With Our Backs to Berlin

DR. FRITZ-RUDI AVERDIECK

The bombardment which started at 0700 hours on 14 April introduced the last phase of the war on the Eastern Front.[31] The initial enemy attacks were all beaten back, the 76th Regiment shooting up twelve tanks, and by midday some small breaches in our lines had been eliminated. However, our counter-attack failed in the face of the second Russian bombardment, which was reinforced by simultaneous heavy air attacks. The companies fled back, incurring heavy casualties. They then occupied the main battle line about 200 metres in front of the Annahof. The Soviets could be seen hitting our surviving wounded with spades. At dusk the enemy closed in and the Annahof came under fire from artillery, rockets and heavy weapons. We withdrew during the night and occupied the lines on the Seelow Heights above Werbig, in which we spent yet another quiet Sunday (15 April) under occasional disruptive fire. We had a magnificent view over the Oderbruch from these Heights, except when smoke from the explosions made everything hazy. I spent the night with my driver in a small, very fragile bunker.

On Monday, 16 April, we were awakened at 0400 hours by the Russian bombardment. Every time we tried to get out and run to the armoured personnel carrier (APC), flashes of lightning illuminated the darkness and dirt and shrapnel whistled around our ears. An enemy battery had taken our command post as its aiming mark. Luckily, it moved its fire back some 70 metres across the fields. This inferno continued until 0600 hours and then the aircraft appeared. A squadron of twin-engined bombers dropped a carpet of bombs over a wood behind us in which there were all sorts of artillery. However, our batteries fired only very seldom. The nakedly exposed Heights and roads were meanwhile being controlled from the air, our own air effort being exceptionally weak.

By midday, from the sounds of battle and rumours, the enemy were already past us on the left and right. The remains of the detachments deployed in front of us were caught in our positions. Our troops were running from their trenches towards us as the Russian infantry appeared and, before we knew it, the Ivans were already on our Heights. With hastily assembled forces they were driven back halfway down again and our new positions held for the night. Air activity and continual mortaring robbed us of any sleep that night and caused some deaths in the supply column.

At 0400 hours on 17 April our command post was moved back more centrally in our sector to Gusow railway station. We had hardly camouflaged the vehicle and moved into the cellar of the station when a tank alert was given. The tanks had come up the road without firing. At the same time the bomber squadron reappeared and started bombing a little to our rear. To add to our misfortunes, alarming reports were radioed from the battalions. The enemy was in the rear of the 1st and 2nd Battalions with tanks and infantry, and the 3rd Battalion was falling back. At 0900 hours there was another bombardment on our forward positions, knocking out the radio APC of the 1st Battalion, and the crew of the 3rd Battalion’s radio APC were injured by wood splinters. The section leader, although the most seriously wounded, nevertheless drove the vehicle back to the supply column himself.

The regiment was now in such disorder, with no communications or physical contact, for instance, that we had to withdraw under cover of some self-propelled guns (SPGs) and tanks[32] to the next line of defence, the ‘Stein-Stellung’ near Görlsdorf. It was none too soon, for we were already being fired at from the flank and we were showered with wood splinters in the copse where we stopped to assemble. When we arrived at midday with the remainder of the regiment at the ‘Stein-Stellung’ it was already under shellfire and the Russians were assembling tanks and infantry opposite. Of our 1st and 2nd Battalions only a few scattered groups had come back, and these were now re-organised into a weak battalion. The command post was set up on the reverse slopes of the defence position.

While the commanders were setting the sector boundaries, the enemy artillery and mortar fire steadily increased. Mortar bombs and salvoes of rockets crashed down around us and it was getting more and more uncomfortable. Helmut Melzer was killed by this fire as he tried to get through the woods on a bicycle to the supply lines to get a new radio.

Suddenly there was another alarm. Somehow the Russians had got through our lines and were behind us. There was a mad rush by the staff to get some soldiers together and recover our positions with a counterattack. Soon machine gun and tank fire was coming from every direction. At dusk we went into the attack with the support of some 20mm anti-aircraft guns and tanks, although these heavy vehicles could not manoeuvre much in the woods. We formed a blocking position on the corner of a wood with our APC. The fighting went on into the night but the old positions were not recovered.

