Tigers East

Chapter 25

While O’Connor was advancing into Tripolitania, the Germans achieved a dramatic breakthrough north and south of Voronezh in late September. 2nd Panzer Army had clamped the city in an enormous vise, then the infantry freed up by the Soviet withdrawals came up to relieve those troops, allowing them to continue east. A small pocket formed around Voronezh, trapping 16 Soviet divisions, including most of the 2nd Guards Army and supporting troops. The drive east saw Hoth in the north, his 3rd Panzer Armee holding the northern shoulder, and Model’s larger 2nd Panzer Armee for the main offensive. German recon elements raced ahead through the breach. Cutting rail lines to prevent the enemy from using them to bring in speedy reserves.

South of the city, 24th Siberian held the shoulder, and Zhukov was forced to pull back everything he still had west of the upper Don. With strong infantry support available, the Germans shifted 12th and 55th Infantry Korps to that shoulder, again freeing up Model’s Panzers to move further east. There was a sharp battle around the railhead town of Panino, 80 kilometers east of Voronezh on 1 October, but the sheer mass of the German advance overwhelmed the defense. To the north and south, the ground was now a sea of mud, but Model cleverly found the hardened rail bed a perfect avenue for his drive. It ran southeast to the city of Anna, which is exactly where he wanted to go.

By October 8th, The Germans were 100 kilometers east of Voronezh and the Don, advancing into territory that they never occupied during Operation Blue in the old history. In fact, this was the original intention of Operation Blue as it was first conceived. The Germans wanted to pierce the enemy line east of Voronezh, and with that breakthrough, turn to attack the Soviet position south of the Don from the rear. It was their inability to make this breakthrough in Fedorov’s history, that forced them to instead move along the southern bank of the Don, which remained a bulwark of the Soviet defensive front. Now, the stunning pincer operation Halder had planned would deliver Voronezh, and write all new history with that speedy drive east.

At his wits end, Zhukov pulled units back over the Don, then pushed them north, including the entire 50th Army under Petrov, which extended the southern shoulder of the German penetration as it pushed east. He then set about grabbing any rear area unit he could find, border security regiments, NKVD guards, railroad battalions, flack units, and service troops, and threw them in a haphazard line to extend the northern shoulder. His problem was that he had no substantial force available in this area to stage a counterattack to try and blunt the German drive.

To make matters worse, the German 17th Army took Rossosh as the Soviets pulled out, then launched a surprise night river crossing operation just north of Pavlovsk on the Don. That attack was driving up the rail line past Voronskova towards Burnurlinkova. It was acting as a small southern pincer and, if Model shifted his drive south, he would bag 36 divisions, all the troops of 3rd and 11th Armies, along with 24th Siberian. It was another disaster in the making.

“They persist,” Zhukov said to Sergei Kirov. “The mud is slowing them down in the open country, but they are advancing up the hardened rail lines. This attack to the south of Burnurlinkova must be contained by counterattack, so I have moved Yeremenko’s 4th Shock Army to the rail lines, and pulled the 1st Special Rifle Corps under Katukov out of the Boguchar Bridgehead as well.”

“4th Shock Army?” said Kirov. “Those were troops you were holding for the Winter Offensive.”

“Yes, but that is all I can use. There is nothing else in reserve, and I’ve raided every nest I could find, from cities as far away as Tambov and Saratov, just to find scattered remnants that were reforming in the rear and throw something in front of those panzer divisions. The line won’t hold. It will have to be the mud that eventually stops them.”

“What can Katukov do?”

“He has good troops: 1st and 7th Guards Rifle Divisions, 4th and 11th Tank Brigades, and with all new T-34s, and then the 12th and 27th Cavalry Divisions along with a few smaller supporting regiments. These were the troops that fought at Mtsensk and saved Tula last Winter. They will be enough to challenge this southern pincer that crossed the Don at Pavlovsk. As for the German 2nd Panzer Army, it will take a strong fresh army to stop them. 4th Shock Army was in the Serafomovich Bridgehead. It was slated to be the exploitation Army for Operation Uranus. It is either that, or nothing.”

“Why not pull back all those armies and form a new line running from Anna, through Burnurlinkova, and then to Voronsovka?”

“We could do that as well,” said Zhukov, “but then all the German infantry presently opposite those armies will be free to redeploy again. They can thin out their line, shift troops north into the penetration, and that could allow the panzers even more freedom of movement.”

Kirov stared at the map, his brow deeply furrowed. They were in uncharted territory here, fighting for cities that Stalin had never lost. On the Volgograd Front, Steiner was pushing up the road from Martinovka towards Volgograd, and this also forced the Soviets to abandon the Beketova bulge, terrain they had held south of the city opposite Volkov’s troops. That fortified line had held for years, but now it was simply abandoned as the defense there focused more and more on the immediate approaches to the city. Yet this crisis east of Voronezh was the most serious event on the table. A decision had to be made.

“If you send 4th Shock Army, can it stop those panzers?”

