressive, even if he now had every confidence he could contain the threat. When the meeting at Morozovsk concluded, he did not yet know of the forces gathering to the north in 5th Shock Army. The Russians would move by night, halt by day under white snow draped netting. The Luftwaffe spotted what looked like one large mechanized formation on the 20th, but no word had come to Army Group Don HQ by the 21st.

Manstein had gathered nine divisions to answer Zhukov’s offensives, finally halting the Soviet advance and saving three of the four depot sites on the Chir, as far west as Tatsinskaya. Now, as the first snows began to fall on October 21st, his next battle would be fought to determine the fate of Volgograd. The Russians would fight to hold the city, while continuing to press attacks against the German lines of communications. Manstein would fight to prevent that, while Steiner sent the cream of his force into the warren of death and misery that had once been called Stalingrad.

Chapter 20

Steiner’s attack on the 21st of October came as the first snows had dusted the frozen ground, darkening and chilling the memories of the troops that had fought and endured the Winter of 1941. Here it came again, promising to be colder, deeper, darker than ever, due to the blockage of sunlight that had been caused by the eruption of the Krakatoa volcano in the Pacific.

It brought with it an urgency that was redoubled by Steiner’s mood. He had been driven from his headquarters on the Chir, saw his staff ignominiously packing up all his papers and effects, loading any vehicle at hand with all the supplies, food and fuel they could carry. He had chosen to withdraw east to join the bulk of his Korps, none too happy to see both 3rd and 5th SS left behind to try and halt the Soviet advance. He would now get the Wiking Division back as Volkov’s troops relieved it near Nizhne Chirskaya, and for wergild after losing Totenkopf, he took all the infantry of Hansen’s 54th Korps. Now he was determined to prove that his decision to withdraw east of the Don was one that would deliver a victory at Volgograd.

The Soviets had struggled to set up a perimeter in the north, where Das Reich had been driving towards a long fortified aqueduct that ran northwest from the Volga north of Rynok, shielding the main road and rail line from the north. The previous year, when Volkov had pressed his dogged offensive over the Volga north of the city, that aqueduct had been the strong line of defense that prevented Volkov’s troops from pushing south and enveloping Volgograd from that direction. Now the Russian troops in those bunkers found an enemy at their back, and the engineers had been busy cutting gun ports in the pill boxes, so that all the AT and machineguns could be repositioned to cover an attack from the southwest.

Das Reich was leading that attack, having cut the main rail line at Samofalovka, where it dropped off its Pioneer Battalion, 3rd Panzergrenadier Battalion, two companies from the Recon Battalion and a company of tanks. They took up positions astride the rail line, where the Soviet 58th and 80th Light Tank Battalions were defending with the 99th Rifle Division. The rest of the division struck parallel to the aqueduct defense line, pushing for Rynok. On their right, the full weight of the Leibstandarte Division was advancing on a nine kilometer front, right astride the road to Gorodische. There Chuikov had posted the 112th and 138th Rifle Divisions forward of the tree line sheltering a rail spur that diverted off the main line and ran east towards Rynok, eventually swinging south into the Factory district of northern Volgograd.

The battle hardened SS men hit the Soviet line like a sledgehammer, shattering the defensive front, infiltrating with fast moving recon elements, and pushing right to the outskirts of Gorodische. The pounding of 11th Army’s heavy artillery was earth shaking, and overhead, Stukas rained bombs down on the unlucky Soviet Riflemen. 115th Special Brigade was also hit in that same attack, surrounded on the main road that passed just north of the fortified Gumrak Airfield.

Brandenburg Division came next, just south of Leibstandarte, its mission to push directly for that airfield at Gumrak, which Steiner wanted for his forward air supply base. In their way were the remnants of the 36th Guards Rifle Division. The attack was merciless, overrunning 3rd Regiment, surrounding the remainder of the division, and pushing through the hole in the line to attack the enemy division HQ. 75th Infantry was on their right, helping to open and widen the breach, as infantry does so well when it advances to hold the shoulder of any penetration by the mobile troops. They had hit the Russian 95th Rifle Division hard as well, and now that entire position was dissolving into confusion, with the fighting hand to hand wherever the Russian infantry refused to withdraw.