As tanks drove into our flank from the left on the morning of 18 April, our APC and the remaining vehicles were sent back a kilometre to Worin. The small, deserted village looked so peaceful, but hardly had we set ourselves up in a house than a cannonade of tank fire broke out in our corner. As we were at a crossroads, we came under fire from heavy weapons and artillery fire, in which several soldiers sheltering in a barn several meters behind our APC were wounded. In those two days our signals platoon suffered 17 casualties. During the morning the companies withdrew to Worin and the command post found itself in the front line, the regimental commander himself becoming a casualty. The divisional headquarters were only a few hundred meters away in the same village. To add to our misfortunes we had a mixture of petrol and diesel oil in our fuel tank so that the APC would only move very slowly and the engine had to be kept turning over. Our young second lieutenant, who had only been with the regiment a few days, had a daring plan to drive the APC over open country to the command post, for as the route was downhill, should we fall into a hole we would quickly come out again! As we started off, we came under a real mortar barrage. The vehicle speeded up, backfiring several times, and we were expecting it to give up the ghost. After minutes that seemed to last for hours, we reached the cover of a sunken lane and followed it to behind a barn, where all kinds of vehicles had assembled, oddly enough failing to attract the attention of enemy aircraft.

The Russians were bombarding the supply routes that we would have to withdraw over later. As their tanks penetrated Worin I decided to leave the place with my lame APC and with luck creep over the hill to the edge of the woods to await further events. Splintering trees forced us to move back further into the wood. There was some heavy anti-aircraft artillery hidden in a commanding position on the edge of the woods. Everyone was to withdraw to positions in front of Müncheberg during the afternoon, but our division was to take up the rearguard once more. Convoys of vehicles rolled through the woods to Jahnsfelde to join the main road back to Müncheberg. However, a short while later the last convoy returned with the news that we were cut off. There were only about two kilometres of woodland track to the positions and tanks in our rear – Jahnsfelde was already occupied by the enemy – and we could hear machine gun fire from that direction. We knew that there had been fighting on either side of us for some time, and now there was no way out. As it emerged from the woods, the divisional radio vehicle, which had tried to make a breakout on its own, fell into Russian hands, along with three of its five-man crew. With our APC almost lame from its fuel problem, the situation was particularly uncomfortable, especially as there were none of our own positions behind us. We prepared for action and aimed our machine-gun in the direction from which we expected danger, at the same time preparing the vehicle for demolition.

Towards evening our companies withdrew from Worin to redeploy to Müncheberg. Everyone assembled in the woods, infantry, armour and vehicles. The only possibility was to break through to our lines along a route unknown to the enemy. Our Regimental Commander, a lieutenant, organised those on foot, and our APC was put on tow by a Tiger. At dusk we took up positions along the edge of the woods. Firing behind us indicated that Ivan had followed us into the woods from Worin. As soon as it was dark enough, we broke out of the woods and encountered no resistance. We passed through the burning village of Jahnsfelde without incident and reached the main road to Müncheberg and then, a little later, our own lines, which we occupied immediately. Our APC was towed on into the town, where the fuel tank was emptied and refilled by our supply column.

19 April had hardly begun when I was woken from a few hours of death-like sleep by the headquarters staff with orders to prepare for an immediate move. As a result of enemy tanks breaking through our lines, we would have to pull back yet again. As there was enough fuel, the little APC whose crew had been wounded by wood splinters was re-manned and sent on in advance. We reached the new supply column location in a pine forest at noon and prepared our vehicle for action once more. We were in touch with the little APC, which reported being unable to get through to the regimental command post and that the situation was completely confused. Then I failed to get any further response to my transmissions. Later the crew returned on foot, their APC having suddenly been attacked by a T-34, which chased them and shot them up. Then we had to drive on straight away, having received urgent orders to move, as enemy armoured spearheads were only a kilometre from our position. Apparently the Russians were no longer meeting any resistance, our enormous supply columns being in full flight without any thought of putting up any resistance. The journey to Rüdersdorf in the Berlin-Erkner area lasted until 0300 hours. Close by was a horde of refugees that had been forced to leave their homes in the middle of the night with their pushcarts.

We remained in Rüdersdorf until noon on this new day, 20 April. As the regiment’s fighting capacity was down to only 90 men, the supply column was combed through and a company of another 90 men established. Even the signals platoon was broken up and the radio operators deployed as riflemen. The supply company marched off well spread out under heavy Russian air activity. We followed them a little later in the APC with the commanders, two lieutenants. We were bombed on the way, as we were fully visible on the now completely deserted road. Near Hennickendorf we took cover in a wood close to the divisional headquarters. Low-flying aircraft passed over often without noticing us.