“Possibly. At the very least we will take hold of the tiger’s jaws and keep them from closing for a time. Katukov will stop the southern pincer, and 4th Shock attacks the main drive in the north. But do not expect them to do anything more. We can probably halt the German advance, but taking ground back is out of the question.”

“What if we allowed a pocket to form? The Kirov pocket held up the German advance on Moscow a year ago, and it held out for over six months.”

“That was because we had a major city at its heart. Burnurlinkova cannot supply all the armies that would be in that pocket here, over 36 divisions.”

“What about Volgograd?”

“I have a train arriving from Saratov. It isn’t much, a single rifle division and three or four regiments of engineers, flack units, AT battalions. I’ve also shifted three divisions from the line of the Volga north of the city. I do not think Volkov will try another attack there after what happened to him last time.”

“What if he does? He got over the river there before.”

“Then, Mister General Secretary, we have the Volgograd pocket, and if that happens, I will attack with everything we have left in the Serafimovich Bridgehead and try to reach the Chir again. They have the rail line open there now. The supply it has been delivering is the reason Steiner was able to break the stalemate. I had 18 divisions against those SS troops. It took that much to hold them in check for so long. The Volga Rifles practically died to a man. Only one division in the corps remains.”

“We have nothing else in reserve? No more tank corps?”

“I have three rifle divisions and a few tank brigades at Ryazan, and four or five airborne regiments guarding key airfields. Aside from units in the Serafimovich Bridgehead, the only free tank corps are well west of Moscow, in the North Front sector. I was holding them for a spoiling attack.”

“They would be better used where it matters, but we must step up tank production dramatically.”

“That would be wise, but unfortunately, everything is in Siberia or up at Perm, and both production and delivery is very slow. The factories in Volgograd have enough to do just repairing damaged tanks we send them. The Germans have most every other major production center. Aircraft deliveries are better, as the Americans have sent us a good deal through Siberia. Tanks take longer, and we need them desperately. I massed damn near every heavy tank I could scrape from the lines into a division for Operation Uranus.”

At that moment, a messenger arrived with a stiff salute and trouble in his eyes. Model had again broken through the thin screen of units that Zhukov had thrown at his advance. The Germans had tanks in Arkangelskoye 40 kilometers east of Anna, and other units were flowing through a 20 kilometer breach in the front and turning south. This was also compounded by a big push north to Martinovka by Steiner’s SS that broke the stalemate in the Kalach Bridgehead. The Germans had cleared the terrain north of the road to the city to a depth of eight to ten kilometers, and Volgograd was now under direct threat of attack. Three Divisions were now reorganizing prior to commencing offensive operations.

“Choose your poison,” said Zhukov. “On the Voronezh Front, they are trying to pocket those armies we spoke of earlier. I suggest we attempt to extricate them, withdrawing through Burnurlinkova while we still can. The rail line south from there is already cut in at least one place. If not, then our entire line south of the Don in those bridgeheads will soon be under threat.”

“Do it. Save those troops. Cover your bridgeheads. They are the only force we have that can stage a creditable attack, the only eggs we still have in the nest.”

“And Volgograd?”

“Could you move some units from your bridgeheads to help defend the city?”

“It would take time,” said Zhukov. “We still hold the Don crossing at Golubinskaya. That road allows us to feed units into the defense north of Martinovka, easing the pressure on the city. I could send 4th Shock Army there instead of sending it to the Voronezh Front. Choose your poison, Mister General Secretary. I can do one or the other, but not both.”

Kirov rubbed his chin. “Berzin? Do you have an opinion on any of this?”

Berzin cleared his throat. “I know you have a strong psychological bond to Volgograd, and not just because half the city in the south has been renamed Novo Kirovka. But in my mind, the Voronezh Front is the more serious situation. If the German advance is not halted there, it will unhinge the entire line south of the Don, and foil the General’s plan for Operation Uranus as well. Send Yeremenko north.”

“Agreed,” said Zhukov. “Voronezh is the real crisis at the moment.”

Kirov shook his head. “And without 4th Shock Army, what chance does your Operation Uranus have?”

“A good offensive needs three things,” said Zhukov. “It needs mass, like water behind a dam. It needs shock to break that dam, and then it need speed to exploit the breach and penetrate as deeply into enemy territory as possible before he can react. With 4th Shock Army, Operation Uranus gets all three of those things. Without it, the battle becomes nothing more than a spoiling attack, just like Operation Mars.”

“Yet even that saw us get tanks as far south as Morozovsk.”

“For a day. Without support, they had to withdraw, and without 4th Shock Army, nothing would get that far in any case.”

Kirov had to decide. “Two balloons,” he said, prompting Berzin to look at Zhukov quizzically. But Kirov explained. “The first is this big group here, the armies south of Voronezh that we just pulled back over the Don. Now this German drive to the north threatens to pocket them. The second balloon is the big buildup you have labored to create in our Serafimovich Bridgehead. You say it is ready to strike, but now we stand here contemplating how best to minimize its chances by stripping Yeremenko’s troops away to send them north, or east to Volgograd. Well, we will do neither.”

“I don’t understand,” said Berzin. “We must do something, and quickly.”

