Tigers East (Kirov Series Book 25) Page 8

  Hermann Balck wasn’t the only one with good eyes and ears. The Soviets had enjoyed a rare local air superiority in the last two weeks, as Manstein’s advance outpaced the ability of the Luftwaffe to reposition and supply squadrons to airfields close enough to support it. Therefore, General Zhukov had a good bird’s eye view of what was happening on the ground. When he saw the dramatic breakthrough in his main attack, he clenched his fist with elation.

  He had pushed a tank corps and supporting cavalry divisions through that hole and seen them race over 120 kilometers to the south, all the way to threaten Morozovsk. He had killed the German 46th and 50th Infantry Divisions, cut the line of communications for the SS Panzer Korps, stopped the flow of supporting infantry, worsened its supply status, disrupted its attack at Kalach, forced Steiner to pull units out of that hard won bridgehead to cover his north and even western flanks. The Wiking Division had gone north, Totenkopf west to Morozovsk, Das Reich was pulled into reserve, its troops too exhausted and supplies too low to be used in the bridgehead battle any longer. There his two Aces still fought with the Volga Rifles, now heavily reinforced with the arrival of several independent tank brigades. The Germans would eventually restore their supply corridor, but not this week. He smiled.

  Now, however, he could also see the slashing counterattacks that began to bite into the western end of his offensive. A pair of fast moving German Panzer Divisions had punched, moved, punched again, until they had restored order and stabilized the entire German line from Boguchar to Veshenskaya. A third division was seen arriving on the trains at Millerovo, and he knew what was coming next. “Signal Yeremenko—Summer Fox,” he ordered.

  It was the prearranged code for consolidation and pullback. He wasn’t going to sit there and watch the Germans tear up his scattered dividions. So on the night when Balck was planning to strike, the Russians pulled back. Only the formations that had broken through near Morozovsk were to be sacrificed. They were too far south, so Zhukov ordered them to turn for the big bend of the Donets, tear up rail lines, blow bridges, and attempt to join Rokossovsky.

  His brief summer offensive was over, but he had gained nearly a month of valuable time for the citizens of Volgograd. As far as he was concerned, Operation Mars was a success.

  Chapter 9

  The German assessment of what had happened in that attack was quite different. The Russians had definitely caught them by surprise, and for eight long days their shock armies had rampaged across the steppes. Yet from the German perspective, they had seen the enemy throw the mass of all the forces they had available along the line of the Don against a string of German infantry divisions that had only recently taken up positions. The line had buckled, was pierced in at least two locations, with one very serious breach that led to the startling enemy drive on Morozovsk.

  Yet the presence of two panzer divisions, the 11th and 23rd, had stopped the wound at Boguchar, then swung east to smash into the flank of the enemy’s most serious penetration. The timely arrival of the 14th Panzer Korps had finally put an end to Zhukov’s offensive, but at some considerable cost.

  When Steiner sent the Wiking Division north into the breach at the height of the crisis, casualties had been high. When finally pulled off the line, the Germania Regiment was down to the strength of a reinforced company. There were only 18 rifle squads left of the 120 that had started the offensive a month earlier. Nordland had only 24 squads, battalion level strength. Only Westland survived reasonably intact, with 69 squads still on the line reinforcing a battered infantry regiment that had been whittled down to battalion strength. The rest of the Wiking Division had to be pulled back to the Chir for extensive rest and reorganization to a traditional Panzer Division structure. Nordland and Germania would combine their resources, and tanks and other assault guns were on the way to form a panzer regiment.

  Morozovsk was cleared of enemy infestation by the tired 3rd SS Division. 1st SS relieved the Wikings to fill the hole in the north, and the supply corridor would reopen by August 3rd. Manstein considered the affair nothing more than a spoiling attack, as massive as it was. His troops had even counterattacked to retake Kursk and change the headlines there once again, and all this news reaching Hitler restored his hopes and calmed his mood considerably. Manstein had done what he said he would do, and the outcome only increased the Führer’s confidence in his strategy, much to Halder’s displeasure. What might have happened if Manstein had not wrangled away the 14th Panzer Korps as he did, was not discussed, nor was there any mention of the fact that now there was no mobile reserve anywhere else on the front.