That evening we received the task with our 180 men, of which only the 90-man supply company were for the moment available, of blocking the gap between two lakes. At dusk we had to march to our new positions under a hail of explosives and incendiaries. Often we had to stop on the clogged roads, while the darkness became like something out of a fairy tale as a ‘Christmas Tree’[33] lit up the area around as bright as day. We had to wait in our APC for a long time until the company arrived. Of the 90 men 30 had fallen out on the way, having apparently deserted. Of the other 90 survivors of the regiment there was no sign. With our weak force we then relieved an APC company with two tanks at its disposal. Shortly before, a Stalin tank had broken through the lines after shooting up a Panther, raced along the road about 100 metres from us and driven into an anti-tank barrier. A Panzerfaust hit it in a shower of sparks. As it tried to withdraw it was destroyed by a second Panther. An ammunition and fuel dump was burning nearby with crackles and explosions, sounding like a battle in progress. The air attacks broke off. We drove the APC off the road to the edge of a wood and camouflaged it well. Our location was several kilometres from Hennickendorf on a country road leading through pine forests and meadows. After the surprise attack by the Russian tank, which had sounded very noisy on the road, I fell asleep to the crackling of the ammunition dump. It was still dark when I awoke and the crackling was still going on, but it was something else that I could hear, the screeching and track noises of tanks on the road left and right of us. The Russians had meanwhile broken through again and our supply column heroes had taken to their heels. The way back along the road was cut off. The indecision of our lieutenants had nearly cost us our APC, as it soon would be light.

Trusting in our luck, we followed the edge of the woods across the fields, shovelling our way under machine gun fire out of a ditch that proved too wide, and managed to reach the first houses in Hennickendorf under the cover of a light morning mist with the sound of enemy tank engines in our ears. Several tanks and SPGs from our armoured unit were standing there in the open, engaging the Stalin tanks that had just appeared out of the woods in a duel that we watched as spectators. We could see quite clearly how the tracers bounced off the Stalin tanks and flew into the air. A little later one of our tanks was hit in the flank and burst into flames. The weather and rain prevented intervention from the air. As this was no longer our regiment’s position, our divisional engineers having taken over, the two lieutenants decided to look for the supply column again. We received its location over the radio.

The defence of Berlin presented a strange picture, as we saw for ourselves on our way. It really consisted only of individual, independent combat groups. For instance, here and there we saw Hitler Youths in defensive positions. Strangely, too, we were shelled the whole way to Schöneiche. Everything gave us the feeling of inevitable defeat. ‘Berlin remains German’ was displayed on a board by the roadside, which meant that the city centre was already prepared for defence and full of SS. In Schöneiche we found the supply column troops comfortably quartered, something we could not easily forgive them. However, that afternoon we were under way again in an endlessly long column with hour-long halts caused by blockages, passing lovely villas and spring-bedecked suburban gardens, bathing pools and parks. The Russians had already reached Köpenick and were threatening to cut us off.[34] The fleeing supply column, in which there were also many civilian vehicles, came up against troops marching in the opposite direction. We went through Köpenick, across the Spree, and through Adlershof and Altglienicke to the suburb of Rudow, where we looked for quarters. The small combatant part of the division took up defensive positions in Adlershof.

No sooner had we been allocated quarters in Rudow than we were sent forward in our APC again. At my request my radio operator and myself were given permission to fall out for 24 hours and get some sleep for once. How often have I cursed myself since! However, first of all we could take a bath and sleep in a proper bed. We slept until noon the following day, Sunday 22 April. The weather was fine and so there were constant air attacks. The noise of battle grew ever nearer and clouds of smoke rose constantly to the south and east. I chatted until evening with the people in my billet, who had already prepared themselves mentally for Bolshevism, but when I went to look up my comrades next door, I found everyone, including the vehicles, gone. They had apparently left their quarters in such a hurry that they had forgotten to tell us. Not knowing exactly where they had gone, we set off hoping to catch them up. Just as it was getting dark we met our division’s ammunition column, which took us along with them to Neukölln, but they also did not know where our supply column was, which was difficult to understand. Night found us in the streets with ‘Lame Ducks’[35] dropping bombs and a Russian machine-gun firing nearby. Ivan had broken through again somehow.

