A lot of snow fell on New Year’s Eve, and during the next day the weather kept changing time and again: frost, then damp snow from low clouds, and then frost again. A festive calm descended over the positions. Both sides stood silent. Watches were organized in the tanks, outposts were set up and everyone else was allowed to rest in local houses and cellars. The men were restless, though. Driven by curiosity, tomfoolery, and mostly by booze, ‘horseless’ tankmen, together with tommy-gunners, forayed into the western and eastern suburbs of Dunaalmas, despite the ban: brief skirmishes occurred.
Lieutenant Yakovlev was one of the most zealous. He went to enemy positions more than once; he knew all the ins and outs and ruthlessly avenged the enemy for his two destroyed tanks and the deaths of his comrades. He incited Lieutenant Zorya, gunlayer Sergeant Roptanov, gunloader Sergeant Lysenko and radio-operator Sergeant Spiryugov to join him for another sally. Technician-Lieutenant Ramadze and the omnipresent Nikolka couldn’t desist from joining them as well. All of them kitted themselves out with tommy-guns, hand grenades and several Molotov cocktails before taking off to look for adventure. Yakovlev was jesting: ‘We’re gonna arrange a New Year commotion for the Fritzes. They’ll have great memories of us and this New Year party.’ Making his way secretly along footpaths known only to himself, he led his group to a cemetery. Having carefully sneaked between the graves and tombstones, he was leading the volunteers towards the western outskirts of the village when they suddenly encountered an ambush. Tommy-guns and hand grenades were quickly put to good use. Yakovlev threw two F-1 grenades, one immediately after the other, and dropped flat between the graves. Firing from his submachine gun, he yelled: ‘Guys, everyone pull back! I’ll give you cover!’ The tankmen didn’t wait too long and started running back. Yakovlev was spraying the Germans with bullets from his tommy-gun; the Germans, hiding behind tombstones, were firing back and throwing grenades, one of which exploded not far away from Ramadze and Zorya – in great pain they barely managed to make their way back to the battalion, assisted by Roptanov. Soon Yakovlev himself appeared, back in one piece.
While helping the wounded, Senior Lieutenant Kolesnichenko muttered: ‘You lads are idiots! You are looking for your own deaths.’ Ramadze and Zorya laughed the matter off: ‘Don’t curse, doctor. It will have healed by the day of the wedding.’ Major Grishenko arrived at the medical post. Unconstrained in his choice of words, he furiously scolded the officers. However, seeing the wounded men in pain, the major relaxed somewhat. Lieutenant Zorya was wounded in his groin, and Grishenko recommended to the doctor with a jeer that he should send him to the medical battalion on a horse. That evening all the wounded men were sent to the rear in a vehicle.
The relatively quiet situation calmed everyone. The festive atmosphere inspired the men and everyone took the opportunity to celebrate the New Year in whatever way they could. Field kitchens moved closer up to the front line, into the companies. The cooks did their best and prepared a festive dinner. The quartermasters issued men with rum instead of the normal 100-gram ration of vodka. The crews topped it up with wine from local cellars. Many of the guys cooked dumplings, pancakes and shash-liks,59 and ate in small groups of friends.
Lesha Rybakov crawled down to the Danube through a drainage pipe, and down there he found a small restaurant with a view over the magnificent river. He coerced the owner into setting up a decent table with dainty drinks; happy with his achievements, he then invited Grishenko, Klaustin, Sergienko and me for a party. Klimov and Gulyayev stayed back in the battalion. The driver of the 2nd Battalion commander’s tank – a bloke from Siberia called Sergeant Mayakin – made dumplings and boiled them up, putting them on the table on a large charger, steaming and giving off exquisite odours that whet our appetite.
Dinner lasted until late into the evening. Having had a good feed and warmed up by spirits, many men tumbled happily into their beds. Unfortunately, the enemy had been waiting for this very moment – an incredibly powerful artillery bombardment began. The frozen ground trembled from the force of the explosions. Under cover of the artillery fire an enemy tank armada advanced from Komarno towards Tata in two columns. One column turned east to attack Dunaalmas and Samod. Hundreds of flares were fired into the air: it became as bright as broad daylight.
The strike caught our front-line units unawares. It was hard to understand what was happening. We leapt out of the restaurant and under heavy enemy fire managed to crawl back via the drainage pipe to our tanks. The battalion had already started to engage the attacking enemy. Having quickly grasped the situation, the combat issued a short and simple order: ‘Hold out on the occupied line.’ I jumped into my tank without delay and set about executing that order. The enemy tanks, supported by infantry and artillery fire, were delivering their main strike along the high road leading to Neszmely. Fierce fighting was taking place in Dunaalmas. The tanks of the battalion, barely holding out against the enemy onslaught, began to pull back, returning fire as they did. The scene was illuminated by the pale light of the flares, as the infantry was withdrawing, glancing and shooting backwards as they went, following the artillerymen who were retreating to new positions. Everything was mixed up, control over the troops had been lost and the air was full of various orders, and yelling and cursing. Our troops were close to flight, and it was only the darkness and snowfall that stopped the enemy from capitalizing on their favourable situation.
The 2nd Battalion made a fighting retreat to Hill 294. The tanks spread out, taking previously arranged positions, and prepared for action. The infantry was still retreating, and so the tanks stayed one-on-one with the enemy. A strike of such magnitude had taken us completely by surprise. Lack of organized cooperation between our tanks and our infantry, as well as the coordinated action between the enemy advanced units, allowed them to gain immediate success and press our infantry units. The 232nd Guards Regiment started to retreat after the first enemy onslaught, and our 170th Tank Brigade remained alone without cover.
Under the enemy’s powerful blows the 1st Battalion wavered and began to back off south-eastwards. Junior Lieutenant Dosuzhev’s tank got bogged down in a small river during the retreat. At first the crews managed to fend off the enemy, but soon the tank was destroyed. Having chucked the gun-lock wedge into the water and destroyed the engine with a hand grenade, the crews made their way slowly back to the battalion position, returning fire as they went. Wounded, exhausted and shattered, the tankmen only arrived back at their company at the end of 2 January. The 2nd and the 3rd tank battalions, together with the battalion of tommy-gunners, pulled back to the Hill 294–Dunaszentmiklos line, where they subsequently ended up fending off enemy attacks all day during the 2nd.
The brigade found itself in the most difficult situation. Cooperation between ourselves and the 80th Guards Rifle Division had not been established, and we acted separately, at the discretion of our commanders. Communications with the corps were broken time and again; the communications officers carrying battle instructions were delayed; and the combrig and the combats had to act according to their own individual circumstances. The men fought selflessly, getting wounded or dying, but wouldn’t leave their positions without orders.
On 3 January Colonel Chunikhin received an order via a communications officer to be at the disposal of the commander of the 31st Guards Rifle Corps and, operating in conjunction with the latter, prevent the enemy’s advance to the south and south-east. Shortly afterwards, the enemy had reconquered Dunaszentmiklos, Neszmely, Schutte and Tordas. The brigade now found itself to the rear of the enemy. There was no more communication with the corps – after fruitless attempts to get in touch with the corps or neighbouring friendly units, the combrig decided he had no choice but to blow up all inoperable tanks, dismantle their machine guns and fight our way towards Marat–Csomor so as to take up a defensive line there. The selected route ran via field and forest roads, bypassing towns and villages. Twenty-two control points – where timely reports were to be made upon each arrival – were also defined.
The 2nd Tank Battalion was placed in the vanguard, and our 1st Battalion was to be in the rearguard. The full responsibility for breaking out of the encirclement fell on these two units. The 2nd Tank Battalion would clear the way for the brigade; Panfilov’s company was leading. They travelled day and night without a break. South of Bajna the tanks bumped into an ambush in the woods within a broad glade: the enemy assault guns, artillery and infantry opened an intense fire. The enemy air force came over as well and began to bomb the battalion. The small patch of open land in the woods turned into a scene from hell. The combat ordered the guns to be turned around so we could smash our way directly through the woods. Crushing trees and bushes, mashing them into the ground, the battalion cleared the way for the brigade. The forest saved us and provided cover from the aircraft.