That would be the most serious breakthrough achieved that day, and just south of that breach, Grossdeutschland was pushing right up the main road to the newly built suburb of the city, Novo Kirovka. It had built up west of the river in the vicinity of the Oil Tank Farm, Nail Factory, and Water Works, and a new Red Square had also been built there opposite the ferry to Krasnaya Sloboda, the heavily fortified mid-stream island that stood as the first barrier of defense against any attack across the Volga from the east.

That area of the city had once been named Yelshanka, but now that district was moved south, closer to Beketova. The push by the Grossdeutschland Division, if successful, would be cutting off all of Shumilov’s 64th Army, largely opposed by Volkov’s troops, which were content to simply sit there and wait for the Soviets to withdraw. They had been unable to move their enemy for years, and thought they would do no better now, yet with the Germans in the game, they would eagerly occupy ground their newfound ally forced the Russians to yield. Shumilov could not hold his present positions with Grossdeutschland behind him to the north.

All Chuikov had to try and stop this formidable attack was the 45th Rifle Division, understrength and low on supply. So the field phones at Chuikov’s HQ near the old Army Barracks were ringing off the hook. His four rifle divisions between the aqueduct and Gumrak airfield were being swamped, and now they were attempting to fall back towards the city. A hole had developed south of Gumrak, where 36th Guard Division had been overrun and nearly destroyed by the Brandenburgers. Shumilov’s troops to the south were now exposed, and would be forced to give up more ground, falling back towards the heavy urban areas closer to the river.

“Shumilov!” said Chuikov over the telephone line. “We cannot hold astride the road to Novo Kirovka. You must get your men back to the city!”

“Don’t worry,” came the reply. “I have two light tank brigades as a mobile reserve. They will cover the main road while I get the infantry back. But who will hold the center?”

“39th Guards is in the Worker’s Settlement. I will try to bring in the 37th Guards tonight on the river barges.”

“Under Volkov’s guns?”

“They won’t expect it. We’ve been running three or four barges a night on supply lifts. They’ve seen them, fired a few rounds of artillery, but made no real effort beyond that. I think I can get the men through. As it stands, I may not be able to get much back from the outer defense line west of the city, so we need those guardsmen.”

“What about the 13th?”

“They’re in the factory district, and the Germans are pushing for Rynok, so that is where they will stay.”

“And the Volga Rifles?”

“Up on the aqueduct line, what’s left of them. They came over the Don three days ago north of Vertyachi to help hold the aqueduct. As long as we have that, then we can get supplies fairly close to the city from the north, and ferry them in each night. It’s our only option. We’ll lose Gumrak Airfield by tomorrow.”

“Very well,” said Shumilov. “My army is still reasonably intact. I will reposition to hold Novo Kirovka.”

“What about Beketova?” Chuikov cautioned. “If we give that up, then everything on Sarpinskiy Island is good for nothing.”

“I’ll leave two divisions there. Volkov’s boys will have to fight if they want winter quarters. I’ll not hand it to them. It was enough that we had to give up our fortified lines at Krasnoarmeysk!”

“Good,” said Chuikov. “Then you will be responsible for Yelshanka and Novo Kirovka, and God be with you. We got word from a cavalry reconnaissance brigade near the railroad bridge to the south. Volkov is relieving the German SS division that was holding near Nizhne Chirskaya. It’s heading north, so keep that in mind. I assume you will be moving your headquarters soon?”

“Tonight,” said Shumilov. “I will call you with the new location after we are set up.”

That night the position of the 62nd Army west of the city collapsed, with 45th, 95th and 112th Rifle Divisions virtually destroyed, and 36th Guards reduced to a single regiment, the division HQ overrun and captured. The remainder of the division would never see friendly lines again. Shumilov waited for cover of darkness to withdraw, his forces folding back and extending their lines towards Novo Kirovka to the north. His 13th Tank and 66th Special Rifle Brigades arrived there just in time to find the recon elements of the Grossdeutschland Division probing at the outskirts of the city.

As dawn came on the 22nd of October, elements of both 1st SS and the Brandenburgers had Gumrak Airfield surrounded, where the stubborn 72nd NKVD Brigade still held out in the fortified pillboxes around the complex. The Germans were pounding them with heavy artillery, being careful to avoid directing fires on the airstrip itself. Seeing what was happening, the NKVD Colonel Rybayev got on the radio and begged Chuikov to fire his guns at the airfield, in effect, calling friendly artillery down on his own position to attempt to damage the field. Chuikov refused. He could fire those guns any time he wished, and would not do so with brave men still fighting for that ground.