As dawn broke on this Monday morning the local inhabitants began to appear on the streets and gave us hot coffee. Then we drove on with the ammunition column to Rudow, from where we marched to Adlershof to see if we could find either our APC or the regimental command post. The road was already under artillery fire, but women and young girls were still going about their shopping. No sooner had we gone round an anti-tank barrier that was under a railway bridge than a Second Lieutenant asked us where we were going and then wanted to conscript us into his defence team. Fortunately a motorcycle combination from our division appeared from the direction of Adlershof and so we jumped on and thundered away from his press gang.

The road was under very heavy fire as we returned to Rudow. We had now met up with some men from Panzergrenadier Regiment 76 that wanted to pick up an anti-aircraft gun and at the same time were also looking for the supply column. An attempt to find the divisional staff in Schöneweide proved fruitless, but we were lucky enough to meet up with our divisional engineers’ horse-drawn supply column, into which we managed to integrate ourselves with some difficulty, so that at least we would be able to pass through the numerous patrols and military police barriers. We marched right through Berlin at high speed until our feet finally refused to obey orders any more. We went past Nollendorfplatz, the Zoo, the Memorial Church and then along the Kaiserdamm to Charlottenburg through areas well known to me. Several streets were barricaded off and were already under Russian shell fire. Many refugees went along with us looking for some means of escaping by train. The engineers stopped near the Funkturm, where orders were received that all the supply columns were to return to Berlin. We were told that Panzergrenadier Regiment 90’s supply column was at Döberitz. We two radio operators were to remain until our supply column returned, and meanwhile were sent to a cold billet in Witzleben with some very unfriendly people. As we were given neither blankets nor food and were completely exhausted, we did not feel very welcome in this strange unit in which we knew no one.

Next morning, 24 April, with still no sign of our people and the firing from the direction of Spandau getting closer and closer, we tried to find a vehicle from our division on the Kaiserdamm that could eventually take us to Döberitz. We waited in vain. Then I decided upon a subterfuge. I went to the engineer company commander and told him that we had met an officer from our unit who had informed us that our supply column was now in Döberitz, so he gave us a marching order in writing and we set off down the Heerstrasse. The marching order enabled us to pass through the barriers and we got a lift on a truck for part of the way. There was already fighting in Spandau, and machine gun fire could be heard not far off. Shortly before Döberitz, like an angel to our rescue, our headquarter company commander appeared on a motorcycle. He told us that our APC was at the Reichssportfeld. He himself had gone to look for the supply column in Döberitz but had not found it. We were to turn back again and he would come and pick us up with a motorcycle combination. I was somewhat sceptical about this and set off on foot with my comrade for the Reichssportfeld, which was fortunate for us. On our way between Spandau and the Reichssportfeld, which we made with two rests, we kept our eyes open for the motorcycle, and were delighted when our APC suddenly appeared instead. We quickly jumped aboard. The vehicle was full of women, nurses, working girls and wounded as well as the crew and regimental staff. The street barriers were already closed in Spandau and Russian tanks had shot up several vehicles in front of us, so we had to turn and seek a way through further to the south. Columns of smoke around us showed roughly where the front line was. By using tracks and country roads we reached the neighbourhood of Potsdam, which was already surrounded by the Russians. We had to make detours several times and often to open anti-tank barriers to get through. Finally we realised that Berlin had been surrounded and that we would have to risk a break-out.

Near Ketzin, north-west of Potsdam, the lakes and bridges seemed to provide the most favourable opportunity for our purpose, and we met up with several SPGs from our own armoured unit. We prepared the vehicle for battle and set up sub-machine guns and assault rifles around the APC’s coping. Then we burst into Ketzin. The enemy infantry did not bother with us, only a tank trying to shoot us up, but its shell hit a building 30 metres behind us. A little further to the west we came across some SS troops taking up defensive positions; we had broken out of the Berlin pocket. We came across several units from the division on our way, including our horse-drawn supply column.

The Russian pincers had thrust far ahead. To the south they were already in Brandenburg, and to the north in Nauen. There were columns of smoke all around. During the night we had to pass through a military police barrier in Kyritz, but then we were fortunate to find the collecting point for the remainder of the 20th Panzergrenadier Division, which was in a wood by the village of Wutzetz on the Rhin Canal near Friesack. But depression soon followed our joy at having escaped from the encirclement. ‘What now?’ was the question everyone was asking.