“We will. Time to let the air out of both balloons. General Zhukov, those armies under threat south of Voronezh—pull them back as you have suggested. Form your line anew running from Voronsovka in the south, where Katukov is dealing with this infantry pincer. Then anchor it on Burnurlinkova, and run it up to Arkangelskoye. This will cover your Don bridgeheads and buy us time. It is mid-October. Winter must come soon, and god help us if it is late.”

“General Winter?” said Zhukov. “Oh, he is never late. In fact, he may arrive early this year. That volcano that erupted in the Pacific has had some rather dramatic effects on the weather. Very well, Mister General Secretary, I will do as you order. But the second balloon? Do I send 4th Shock Army north to stop Model, or to Golubinskaya to support the defense north of Volgograd?”

Kirov kept staring at the map. “General,” he said. “This operation you have planned for winter. Could it be launched early?”

Zhukov raised an eyebrow. “The ground in the south is still firm,” he said, thinking. “Mother Rasputista was not so generous there. So yes, the armies are ready, and I suppose I could attack at any time.”

“Haven’t the Germans strengthened their line after your abortive Mars offensive?”

“They have. The 14th Panzer Korps is in the Bouguchar sector, and one of their SS divisions has moved to the line south of Perelazovski opposite the Serafimovich Bridgehead.”

“Will it prevent this attack from succeeding?”

“It will be a rock in the stream, but the infantry on either side will be the target of our breakthroughs.”

“And the aim of this operation?”

“To get to the main road and rail lines along the River Chir. All their supplies are in depots there—Morozovsk, Oblivskaya, Surovinko. If we take those, or even any one of the three, we cut Steiner’s offensive off at the root.”

“Can’t he get supplies from Volkov’s territory south of Volgograd?”

“He might get some gasoline, but Volkov does not manufacture the ammunition and equipment he needs to sustain his operations.”

“Very well, then attack. Use 4th Shock Army as you have already planned. The best defense is a good offense. I see no merit in dissipating the power you have labored so hard to build up there, so attack, General, and may God go with you.”

Katukov’s defense on the southern pincer against the German 17th Army was masterful. He contained the breakthrough, and was counterattacking when the retreat order was given to pull those five armies out of that imminent pocket. The men fell back under a protective artillery barrage, dragging any guns and equipment they could move through the mud.

To their north, the breakthrough by Model’s 2nd Panzer Army looked far more serious than it was. The German offensive was played out. They were advancing still because they had virtually nothing in front of them, though supplies and fuel shortages were already stopping units in the field, where they would sit for hours, sometimes days, waiting for the trucks to catch up and bring the gasoline.

The panzer divisions were all intermingled with one another, and losses had been very heavy with the constant fighting. 33rd Motorized Regiment of 4th Panzer Division, for example, was one of the better supplied in the Schwerpunkt. Out of 150 rifle quads in various sub units, it now had about 75 remaining, a staggering 50% casualty rate. Other regiments were much worse off. 26th Motorized Regiment in the 24th Panzer Division had 45 squads left. Those in the 17th Panzer and 36th Motorized Divisions fared little better. Most of the panzer regiments were still at about 60% strength, but it was lack of fuel, munitions, and the endless mud that was slowing their operations to a crawl. The men that remained were tired, and as worn out as their equipment.

In spite of this, Model was not yet finished. He had a plan.

Chapter 26

The stunning German drive east of Voronezh had been possible only because of the infantry coming up to hold the shoulders of the breakthrough. It mostly deployed along the southern shoulder, giving 2nd Panzer Armee the freedom to continue to attack. Hoth had to deploy on the northern shoulder, as infantry in his sector was now forced to encircle the city of Voronezh itself, where 16 Soviet divisions sat in a small pocket.

Even though his divisions were worn out, Model worked to keep his advance rolling, taking fuel from one division and giving it to another. 4th Panzer had been in the lead, under Heinrich Eberbach, “Willy Rubber Nose” as he was called. Model wanted to keep his spearhead sharp, and he gave Eberbach the gasoline to keep moving his division through the expanding gap in the front. He swung south, ironically toward another town called Kalach, about 70 miles north of Boguchar on the Don.

Willy could smell victory with that rubber nose of his, and he knew what the Russians were attempting to do. His lead regiment, the 33rd Motorized, stopped at the end of the day on October 15th, only 75 miles north of the Don. Just south of that were the bridgeheads that Zhukov had fought so stubbornly for, from which he had also launched his abortive Operation Mars. The armies massed there now included 2nd, 3rd and 4th Shock Armies, portions of the 24th Army, Volga Front Reserve units, and numerous independent rifle and tank corps that were now formed into the Don Army Group under Rokossovsky, a formation that had never been so named in the old history. The Rock had moved north at Zhukov’s order, turning over his command in the Donets Basin to another man.

The pieces on the board were different, but the game was still the same. This was the one strategic front that allowed the Soviets to attack. The divisions there, over 80 strong, had been resting, resupplying, and were waiting for the snow to herald Zhukov’s planned Operation Uranus.

