The Eye of the Needle
28 APRIL 1945
According to Soviet sources, the fighting on 28 April began with an attack along a five-kilometre front by a divisional-sized battlegroup supported by 20 tanks. This occurred in the Löpten–Teurow sector astride Halbe on the inter-front boundary between 40th Rifle Corps of 3rd Army and 21st Rifle Corps of 3rd Guards Army. The battle raged for hours, but ferocious close-quarter fighting and heavy covering fire failed to secure a decisive breach for the Germans. There was no question of a breakthrough to the autobahn. The German forces, commanded by SS-General Kleinheisterkamp, came from the remains of 712th Infantry Division of XI SS Panzer Corps, 286th Infantry Division of V SS Mountain Corps, and 275th and 342nd Infantry and 35th SS Police Divisions of V Corps, plus a number of independent units. Unfortunately for Kleinheisterkamp’s plan, 32nd SS Division had come under increased Soviet pressure and had been unable to disengage from the perimeter to reinforce the breach as had been intended. Consequently, the units on the northern perimeter were also forced to hold on. It is possible that some small groups managed to break out of the encirclement, but the majority were thrown back with heavy losses.1
Corporal Harry Zvi Glaser, a Lithuanian-born Jew, had been forced out of his country by the German invasion of 1941 and enlisted in the Red Army as soon as he was old enough in 1944. Now leading a rifle section in 2nd Battalion of 438th Rifle Regiment, 129th Orel Rifle Division of 3rd Army, he wrote of his experience at Halbe:
On 28 April our unit was ordered to pull out of Berlin and make a forced march overnight down the 35 kilometres of autobahn to Halbe. At dawn I deployed my section on the eastern edge of the village overlooking a vast neglected pasture, and a Maxim machine gun was brought up to reinforce us, which I placed on our right flank. After I had briefed my men, I went off to check the farmhouse behind us. I found some frightened civilians in the cellar and told them in German: ‘Stay indoors, don’t leave the house under any circumstances until you get fresh instructions!’
‘Ja, jawohl, Herr Offizier!’ came the reply. I spotted some cans of meat on a shelf. ‘Please take them!’ said an old man, the only male in the family, so I took two cans to feed my hungry men and went back to the trenches, having to step over the bodies of several dead German soldiers.
The pasture in front of us remained empty until suddenly a woman appeared with a baby in her arms running across the field towards the village and just as suddenly disappeared again. Then I was summoned to battalion headquarters.
The battalion commander and his staff were on the south side of the street dividing Halbe in two and were looking south across the pasture to the woods, where white flags were waving among the trees. The battalion commander turned to me and said: ‘Corporal, you speak German, don’t you? You see the white flags? It’s less than a kilometre. If you want to earn the “Red Banner”,2 go and clarify the situation and bring back some delegates for their surrender with you.’
I started across the pasture but had gone only about 200 metres when the flags disappeared and several gunshots sounded from the woods. There was no one to be seen, and my battalion commander and his staff had also disappeared, so I returned to my section.
Then a runner appeared: ‘German tanks are moving towards the village with infantry following them!’ The pasture immediately became alive with attacking German infantry. We held our fire until 200 metres then started mowing them down, forcing them to retreat. But it was bad behind us, where the German tanks were rolling forward with machine guns firing from their turrets and followed by infantry assault teams. The supporting 45-mm gun sited on the pavement was unable to stop them and was hit by a shell from a Tiger that wrecked it and killed the crew. We were taking casualties and tried to withdraw but were pinned down until dusk, which came suddenly and enabled us to crawl out of Halbe with our wounded. The battalion commander had been killed and the whole battalion was in retreat.3
An SS-sergeant-major of the 32nd SS Motorized Signals Battalion reported:
At 0200 hours on 28 April our unit ceased to exist. We were split up into infantry combat teams. Our team was led by the unit administrative officer, our commander having already said his goodbyes and wished us good luck in the break-out. During the break-out attempt we were separated and I only had my runner with me. It was chaotic.