The tankmen came upon a farmstead which was not indicated on the map. Lieutenant Chebotarev’s scouts surrounded the house and broke into it, but there was no one in apart from the owners. The farmer told us that there had been German tanks in the vicinity just before, but they had taken off eastwards in haste. Suddenly a medic’s vehicle rolled up to the house – a young medical officer leapt out, followed by some cute nurses. The officer was agitated and alarmed: the previous night he had fallen behind his battalion and was now trying to catch up with it. Koltunov, Chashegorov and Chebotarev couldn’t help him – they didn’t know themselves where the enemy and friendly units were. Seeing some of the wounded men on the armour, the nurses suggested they should take them along, but our medical attendant Anna Leontievna Dron objected. The officer bid farewell, got back into the vehicle and quickly drove away along a field road.
Some time later, having reported the passing of another control point and the current situation, Koltunov and Chashegorov led the battalion along a road in the woods. Soon they came across the medic’s vehicle. The driver lay dead in the cab; the officer lay flat on the ground covered in blood. Half-naked, raped and beaten, the nurses lay in the snow nearby, close to some bushes. Some were still alive. The medical attendant Dron hushed the tankmen: ‘What are you staring at? Haven’t you seen naked women before?’ Cursing the Germans, she covered the girls and tended to the ones still breathing.
There was obviously trouble ahead on this route, and the combrig sent the battalion along a narrow-gauge railway line instead. This road wasn’t the best, but there was no choice. It was hard to keep moving, especially for the motor cars. Many vehicles broke down, and they had to be left behind, after setting fire to them. The tanks hobbled along, making life miserable for the crews inside and the infantrymen on the armour. But under the effects of fatigue and psychological tension, men can fall asleep even under these difficult circumstances. A tommy-gunner, Private Kostya Ushakov, fell asleep at a tricky stretch of the road and tumbled into a ravine. The battered and unconscious man was recovered and handed over to the medical platoon. Meanwhile, this hellish march continued into the evening, until we managed to finally find a field road.
After this Colonel Chunikhin led the brigade via roadless terrain directly towards Csömör. The rumbling of explosions we could hear in front of us grew more and more distinct – fierce action was obviously happening ahead. As we approached Csomor, at the point when we had to cross a vast field, enemy aircraft appeared once again and pounced on the remaining tanks. Two flak machine guns couldn’t do anything significant to combat them. Fortunately our red-starred fighter planes appeared quite quickly and a dogfight broke out above us. Having dashed across the open terrain we entered the forest and by the morning of the 4th the combrig had brought the brigade close to Csomor, where an intense battle was playing out.
Deploying the 2nd and 3rd tank battalions and a battalion of tommy-gunners, the combrig led them into attack himself. A strike from the rear proved to be key to the outcome of the battle: the enemy was destroyed, and the brigade assumed defence of the town, together with the infantry. The brigade HQ now managed to get in touch with the corps, who were very relieved to hear from us. The order came through: ‘Until you receive a special directive, stay at that position.’ The enemy kept counterattacking us throughout the day, trying to dislodge our tanks and infantry from the town. Their air force bombed us continuously – though no longer with impunity, as we now had two anti-aircraft artillery regiments and our company60 of flak machine guns deployed. The flak gunners fired pretty accurately and shot down two enemy planes, to great cheers from the defending troops. Some of the more curious guys started running towards the burning aircraft, but it suddenly exploded – the blokes ran back to laughter and hooting from the rest.
The brigade was engaged in heavy defensive action in Somod without our battalion, whose continued existence was only known to HQ from the brief signals on passing the control points that had been providently defined by our combrig during the retreat. From the very beginning of the retreat the hardest strikes fell on our battalion. Covering the brigade’s retreat, the battalion consolidated positions on the heights south-east of Dunaalmas. German tanks began to bypass us on the flanks: the enemy was trying to crush our resistance and switch to pursuit of the brigade. Nonetheless, Major Grishenko ordered us to withdraw only when the brigade had reached the Schutte–Tordas road.
The combat gave me all the remaining tanks and ordered me to cover the retreat of the unit at predefined lines. He combined all the motor cars into one column and headed towards Somod, escorted by his personal tank. I left three tanks at the occupied line, helped Markov organize an ambush across a wide defensive sector and ordered him to hold the line until the main forces of my company reached the new line. After this I formed a single column and rushed to follow the battalion column. The enemy sprang forward immediately. Having regrouped, they counterattacked with even greater ferocity. Dusk was close when seven German tanks, supported by artillery and infantry, attacked the platoon’s left defensive screen. Markov, Gliva and Tkachev opened fire from shelters. The German shaped their V-battle order in reverse, intending to encircle our tanks and wipe them out, but successful shooting by Tkachev and Gliva matched the enemy’s zeal: two enemy tanks caught fire on the flanks immediately, and another one quickly followed. The enemy battle order fell into confusion, though two shells hit the side of Markov’s machine – the tank billowed smoke and then burst into flame. The crew managed to leap out and crawl back to Gliva’s tank under cover of friendly fire. The fighting continued, but when it had become completely dark the enemy, having had no success, turned sideways and pulled out.
Markov, who had taken over from Gliva, reported back to me on the implementation of the orders and then dashed off to a new defensive line, following the company. By dawn of the next day the company, with Gliva’s and Tkachev’s tanks, took up position at the Schutte–Tatabanya line. This time we picked suitably sheltered positions for the tanks, managed to feed the men, replenish ammo stocks and get ready for action. I took up a position in the centre of the battle line from where I had a wide view of the battlefield and could direct the tanks properly.
It was growing light. The sun was lazily shining through a thick shroud of fog when the enemy appeared. There were seven tanks in the first line, then six armoured vehicles with infantry, followed by a further five tanks. It was a formidable force, but twelve tanks attacking against our seven in defence was not too great a number. Having assessed the ratio of forces I ordered everyone via the two-way to get ready for action, not to open fire from long distance and to let the enemy tanks close in to a distance of 600–700 metres. The tankmen waited tensely in anticipation. The enemy machines quickly approached, deployed and then boldly attacked us. They began to shoot from long distance, apparently trying to stress us psychologically with their intense fire.
Having let the enemy get closer, I shouted the order to engage them. The rate of enemy fire correspondingly intensified straight away, and their infantry rushed forward, yelling ‘Hurray!’ (these were Vlassovites61 who were attacking us), but fire from a platoon of tommy-gunners and the tanks’ frontal machine guns made them quickly drop flat to the ground. Three enemy tanks caught ablaze one after another, but Yarochkin’s tank was badly damaged as well – the wounded crewmen barely managing to crawl out of the machine. The action was becoming fiercer and fiercer. The enemy was trying hard to dislodge our screen and continue their advance: five more tanks were thrown into the battle on the left flank. Three of these tanks engaged Burtsev’s tank – the crew was fighting back with a huge amount of effort. They managed to shoot up one tank, and two more were destroyed by me and Lieutenant Bikmulin. The enemy could no longer withstand the pressure of the battle and began to pull back, looking for cover. They moved off to one side, on a hillock behind the cover of a small forest, and then withdrew completely, having left six burnt-out tanks and four armoured vehicles on the battlefield.
Our battalion put itself into order and took off towards Bajna. It was followed by the tank column of our company. Unfortunately enemy aircraft came over again at that point and began to tear the battalion into pieces. After successfully bombing us, the aircraft flew off; we buried the dead, picked up the wounded and kept marching towards Bajna. We deployed our tank column at the western outskirts of the town, and, under cover of this screen, the battalion marched to Somod to link up with the brigade. Before long a column of five German tanks and four armoured vehicles appeared on the road to Bajna. Once again letting them come in close, we opened fire. The leading tank caught fire, and the others turned around immediately and turned tail.
