Winter Storm (19 page)

“Out!”
he shouted, unhurt and glad to still be breathing. His driver was out the front
hatch, and he followed, as thick smoke began to fill the close quarters of the
tank. It was the second time he had lost a tank, and it would not be the last,
but at least he was alive.

They
made it to the tree line, where he knew the rest of his ambush team waited,
three more T-34s from second platoon. “Move!” he shouted. “But aim low for
their tracks, that frontal armor is too good!”

His
only thought after that was getting to another tank, and he saw one close by,
silent and still, a thin stream of smoke coming from the engine, which had
seized up at a critical moment and left the tank immobile. But it still had a
gun, he thought, and he raced for it, waving for his remaining crew to follow
him.

“But
Sergeant, we will have no power. The engine is dead. How will you maneuver or rotate
the turret fast enough manually?”

“Even a
broken clock is right twice a day,” said Lavrinenko. “Get in and load that gun!
We’ll play possum.”

Lavrinenko
knew that he was climbing into little more than a stationery pill box, but it
was better than standing there in the rain. He was going to sit there in that
dead cold steel tank, his eye glued to the gun sights, and wait for that clock
to strike true. The Germans would be coming, and if he was lucky, one enemy
tank or another would run right across his bore sight.

*

Knispel
clenched his fist when he got the hit, seeing the Russian crew bailing out. The
lion had taken the bait, catching that mouse by the tail just as it leapt for the
safety of its next hiding place. The other four tanks in his platoon had fanned
out, and now they were advancing on the tree line in a chevron formation, with
Knispel’s tank on the angle in the lead. He saw movement, and shouted out an
order.

“Platoon
halt! Targets ahead!”

Three
T-34s appeared so suddenly that he immediately knew the ground must fall off to
a lower elevation just beyond that notch. If they could have stayed just below
that rise, firing hull down they would have been in a much better position, but
his earlier inspection of the captured T-34 told him they had to show
themselves. The gun on that tank could simply not depress more than a few
degrees. Kleber fired first, scoring a glancing blow on the leftmost tank, and
Knispel fired second, taking it flush on the upper frontal plate.

“Another
kill Sergeant!” His driver whistled.

“No,
we’ll give that one to Kleber. He hit that tank first.” He was already rotating
to sight on the middle tank, which was still charging, the range diminishing to
300 meters. They want to see if they can beat my armor at point blank range, he
thought. But I won’t let them get the chance. He put one round on the turret,
punching through and surely killing that tank commander. The platoon quickly
smashed the third T-34, and that looked to be the end of the engagement, until
a hot round came right for Kleber’s tank, leaping out of the shadows of those
trees.

The
hands struck twelve on Lavrinenko’s clock. Kleber had drifted right through his
gun sights, and the range was an easy 300 meters. He had a perfect side shot,
and he took it, his loader pumping in a second round so he could fire yet again
a few seconds later. Sometimes a lion, sometimes a fox, thought Lavrinenko.

He got
his hits, then ordered his men to quickly bail out. He would never know if he
could claim that tank as a kill, but it hardly mattered. All he could think of
was getting back to friendly lines, back in another tank, and getting to
Katukov with information he had learned in this sharp little duel. Yes, the
Germans had a new tank, but that was not all. They had someone inside it that
could read his mind.

The
battle of Malakhovo had just ended. The Russian attack was broken, the armor of
the 3rd Tank Corps shattered, and the Russians were falling back. Sergeant Kurt
Knispel had racked up an amazing nine kills, and was also gracious enough to
give two more that he might have claimed to his platoon mate Kleber. As for
those last two shots taken by Lavrinenko, he would have been shocked to learn
that neither penetrated the 100mm side armor on the Lion. No man there knew it
at that moment, but Germany had a war winner in the VK-55, and it was only the
first of their new tank designs. The road Guderian had labored to control was
finally his. Now all he had to do was find the fuel he needed to keep his
panzers on that road, for every day would bring one final reserve corps the
Russians still had on their side ever closer, and it was commanded by General
Winter…

Part
VII

Black Snow

“Second
Panzer Army is forging ahead, slowly but surely. Guderian had someone call up
in the afternoon that his troops are on their last legs. It is true, they did
have to fight hard, and a very long way, and still they come through
victoriously, pushing back the enemy everywhere. So we may hope that they may
be able to fight on, even against the repeatedly reinforced enemy, (new
Siberian divisions), until a favorable closing line is reached. Hoepner is
still clawing his way towards Moscow, so close, and yet each mile is an agony.
Just west of the Kremlin, there is an ominously quiet spot where the enemy now,
all of the sudden, has intensified his reconnaissance effort across the frozen
river. It is not impossible that, after being beaten back elsewhere, he is now
trying his luck there under cover of the fogs.”