Eberbach was through that gap, heading south toward those 80 plus divisions, while over his right shoulder, 36 more divisions were trying to withdraw to avoid encirclement that he alone was now striving to complete. No thought was given to what all those enemy units might do in response to his incursion. Willy Rubber Nose had the wind at his back, gasoline siphoned from his brother divisions, and he was heading south, a typical example of the audacity with which the Germans would conduct their mobile operations.

Hitler was delighted. All he could see were the arrows being drawn on the map to indicate the farthest on point of that advance. No one told him that, even at that moment, Katukov was dancing like an expert swordsman, executing a maneuver that would have made Hermann Balck proud to witness. He extricated his 1st Special Rifle Corps from its bridgehead containment operation, turning those positions over to the retreating rifle divisions. Then he made a night march on the road east through Kalach, a full 60 kilometers to Manino, where he ran head on into Eberbach’s 33rd Motorized Regiment. These two adversaries had fought the previous year on the road to Tula, and now they met again.

By dawn on the16th the Germans found themselves surround by the entire Corps, and the infantry adopted a defensive stance, its advance completely halted. Its fate would be sealed, for the mass of all those divisions withdrawing from Kirov’s first balloon was now forming a new line, and some were pushing up the rail line from the south. Hitler was reading his map, but it was lying to him. Things were not entirely as they seemed.

The German envelopment was quickly running out of steam, and grinding to a halt. Eberbach’s impudence had been answered by Katukov’s Special Rifle Corps, where Dimitri Lavrienko was still with Katukov’s force, and they had the very latest tanks Kirov’s factories could deliver. The two Guards Divisions took the 33rd Motorized Regiment in a vise, and then 4th and 11th Guards tank brigades went through them like knives. The Cavalry division finished off any that remained alive on the battlefield, the hardy Cossacks galloping through the sodden ground, sabers flashing. The regiment ceased to exist, Manino was retaken, and Eberbach, his HQ some 30 kilometers north, decided to call a halt to his premature encirclement. He was smart enough to know trouble on a battlefield when he found it, and radioed back to Model that it would be inadvisable for him to continue.

“But you told me you had already taken Manino,” said Model. “Push on to Kalach.”

“We did take Manino, but we just lost it, along with the entire 33rd Motorized Regiment! They’re gone.” There was a moment of silence on the line. Then Eberbach composed himself and continued. “We need to consolidate and reconnoiter. Something is going on. They brought up reinforcements from the south.”

“Alright, perhaps you are correct,” said Model. “The Infantry is finally moving up to relieve Hoth on the north shoulder of the breakthrough zone. That will put some fresh life in the offensive. He’ll take the lead while we reorganize and resupply. These rains are going to become sleet and snow soon, and I don’t have to tell you what the winter was like last year.”

“Lucky for me that the frostbite couldn’t do anything to this rubber nose of mine,” said Eberbach. “Tell Hoth to move quickly. They’re planning a counterattack. I can smell it.”

Eberbach’s nose, what was left of it after taking a bullet years ago, did not betray him. By dawn the Russians sent his men up in the wake of Eberbach’s cautious withdrawal, a cold storm blowing in on the point of the German breakthrough. They were aiming to seal the breach, and buy that time Zhukov desperately needed so he could unleash another storm to the south in Operation Uranus.

Like a fullback seeing trouble ahead, Model would now throw the ball laterally to Hoth, who was already forming up the first of two shock columns of his own, centered on his fresh 12th Panzer Division. Everything was in motion again, the long months of stalemate broken by the mass, shock, and speed of the German attack at Voronezh. Now it would be answered by another attack, born before its time, and hoping to redeem the laurels Operation Mars had first delivered, until Hermann Balck appeared on the scene to work his military magic and halt the advance. This time, Balck’s 11th Panzer Division was far away, down near Rostov where he had consolidated his position to wait for infantry support. It was no good sending his panzers into the urban mass of Rostov. That was work for infantry, and he had been promised the fresh 336th Division, but it was slow in coming.

Near Volgograd, Steiner’s troops had finally reorganized for the next phase of the operation. The road they were on ran directly east into the new quarter of the city renamed Novo Kirovka, and then up to Mamayev Kurgan. That height dominated the center of the city, serving as an artillery observation point. Shelled almost daily by Volkov’s guns across the river, that was most hazardous duty, and observation details would trudge grimly up each night, waiting for dawn to peer through the morning haze and smoke. Their job was to observe the cross-river town of Krasnolobodsk, where elements of Volkov’s Guard Corps manned fortified bunkers all along the river. The morning artillery duel went off like clockwork, and Mamayev Kurgan would invariably receive a five-minute barrage.

Known as the Hill of Blood, the battles fought there in the old history left fragments of metal and human bone embedded in the ground for decades after. There, in modern times, two huge statues stand on that hallowed ground, one bearing the clarion call to battle: “Rodina Mat’ Zovyot! The Motherland Calls!” The woman, representing Mother Russia herself, stands all of 53 meters, wielding a sword that extends another 33 meters, reaching high overhead. The tip of that blade extended up to a height that doubled that of the statue of Liberty bearing her torch in New York Harbor and the history it commemorated was yet to be written in these altered states—the misery and madness that the world once called the Battle of Stalingrad.