By the end of 4 January the battalion had arrived at the defensive perimeter of the brigade, and Major Grishenko reported on the execution of the task to the combrig. Chunikhin received the battalion with great joy, cordially hugged the combat and ordering that the men who had distinguished themselves be put forward for decoration. The battalion was withdrawn into the reserve and set about preparing routes and starting lines for counter-attacks.
On the night of the 5th the brigade received an order to pull back and to take up position on a defensive line north-west of Felso-Eres. The 1st and the 2nd tank battalions, with two companies of tommy-gunners, set up defensive positions in gardens and along the edge of a grove north and west of Felso-Eres. Having set up Junior Lieutenant Apushinskiy’s platoon as an ambush at the forest edge, the 3rd Tank Battalion set up a defence line straddling a road junction 1 kilometre east of Felso-Eres. At dawn the combrig specified the defence lines in the field, and straight away we set about consolidating those positions. Motor cars were bringing in fuel and ammo, getting unloaded and then picking up wounded men and taking them back to the rear. We refuelled and replenished our ammo stocks without stopping the engineering work: we knew we were running out of time as the enemy was bearing down on us. The combrig appointed Captain Klaustin as the deputy battalion commander and ordered him to act as the 1st Tank Battalion commander instead of Grishenko, who had been wounded in action. I was appointed as the battalion Chief-of-Staff.
The weather deteriorated. It was frosty, and a thick blanket of snow then covered the ground. The enemy air force was inactive, but their artillery – especially rocket mortars – significantly intensified their fire. Covered by this fire, the enemy units deployed and began their assault on the brigade. Fierce fighting broke out: the enemy doggedly pressed forward, throwing tanks, assault guns, armoured vehicles and infantry into action. They were trying to capture Jambek – an important road junction on the way to Budapest. The heaviest fighting occurred in the second half of 6 January, when the enemy had deployed a large amount of armour and infantrymen. The action was fierce: seven tanks and six armoured vehicles ended up smoking and burning in front of our defensive line, and dozens of corpses lay sprawled in the snow, although the number of dead and wounded on our side kept increasing as well.
Senior Lieutenant Ryazantsev was dispatched to the 2nd Battalion in the thick of the battle with new instructions. Rushing from one shelter to another, through the woods and across the open fields, he was making his way to the battalion, but failed to reach his destination. The enemy were continually shelling our lines at that point, and apparently Ryazantsev was hit. The incident alarmed the brigade command – a special search party was formed and, together with the scouts, it combed the adjacent woods and fields, but Nikolay was never found amongst all the dead. Thus another courageous and gallant officer perished. At the end of March 1945 he was awarded the rank of Hero of the Soviet Union posthu-mously.62
The day was foul, and dusk came early. The tankmen hoped that the enemy wouldn’t attack at night, but the brigade positions were assaulted once more. The battalions began to retreat, beating the enemy off with their last ounces of strength. The enemy tanks burst into the suburbs of Felso-Eres. Only our obstinate resistance, cover of darkness and the strong sleet-laden wind prevented the enemy from progressing further. The combrig decided to try to disengage from the enemy and to take up a more suitable line under cover of the night. Following his orders the brigade pulled back and set up a line 1 kilometre south of Felso-Eres and 2 kilometres north-west of Man. As for me, I was ordered to cover the brigade’s retreat with the battalion’s tanks. So the 1st Tank Battalion kept on fighting and intensified their fire. Luckily, the enemy didn’t notice the brigade retreat and regroup forces in preparation for an attack in the morning. Meanwhile, however, the enemy artillery was systematically shelling us. Having accomplished my task, I slowly pulled the tanks back, returning fire as we went, and grouped them into a single column in the woods. We arrived back at the brigade HQ, and only then did the Germans discover that all the tanks had retreated. They strengthened their bombardment, but didn’t dare pursue us at night and in such foul weather.
Having stopped the column next to the brigade command post, I jumped out of the tank and walked with the battalion operations officer, Zhuravlev, towards the cellar where the HQ was congregated. Just then artillery fire rained down on the brigade HQ: shells and mortar mines were exploding everywhere. Trying to escape this onslaught, we dropped to the ground under a huge pine tree. The shelling ceased as suddenly as it had begun. I jumped up and ran, limping, to the cellar, while the badly wounded Zhuravlev stayed on the ground, covered in blood. I burst into the cellar, furiously cursing the bloody Fascists as I entered. Chunikhin quickly calmed me down: ‘Stop swearing. What’s the matter?’
‘Zhuravlev’s back there, badly wounded under a pine tree!’
Without delay a staff officer named Zhukov rushed to help out. I tried to report on the implementation of our orders, but the combrig stopped me and called for a doctor. Lieutenant Maximova examined me and tended my wounds, bandaging them and then putting me on a stretcher. Soon they brought Zhuravlev in as well; early in the morning all the wounded men, including me, were sent to hospital.
Having stayed in hospital for a couple of days I discharged myself. By the time I returned, there were hardly any tanks or men left in our battalion. The combrig ordered the remaining machines to be handed over to the 2nd Battalion and transferred the remaining personnel back to the reserve. We billeted in Tordas Manor; Major Grishenko, who had also been discharged from hospital, arrived there as well.
Maria Maltseva also came to visit me and reminded me about our previous conversation: ‘Vasya, do you remember – you promised that when you became the Chief-of-Staff, you would transfer me to your battalion?’
‘Masha, it’s not the right time. Fighting is still going on. When I become the battalion commander, it will be a different story,’ I replied – I was making excuses.
She left, offended.
After the failure of their second counterblow the enemy ceased their offensive along the whole front. However, they had not abandoned the plan to break through to their army group that was surrounded in Budapest, and were preparing another specific counter-attack there. This time they intended to tear through our defences between the Balaton and Velence lakes, reach the Danube north of Dunafoldvar, destroy the troops of the 3rd Ukrainian Front and then relieve the troops from the Budapest pocket. On 18 January the combrig received an order from the comcor: ‘Set on a march, together with the 1438th SPG Regiment, which has only four SU-85s, and by 19 January take up defence at the Isnefalva–Bebitz– -Nagyhergen line and do not let the enemy advance to the south and south-east.’
The battered brigade dutifully formed a column and set out to march to the defined line, led by the combrig in person. We passed through familiar countryside, this time heading in the opposite direction. Having covered 70 kilometres in a night march, the brigade reached Sarosd by 02.00 on 19 January. Gusak, the head of the scouts, reported that the enemy had captured Sarkerstur and was advancing eastwards to Dunapentle. Chunikhin reported the situation to the corps HQ and was ordered to take up a defensive position at the Alsoberecki–Sarbogard line and prevent the enemy advancing towards Cece. The brigade headed from Sarbogard to Hantos without delay. As we approached Nagylok we came across the military commandant of Sarbogard with a representative of the 7th Guards Mechanized Corps. They told us that the enemy tanks had burst into Sarbogard. Around the same time, we lost communications with corps HQ. The situation was turning bad for us – the enemy was advancing towards the Danube from several directions.
Immediately the combrig ordered the 2nd Tank Battalion, together with a company of tommy-gunners, to make a defensive line 2 kilometres north-east of Kislok in order to prevent the enemy advancing to the east and south-east. He also ordered the 3rd Tank Battalion to block the road at Sarszentmiklos to prevent the enemy breakthrough to Herczegfalva, and he left the SPGs in reserve.
In the meantime, overnight the enemy had set up bridges over the Sarviz canal; they had crossed it and were currently advancing towards the Danube. The main forces of the 18th Tank Corps were fighting the fiercest action in the area of Szekesfehervar. Lieutenant Chebotarev arrived and reported that up to thirty tanks were heading towards Herczegfalva. Having listened to the scouts, Colonel Chunikhin gave orders to prepare for action. He instructed that the tank column be allowed to approach as closely as possible, then we were to destroy the lead tanks and finish off the rest while they tried to deploy into battle order.