I had never been so astonished during the whole of the war as I was that morning of 28 April. What I saw in the column left me speechless, changing to blind rage, anger and aggressiveness. There were officers and their drivers sleeping peacefully in their vehicles with their legs over the folded-down windscreens. Others were eating breakfast with appetite, even small fires could be seen for heating coffee. A peacetime scene, while several hundred metres away death was reaping a rich harvest. While mini combat teams were trying to effect a breakthrough, thousands of men here of all ranks from the Army, Waffen-SS, Luftwaffe and Flak were lying around and waiting for the others to smash through the encirclement so that they could drive out in peace and quiet. No officer made any attempt to form a combat team out of this lot. A flak captain was having a shave by his vehicle with his field tunic hanging neatly from a coathanger on the vehicle. A large number of these ‘comrades’ had to pay for this attitude with their lives or long years of imprisonment under the Soviets … it was just a leaderless horde.4
The troops began to desert, flee and panic. Command and control were lost and many soldiers decided to strike out on their own. That morning 9th Army lost some 3,000 prisoners, 15 tanks and over 60 guns, and an unknown number of dead and wounded.
Once more the 1st Guards Artillery Breakthrough Division, with its 300 guns deployed south of Halbe, played a decisive role in the Soviet success. There was no way for the encircled troops to match this mass of artillery, as an inhabitant of Teupitz recalled:
I had experienced the bombardments in Champagne during the First World War, taken part in the Battle of the Somme and been in the bitter ring at Verdun, but what occurred in the Halbe cauldron during these days put all that I had seen before into the shade. With clockwork precision, all day long until dusk one bomber squadron after another brought its deadly loads to the big woods around Halbe, Teupitz and Märkisch Buchholz and dropped them on the fully congested country roads. Without a pause the rockets hissed in and the guns hammered at the makeshift positions the German troops had dug.5
That morning, in accordance with orders issued by Marshal Koniev the night before, 3rd Guards Tank Army in Berlin launched a concerted attack on the extreme right wing of its area of operations in Schöneberg with the aim of crossing the Landwehr Canal by nightfall. The main attack got under way as planned and it was not until sometime later in the morning that it was suddenly realised that virtually the whole of the eastern half of their proposed line of advance was already occupied by Chuikov’s troops, for whom the weight of Koniev’s artillery preparations could hardly have been welcome. The emotions that this event raised can well be imagined.6
Koniev, however, barely mentioned this incident in his memoirs:
Meanwhile, during the morning, Chuikov’s 8th Guards Army, Rybalko’s neighbour on the right, resolutely advanced west, all the way to the southern bank of the Landwehr Canal, and reached the Anhalter Railway Terminal, Lützowplatz and the intersection of Plauener Strasse and Maassenstrasse.
In view of the rapid westward advance of Chuikov’s troops and in order to prevent Rybalko’s 9th Mechanized Corps from getting mixed up with Chuikov’s 8th Guards Army, I ordered Rybalko that, after he had reached the Landwehr Canal, he should turn his most advanced units west and continue his advance in the zone of operations newly established by that time for the 1st Ukrainian Front.7
One assumes that General Chuikov’s thrust westwards across the inter-front boundary could only have been effected with Marshal Zhukov’s connivance, and there was no way that 3rd Guards Tank Army was going to be allowed to close up to the Landwehr Canal. However, at midnight Moscow time GHQ issued orders for a new inter-front boundary, which diverted 3rd Guards Tank Army in a north-westerly direction, well away from the city centre.
With his Berlin ambitions thus thwarted, Koniev left General Rybalko to complete 1st Ukrainian Front’s role in the city as best he might. Koniev had taken a tremendous gamble in concentrating all his available resources in a single powerful thrust on the Reichstag, but had been defeated by factors arising out of the rivalry between himself and Marshal Zhukov – which had been skilfully exploited by Stalin without regard for the military implications.8
The Halbe pocket had now been reduced to a sixth of its original size, the steadily growing threat by the four Soviet armies surrounding them giving the encircled concentration of troops and refugees no peace. Constant fighting was taking place on the perimeter while bombers and ground-attack aircraft struck from above whenever the weather allowed, and the fire from artillery, mortars and rockets continued to take a steady toll.