That morning, General Eric Manstein had left his rear area headquarters at Morozovsk to come visit Steiner’s forward HQ at Surovinko, a town on the River Chir, about 50 Kilometers west of Kalach Bridge. The spearheads of Steiner’s attack, the Brandenburgers and Grossdeutschland, were already 40 kilometers east of that bridge, and now a conference would be held to determine the plan of attack on the city.

“At this stage of the operation,” said Manstein, “we were to have pulled out your entire Korps and the city fight should be turned over to the infantry.”

“What infantry?” said Steiner sarcastically.

“My point exactly,” said Manstein. “We got Freisner’s 102nd over just north of Kalach, but everything else in Hansen’s 54th Korps was pulled onto the line against the Serafimovich bridgehead. We are promised two fresh divisions soon, but who knows when they will ever get here. In the meantime, even though your troops are weary, we cannot just sit on our thumbs here, not while Halder is clucking over that big push east of Voronezh.”

“That’s where all the infantry is,” said Steiner. “What they sent us here was barely sufficient to hold that northern shoulder as we came east. We should have had enough in hand to push the Russians north of the Don, but their buildup there was steady and unrelenting, and as we have seen they have already demonstrated the threat those bridgeheads pose to our operations against Volgograd.”

“Balck gave them a good lesson or two,” said Manstein with a grin. “And that attack allowed me to wrangle away the 14th Panzer Korps.”

“Yes, but where is it now?” Steiner tapped the map. “It’s right on the line in the Boguchar sector, along with all the infantry they gave us. I even had to put the 3rd SS on the line, which is one reason these last 40 kilometers were such a slog. If we had the infantry, I’d be in the city by now.”

“That is the last place I would prefer to see your divisions,” said Manstein. “This is the best mobile shock force in the army. It should be used in the breakthrough role, and then pulled out. Under the circumstances, as we have nothing in hand to relieve your troops, they will simply have to push on to the city. If we ever do get those two infantry divisions, they will relieve you. Now then, what is the plan?”

“Drive east on the road,” said Steiner. “They moved in a Guards Rifle division in front of the Brandenburgers. That will be my first order of business.”

Manstein looked at the map. “Steiner, that is the real problem. As long as they still have the rail lines leading north, and that crossing at Golubinskaya, they will be able to constantly feed in reinforcements. I would recommend that we strike north first and eliminate those supply corridors to isolate the city. You have 1st and 2nd SS holding the shoulder north of the road back to Kalach. Take Das Reich and attack north, then a little hook west to the river near Golubinskaya. At the same time, the 75th Infantry Division should begin an attack along the west bank of the Don, aiming at those crossing points from that side.”

“It won’t get through,” said Steiner stoically.

“Then reinforce it. What about the Wiking Division? It’s been sitting at Oblivskaya for nearly two weeks.”

“They were worn out,” Steiner explained. “That division forced the crossing and took the bridge at Kalach. I’ve been resting and rebuilding those regiments.”

“Can they still fight? If so, move them right behind the 75th. Hansen can also throw in Army assets—artillery, engineers, a couple Stug battalions. There’s only one enemy rifle division on the line there now. They should get through.”

“Very well, and what about Leibstandarte?”

“It will move north, on the right shoulder of Das Reich at the outset. When that division swings left, Leibstandarte swings right. It’s objective is to cut that damn rail line.”

“That is all of 30 kilometers from their jumping off point!”

“The Brandenburg Division will join in on the right,” said Manstein. “It will attack with Grossdeutschland, and get through that Guards Rifle division you spoke of easily enough. Then the Brandenburgers will move northeast to support Leibstandarte. Grossdeutschland can continue along the road east. So you see? The main attack is against the enemy’s lines of communication, not directly into the city. Once we have cut those lines, then we reorganize for the city fighting. Hopefully, we will have that promised infantry by then.”

“A good plan,” said Steiner. “But let us hope it doesn’t take us another two weeks. Winter is coming.”

“All the more reason to isolate the city before the snows set in.”

Steiner shook his head in agreement. “Herr General,” he said. “I suppose the enemy is thinking the exact same thing. Suppose they stage another offensive from those bridgeheads? You know that is what they are planning for their big winter offensive.”

It did not take any great imagination to reason that, but Steiner was going to see his prediction come true much sooner than he expected.

Chapter 27

With new orders, the 4th Shock Army was leaping off the trains, fat, fresh, and ready to attack. The battle hardened Siberian troops deployed quickly and moved back to their assembly point for Operation Uranus. By nightfall on the 16th Yeremenko had established his headquarters in Perelazovskiy. The Army had four rifle divisions, a cavalry division, four tank brigades and numerous ski troops. They would not yet wax their boards, but 4th Shock Army would put the mass, shock and speed into Zhukov’s planned attack.

The main breakthrough force would be the few tank and mech corps that Zhukov had husbanded for this operation. He had 1st Tank Corps, 4th Mech Corps, and the newly reorganized 24th and 25th Tank Corps. 4th Shock Army was the follow on force, intending to exploit any breakthrough obtained.