Further north the rest of the Brandenburgers, and elements of 1st SS, were consolidating after a hard night’s fighting. They advanced towards the city, coming upon the Pyolomny Ravine and finding it undefended. The enemy had withdrawn towards the Kirov Flying School and the old Army Barracks where Chuikov had his HQ. Needless to say, like Shumilov, he was also moving his headquarters that day. 1st SS was now widely dispersed, having pushed right through Gorodiche and Alexsandrovka to approach the gnarled fingers of a balka that extended up from the Airfield Settlement. At the end of one withered branch of that feature, a stone rampart had been erected that extended in an arc to the south, covering the Flying School.

There were the remnants of 36th, 37th and 39th Guards Divisions, each reduced to about a regiment in size now, and together combining to form a new Provisional Guards Division. The Guardsmen were just starting to dig in behind that wall, ready for a fight. On their right, the relatively fresh 308th Siberian Division had just arrived from the Factory District. Chuikov decided he could not concede the ground remaining east of the city unfought, and he had nothing else to plug the line. This still left him the 13th Guards at the factories, which he deemed an adequate defense. Even though Volkov’s troops had been very static in recent months, there was always a threat at his back.

Immediately north, the 193rd Division had not been engaged by Das Reich, and so it withdrew intact, taking up new defensive positions screening the Barrikady Worker’s Settlement, their right flank manned by troops from the tough 10th NKVD Division. Then came the Samara Rifles, a unit that had come all the way from that city, tramping over the Aqueduct bridge, like knights arriving at a beleaguered Castle just as the enemy siege engines were being pulled forward to attack. There were now deploying west of the large bunkers that had been called the Mushrooms, heavy concrete bunkers that had been built during the Volkov wars. Behind them, the 2nd Volga Rifles were finally arriving near Rynok after a three-day march from the Don, and they would be the northernmost defenders, their mission to keep open the one road and access to the Volga itself in that sector.

Now Steiner reassessed his position, seeing that Das Reich was strung out from Orlovka all the way back to Samafalovka on the main rail line. So he ordered the 75th Infantry Division to mop up what was left of enemy resistance and then begin moving north. He would position that division on the northern shoulder opposite the aqueduct defense line, and in so doing, free up Das Reich for the push towards Rynok.

“It was a good day!” he exclaimed, a fist full of division status reports in hand. “We went through them like they weren’t even there!”

Steiner had seen his Korps perform yet another smashing attack against Chuikov’s outer defense line, with one division after another battering through the line like the successive blows of Thor’s Hammer. Now he was closing on the city, and the battle, that had consumed 1.7 million men in the old history.

He was closing on Thor’s Anvil.

West of the Don, Eicke’s Division pushed forward against a blocking force put up by the 81st Motor Rifle Division. It had been on the main road to Surovinko, which dipped well south of the River Chir. To his right as planned, the 9th Panzer Division engaged the 3rd Guard Rifle Division, who were suddenly surprised by the ferocity and scale of the German counterattack.

As for Balck, by day’s end he had moved southeast to Verkhne Solonov, consolidating briefly south of State Farm 79. Now he made good his maxim that night marches save blood, intending to swing further east towards the Chir after dark. He had no intention of attacking due north through the neighboring hamlet of Nizhne Solonov. Instead that night march would see his division appear on the enemy’s flank and rear the following morning with a maneuver that was classic Hermann Balck. 5th Guard Rifle Division was going to have uninvited guests for breakfast.

1st Panzergrenadier Battalion of the 111th Regiment reached the road heading north from Nizhne Chirskaya, where one of Hauptmann Paul Hauser’s recon troops had scouted to report what he first thought were Russian troops crossing from the southern bank of the Don. It was soon learned that they were a division of Volkov’s 2nd Orenburg, securing that bridge and town, and the railway bridge to the north as they relieved the Wiking Division. With the flank and rear scouted and secure, Hauser notified Balck by sending a prearranged “Code Blue.”

Fifteen minutes later the attack began, with 4th Panzergrenadier Battalion storming up that road to the height of Hill 528, where they drove off a Soviet flak battery that had been setting up there that morning. From that height, they had a perfect view of the State Farm to the southwest, for now they were actually behind that position. They quickly radioed in the locations of the three Brigades making up the enemy division. One was near a small balka south of the farm, a second at the edge of the cultivated area, a third on its right at the hamlet of Sysoyevski. The brigade on the balka would be attacked first, and Balck ordered both battalions of his division artillery to pour on the fire.