—War Diary of General Franz
Halder

The
road to Serpukhov had been a whirlwind advance. With the
Heavy Brigade breaking through, all the Soviet 3rd Tank Corps could do was move
aside to the east and try and maintain pressure on the German flank. This
forced Guderian to post
kampfgruppes
built around the Panzergrenadiers
in Langermann’s 4th Panzer Division. The four battalions of Westhoven and Dorn
were strengthened by the Division Panzerjager companies, flak batteries, and
backed up by most of the artillery. KG Eberbach operated just east of the road,
keeping a wary eye on anything that might be building up at Yasnogorsk, a
railhead the Russians had been using to move in reinforcements.

“Where
are they getting all these fresh units?” he said on the radio to Guderian.
“Don’t we have most of their army in the Kirov Pocket?”

“Yes,”
said Guderian, “but that is our problem as much as theirs. “This time they
haven’t collapsed like other cauldrons. They’re fighting, and we had to commit
24 infantry divisions just to keep them in the bag. That’s why infantry is
scarce as hen’s teeth.”

“They’re
fighting for the city named for their leader,” Eberbach suggested. “And now for
Moscow. Yet every time we smash a division, two more appear to take its place!”

To keep
moving north, Guderian had to call on one of those hard to find infantry
divisions, the 31st, fighting further west with 35th Korps. He wanted to move
it into the positions north of Tula and relieve Langermann’s force. He also
gave up his plan for a double envelopment of the city, which then freed up the
17th Panzer Division, and Loeper’s 10th Motorized. These units could then swing
around the western side of Tula and relieve Funck’s 7th Panzer Division in the
northern segments of the city, where it had been entangled with the Siberian
Guards in costly house to house fighting.

“Infantry,”
Guderian said aloud as he looked at his map. “Two more good infantry divisions
is all I need, but where to find them? At the very least, this realignment of
forces should free up 7th Panzer again, and eventually I will get Langermann
off flank duty as well. I will move the 7th right behind Westernhagen’s 101st.
We drive on Serpukhov tonight!”

On the
19th of September, Gruner’s Recon Battalion from Model’s 3rd Panzer pushed up
the road, finding it completely empty. The Germans had cut clean through the
massed armor that had fought so desperately at Malakhovo, and now 7th Panzer
was coming up behind them to organize the advance. The Generals met on the
muddy road north of Malakhovo, Guderian in the center of the group with his
map.

“Where
did they get that tank corps?”said Model.

“From
the same bag with all these rifle divisions,” said Guderian. “But it seems we
have solved the problem of this T-34.”

“That
we have,” said Westerhagen, a tall, proud man in a dark SS style uniform.”My
Big Cats went right through them!”

“Yet we
still have a long way to go, and I’m afraid we will not have the support from
12th Panzer I was hoping for from the west. It pushed into Maloyarslavets as
planned, but now they have pulled it out to send north to help Hoepner.”

“But he
has only twenty kilometers to go,” Funck protested. “We needed that division!”

“Certainly,
but I have freed up your troops by other means, Herr General, and I’ll want
them on the road, right behind Westernhagen’s tanks. The 101st will be the tip
of the spear, and you will follow. Get as far north as you can, and quickly.
This rain is going to complicate matters considerably. The more ground we take
now, the better.”

“We’ll
get to Serpukhov,” said Model. “But then what? That place will surely be well
defended.”

“The
Russian frontier was well defended three months ago,” said Guderian, “but here
we are. My only real concern at the moment is our mobility. How is the fuel
holding up?” He looked at Westernhagen first.