  In the meantime, Ivan Volkov was elated that his troops had finally made contact with the Germans at Tormosin. He ordered his bridging engineers to improve that crossing, expecting visitors soon, though none came. Then, knowing the Germans were in a fight to cross the Don at the Kalach Bridgehead, he gathered the disparate elements of two Army Korps and committed them in a drive north along the south bank of the Don towards Nizhny Chirskaya, a small town about 45 kilometers south of Kalach in a very marshy region of the Don bend. That was where the rail line from Morozovsk crossed the river before running up to Volgograd.

  A regiment of the Brandenburgers had taken that bridge, and now his troops cleared the southern and eastern banks of the Don to enable German bridging engineers to get to work on repairing the span. So the Germans had two bridges over the Don, and it was now only a matter of resting their shock troops, resupplying, cleaning up Zhukov’s mess, and bringing up the rest of Wietersheim’s 14th Panzer Korps. The 13th Panzer Division arrived on August 6th, moving up to finally seal off the massive breach those Shock Armies had torn in the German line. Balck moved his division, and other elements of the 48th Panzer Korps into reserve, and went off to look for von Knobelsdorff.

  Back at OKW, Halder was determined to get his hands on fresh troops for Armeegruppe Center. The collapse of the Kirov Pocket provided a massive pool of infantry that had been tied up there for over six months. He immediately began sorting through the available divisions, and sending them east towards the big operation by Model and Hoth. They had been the missing element there, as Manstein had correctly pointed out. There had been nothing to hold the shoulders of the German breakthrough, and so as it advanced, the Panzer Divisions had been roped into that duty, stopping their advance. It was only the commitment of Hoth’s 3rd Panzer Armee that allowed the drive to get as far as it did. Now the job was to get infantry east, move them into the shoulders of the breakthrough, free up those Panzers and get moving again.

  Both the 6th, 8th and 9th Infantry Korps would be sent, slowly arriving by rail and feeding into the line to relieve positions held by 2nd Panzer Armee. Hoth was already consolidating his divisions and front loading the tip of the spear, the most advanced positions attained after the initial breakthrough. If seen on a map, the German penetration was like a vast arm, reaching for Lipetsk, but there was no southern pincer moving on Voronezh. Halder had to settle for half an offensive, counting on the sheer mass and mobility of his Panzers. As long as he got up additional infantry support, he was ready to strike southeast yet again. It was going to produce another dramatic blow to the front.

  With the infantry relieving 2nd Panzer Armee, Model shifted the bulk of his divisions south, right at the junction of the Soviet 49th Army and the 1st Red Banner that had been sent up to form the southern shoulder of the initial penetration. Five Rifle Divisions were smashed, the headquarters of the 49th Army overrun, artillery positions decimated and the Germans were suddenly through, and pushing for Livny. At the same time, Hoth’s 3rd Panzer Armee broke through at the Schwerpunkt of the drive where he had been forced to stop weeks earlier, and his divisions came barreling into Yelets. By the 13th of August he had advanced elements 25 kilometers beyond the city. Halder finally had something to crow about at OKW.

  From the Russian Perspective This was yet another disaster, but one which Zhukov had anticipated. Where were all the Tank Armies? There was only one formed officially,
composed of 22nd, 23rd and 24th Tank Corps. All the other Tank Corps were operating independently, but these three combined as one under General Kusnetsov. They had been positioned behind Lipetsk, the apparent objective of Hoth’s drive weeks ago. And now, with the Germans on the move again, they crossed the upper Don River there and moved northwest of the city, preparing to strike at the German flank should the enemy attempt to take the city itself. Only one Motor Rifle Regiment of the as yet unformed 21st Tank Corps was posted in the city.