On 25 April we were re-organised as the Armoured Brigade of the 20th Panzergrenadier Division. The supply column was combed through again and again so that eventually we produced two infantry battalions, two artillery detachments, an armoured company with eight SPGs, one anti-aircraft and one infantry mortar company, all fully motorised. We were to be allocated as an independent brigade to a corps operating to the north. It was clear that not much could be expected of these supply column soldiers, more of whom were deserting daily. Nevertheless, we continued with our training, for which the corps allowed us a few days in which to prepare ourselves.

On 27 April we pulled out of the wood for Wutzetz and took up quarters in a former prison camp for Polish officers. At first the days were quiet, but later we were increasingly sought out by enemy aircraft, so that at times we were having to seek shelter in our little earthen bunkers every quarter of an hour. During repeated air attacks on 1 May my radio platoon leader and I, with no one to stop us, took cover in the asparagus fields. That evening Wutzetz was in flames and the Russians had penetrated Friesack. Our neighbours, who had similarly taken up defensive positions on the Rhin Canal, pulled out. At 2100 hours we also pulled out, taking all kinds of refugees along with us. There were enormous columns of vehicles on the road and ‘Lame Ducks’ were dropping flares. Our journey via Wusterhausen took us to a farm near Neustadt, where we settled down for the night, while the companies took up defensive positions. Rumours caused me to switch on my radio again at midnight. After some solemn, stately music came the announcement that the Führer had fallen in battle in Berlin that day. All our will to continue resisting the enemy now vanished.

During the night the Russians penetrated Neustadt. As we had no radio contact with the brigade staff, our orderly officer was sent to brigade to get instructions. There he found only the brigade orderly officer, who was about to leave. The latter advised him to drive to Segeberg, which was passed to our commander as an order. The brigade commander, Major Rostock, and his even worse deputy, Captain Kern, had abandoned us to drive home unimpeded in a small vehicle.

Following the dispersal of our infantry companies during the night-time confusion at Neustadt, we drove off with the motorised units at dawn on the 2nd May for Schwerin via Segeberg. Near Havelberg the route went off towards Perleberg, which was already occupied by the Russians, so we turned south-west and drove past Wittenberge, which was in sight of the Americans. Just before Ludwigslust our despatch rider returned with the news that American tanks were already in Schwerin and Ludwigslust. The Russians and Americans had already joined hands north of us, and it was only a few kilometres to the American spearheads. The officers conferred amongst themselves. The only choice before us lay between east and west. The decision was made after careful consideration. The commander then addressed us; he did not want to shed any more blood, but those who wanted to go on fighting should report to him.

After a distribution of rations we set off to the west once more. I had to leave my trusty APC behind for lack of fuel and drive on in our radio truck. We stopped again sometime later. In front of us was an Air Force convoy that had already sent an envoy to the Americans. Then a vehicle arrived with large white flags on it and an American officer inside. He took the pistols from our officers then waved us on. At 1830 hours we drove across the American lines into captivity. We gave up our weapons on the way. Most of us lost our watches too. Some of the Americans were drunk, apparently from looted schnapps. Liberated Poles were firing pistols and taking the farmers’ cows from their stalls. It was mildly comforting to see that the people still waved to us. We spend the night on an airfield near Hagenow.

Next day we drove in our own vehicles via Hagenow to Sückau, near Neuhaus, where we assembled and camped with 7,000 men in a meadow. We were to remain there for the time being and pitch our tents. At midnight on 7/8 May Germany capitulated unconditionally.[36] The war was over.

We stayed in the meadow near Sückau until 17 May virtually unguarded and unenclosed. Then we marched singing by companies through the Mecklenburg villages to an ammunition dump near Lübtheen, abused and spat on from passing trucks carrying foreigners, while our own people wanted to give us flowers and refreshments, though the latter were denied us by our American escorts.

On 30 May we marched to Pritzier, where we were loaded into goods wagons in which we rode with open doors via Hagenow, Ratzeburg, Lübeck and Neustadt to Eutin. From there we marched to the Oldenburg-in-Holstein Reservation through an area well known to me, as I had spent my last holiday there before joining the Army. It was under its own German administration, which set up offices for our release. We set up a tented camp in a beautiful, leafy wood near the little village of Grubenhagen, half an hour from the Baltic resorts of Dahme and Kellenhusen. After all the hard times we had been through we found recuperation on the beaches of the Baltic.[37]