The Guardsmen fought tenaciously, but eventually gave ground in the face of Balck’s armor, retreating north only to find they were already cut off by two more companies of tanks. Driven back to the edge of the State Farm, they were then overrun by III Battalion of the 111th Regiment, the fighting hand to hand amid the bales of hay and broken wood fences of the outer farm. Ahead lay the barren orchard, the leafless trees now in “Stick Season.” The German division was now pivoting to engage the second brigade, even while the Russian Division HQ was fleeing madly northwest away from the farm.

By mid-day the 5th Guards had given up this embattled people’s Commune, falling back north to make a linkup with the 7th Guards, who were retreating in the face of the attack put in by 9th Panzer Division. On the main road east, Totenkopf was heavily engaged with the 25th Tank Corps, but the Russians still had the 24th and 1st Guard Tank Corps in reserve, both north of the Chir.

Balck came up along the road to Nizhne Chirskaya, finding the man he wanted to speak with again. “Hauser!” he called, seeing his intrepid Captain standing on top of his armored car, his eyes lost in a pair of binoculars. Hauser turned, offering a stiff salute and a wide grin as the General came up.

“What is the situation east on the Chir?”

“I’ve had men out that way this morning,” said Hauser. “There is a small secondary road that runs north to south along the river. About 9 klicks from here, there is a small village—Ostrovskiy. Beyond that town the ground firms up a bit. It’s a crossing point you want, correct?”

“You can read my mind,” said Balck.

“Well, there’s only one thing to deal with. A heavy assault gun regiment is parked in that town. I think they were sent down from Surovinko to block that road. That has to be where that big Guards Armored Corps is—Surovinko. They’ve been licking their wounds and keeping warm behind this screen of infantry we’ve been after. Well General, if you want to get over that river, there is no defense on the east bank, not at the moment. The 11th Rifle Corps pushed past that area yesterday. They are south, the tail end of their column at Bolshe Osinovka.”

“You learned all this this morning?” Balck was impressed.

“Well before breakfast, Herr General.” Hauser smiled.

Balck thought for a moment. “Is the river iced up yet?”

“Not quite. Not thick enough for the vehicles. It would have to be bridged, but the infantry would have no problem.”

Hauser would lead the way that afternoon, bringing up three companies of the 15th Panzer Regiment, and a battalion of Panzergrenadiers. By sunset, the Germans had Ostrovskiy, forcing the Russian Heavy SPGs back towards Kalinovka. During the fighting, Hauser again personally scouted the riverbed, identifying a nice shallow icy spot with a good gravel bottom that might even allow the vehicles to pass over it without much assistance. He notified Balck at sunset.

The plan was discovered by an alert Soviet Guardsman with a rocket battery. He had gone to the river to fetch a bucket of cold water to cool down the barrels of his Katyusha battery, when he saw what looked like German troops near the edge of the river. Hastening back, he reported to his Sergeant, and the word leapt up the chain of command to Surovinko, some 4 kilometers north of his position. There, the 1st Guard Tank had been resupplying, but this alarm, and the duel fought by its SPG regiment at Ostrovskiy, were enough to prompt action. That town was soon to be counterattacked by tanks from the 15th and 16th Guard Tank Brigades, and Hauser was on the radio to Balck reporting that the Russians had moved more tanks directly opposite the section of the river he had selected for the crossing.

“They can read a map,” said Balck, shaking his head. “Very well, Code Yellow. We must see what is happening at Ostrovskiy.”

Chapter 21

Buoyed by his dramatic breakthrough towards Volgograd, Steiner convened a meeting of his key Division commanders to plan the attack. “As you can see,” he said. “Their resistance has broken—even those two Guards divisions they threw at us. Now we must decide how best to carve up the hen. Keppler? What is the situation with Das Reich? Dietrich?”

“We have taken Orlovka,” said Keppler, a bespeckled man of 48 years who had come to the SS after commanding state police units between the wars. “They are falling back to a belt of woodland closer to the city. But that damn aqueduct is going to be a problem. I’ve covered it with flak and AT units, and the pioneers, but I think it will take a little more. This will mean I’ll have only one Panzergrenadier Regiment and the panzers to press any attack in the north.”

“What about 75th Infantry? They should be able to cover that front.”