Against the snowy background the enemy tank column could be seen approaching over the horizon, smoothly moving forwards, seemingly without haste. Having let the lead tank get just 400 metres away from us, Otroshenkov ordered ‘Fire!’ All cannons and machine guns began to shoot: the defence line came to life. Vasadze shot up the head tank with his first shot – though other tanks were firing at it as well. The enemy column fell into disarray immediately: the vanguard tanks stopped, the following ones began to jerk from one side to another because of the suddenness of the attack, and then turned around slowly, exposing their sides to us. Despite this, Otroshenkov’s men failed to capitalize on such an advantageous situation.
The 3rd Tank Battalion wavered, pulling back and only consolidating at a junction of roads leading to Dunafoldvar and Dunapentle. The enemy tanks captured Herczegfalva and continued their move towards Cece. The 2nd Tank Battalion, meanwhile, was fending off an enemy onslaught in the area of Kislok. The combrig reinforced the 3rd Battalion with two SU-100 assault guns and a battalion of tommy-gunners, and ordered it to take up perimeter defence at the road junction and hold the position.
Serezha Otroshenkov was extremely dynamic: aware that the enemy was about to appear in front of the battalion, he was running along the line like a meteor, setting up each and every tank’s and SPG’s position and defining lines for the tommy-gunners. The tank crews worked zealously, digging into the frozen ground, doing their best to protect at least the running gear and the sides. Inwardly we were tense and uneasy – everybody was aware how critical the situation was.
The enemy failed to consolidate their grip properly though. In the middle of the day a column of tanks and armoured vehicles accompanied by infantry appeared. Having passed Csorvas, seven Panthers and an infantry battalion deployed and rapidly attacked our positions, trying to fight their way through to Dunapentle. We had always considered the German tankmen’s abilities to be excellent, and the Tiger and Panther tanks had excellent gunsights. It was always very hard to fight them – high-level skills, a knack of fighting and composure were definitely required.
Gaining speed, the enemy tanks were approaching our line fast. Their aircraft came over at this point as well and began to dive-bomb and strafe us. Our relatively low-power flak company opened fire: it didn’t result in any serious damage but obviously rattled the airmen psychologically – their targetting was not very accurate afterwards. After the aircraft had passed over, the enemy tanks pounced on the positions of the 3rd Battalion. Junior Lieutenant K.M. Prokhorenko let a Panther come right up close, then fired, scoring a direct hit with his second shell, and finishing the job with a third one. Prokhorenko’s tank was subsequently targeted by the enemy, and soon an armour-piercing shell punched a hole all the way through his turret. A second shell hit the side of the tank and it was all over for them: the machine caught fire and the whole crew perished. The fighting continued, but after a while the enemy retreated, having lost three tanks, two armoured vehicles and a dozen corpses in the snow. Three of our tanks were destroyed.
The combrig appreciated the strategic importance of the road junction, and moved the tanks of the 2nd Battalion, his reserve and an operations group to the spot. In fact he gathered all that was left of the brigade into one group and placed it under his personal charge. Having regrouped themselves somewhat, the enemy undertook a new assault to try to dislodge the brigade. Tanks, assault guns, armoured vehicles and infantry were again thrown into battle. The area surrounding us was groaning and shaking from the explosions of bombs, shells and mortar mines. The enemy was hitting us full on, trying to capture the junction at all costs, but the pathetic remains of our brigade was still fighting tooth and nail to the bitter end. Our resistance paid off and the enemy retired once more, having lost another couple of tanks, three more armoured vehicles and numerous corpses on the battlefield. But we now only had six tanks left in the brigade ourselves.
Having had no success, the enemy began to bypass the brigade, building its strength to the east and to the north. We were under threat of encirclement, but the brigade had no strength for proactive warfare, and the combrig decided to stick to his strategy of holding the defensive position, and fighting to the last man. There was no other choice.
During the most recent action the two-way had been damaged – there was no more communication with the corps. The combrig sent a report to HQ via a communications officer, Saltykov, instead. In this report he asked for permission to retreat to the line of the rifle units. Not knowing the current situation in the brigade, the comcor at the same time sent his own communications officer to the brigade with the order: ‘Hold the occupied lines, and at night counter-attack suddenly and capture Sarbogard.’ However, the corps communications officer lost his way and failed to find the brigade.
The scouts were actively reconnoitring and reporting to the combrig that the enemy had turned from Herczegfalva to the north and north-east – they were eagerly trying to reach the Danube! By the end of the day a small column of tanks and infantry attacked us once more, trying to dislodge us from the road junction. Unsuccessful, the enemy tanks outflanked our positions on the left and captured Nagy. During the second half of 19 January the enemy units reached Dunapentle, and by the morning of the 20th they came up against the Danube. The troops of the 3rd Ukrainian Front were now cut into two parts – presenting us with a complicated situation.
Our brigade was in dire straits. It was isolated from the main forces of the corps, from its own rear lines and from the HQ. There were very few tanks and infantry remaining; there were no neighbouring units and no communications with the corps. Most of the communications officers – who had constantly been encountering the enemy – had been killed. The enemy had packed all the roads with tanks, artillery and infantry, and their air force was raging. The extent of the enemy breakthrough was increasing. The brigade found itself in the enemy’s rear. We had to act on our own initiative, and, to Chunikhin’s credit, he didn’t waver: he held fast and saved the brigade.
To our great delight, the 2nd Battalion of the 32nd Motorized Rifle Brigade and the 1000th Anti-tank Regiment, which had only two SPGs left, arrived. Chunikhin managed to get in touch with the comcor via the regiment commander’s radio system. Without even listening to the combrig, and showing no interest whatsoever in our circumstances, Major-General Govorunenko reprimanded him for the communications breakdown, expressing his dissatisfaction with the brigade’s conduct, and then confirmed the order that the corps communications officer had failed to deliver. Colonel Chunikhin patiently listened to the comcor’s reproofs and then managed to convince the general that, under the current circumstances, such an order was not executable, and that there had been no point staying at the occupied line in isolation from other Russian troops. After thinking it over for a short time, the comcor grudgingly agreed with Chunikhin and ordered him to take up a new line to prevent the enemy’s advance towards Perkata. During the night, therefore, the brigade took off and headed to the agreed position. By the time we arrived the enemy had captured Perkata. The combrig reported the situation and was ordered to move to the area of Sarosd instead, where we were supposed to consolidate at a new defensive line. There were only four tanks, four SU-85 SPGs and about sixty tommy-gunners left in the brigade at this point.
On 20 January, the enemy was developing their offensive throughout the day. The most intense fighting broke out around Szekesfehervar: the enemy had surrounded the town and was trying to capture it at all costs, realizing its strategic importantance. They failed, however, as the 21st and 133rd Rifle Corps and the 18th Tank Corps held the line steadfastly, with the commander undertaking staunch measures to prevent the enemy reaching the Danube.
The brigade remained all day long in a grove north of Sarosd. Communication with the corps was lost once again, and the combrig was nervous. Communications officers departed to search for the corps HQ; the uncertainty of the situation lay heavily on us. The only cheerful moment was provided by our maintenance men who sent two repaired tanks back to the battalion. After a long delay communication with the corps was restored, and the combrig received the order: ‘March towards Eloszallas. Set up a defence line in Eloszallas and cover the left flank of the corps’ defensive position.’
The corps’ forces appeared. Colonel Chunikhin was instructed to hand the remaining tanks and SPGs over to the 110th Tank Brigade. While the transfer was taking place the enemy suddenly attacked from Csorvas with a force of six tanks and infantry in armoured vehicles. The tankers were not ready for this action, and there were great confusion and bewilderment as a consequence. Dozens of flares were fired into the sky. The enemy burst into the brigade’s defence area – a fierce battle broke out. With great difficulty the combrig restored order and managed to organize a repulse action, but we failed to hold the road junction. Having lost three tanks, our brigade retreated.