“My 2nd
Battalion is at 60 percent, 3rd Battalion is a little worse off at 40%, but 1st
Battalion is in good shape. They just refueled and I will move them to the
front of the line.”

The
other Generals reported the condition of their respective divisions, and
Guderian laid out the plan. “Langermann, your 4th Panzer is to mop up that
enemy armor and cover Yasnogorsk. I would love to take it, but I do not want to
dilute our advance just now, or get you into another protracted city fight.
Stay loose, and be ready to move north as soon as I can get Loeper’s 10th
Motorized up there. Model, You get the left flank, but keep Munzel moving north
with Westernhagen. The Oka will bend south in your sector, and I want you to
push out patrols there and sniff out any good crossing sites you can find.
General Funck, it looks like you and Westernhagen will get the job of taking
Serpukhov. I’ll get you all the bridging battalions I can find.”

“And
after I take it?” Funck echoed Model’s earlier question.

“Then
we will have dinner there and discuss the situation.” Guderian smiled, wanting
to keep up a brave face, though he inwardly knew that it would be very
difficult after that. Those last hundred kilometers would be the most grueling
of the campaign.

Their
marching orders in hand, the Generals returned to their divisions, with Model’s
eyes aglow as he studied his map. “Gruner was the first to reach the bridge at
Serpukhov,” he said to a staffer. “And I want to be the first to put men and
tanks over the Oka. I will cross here.” He fingered a town named Protvino,
where the Oka flowing west from Serpukhov then turned sharply south, meandering
down towards Alexin.

“Where
is Gruner?” asked Model, needing his recon troops.

“He was
leading the advance up the main road sir. I think he’s still operating with the
101st.”

“Very
well, then it will be up to KG Munzel. I’m off to find some bridging
engineers!”

And he
did exactly that, finding the bridging company of Langermann’s 4th Panzer
Division coming up the main road at a town called Yakolevo.

“Leutnant!
I need your company. Turn left off the main road right there. A company of
motorcycle infantry will lead you to the river.”

“But
sir,” the Lieutenant protested briefly. “You realize our division will be on
the right flank when it gets here.”

“It
can’t be helped,” said Model. “The heavy brigade has taken my bridging company,
and your division is well to the south. I need you to move west at once. Follow
those men.”

On the
night of the 20th, the bridging company found all of KG Munzel’s tanks hidden
at the edge of a light wood near the river, and the Lieutenant reported.

“Where
is Oberst Munzel? I am to report my bridging company is at his disposal.”

“He’s
already in Protvino!” said a Sergeant. “He crossed just after midnight on a
light raft with a few men from his headquarters platoon. Word is the place is
completely empty, but you had better get down to that river bank. He will be
expecting you!”

When
the bridging troops arrived at the edge of the dark, swollen river, they found
the rest of Pape’s Motorcycle recon battalion there, and a the I/394 Battalion
of Panzergrenadiers. The engineers went to work immediately, laboring through
the night to get the pontoons floated and bridging panels assembled. By dawn
their work was complete, and the tanks of KG Munzel would cross the morning of
the 21st, the first German troops over the Oka, just as Model had wanted.
Elated, the General radioed Guderian with the good news.

“Herr
General? I’m standing on the north bank of the Oka at Protvino, and with three
battalions of Munzel’s panzers crossing behind me!”

“By God
Model! How did you manage that?”

“Where
there’s a will….”

“Very
well,” said Guderian, breathing a sigh of relief. “Westernhagen is going to try
and take the main road bridge into Serpukhov this morning. Scout west and see
what you find, but put together a kampfgruppe and send them into Serpukhov from
that flank. With any luck we can take the place by tomorrow night!”

When
Westernhagen’s Big Cats reached the bridge at Serpukhov, they mounted an
immediate attack from march, thinking to storm the position. What they found
waiting, just as Model had warned, were the men of the 2nd Red Banner Army,
freshly arrived from the east. It was more a corps sized formation than an
army, with only two rifle divisions, the 3rd and 12th, and several regiments of
infantry on motorcycles, with a few battalions of light armored cars and
artillery. Arriving at Serpukhov on the 20th, they barely had time to detrain
and rush to man the defensive fortifications all along the river. Without
enough troops to cover the river line all the way to Protvino, at least the two
vital bridges would be well defended. But the eager troops, just come from the
training camps and off that long train ride, did not know what was about to hit
them.