From Prieros, now the northernmost tip of the pocket, the company-sized combat team of 1st Battalion, 86th SS Regiment Schill, conducted an unsuccessful counterattack against the Soviets occupying Kolberg, but was able to hold its ground on the necks of land between the lakes in that area. Its left-hand neighbour, the combat team of 87th SS Regiment Kurmark, covering the line Neubrück–Prieros, was decimated by an attack, backed by aerial bombardment, by Soviet armour coming from Klein Köris. Behind it along the line Schwerin–Hammer–Hermsdorf–Gross Eichholz were combat teams formed from elements of Panzergrenadier Division Kurmark and 32nd SS Field Training and Replacement Battalion of 32nd SS Division under the overall command of SS-Colonel Kempin of the latter formation.9 They were attacked by Soviet forces and Seydlitz-Troops.
SS-Lieutenant Bärmann, who was wounded in the attack, gave an account of this engagement:
Shortly before midday on 28 April we reached the place that we had been ordered to, about three kilometres north-west of Hermsdorf. SS-Sergeant Althaus took up a defensive position with his recovery tank armed with twin machine guns, and soon afterwards the Russians attacked out of the woods from the north-east. While Althaus and other combat capable men of the battalion conducted the defence, some comrades threw me into a Volkswagen jeep and drove deeper into the woods. Most of the vehicles were damaged in the fighting and had to be left behind. A rocket launcher unit fired without pause and gave us some space.
We were then ordered to regroup at the Hammer forestry office …
Low cloud kept the Russian aircraft off us, although some individual, unaimed bombs fell that could not fail to find victims in the closely packed pocket. According to the staff, the pocket now measured three by five kilometres and contained about 30,000 troops and 10,000–15,000 civilians, men women and children.10
The Hammer forestry office area was covered by a combat team from Panzergrenadier Division Kurmark that afternoon. On the eastern and southern parts of the perimeter, where the terrain prevented the use of armour, penetrations by Soviet infantry often split the defence, creating small pockets that were inevitably reduced in due course.
For the encircled, the situation in the pocket became ever more chaotic with constant movement, lack of sleep, scarcely enough to eat, contaminated drinking water, unbelievably high casualties and inadequate attention and facilities for the wounded. The 9th Army had no choice but to act or go under. There was now only sufficient ammunition left for another two days and there was absolutely no hope of resupply by air. Although a few of the soldiers were prepared to surrender, the majority were strongly against it. Leaflets, loudspeakers and attempts at negotiation under flags of truce and by civilians organized by the Soviets yielded no significant results.
General Busse belatedly realized that 9th Army had been betrayed and sent a radio message with the content: ‘It seems that the 9th Army is already written off.’11 Kleinheisterkamp’s independent break-out attempt of that morning must also have come as a form of betrayal to him, but at last seems to have spurred him into taking action himself. However, when one examines his actions, the tardy transfer of his headquarters into the Spreewald indicates an indecisiveness and reluctance to assume responsibility for the break-out to the west, even though he had Hitler’s authority and orders to do so. By the time he reached Hammer on 26 April, the congestion in the area was such that he had little chance of exercising effective control over his subordinates. He had failed to support Battlegroup von Luck’s attempt on 25 April. This, and the apparently independent attempts by subordinate formations stemming from pressure from below, had cost him dearly in armour and fighting troops, severely weakening his chances of a successful mass penetration of the Soviet forces facing him. And then, as we shall see, he placed himself and his headquarters staff immediately behind the strongest armoured spearhead for 9th Army’s break-out, in which his exercise of control became purely local as contact was lost with other units, and the rearguard was abandoned to its fate.
The 9th Army’s very last conference took place at 1500 hours that afternoon, when all available generals and divisional commanders met in a sandpit close to the forestry office at Hammer on Reichsstrasse 179. Following an appraisal of the situation, the decision was made to risk a last break-out attempt and break through to 12th Army. Contact had been lost with the commanders of V Corps and V SS Mountain Corps, so what remained of XI SS Panzer Corps would have to take the lead. The plan was for them to break out to the west in three groups that evening. Those tanks still remaining would pave the way, and General Busse would go with them.