Even as this force was preparing to attack, word came that the Germans had opened a new attack on both sides of the Don as it flowed down towards Kalach. Manstein’s plan was underway, not knowing that a much bigger Soviet offensive was gearing up to the west of that attack. The 167th Rifle Division was closest to the river on the western side, its lines anchored on the riverside hamlet of Mostrovskiy. 690 Assault Pioneer Battalion supported 3rd Battalion of the Germania regiment there, and just west of that attack, 2 battalions of that regiment pushed forward with the support of the 190th Stug Battalion from 11th Army reserve. The main effort would be made along that road, the most direct route to Golubinskaya where the Russians had built a new road bridge over the Don to communicate across the river to forces of the 64th Army defending there.

In order to use that road, it was first necessary to take a high hill that overlooked the scene, number 584 on the maps, its flanks wrinkled by balka runoff channels clotted with scrub and low undergrowth. That job was given to the 75th Recon Battalion and 741 Pioneers, which moved up the hill in the pre-dawn hours, launching a quick attack that stormed the position as the sun began to come up. Once in command of the hill, two battalions of the Nordland SS Regiment moved up to the left, where the remainder of the 167th Rifle Division had been positioned on the ground leading up to that hill. Behind this attack, the entire Westland Regiment waited with the long column of assault boats and bridging units. The Germans wanted to be able to quickly establish communications across the river with Das Reich if their plan succeeded.

The Russians knew that road had to be defended, and the call went out to Rokossovsky at his headquarters with the 24th Don Army. “We need your help,” said General Rodin. “It they get to Golubinskaya, we will have no choice but to blow those bridges. That means everything south of that town on the other side of the river will be cut off and forced to withdraw.

A veteran of the fighting the previous winter at Moscow, Rokossovsky, gritted his steel teeth and looked at his list of reserves. “I have several units that came in by rail two days ago from Saratov,” he said. “They aren’t much, all understrength, but I can send you a few light tank brigades, and engineers.”

“Anything would help, but it needs to be quick!”

What General Rodin received that day were the light tanks of the 9th, 10th and 12th Brigades. To call them brigades was a misnomer, as each unit was little more than a battalion in actual strength. They had been sent to Rokossovsky to form the nucleus of a new tank corps as more reserve units arrived, but were just waiting in his Don Security Group to receive tanks. At the moment, they still had 35 T-70s, and 18 T-34s between the three units, about the same number that might be in a single tank brigade. Yet tanks were tanks, and Gille’s Wikings had none to oppose them. Instead they sent the two Stug Battalions that had been attached to his assault, and a close range duel ensued, with the German Stug-IIIs being more than a match for the Soviet light tanks. The T-34s were tougher to knock out, but there were not enough of them to pose a serious threat.

Mostrovskiy fell a little after noon, and a company of Wiking motorcycle infantry started up the road, pursuing scattered elements of the 167th Rifle Division, which was now retreating north. The Russians were then bolstered by the engineer units Rokossovsky had sent, desperately trying to block the road about 2 kilometers south of the bridge. By late afternoon, the Westland Regiment was ready to move forward, and all the heavy guns of 11th Army reserve thundered out the renewed attack.

By evening the attack by the Wiking Division would coalesce and become unstoppable. They took on anything Rokossovsky sent, grinding them up one unit at a time with a methodical efficiency. Had this division been at full strength, it would have cut through the enemy lines in a matter of hours. As it was, with unit ranks down to 50% or less in many instances, it took time to burn through, but the outcome was not in doubt. A little after midnight, they had recon companies probing just outside Golubinskaya.

As General Rodin had warned, this breakthrough was now compromising the position of the 2nd Volga Rifle Division on the other side of the Don. Engaged by the German 102nd Infantry, it had held the line like a rock, but now it would be forced to fight a withdrawal. The unit fell back towards Ryumino, having to move around a marshy inroad from the Don as they did so. They arrived south of that town just as a company of armored cars from Das Reich was approaching. That company was not going any further, and the Volga Rifles took up blocking positions, ready for anything else the Germans sent against them.

East of the Don, the Soviet 64th Army had been under attack by both 1st and 2nd SS Divisions, just as Manstein had planned it. The Germans had but one infantry division on the east side of the river, the 102nd, and it was facing off against the last division of the Volga Rifles. General Friesner’s troops had only intended to lean on the Soviets there, knowing he did not have the strength to break through. It would be enough to engage and pin down the 2nd Volga Rifles, perhaps the best division the Soviets still had on the line in that sector. His men did that job—until the Russians decided they had to leave. Then the hardened veterans of so many years fighting against Volkov’s troops simply executed a perfect tactical withdrawal under fire, and Friesner was powerless to stop them.