Westernhagen
lined up his heavy tanks, and began blasting away at the enemy pill boxes and
improved fortifications. The engineers rushed forward, ready with bridging
pontoons deploying to both sides of the road. The bridge was still intact, but
the Germans assumed it would be blown the minute they put tanks on it, and
planned accordingly. With no organic artillery, he would rely on the guns of
his panzers to support any infantry he could find to make the cross river
assault. The 101st Panzergrenadier Battalion, Gruner’s Recon Battalion from the
5th Panzer, and I/3 Panzergrenadier Battalion from that same division made up
the
kampfgruppe
, with three heavy panzer battalions waiting to pounce
right behind them.

The
infantry clawed out a bridgehead, the tanks blasting at the enemy machinegun
and mortar positions from across the river. The Russians tried answering with
their 45mm AT guns, but were dismayed to see the rounds just bouncing harmlessly
off the heavy frontal armor plate on the Lions. By noon, III Battalion had all
36 of his heavy tanks across the main road bridge, which the Russians had
foolishly failed to destroy.

*

News
that the Germans were over the Oka and fighting in Serpukhov jolted Zhukov at
his headquarters in Moscow. He had been scraping up every reserve battalion he
could find, even stripping machinegun battalions from the innermost ring of
fortifications around the city. 7th Guards Rifles had been counterattacking towards
Naro-Fominsk, and he called off the attack, yanking that unit back to get it on
trains and up to Moscow. One look at the map summed up his dilemma. The troops
he needed were on the long front line extending south. There, the 43rd Army was
still holding on to Maloyaroslavets, and Yevremov’s 33rd Army was holding the
line all the way down to Kaluga, where Zakharin’s 49th held that city, his
lines reaching down to the lower Oka where 5th Army took over at Alexin. All
those troops could be put to much better use elsewhere, and he decided to get
them moving at once.

“Guderian’s
drive on Serpukhov has compromised that entire segment of our line,” he said to
a staff officer. “Order Zakharin and Yevremov to begin an immediate withdrawal
to the northern Oka river line. After that we pull out Kurochkin’s 43rd.
Otherwise all those troops will be trapped if the Germans turn west.”

He knew
the Germans were not going to do that. They had already pulled the 12th Panzer
Division out of the fight for Maloyaroslavets and sent it north to Hoepner. Now
it was hitting the southern fringes of Rokossovsky’s battered 16th Army, which
was still grudgingly holding back the tide of steel pushing towards Moscow. His
reserves in the city were so thin now that any breakthrough could see those
fast moving German panzer divisions rushing up on the inner defense ring.

What he
needed now was infantry closer in to Moscow, which he knew was the final
objective of both Hoepner’s and Guderian’s effort. They want this city badly,
he thought, but they won’t set one foot on these streets. The men who will stop
them are in those armies, and I still have the Siberians out east… soon… but
not yet. When they get here, then we hit them.

“Get
those orders out immediately,” he said, then turned, his boots hard on the
stone tiled courtyard as he went.

The
night of the 20th, even as Model was pushing KG Munzel over the Oka, the whole
front was to move from a condition of relative stability to frenetic motion. It
was no small matter to move several armies thirty or forty kilometers to the
rear. Zhukov knew many of those rifle divisions would have little transport,
and that it would be days or even weeks before he had safely reshaped his
defenses.

Yet the
Germans were stretching, he knew. He could sense that they were also trying to
do everything possible to keep the advance going. He would have another
surprise for Guderian in short order, the 10th Army coming in on the trains
from Ryazan. Those troops, five fresh rifle divisions and a cavalry division,
would be thrown at that long flank stretching from the Oka at Serpukhov all the
way back to Tula. The Germans had some god awful new tanks now, and it was
neutralizing the temporary advantage his armored brigades had been enjoying
with their T-34s. So it would come back to the stolid rifle divisions in the
end, and more kept coming from the east, particularly the Siberians, who were
now the godsend of this entire defensive operation.