“It’s a long way for a single division. We haven’t even reached the river in the north yet, and I think we must do so. They are still using roads leading north there, and my recon battalion continues to see more troops arriving. Those roads have to be cut, and when we get to the river, our artillery can stop any further attempt to move in supplies on the water. That said, I would need my whole division to push through.

“Where?”

“Here,” Keppler pointed. “At Rynok. It would mean that Dietrich’s Division would have to position itself to cover my right.”

“Uncle Sepp?” said Steiner, looking at the strong faced Dietrich. His broad nose, prominent dimpled chin and stern aspect were well known anywhere, for Dietrich had been Hitler’s personal bodyguard and chauffer in the early days. He was a headstrong and willful man, and still so well favored by the Fuhrer, that he often dismissed orders from SS Chief Himmler, a man he thought of as nothing more than a beady eyed administrator. Dietrich was a warrior, through and through, and his solutions to problems often involved violence as a first step, with consideration and planning later.

“We can turn in that direction, but my men are strung out all along that rampart and balka leading to the airfield settlement.”

“You will not need to make a direct assault across those lines,” said Steiner. “Here is what I propose. The Korps will make a general move to the north, with the Brandenburgers aiming their attack at the Kirov Airfield and Barracks. Once taken, that entire rampart is then outflanked, and it will compel the enemy to withdraw. So Dietrich, you need only screen that position, and then throw your weight north on Keppler’s shoulder. I think he is correct. We have not yet entirely isolated the city by shutting that back door, and we must do so before we can really count the guests and sit down to dinner. Do you agree, General Beckermann?” He looked to the tall, aristocratic figure commanding the Brandenburg Division, a unit that should not even exist yet, a joker in time’s deck of fate.

“Agreed,” said Beckermann, a sharp eyed man, blonde haired, with deep blue eyes. “Once we take the airfield, we can then push into this open ground and move toward that big bald hill to the east.”

“Mamayev Kurgan,” said Steiner. “Yes, that will cut the city right in two, and from those heights, we can command the city center. Very well, make that your long term objective. General Hörnlein, as you are on Beckermann’s right, I would then see your division move slightly north to occupy his positions on the Dubovy Ravine. Then begin fighting your way into these outlying segments of the city at Maxim Gorki. Push into this gap here north of Novo Kirovka. It will take you right to the heart of the city itself, right along this balka. With any luck, in a week to ten days we will sit down to a performance in the Gorki Theater overlooking the river, and we’ll parade all the Russian Generals on the stage.” He smiled, but Hörnlein was in no mood for levity.

“I’m afraid it will take more than luck,” he said.

Steiner pivoted to face him. “You have concerns?”

“It will be no easy thing to push into that gap between Novo Kirovka and Volgograd, and even more difficult going when we get to the main built up areas of the city.”

“Don’t worry,” said Steiner quickly. “You will not have to rely on Volkov’s troops to cover the flank any longer. The Wiking Division is coming up from Nizhne Chirskaya.”

“Oh? I thought they were still outside the pocket.”

“Pocket?” Steiner shook his head. “We are not in a pocket, Herr General. That is where the enemy finds himself, particularly after Keppler and Dietrich complete this planned maneuver. Now then, when Otto Gille brings up my old warhorse, the Wiking Division will cover all of Novo Kirovka. I intend to simply use Volkov’s troops to invest Yelshanka and Beketova. This will allow you to attack as I have suggested. Any further concerns?”

Hörnlein inclined his head, taking a deep breath. “I think we must not become overconfident here,” he said. “This is a very big city—the size of Moscow in total area, even though it is strung out along the river like a big lamb chop. City fighting is very tough, as we all well know, and a city like this can swallow a division in little time. They might very well fight us in there from one house to the next. The wide frontages our divisions now occupy will compress, because to attack we must concentrate. Casualties will be high. What we need here is more infantry.”

“I have one regiment of the 129th in reserve at Kalach,” said Steiner, “but beyond that, unless we thin out the lines along the Don, our divisions will have to do the job. Is your division fit for the upcoming battle?”

“The troops have fought hard, but morale is good, and supplies are holding up. The equipment is in reasonable shape as well. Yet realize that all our divisions have been at it since late July. If we were at our nominal strength, I would have far less to consider here, but as it stands, my ranks have been thinned by over thirty percent. I would dare say the same for all the rest here. Mark my words, this will be a very difficult fight, and it will likely take much longer than we anticipate. They fought us like hellcats, delayed our push over that river for six damn weeks. Now they will do the same here.”