By the end of the 21st the situation regarding the 3rd Ukrainian Front was still complicated. The enemy was advancing towards Budapest. The enemy tanks had reached the Danube, and, expanding the area of breakthrough, they struck at our rear lines. An avalanche of vehicles, rear-line columns of troops, divisions and brigades tried to get over river crossings in Dunafoldvar, Ercsi, Baja and Csepel. Thousands of vehicles and carts gathered before each crossing. The enemy aircraft bombed them without hindrance, hounding the defenceless men and machines.
The rear units of our 170th Tank Brigade approached the crossing near Ercsi, together with the rear units of the corps. The situation in front of the crossing was ludicrous: vehicles and carts with wounded men, fuel, ammunition and other matériel were all massed in a huge muddle. More columns were pressing in from all the adjacent roads, driven by fear of assault by German tanks and aircraft. Everyone was eager to reach the crossing and get onto the opposite bank as quickly as possible. The noise, yelling and cursing were incredible!
The commandant of the crossing, in his unbuttoned trench coat and with a pistol in hand, was yelling hoarsely, barely holding some back, threatening others and letting the lucky ones through. Underpowered and worn-out motorboats were tugging huge ferryboats across the flooded, rapid Danube. Fear and defencelessness were driving people: everyone was trying to dodge, cheat or fight their way through the mêlée, but the commandant was unyielding. Miraculously he managed to get the wounded men across first, and only then did he set about getting the rear-line units over. Mortar men embarked on one ferryboat in front of us, and then it was our turn. Sasha Chashegorov made his way to the commandant and got a ferryboat from him. We got on it and as soon as we’d cast off we saw another ferry get blown up after hitting a floating mine. The horrific scene shook everyone. Fortunately our ferry, with the HQ and battalion rear-line units on board, managed to cross the river and moor safely. The men quickly disembarked, still able to see the terrible aftermath of the other ferry: corpses of men and horses were floating in the water; the medics were pulling them out of the river. Wounded men were getting assistance; dead men were getting buried. The rear-line units of the other battalions followed shortly afterwards and then all units headed to the area around Eloszallas in a single column.
A train carrying nineteen T-34 tanks had arrived at Eloszallas station, and the combrig handed all of them over to the 3rd Tank Battalion. Captain Otroshenkov unloaded the machines and stationed the battalion in a farmstead 4 kilometres east of Eloszallas. Vasadze was the only man left from the original officer staff of the battalion. The unit needed to be drilled and knitted together again, but there was no time for any of that. The battalion HQ quickly conducted a roll-call, refuelled the tanks, loaded in ammo and during the night of the 23rd set off on a march and took up position on the northern side of the Felso–Pozmend–Kokosci– Eger line. The brigade HQ moved up to this line as well.
Later in the day fifteen brand-new SU-76 SPGs arrived for the brigade. The tankmen had not seen such machines before and initial assessment of them was pretty sceptical. The weak armour protection and low power of the gun meant it would not find any favourable niche in the history books: it would disappear from the front line as suddenly as it had appeared, having been given the unflattering nickname ‘cigarette lighter’. But back then the 2nd Tank Battalion was reorganized into an SPG unit because of these things. An unusual battalion structure was introduced: three batteries comprising five SPGs apiece. Straight away, we encountered problems with the supply of fuel, ammunition and spare parts for the machines.
By the morning of 24 January the battalion took up a defensive position to the right of the 3rd Tank Battalion and the next day a train arrived with more T-34 tanks for the brigade. At last our battalion was fully armed again: over a short period of time we were up to strength with machines and men and had become a battleworthy unit once more. On the 26th the offensive capability of the enemy had deteriorated, and an opportunity arose to encircle their units which had broken through to the Danube. The 170th Brigade was ordered to advance towards Herczegfalva.
Having evaluated the situation and worked out the timings, Chunikhin issued instructions to the staff officers and battalion and company commanders, after which he went off into the field to liaise with the unit commanders. The brigade staff set about preparations on that overcast and uncomfortable January day, under the cover of a stunted grove.
The scouts’ commander Gusak reported the enemy defensive formations, showing positions of their strongpoints and fire emplacements at the front line and further back, as well as the placement of the enemy reserves. The combrig subsequently specified tasks for the 1st and 3rd battalions and assignment of the SPGs – one battery was attached to each battalion, and one battery was left in the combrig’s reserve, its deployment planned to cover the brigade’s flanks. Cooperation between the battalions and their neighbouring units was set up as well. Most attention was given to the activities of the 3rd Tank Battalion, which was planning to capture Herczegfalva, and the subsequent development of this assault by the 1st Tank Battalion towards Melkut, Meyvelde and north Perkata. Summarizing the briefing, the Chief-of-Staff explained the order of action, control lines and communications.
Happy that the set tasks had been understood, the combrig gave the combats a chance to filter this down to the company commanders, and they in their turn passed it on to the platoon and tank commanders. The combrig left Major Novikov – a big, erudite, competent and knowledgeable officer – in place to carry out the general supervision. Such practical demonstration and delegation of work was always a real inspiration for young callow officers and helped them develop strong commanding skills of their own. Not everyone liked the colonel’s style and method of leading. He was often called ‘liberal’ and ‘democrat’ behind his back. A forceful character and attitude were often considered more valuable, which was why our combrig was passed over for decoration and promotions. At the same time the comcor would always throw our brigade into the most threatening situations at the most alarming times – and the combrig would always carry out the assigned tasks with honour.
Captain Klaustin now acted as our battalion commander for the first time. Acting as the Chief-of-Staff, Commissar Klimov and I did our best to assist him. The wound in my leg had not completely healed yet, and I walked leaning on a stick.
During the night of 27 January the brigade began to move forward and took up starting lines for the offensive. The 1114th Anti-Aircraft Artillery Regiment and a battery of SPGs from the 363rd Artillery Regiment, armed with heavy howitzers, arrived as well.
The brigade proceeded towards Kokasd, Melkut and north Perkata following a signal from the comcor. All three brigades of the corps, co -operating with infantry from the 133rd Rifle Corps, began to engage and destroy enemy units. Our battalion was still in the second echelon, but the 3rd burst into the south-east outskirts of Herczegfalva and, together with the other brigades, captured this key location. Towards the end of the day we reached an area 1 kilometre east of Perkata, and here we encountered well-organized resistance from enemy tanks, artillery and infantry. Furthermore, four of our tanks were damaged by mines, but the descending darkness hid them from enemy fire, allowing us to rescue them and their crews and patch them up.
On the morning of the 28th the 1st and 3rd tank battalions resumed their offensive. Hitting tough resistance, our battalion tried to outflank Perkata from the north instead. The 3rd Battalion, together with a regiment of the 68th Rifle Division, approached Perkata from the south-east and suddenly encountered strong fire from enemy tanks; the battalions rolled back. The combrig with his operations group came about, evaluated the situation and organized a fresh attack. After a fierce action they managed to capture part of the village, although they failed to dislodge the enemy altogether.
Overnight a column of enemy tanks and armoured vehicles issued forth out of Adony – but the scouts only spotted it when it approached north Perkata. Chunikhin had to redirect a part of the brigade to repulse this column. A bitter battle broke out in the darkness. Using recently-arrived reinforcements the enemy attacked the battered units of the 68th Rifle Division, forcing them from the western part of the village, trampling all over them and reaching a road leading to Dunapentle. The real threat of a strike against our flank and the rear of the brigade arose. The battle became more complicated and dangerous. Our tank battalion was fending enemy forces off in north Perkata, but the main bulk of our forces was involved in repulsing the tank attack from Adony. The 3rd Tank Battalion continued fighting inside the village, though part of its force and reserve was also grinding down the enemy attacking from north Perkata towards Dunapentle, thereby helping to cover the brigade’s flank and rear.