Das Reich threw itself against the Soviet 49th Rifle Division and the 12th division to its right. Taking on two divisions, the early going was slow, though one regiment of the12th Rifles had been overrun and surrounded by mid-morning. The Russians responded by sending in the 53rd Rifle Brigade, which they had in reserve, but the real crisis was further east in the 1st SS sector. The 247th Rifle Division took the full brunt of the Leibstandarte attack, which was pushing up a good road. 112th Tank Brigade was posted there, and as it moved south in response to the attack, a sharp engagement ensued, with the German Pz-IV F2s and new Panthers slugging it out with T-34s.Where the Pz-IIIs had been outgunned, these two newer German tanks were both more than capable of taking on the Soviet tanks.

In the midst of that firefight, 2nd Panzergrenadier Regiment veered right as planned, where they soon ran into the local 75th NKVD Brigade that had been watching the front just behind the outer crust of 64th Army’s lines. Stubborn on defense, and with a good number of machineguns in the NKVD unit, the advance was held up for several hours, then eventually bypassed as the Leibstandarte turned further east, only to run into the 132nd NKVD MG Brigade.

The fighting often pulls a unit in a direction it had not intended to go. As 1st SS made that move east, the entanglements with those two NKVD brigades and the Soviet 25th Engineer Battalion forced it to turn north to deal with that resistance. On its right, the Brandenburgers had broken through, and so now the Germans executed a tactical decision in the field that would change Manstein’s plan.

“We’ll be another two or three hours dealing with these damn NKVD troops,” said Sepp Dietrich when he reported to Steiner. “Then we can move northeast again.”

“Don’t bother,” said Steiner. “Beckermann’s Brandenburg Division has already broken through. Grossdeutschland has the enemy line fully engaged, and Beckermann’s troops are spilling over the top of that line like water over a dam. He already has troops approaching Spadnovka, which is just twelve kilometers from the rail line we want to cut. So do this—build two Kampfgruppes and send one up the road to Hill 259. That will put you on the outside edge of the envelopment Das Reich is fighting to achieve.”

“And the second Kampfgruppe?” asked Dietrich.

“Send it up the secondary road to Peskovatka. The two shock columns will be moving parallel to one another as you move north. Once you get Pestkovatka, reconnoiter towards Vertyachi. I’ll scrounge up some bridge battalions and send them up that road. Look over the river for a suitable crossing point.”

“You want me on the west bank of the Don?”

“Not just yet, but I want the option to send you there if the situation warrants.”

“Very well. I still have two regiments of the 247th Rifle Division blocking that main road. They’ll have to be dealt with tonight.”

Dietrich was a practical man, and a daring one when dash and nerve was needed. He would take this assignment in hand like any other, and see what fruit he could shake from the tree.

The Brandenburg Division, he thought as he stepped into his staff car outside Steiner’s HQ. They get the glory and the open field running. I get this turning movement to a place I had never intended to go. Well, let me see if we can get to Vertyachi first. That may yield some opportunities. But now our two divisions will be moving in different directions. Who will fill the gap that develops? That will be Steiner’s problem. I had better get back to division and form those kampfgruppes.

As he made his way back over the bridge at Kalach, the radio man. Lieutenant Fuchs in the back seat, began to seem edgy. He was listening to traffic on his headset, a linguist who could speak Russian so he could sample the random traffic from the airwaves in a fight like this. It often gave a good sense of what the enemy was up to, and now he leaned forward with a warning in his eyes.

“Herr General,” he said. “A lot of traffic on the radio, it’s suddenly very heavy.”

“Hunting foxes again?” said Dietrich. “Hopefully they are orders to retreat.”

“No sir,” said Fuchs. “I get tone of voice as much as anything else. This is an attack. Something big is up tonight.”

“Steiner said there was unusual movement in the forward lines west of the Don,” said Dietrich. “The rifle divisions have been probing more aggressively.”

“Well sir, I’ve listened in on Rifle Corps traffic for a good long while. Not many radios in those units. This is something more. I think they have armor.”

“Can you pick out any unit names?” asked Dietrich.

“They never use direct division names,” said Fuchs. “It’s always Red Star One or Red Banner Three—that sort of thing. Herr General, there’s a lot of red banners in the wind tonight.”

Dietrich gave him a dark eyed look. “Keep listening,” he said, and then he told the driver to go a little faster.

It was the only unit of the Brandenburg Division that was not operating with its parent formation, one bird that had flown the nest when it was caught refueling at Surovinko during the Soviet Mars offensive. It participated in the successful defense of that key supply center, and helped drive the Russians north again when the offensive was called off. After that, it had been in a gap just north of the hamlet of Kirov, between the 3rd SS and the 299th Infantry Division on its right. The battalion was never relieved, and so it continued to stand its watch until it received orders to the contrary, which never came.

It had three companies, mostly armored cars, with a few Marders, mobile flak and 75mm guns mounted on halftracks, and a platoon of engineers. It heard that movement Fuchs was picking up on his radio, and the alert recon troops were quick out of the trenches and into their armored vehicles when the first sign of enemy attack started.