“Do not be so maudlin, General Hörnlein. Don’t forget we still have strong forces west of the Don. They are organizing for a thrust against this enemy spoiling attack, and they will open the road to Kalach in due course. Then we will get our infantry. You will see.”

“Then why not wait for that? Why not consolidate now, rest the troops, and forego any major push into the city proper until we do have adequate infantry support?”

“What? And let them continue to reinforce this position?”

“No, we cannot permit that,” said Hörnlein. “Dietrich and Keppler should operate as you propose to isolate the city. I believe this was General Manstein’s plan from the very first.”

“Indeed? Well, it is my plan now,” said Steiner gruffly. “Yet you disagree with the assignments given to Beckermann and yourself?”

“No General, the strategy is sound, it is the execution and timing I question, that is all. Yes, if Beckermann takes the airfield, that rampart position must fall. But I do not think he should then immediately push for Mamayev Kurgan. He should consolidate, and we should convene this meeting again to set the timing of the next phase of operations. As for my division, we can move as you have ordered, wait for the Wikings to make contact on our right, then begin working our way down that ravine. Yet I do not think we can reach the river in a week’s time, or even ten days. That is the heart of the city, and they will fight for it. We should take these initial objectives, then meet again to assess the situation.”

Steiner took a deep breath. “General Beckermann?”

“Once I take that airfield, then I will have the Tsarista Gorge on my right as I push for that big hill. If Hörnlein pushes into that gap as you propose, and moves up that other ravine, that still leaves a great mass of the southern city between our two divisions. Under normal circumstances, and if we both had our full divisions, I would not be concerned. As it stands, perhaps General Hörnlein is correct. We should not move to press for the river in this sector until we assess the situation further. If Manstein breaks through again soon as you suggest, all the better. We will get the infantry we need. But let us take things in stages here.”

“Very well,” said Steiner. “We isolate the city first, with the main effort in the north involving Dietrich and Keppler. Then we’ll see where things stand. Don’t worry, gentlemen. They are as worn out and tired as our men are but it will take three of their soldiers to match one of ours. Of this I have no doubt. Remember, they are not standing outside Berlin. We are here for a reason, and now we will finish the job.”

“Considering that,” said Hörnlein, “How many divisions are we still facing here?”

“We’ve had the Luftwaffe up for a very good look. They have identified at least seven divisions still operating with the 62nd army, and a few ad hoc brigades. In the south, 64th Army has at least five good divisions still on the line, and they are largely unfought. They continue to hold onto Beketova, Yelshanka, and all of Sarpinskiy island, and that is all the more reason for you to push aggressively, General Hörnlein. Get to the river and that entire army is cut off and out of the picture. We can deal with it later.”

“Twelve full divisions, and a few brigades you say.” Hörnlein nodded. “Then it will be very close to the ratio you suggested a moment ago—three to one in their favor. Let us hope our soldiers as every bit as capable as we believe they are.”

“They are very weak on armor,” said Steiner, somewhat irritated. “Don’t forget that. Our tanks will grind them into the rubble.”

“Of that I have little doubt,” said Hörnlein. “It’s what might be under that rubble that concerns me—in the cellars. I cannot take my tanks into the sewers. That’s work for infantry. So let us hope that Manstein moves as expeditiously as you suggest. We will need that infantry, and sooner than we may think.”

What Steiner did not know was the real strength and composition of the forces waiting for him in Volgograd. He had assumed that these divisions would be every bit as fragile as those he had just destroyed, but in fact, their ranks were swelled by all the remnants and stragglers that made their way back to the city. Instead of trying to reconstitute those lost divisions, the remains of 45th, 95th and 112th Rifle Divisions were simply folded into the ranks of Chuikov’s remaining formations to bring them up to strength.

Nor did Steiner know the character and caliber of the men he would be facing. The long grinding fight to get where he was, partly by his own will, and partly because he had been chased out of his HQ in Surovinko, should have given him a measure of Hörnlein’s caution, but he still seemed heedless. The Samara Rifles had stood a long watch over the bend in the Volga against Volkov’s many attempts to secure that place. Now, with action on that front subsiding, it had come by rail to take up a defensive position west of Rynok and Spartanovka, and it was going to be very tough that day. On its right, the crack 2nd Volga Rifles were now taking up positions, and on their left the stalwart 10th NKVD Brigade was moving up, making the defense of that vital sector as secure as any place in Chuikov’s front.