  In the meantime, the last surviving units of 17th Siberian, and all of Yeremenko’s 1st Red Banner Army, were being swarmed over by Model’s 2nd Panzer Armee. Any unit that was not pinned down in combat began a massed stampede south away from the onrushing tide of German steel. The axis of this new German breakthrough was going to take it behind Berzarin’s 27th Army, and the 40th Army under Podlas defending near Kursk. Behind the great bulge in the line created by those two armies, about 100 miles east northeast of Kursk at a small town on the rail line, sat Zhukov’s Central Front Reserve, the 11th Army under Morozov. It was a small force composed of four Rifle Divisions, an independent Rifle Brigade, a security regiment and supporting artillery. The first desperate refugees from the front were already straggling down from the north, and the 1st Heavy Artillery Division was in full retreat.

  It was a tense hour when Zhukov got the news. He had to decide quickly whether to commit his reserves to try and blunt this attack, or to attempt to extricate the 27th and 40th armies. His instinct warned him of the terrible danger he was facing. He could lose both armies, or see them trapped in a pocket, while the Germans pushed down towards Voronezh, and Morozov’s infantry was all he could put in their way. If Voronezh fell, then the whole line from Kursk to Boguchar on the middle Don was essentially cut off. It was either block the breakthrough in the north and hope the front could hold, or attempt to withdraw all six armies between the breakthrough zone and Boguchar, and fall back to the line of the Don running through Voronezh. Without consulting Sergei Kirov, he ordered the retreat.

  At least I’ll save something from this wreck, he thought. If I can get the bulk of the rifle divisions back to the Don, and hold in front of Voronezh, then we’ve got that city as a good supply center, and we can stop them from using this offensive to unhinge my entire front on the lower Don. 2nd Guards Army was trying to get to Valuki during my offensive. Of course it could not get there, but now it remains intact, reasonably well equipped, and still mobile. I will relieve it with the 11th Rifle Corps, and get it back to the nearest rail line. It can hold Voronezh for me. It must hold that city. This is all or nothing. If I don’t stop them and stabilize the front by September, then God only knows what might happen. I have nothing else in reserve—nothing!

  A day after he ordered that retreat, in walked a heavy set man, balding, round faced, and with a prominent mole near his nose under his left eye. He claimed that he had been sent directly to Zhukov’s HQ at Voronezh to determine what was happening and report to Sergei Kirov.

  “And you are?” asked Zhukov curtly.

  “Commissar Nikita Sergeyevich Khrushchev.”

  “Ah,” said Zhukov. “Then you are here to check up on me as well, eh Commissar?”

  “You might see things that way. We are abandoning Kursk, and losing a good deal of terrain with those orders you issued yesterday. Care to explain yourself, or should I simply tour the front and come to my own conclusions before I return to Leningrad with my report?”

  Khrushchev had become known as a troublemaker, a henchman, a watchdog all in one. And he always seemed to appear at the point of crisis. He had been at Kiev when that city was surrounded and so many were lost, and again at Kirov, where he had stayed in the pocket for several months before being flown out when Moscow burned. Wherever there was disaster, chaos, or calamity, Khrushchev would be sure to put in an appearance. Some whispered that he was one of Beria’s old men, though any who had sought to denounce him came to a swift and deadly end. And now, here he was again.

  “You may draw whatever conclusions you wish,” said Zhukov, not intimidated in the least. You were at Kiev, were you not? You were in the Kirov Pocket? Well, I do not have to tell you what happened to all those troops, when one timely backward step might have saved many armies to continue this struggle on other ground. The Rodina is a very big place, at least on my maps.”

  Khrushchev smiled. “May I see your map? I wish to review the dispositions of your forces given this sudden change in the front lines.”

  “They are there on the table, and as you will soon see, I am trying to save six armies from becoming the Kursk Pocket. I think we have had quite enough of that sort of heroic stand. Would you agree?”

  “Your offensive on the lower Don,” said Khrushchev, ignoring the question. “Has it been terminated?”

  “It has served its purpose, and I have consolidated on the ground we won with that attack.”

  “Then you have no further intention of pressuring the enemy line there?”

  “The mere presence of those troops is pressure enough—assuming I can keep them there and reform them. This new situation is the real crisis.”