This fierce battle lasted through the night, in foul weather. The enemy fought desperately, with their tanks, infantry and armoured vehicles persistently attacking our positions. The white-painted enemy tanks blended in with the snowy terrain at night and were slowly crawling forward. Already four enemy tanks were burning in the snow, but our companies were really struggling to fend off the Germans. I had to give the German soldiers and officers their due – they were tough fighters and they gave us a great deal of trouble, inflicting heavy losses.
The combrig and the operations group came to the 3rd Tank Battalion’s assistance. En route he had chanced upon a German column of five tanks and four armoured vehicles. Under cover of darkness, he had turned aside, avoiding direct contact and letting the enemy column continue on its way. After arrival at Otroshenkov’s battalion he ordered a tank company to be sent in pursuit of the enemy and to wipe them out. Senior Lieutenant Vasadze quickly caught up with the enemy column, pounced on them from the rear and opened fire from close range. Confusion and panic followed, and the enemy failed to offer any significant resistance. They lost three tanks and two armoured vehicles in the mayhem, although the others managed to sneak away to Dunapentle. Vasadze’s company returned without loss, raising our spirits significantly – the threat of the enemy striking the brigade’s rear was also now eliminated.
The main battle lasted all night long. The tankers, blackened with soot and drained by fatigue, didn’t notice as the night slowly turned into day. Both sides fought furiously, incurring heavy losses. A cemetery of dead soldiers and burnt-out machines had formed in and around north Perkata. Thirteen enemy tanks, eleven armoured vehicles and twenty-six motor cars were left burning around the perimeter of the brigade’s defensive sector in the northern and eastern outskirts. In comparison, we lost nine tanks and six SPGs.
Having handed over to the 86th Rifle Division, the 170th Tank Brigade then reached the area of Rozsa–Kishgalom. Our battalion and a battery of SU-76s were ordered to sever and straddle the Dunapentle–Adony high road, but when we approached the road we encountered enemy opposition. Fighting broke out. The battalion destroyed the enemy in a bold attack; we captured a section of the road south of Talian and Radyga, and switched to defence. We lost two tanks during this action.
Meanwhile, the enemy were doing their best to prevent encirclement of their troops, who had come up against the Danube. They were running ‘active manoeuvring’ warfare, holding and improving their occupied positions. Having straddled the road, our 1st Tank Battalion was barely containing the enemy attacks from Dunapentle towards Adony. Major Novikov provided a tank battalion from the 181th Brigade to assist us and organized a perimeter defence.
During these days of acute stress, everything was mixed up in terms of the fighting – day and night, offensive and defensive actions. It became hard to understand where there were enemy troops, and where there were comrades. The scouts ran themselves into the ground reconnoitring the situation. Orders and battle instructions issued by the corps and brigade commanders were often unable to keep up with the pace of events, and the battalions often acted on their own initiative.
During the night of 30th January Colonel Chunikhin disengaged the battalions and led them towards Melkut. We attacked and captured Keni Venim almost straight away, then dislodged the enemy from Melkut and moved on to Kish Venim, which was defended by an infantry company, reinforced by two tanks and six armoured vehicles. Our battalion deployed and the tanks burst into the suburbs of the village; the enemy wavered and then retreated. Together with a company of tommy-gunners and a battery of SU-76s, we switched to a defensive role in Kreska, having cut the Adony–north Perkata road. The 3rd Battalion, with an infantry company on their armour and a battery of SU-76s, took up a defensive line 1 kilometre south-west of Hill 188, having also severed the Dunapentle–north Perkata road. The defensive line consisted of a number of strongpoints and ambush positions under the charge of Major Novikov. Captain Otroshenkov concentrated the main forces set back from the road and set up an ambush consisting of a platoon of SPGs, a tank and a platoon of tommy-gunners.
It was a still, cloudless winter night. The snow was sparkling under pale beams of moonlight. Lethargic with fatigue, even though uncomfortable, the tankmen and SPG crews were dozing off inside their machines; meanwhile, the tommy-gunners were suffering from the cold outside. Gradually the roar of engines and the rumbling of tracks started to resound from afar. Soon tanks and armoured vehicles, along with infantry and artillery, appeared on the high road as ghosts. They were carefully advancing from Dunapentle to north Perkata. Junior Lieutenant Kruglov’s tank was the first to open fire; more distant and weaker shots from Khudyakov’s and Chernovoy’s SPGs followed. Two enemy tanks and an armoured vehicle were ablaze immediately. The enemy column fell into disarray due to the suddenness of it all. However, realising that there was only a small force in front of them, the Germans quickly recovered from their confusion, deployed and attacked our ambush. In the ensuing mismatched fight Kruglov’s tank and both SPGs were destroyed, and the ambush ceased to exist. Having received a report about the ambush, Captain Otroshenkov put the battalion into battle readiness and met the battered enemy column strongly. Having lost five more tanks and twenty motor vehicles, the enemy withdrew, and the remnants of his forces retreated via field roads.
After this engagement the combrig was tasked with capturing the town of Adony, and in the morning of the 31st the brigade advanced. During the afternoon we encountered stiff resistance 5 kilometres south of Adony and the battalions consolidated at a suitable position. Vehicles with ammo and fuel arrived, and field kitchens were set up – the men had been chilled to the bone and were very happy to get some hot food.
The brigade HQ stationed itself in a nearby farmstead. The combrig decided: ‘Use gaps in the enemy defences to reach Adony under cover of night. The 3rd Tank Battalion is to advance along the Dunapentle–Adony road and attack the town from the south. The 1st Tank Battalion is to outflank Adony and attack it from the north-west. The attack is to commence at 5.00 a.m.’ Major Drozdov and Captain Kochelapov quickly compiled these instructions and sent them out to the battalions with communications officers.
Preparations for the latest offensive began. Our battalion was stationed in a grove of stunted trees, and Lesha Rybakov found a secluded, ramshackle hut there. The family of a poor farmhand lived in it. There was a single room, containing the living space, piggery, kitchen and a sleeping area behind a curtain, where a scared, old and very corpulent wife was hiding. For some reason she was nicknamed ‘Auntie Yelia’ straight away. We asked her to have dinner with us but she refused, remaining sitting in her shelter. After a frosty day, well-fed and exhausted, we grew drowsy and could hardly keep our eyes open. Lesha Rybakov immediately fell asleep – he was astonishingly good at conking out, though just as quickly he could be wide awake again. Klaustin and I were also drowsy but Captain Klimov, having finished writing his political report, stood up, put on his coat and said: ‘I’ll go out and check how well the men have settled in for the night and check on the guard posts. You have a sleep – we have a difficult battle waiting for us in the morning.’ That was Klimov through and through – a caring, cordial man who selflessly lived for his men.
The lull turned out to be short. A motorbike rattled by the window and one of the brigade communications officers, Serezha Saltykov, burst into the hut, accompanied by a great deal of noise and snow. He threw a packet on the table with a flourish: ‘Read your orders, combat, and hurry up!’ Rybakov swept the food leftovers from the table and unfolded a map; the combat opened up the packet and read the order out loud.
‘Is there anything to report back to the combrig?’ Saltykov asked, obviously in a hurry.
‘Nothing. The task is clear,’ Klaustin replied.
‘Adieu!’ Saltykov disappeared as noisily as he had arrived.
Reading through the task, the combat realized that reaching the northwest outskirts of Adony on schedule at night across the roadless terrain would be the most complicated part. It would be important not to stray off course, which meant that a good guide would be needed. Rybakov was selected for the task but he suddenly started protesting: ‘Why me again? Is the company commander incapable of leading his tanks to the spot himself?’
‘Lesha, he can, but now we can’t take chances. Smolyakov is a reasonable officer, but we don’t know him that well, and you’ve driven down roads night and day from Stalingrad itself. You’re good at navigating by map and in the field – just help him out,’ Klaustin said, and carried on trying to convince Rybakov, who was still protesting.