Chuikov had only just arrived at his new headquarters, a secure chamber inside the Red October Factory. His wild dark hair was disheveled, and his cheeks sagged with the signs of the strain of these recent weeks, but his eyes were still bright and active beneath his gnarled forehead and those heavy brows. He was wondering what had become of Shumilov, for he had not phoned in to report the location of his new headquarters since their previous conversation. Then, to his great surprise, in walked Shumilov with a single staffer at his side. A heavy set man, built like a russet potato, Shumilov pulled off the wool cap that kept the snow from his balding head.

“Cold night,” he said simply. “But everyone moved as planned. I thought I would come find you directly, as we must make a difficult decision concerning Beketova.”

“Come in,” said Chuikov with a smile. “Warm yourself. The staff is just getting things set up again.” He gestured to a chair by an old worn table lit by a single oil lamp. “As to Beketova, it has been on my mind as well. Did you leave two divisions there?”

“Just one, the 1st Siberian.” That was the old 29th Rifle Division, raised from veterans of the fighting near Omsk by Karpov’s Siberians. He had sent it east some time ago, and Zhukov posted it here as the 29th Division. But being one of the first Siberian divisions to arrive, the Soviets had taken to calling it the 1st Siberian.

“They are good men,” said Shumilov, “and I could leave them there as you wish, but I question the benefit to our defense here. By holding onto Beketova, it forces me to extend my lines well south. Now it looks like the Germans brought up that other SS Division that withdrew over the Don at Nizhne Chirskaya and Tormosin. It is already probing at Yelshanka and Kupersnoye. If they push through, everything to the south will be cut off.”

“But what about Sarpinskiy Island?” said Chuikov. That was the key, for the main ferry at Beketova offered an easy crossing point to the big marshy island south of Volgograd. The Soviets had been holding it for years, and still had troops amounting to two divisions there as a garrison.

“What about it?” said Shumilov. “Do you think Volkov wants it? He hasn’t tried our positions there for over a year. If you want my opinion, and you do, I think we should fall back to Yelshanka. Then I can take the 1st Siberians out of Beketova, and the 185th out of Kupersnoye, and those troops would make a good strong reserve for the real fight here at Volgograd. On Sarpinskiy Island, we can hold on to the ferry sites across from the 25th of October Lumber Trust. That area is well fortified, and with it, we still hold the trunk of the island. As for the elephant, I cannot see any purpose in holding it. We certainly can’t retreat there, and the ground is too bad for Volkov to drag his artillery over. If he wants it, let him come.”

“Yet that is a lot of territory to yield without a fight.”

“Just fat on the steak,” said Shumilov. “We waste three divisions trying to hold it with Beketova, and having those troops in Volgograd gives us much more depth and resilience there. All the Germans will do is turn Beketova over to Volkov’s troops, and then, after we beat the Germans, we can run Volkov out of the place any time we choose.”

Chuikov ran a hand through that dark mane of hair, the lion’s mane as his staffers called it. “Alright,” he said leaning over the map. “Pull the 1st Siberian out. Send the headquarters and all the artillery by the coast road and rail line through Kupersnoye. Anything left can take the ferry by river and land at the Lumber Trust. When that movement is complete, then fold back the 185th Division to hold Yelshanka. The troops we have in eastern Sarpinskiy can go by the coast road through Peschanyy to the inner fortified zone near the river. There is already fighting outside Yelshanka. Let us hope this redeployment can finish before we lose it.”

“I will see to it personally. My new headquarters will be in the sawmills of the Lumber Trust. If not there, then the Cannery building. This move will pay us good dividends,” he smiled. “And the Germans will do the paying.”

“Do one thing more,” said Chuikov. “After we have pulled out the last of the rafts and gunboats, open the taps on the oil tank farm near Beketova. Let it flow right into the river, and then set it all aflame. That will stop any enemy movement on the river for some time, and cover your withdrawal.”

Shumilov smiled. “There will be fire on the Volga tonight,” he said, and with a stiff salute, he strode off to see to his business. Later when he saw that river burning, he passed a moment thinking of this brief reprieve, when the fires of war were held at bay by the fires of nature. Yet the longer he watched the red sky over the water, the deeper came the feeling of isolation and quiet fear, like a man who had set his own house on fire to save it from brigands and buglers suddenly realizing he was still trapped inside.