  “Not Volgograd? Sergei Kirov is very determined to hold that city. We have held it for decades against Volkov’s troops, and he will not see it given away as you so lightly hand the Germans Kursk.”

  That remark irritated Zhukov, and he made no effort to conceal his displeasure. “Commissar, I can have you flown to Kursk if you like, and you may organize the defense there—you and your NKVD.”

  Khrushchev looked at him, again with a smile. “General, nobody likes me. Yes, I am well aware of this. Yet someone must look over a shoulder or two in this mess, and sort things out. Where do you mean to make your next stand?”

  “On the line of the Don.”

  “Then you will cede the enemy half of Voronezh?”

  “Commissar, one always holds both sides of a major water obstacle at a critical point like that. Rest assured, we will hold that city. I am sending the entire 2nd Guards Army there, and Kusnetsov’s 1st Tank Army is poised to deliver a strong spoiling attack if they persist towards Lipetsk. As for the armies I have ordered east, I would prefer to still be in command of them this winter. If I left them in the Kursk bulge, they would either be dead, in a German concentration camp, or perhaps huddling with you around a few last camp fires, making another heroic stand as at Kirov. Only they will have no plane ticket out.”

  “My,” said Khrushchev, “insult on top of injury. Very well, General Zhukov. I believe I have seen quite enough here, and yes, I do have another plane to catch—to Leningrad.”

  Zhukov cast a derisive glance over his shoulder as the man left him, shaking his head. Commissars, he thought. The world would be a much better place if we rounded them all up and shot them. Because if we don’t, that is what they will do to the rest of us one day—the high and the low.

  Khrushchev made one brief stop before he went to the airfield, taking a personal car to an isolated village east of Voronezh. He got out, the driver waiting, and made his way to a small insignificant farm house, ostensibly to visit a distant cousin, and deliver a bottle of good vodka, which he had in hand.

  No one was there, and once inside and alone, he sat himself down at the plain wood table and took out a small booklet. Leaning over, he grunted as he moved one of the floor boards, finding there a small box that hid a radio telegraph set. It would operate using the traditional key to tap out code, but send the signal wirelessly, like a radio might. His message was brief.

  ‘ZHUKOV ADAMANT. WITHDRAWING TO UPPER DON TO HOLD VORONEZH. 2ND GUARDS ARMY EN ROUTE. 1ST TANK ARMY TO MOUNT SPOILING ATTACK AT LIPETSK. NO FURTHER OFFENSIVE PLANNED FOR LOWER DON.’

  That was that, a very brief message in a special cyphered Morse, and it would be picked up by the nearest friendly listening station. There was just one catch—the nearest friendly listening post was not under Soviet command, because the rumors were all true. Nikita Khrushchev was a Vo
lkov man, through and through. His operatives would repeat the message, until the signal hopped east, over the Volga, and right into the eager ears of the security forces of Ivan Volkov. Khrushchev had been promised the entire province of the Ukraine after this was all over, and he intended to speed things along, any way he could.

  Unbeknownst to him, Berzin had men on the front lines as well, and with all the key headquarters. One had taken a particular interest in Nikita Sergeyevich Khrushchev, and he, too, would send a coded signal that night, right to Berzin himself. The Intelligence Chief would read it with some interest in his evening conference with Sergei Kirov.

  “What is it?” asked Kirov. “You look like you’ve eaten some bad borscht.”

  “Khrushchev,” said Berzin. “He visited Zhukov tonight as we ordered, but afterwards he did not go directly to the airfield, but to a farmhouse ten kilometers east of Voronezh.”

  “What would he be doing there?”

  “Who knows, but we picked up an enciphered signal about that same time. It might have originated with him….”

  Kirov took that in. “I know what you think of him, Grishin,” said Kirov, calling Berzin by the nickname he always used. “And I also know you expect me to protect him, but we can take no further chances after that little theater Beria pulled in Moscow. I know you did everything possible to root out his network. Red Rain was quite extreme. Yet we must accept the fact that Volkov still has men embedded within our own security system, and what better place than the ranks of the Commissars. Watch him,” he finished. “Watch him very closely….”

  Part IV