The debate was quickly resolved by Commissar Klimov: ‘Lesha, calm down, I will be with you.’ Such was this man’s amazing ability to sort out an issue with one word or a simple sentence, to relieve the tension and eliminate doubts, and to instil confidence.
Smolyakov’s reinforced company, together with Klimov and Rybakov, disappeared into the darkness, setting off on its hard march. A biting cold wind caused drifting snow, and the moon hid behind the low-hanging clouds. The tanks moved across the roadless terrain slowly, by touch, doing their best to stick to the right course; the combat with his staff and reserve followed them, verifying the route on the map as they went.
Waking up the following morning, I heard some commotion and moaning from behind the curtain where Auntie Yelia had been sleeping. One of our tank commanders was a bloke called Alexashyn – a brawny, shortish fellow. Some time later, after we had captured Adony, I asked him: ‘What did you do to her back there? She’s so ugly!’
‘Oh no, she’s quite all right at night!’ he replied, and we all laughed heartily.
The Germans obviously thought that we would be unlikely to attack in such bad weather during the night, and so they were out for the count. In the early morning of 1 February the battalions reached Adony and were ready for the offensive. It was quiet in the town – only cockerels were crowing and dogs were barking. Flares were fired up into the air from time to time. The commander and the brigade staff, following the 3rd Battalion along the Dunapentle–Adony road, received the news that the battalions had reached the indicated positions and were ready to attack, which cheered the combrig up. The scouts also reported: ‘The garrison is small, not many tanks in there and it looks like the Germans don’t expect us.’
At 5.00 a.m. the anti-aircraft regiment attached to the brigade opened fire at ground targets, and the brigade started the attack. The Germans were shocked, and hundreds of flares soared into the air. Heavy street-fighting broke out. Night warfare is always difficult and complicated, especially in an urban environment. The enemy concentrated their main forces in the southern area of the town. The 3rd Battalion, accompanied by tommy-gunners, encountered a well-prepared defence line of fire emplacements almost immediately and progress slowed. Advancing along one of the roads, Vasadze’s company found itself under a formidable crossfire. Two tanks were hit, one straight after the other, and suddenly there were only five operational machines in the company. However, to the left Senior Lieutenant Mokhov’s company was also attacking. The enemy’s defences were weaker at that point and the company successfully broke through into the town and became engaged in street-fighting. Moving through the narrow streets, the tankers were progressing through the south-west suburbs of Adony.
Our battalion was advancing even more successfully. Our appearance in the north-west of the town was a nasty surprise for the enemy. The battalion deployed and attacked rapidly, and by dawn we were approaching the centre of the town. This clinched the outcome of the whole engagement: the enemy faltered and then retreated along a road heading north-west out of the town. We failed to block their path of retreat, but Adony was captured and the combrig received orders to organize a defensive position. Tanks and SPGs were set up in position and the tommy-gunners were spread along the defence line. The streets of the town were now quiet and deserted – the locals had hid in their houses and wouldn’t come outside. The brigade and battalion commanders checked the battle lines and then allowed the crews and tommy-gunners to rest, having set up outposts.
In the second half of the day two teenagers – children of the owner – came running into the house where our HQ was set up. They told us that they had seen a large column of tanks with infantry moving out of woods north-west of Adony. Klaustin wouldn’t believe the boys straight away, but suddenly the thunder of shooting confirmed their words. The brigade and battalion scouts had overlooked this tank concentration and advance, and the German counter-attack had caught the battalions with their pants down. The crews had to jump into their tanks while under fire and engage in combat without delay. The town awoke – there was shooting coming from every direction. There were Germans and Magyars who had hidden in the local houses and garrets – they started firing at us as well to try to help their counter-attacking tankmen.
Throwing on clothes on the run we leapt out of the house and barely managed to get to the combat’s tank – making short dashes, dropping flat and then jumping up and running again. Klaustin and Rybakov managed to sneak into their tanks. Klimov, the partorg63 and I stood nearby, next to a shack, trying to understand from which direction the enemy was shooting. I was dressed in an English-made trench coat without shoulder badges, while the zampolit – an old tanker – always wore a leather jacket and his old tankman’s hat. This must have been the reason why a sniper targetted him – I saw a tracer bullet and the next instant the commissar was hit in the belly, the bullet tearing a sizeable hole in his back as it exited his body. Klimov gasped and fell over. Sidolako and I picked him up with difficulty and laid him down on the tank’s transmission. The wounded man was conscious and said through clenched teeth: ‘Bad . . . all burning inside . . . painful . . .’ Then he added: ‘Looks like this is it. I ask one thing – I have two sons – find them and help them.’ I have to admit that we didn’t have his address, and after the war we – scumbags that we were – didn’t even bother searching for his address in the brigade archives to at least write a letter to his sons. I know that this does not cast honour on us at all.
The commissar lost consciousness. Kolesnichenko dressed his wound with a tight bandage, which soaked up with blood immediately. I was standing above the commissar’s body on the transmission compartment and didn’t notice as the gunlayer began to swing the gun backwards to return fire while retreating. In order to avoid being hit, I caught hold of the gun barrel and hung from it, dangling above the ground – I remember being afraid of letting go and being run over by the tank. The other guys began to bang on the turret and the machine stopped – the crew inside realized the situation, swung the gun back and I found myself on the transmission compartment again.
Meanwhile, the battalion was in a critical situation: the enemy had broken through the defence line and was advancing towards the town centre. Returning fire, we were retreating. Otroshenkov’s battalion joined the battle, providing cover for our retreat, but they could not stop the enemy advance either. By the evening the brigade had left Adony and we were deployed in a forest south of the town. We counted our losses: two tanks and three SPGs. We buried the dead and sent the wounded men back to the rear.
After the arrival of the 110th Tank Brigade we managed to dislodge the Germans from the town and took up a defensive position there. The remnants of the enemy force retreated north-westwards towards Besnyo. During the battle of Adony the brigade had lost a total of eight tanks and four SU-76 SPGs. Having learnt a bitter lesson, the brigade HQ organized more active reconnaissance to the north and north-west, and the combrig ordered the tommy-gunners’ combat, Captain Yakovlev, to raid the area that the brigade had originally been defending. Carrying out the order, the tommy-gunners came across a horrific scene in the northwest suburbs: Senior Lieutenant Pisarev’s tank lay deserted in a side street, riddled with holes and burnt out. Nearby there was a destroyed Tiger tank, and a bit further away a smashed anti-tank gun. In a nearby shack they found Pisarev’s body, showing signs that he had obviously been tortured to death.
On 2 February the brigade set about improving the defences in the town and repairing the damaged machines. The rest of the time was spent burying our dead comrades. The 3rd Battalion handed over their remaining tanks to us and they were transferred to the reserve. Senior Lieutenant Dmitriy Denisovich Yurov – the partorg of the services battalion of the Academy of Armoured and Mechanized Forces64 – arrived to take over the zampolit’s position.
At the end of the day the brigade was ordered to follow the 110th Tank Brigade. We set off on the march at night, and by morning reached a road intersection 1.5 kilometres north of Solgathaz, where we set up a defence line. For about two days the brigade stayed there, wiping out small retreating or roaming enemy units. We left on the 4th and travelled to the western outskirts of Sarosd, where the combrig was ordered to advance towards Detritz and capture the town of Aba by a strike from the northeast. Having secured infantry and artillery support, on 5 February the brigade advanced. The enemy rendered resistance at some of the defence lines, and during our approach to Detritz the Germans opened intense tank and artillery fire, but Klaustin successfully led his battalion forward in a confident attack and we captured Detritz without much more trouble: the enemy rolled back to Aba, having lost a tank, two guns and several dozen infantrymen. Pursuing the retreating enemy, our battalion succeeded in taking this next town by the end of the day.