3rd Company had five SdKfz 233s, the squat eight wheeled Schwere Panzerspähwagen with a short barreled 7.5cm main gun on top. It also had eight SdKfz 234/2 vehicles, eight wheeled, but with a modified light tank turret on top, the same one used for the new light tank Germany was calling the Leopard. It mounted a 50mm main gun, good enough to penetrate the armor of most lighter tanks and other vehicles, but rapidly losing its punch against the newer Soviet T-34s and KV-series tanks. Three older Austrian made ADGZ armored cars were also in the unit, with a 20mm cannon and a pair of 7.62 MG-34s. Two light scout cars, a single SP mortar and one 7.5cm gun mounted on a 251/9 halftrack rounded out this company.

The company was just west of hill 636, some of the highest ground around, where the 299th infantry had two battalions posted. A stream ran down from that height, marshy at the outset, but there was a secondary road there that the company was watching, and something was moving on it. The 299th was the unlucky division that night, for all along its front the Russians were sending up their crack 2nd Guards Rifle Corps, composed of three divisions, the 3rd, 5th and 7th Guards. On either side of that three division front, roads led south towards Steiner’s forward HQ at Surovinko, and along those roads the Soviet heavy mechanized units were now rumbling forward in the darkness.

The guardsmen were up front, marking the road to lead the mech units on. There was no artillery barrage to soften the enemy line. Instead it would be the shock of those three experienced rifle divisions hitting the line like a big wave, and then the double envelopment by the heavy armored formations. On the right would come the newly reformed 24th Tank Corps, with Kolypov’s tank brigade in the lead. On the left would come the 1st Guard Tank Corps, right into the gap between the 299th Infantry and the 3rd SS Division. It was beefed up with the addition of two independent heavy tank brigades, each with two dozen of the very newest tanks the Soviets had produced. These were the all new SK-Is, the initials standing for ‘Sergie Kirov.’ They would be the equivalent in power to the JS-I Stalin tank that would now never be built, and every single tank that had been squeezed out of the factories in the last six months was here, a total of 120 in all, spread over five heavy tank brigades.

The Kirovs had heavy armor at 110mm, and a powerful new 85mm main gun that was being field tested for the first time. Work was already underway to upgrade the design with an even more powerful 122mm main gun, but none of those had entered production yet. There was also a new SU series assault gun on the field that did have a 122mm gun, but it was the M-30S howitzer and not the anti-tank variant that would be built into the Kirov tanks soon. The 33 ton SU-122s were mated with a few SU-152s in the heavy assault gun brigade with 1st Guard Tank Corps. Unfortunately for Hauptmann Beck, the armored cars of the Brandenburgers were in their way.

At the outset, the companies of armored cars held their own against the infantry. Their cannon and MG weapons put out good suppressive fire, and the armor on their vehicles was just good enough to stop small arms fire and shrapnel. But a fresh Guards Rifle Division is well equipped, and soon the Russians were getting 45mm AT guns and a few of the newer 57mm guns into action. The lone 88 in Beck’s 1st Company on a mobile halftrack was hit and knocked out, and with that, the recon unit realized they would not be able to hold their positions any longer when all that heavy enemy armor began to grind its way forward through the ranks of the Soviet guardsmen. Hauptmann Beck got on the radio and immediately notified Steiner that they were under heavy attack.

“We got hit with a full division, and there are a lot of tanks right behind it. They’re coming right through the gap east of Totenkopf—right towards the village of Kirov on the stream behind us. We’ll have to fall back and try to hold there, but the best we can do is buy you a little time. You’ll need a full panzer division here!”

Steiner didn’t have a panzer division in reserve. He had sent 5th SS into the Golubinskaya operation early the previous morning, and it was now heavily engaged. What he did have is a single Stug Battalion with 12 STG IIIs and six Marders. He ordered it up the road through Osinovka and past Hill 495 to approach that river line position at Kirov. Now he could hear the distant rumble of artillery, a roll of thunder from the north, and he knew that the Russians had probably mounted another spoiling attack. He had worried about this, expressing his concerns to Manstein.

“Balck is turning over his positions outside Rostov to infantry,” the General told him. “Would you feel better if his division were back in theater reserve?”

Damn, thought Steiner. I wish I had that division at hand now. The Russians found the one weak point on our line, the Kirov Gap. But what to do here? Reports were coming in rapidly. Totenkopf was also under heavy attack. And more enemy tank units were on the main road to Oblivskaya. The division had also been hit on its left flank, prompting Eicke to send most of the panzer regiment there to counterattack. Now it seemed that was nothing more than a flanking maneuver intended as a diversion. The main attack was coming right down that road.

Now Steiner looked for any reserve he could find. There was a pioneer battalion at Kalach, and he sent for it immediately, ordering it west on the road to Surovinko. Yet that single battalion and the Stugs he had just sent to Hauptmann Beck would not be anywhere near enough. Beck was correct. He would need a full division, and the only way to get one would be to call off his offensive towards Golubinskaya. He notified General Gille in the 5th SS and told him to suspend operations immediately and get back to the main road.

“But were just outside the town now. They are blowing the bridges as we speak!”

“Good enough. Turn that operation over to the 75th Infantry. I need your division back here as soon as possible, and bring the heavy guns with you from 11th Army. This is serious. Now move!”

“Alright, we’re coming. I’ll have my division on the road south to Kalach by first light.”