Our brigade and infantry forces were running low. There were less than 100 active fighters in each of the infantry regiments, and very few operational tanks. Despite this, on the morning of 6 February the brigade advanced towards Felso–Szentihvan in cooperation with the depleted units of the 200th Rifle Regiment of the 68th Rifle Division. Our numerous attacks against this strongpoint were unsuccessful, however. Incurring heavy losses, the infantry dropped to the ground and got no further; the tanks also halted and one of the SU-76s was destroyed. We had to abandon the idea of advancing in that direction.
The combrig ordered the commander of the 2nd Tank Battalion to hand over the remaining four SU-76s to the 1st Battalion and transferred it to the reserve. Our battalion now numbered six tanks and four SU-76s, and that night three more tanks returned from repairs. Captain Klaustin fell sick, and the combrig ordered me to transfer under the command of the 200th Rifle Regiment and to advance towards Felso–Bodajkator on the 7th with the regiment.
Approaching Felso we encountered enemy fire: the infantry entrenched and the tanks took cover while the regiment commander – a young, tall and slender major – sent forward his scouts. Soon they reported back that an infantry regiment, reinforced by fifteen tanks, had occupied Bodajkator station and were positioned in a grove half a kilometre south-west of Felso–Szentihvan. There were also six artillery batteries on their defence line, which itself already had a well-developed system of engineering installations. It was clear that it would be impossible to break through this defence line with our available forces. Thinking this over for some time, the commander yelled: ‘That’s it! The advance is over. Everyone is to entrench, consolidate their positions and be ready to repulse possible enemy attacks.’
The HQ and the commander lodged in Felso station, and the major requested me to join him there. His orderly quickly set up a table, and the major extended his hospitality: we had a shot of vodka and chased it down with some cold pig fat. The regiment Chief-of-Staff unfolded a map on the table and plotted out the situation. The commander lay down on a trestle bed, ordering the signallers around. Soon communications were set up, and the major reported the situation to the comdiv, explaining that it wouldn’t be feasible to advance with the available force. In response he got a torrent of swear words. The commander moved the receiver away from his head, letting everyone hear the general’s colourful language. Having finished his rant, the comdiv ordered: ‘Attack immediately, destroy the enemy and continue the offensive. Report back when you have doen it.’
‘Yes, sir!’ the major replied meekly, but agitated. He stood pensive for a while, waved his hands around then dropped on the trestle bed again, trying to calm down.
‘Your orders?’ the Chief-of-Staff asked.
‘None! Sit down and entertain yourself,’ the major muttered angrily.
I sat there aghast: the commander had received an order to attack but simply lay there and gave no instructions. Unable to contain myself any longer I went up to the commander and asked: ‘Comrade major, I ask your permission to get the tanks ready for attack.’
‘And you wanna die too,’ the major said sarcastically. ‘I told you my orders – carry them out!’ After a short pause he carried on. ‘Listen, captain, how many tanks do you have? Ten, with the SPGs, and the enemy has fifteen and what kind of tanks? Tigers and Panthers, plus up to thirty guns and an infantry regiment in defence. And I’ve got only eighty-six fighters and two 45-mm guns. Yet we’re ordered to attack?!’ he finished off bitterly. Silent for a while, he suggested more congenially: ‘It doesn’t matter, captain – we’ll get out of this scrape. Those whom God helps, nobody can harm.’
An hour later the telephone rang. The commander picked up the receiver.
‘I’m listening . . . that’s right. The infantry is ready for action, the tanks have taken up position on the starting lines, and we’re going to attack in a few minutes. All right . . . I’ll report back.’
Those stood nearby were watching him with apprehension, aware that he was playing with fire, but the major just dropped back down on his bed again. Roughly twenty minutes later he called up the comdiv again and reported: ‘Comrade general! The infantry is attacking, supported by the tanks. The enemy is offering fierce resistance and firing intensely from a grove situated half a kilometre south-west of Felso–Szentihvan station.’
‘That is great – attack more strongly, intensify the onslaught with more spirit. Keep reporting!’
‘I will do!’
An hour later the major reported again: ‘Comrade general! The regiment has come up against the line south-west of Bodajkator station, the grove is to the south-west. I’ve come across stubborn resistance. The infantry is flat on the ground and is engaged in a running battle.’
Dissatisfied with this ‘turn of events’, the general ordered: ‘Hold out, major! Regroup and keep advancing. I will come to your position.’
‘That’s not possible, comrade general! The enemy’s shelling is horrific. All the roads and terrain between us and you are visible to them and exposed to fire.’
‘Well, act more resolutely!’
‘Yes, sir!’ the commander said, sighing with relief.
After another forty minutes he reported again: ‘Comrade general! The enemy infantry regiment, supported by fifteen tanks, is counterattacking. The regiment has pulled back to the starting line, returning fire as they go. We’re beating the enemy off with great difficulty.’
At this point the general yelled: ‘You useless bastards! I am taking over – I will sort this out when I get there!’
The major was now clearly worried and immediately ordered the infantry and the tanks to prepare for attack. Soon the general rolled up in his Willys in an unbuttoned trench coat and with his astrakhan cocked. Without hesitation, he asked venomously: ‘Where are your shell holes and where is the barrage?’
‘All around you,’ the major said, waving at the countryside.
As if on cue, the enemy artillery started firing. Huge explosions began to shake the ground, forcing the general into a trench.
‘Stop fooling around and pulling my leg! Order the regiment forward!’ the comdiv shouted.
‘Yes, sir!’ the commander replied humbly and issued the signal to attack.
The infantry stood up. The thin line of men, led by the battery, company and platoon commanders, attacked with a barely audible ‘Hurray’. The tanks rushed towards the grove, overtaking the infantry. Having let the attackers approach, the enemy artillery, tanks and infantry opened fire at point-blank range.
At that point the stern general realized the might of the enemy force. Having jumped into a trench vacated by the infantrymen, he stuck his head out from time to time to observe the attack. Failing to reach the enemy defence line and suffering heavy losses, the infantry dropped flat to the ground. The tanks and the SPGs ground to a halt. The lead tank caught fire, and the crew perished. Two SPGs were ablaze as well. The attack had now seriously stalled. The tommy-gunners began to retreat, dragging their wounded comrades on groundsheets where they could. The rifle regiment incurred heavy losses. The young major stood petrified, deathly pale, seeing the remnants of the regiment that was so dear to his heart dying due to the stupidity of the comdiv. I was aware that he had been risking his life by deceiving the general to save his men, knowing the likely outcome of the battle.
Only fortune saved the rest of the regiment and the tank battalion from total annihilation. Had the enemy counter-attacked, even the ardent comdiv would have been in danger. But the enemy was not that strong any more: they were obviously exhausted and avoided active combat. Without waiting for the full retreat of the regiment, the general climbed out of the trench, climbed back into the Willys, and sped away, not even saying goodbye to the commander.
‘That’s the way things are, captain,’ said the major bitterly, watching the comdiv disappear. ‘I wanted to save the men. It hasn’t worked out that way.’
Darkness fell and hid the horror and disgrace of the attack, which had occurred simply because of the whim of a petty tyrant. Losses were counted at night, the dead were brought back and buried, and the wounded men were sent to hospital. The commander ordered that dinner be served. Simple snacks were put on the table; we raised our mugs with vodka in them and the major said tonelessly and with great pain in his heart: ‘For those who fell guiltlessly and infamously. And may they stay on the conscience of the one who wouldn’t heed the voice of wisdom, sending them to their inevitable and useless deaths!’ Everyone drank silently.
During the morning of 9 February the Brigade was ordered to hand its defence sector over to the 68th Rifle Division and to deploy to the area of Csongrad, where we stayed for a couple of days. The men put their machines and themselves back into some kind of order; five more tanks also came back from repairs. The combrig summarized the combat activities to date at a meeting of the staff officers, combats and their deputies, paying special attention to the losses, which were high: twenty-seven tanks and ten SPGs destroyed. The enemy fatalities were similar.