The desperate situation in which the encircled troops found themselves left little choice of action. The officers present at General Busse’s conference were unanimous that the break-out should take place immediately, and that it could only be achieved with the concentrated action of the remaining armoured forces and the whole of the available artillery. There was little enough left; in essence only the reduced Kurmark Division, 502nd SS Heavy Panzer Battalion and the few remaining guns and mortars. No participant at the conference could identify any worthwhile break-out route other than through Halbe, which was known to be occupied by strong Soviet units. This almost unknown village would become the eye of the needle through which everyone would have to pass. It was not difficult for the Soviet commanders to work out where the next attack would come, as the German preparations could hardly be concealed from aerial observation, so any possibility of surprise could be ruled out.
There was no information about the Soviet forces. The 9th Army no longer had any facilities for aerial reconnaissance, so knew nothing of what lay outside its perimeter. No one knew anything about the Russian positions, the organization or strength of the opposing troops, nor of the possibility of counterattacks in the depths of the 60-kilometre stretch of wooded country, bounded by the lakes around Zossen and Teupitz in the north and the Hammerfliess stream in the south, through which the already exhausted troops would have to march. It could take days for them to reach 12th Army’s positions near Beelitz.
Meanwhile command and control within the pocket had virtually collapsed. Even the basic military requirement of reliable communications for the conduct of the forthcoming action was lacking. There was now only sporadic radio communication with Army Group Weichsel, and Headquarters 9th Army had only occasional contact with its subordinate formations, none of which was able to establish a stable network. Finally, the lack of maps made it difficult to command the troops in action.
The planning and execution of the breakthrough demanded immediate decisions that had to be made almost blind, contrary to all operational experience. The orders were thus kept correspondingly brief and went directly to the commander of XI SS Panzer Corps: ‘XI SS Panzer Corps will strike the breakthrough breaches. 1800 hours assemble for break-out.’
At this point the command post of this corps was at the Klein Hammer forest warden’s lodge near Hermsdorf. In order to fulfil the task allotted him, SS-General Kleinheisterkamp summoned those of his subordinate commanders who could be contacted to his command post. He decided that the spearhead would be formed by the remains of the Kurmark Division and the 502nd SS Heavy Panzer Battalion, split into two wedges. The more northerly one would consist of the remaining Panther tanks of the Kurmark’s Panzer Regiment Brandenburg, now down to less than battalion strength, and other elements of the division. Behind the 502nd in the southern wedge would come HQ 9th Army, HQ XI SS Panzer Corps and HQ Panzergrenadier Division Kurmark. The remaining forces still under command would then follow on behind. What remained of 21st Panzer Division would cover the breakthrough from the north-west, with the remnants of 32nd SS Panzergrenadier Division 30. Januar guarding the east. This formation would provide the rearguard under the divisional chief engineer, SS-Major May, with orders to disengage from the enemy at 0500 hours on 29 April.12
As SS-Lieutenant Bärmann of the 32nd SS Tank-Hunting Battalion recorded:
The order to break out came towards evening. The remains of the 32nd SS Tank-Hunting Battalion were to form the rearguard. As our guns could only fire forwards, that meant us driving backwards for over 60 kilometres.13
SS-Colonel Hans Kempin, commander of the 32nd SS Division, also described the position:
My last contact with General Busse was by radio, during which he informed me that he was trying to find a gap in the encirclement near Potsdam through which he could take headquarters 9th Army out of the pocket. He instructed me to take over command of the individual reachable units as a rearguard and to decide myself whether to break out to Berlin or towards the Elbe [12th Army]. On receipt of these orders, I saw myself having to stop the last counterattack by [omission in original] and his battalion, disengage and arrange the handover of the main dressing station with about 2,000 wounded to the Russians …
When I and my staff reached a clearing in the woods before Halbe, I found several thousand soldiers there who had given up, lots of burnt-out tanks, buses, trucks and so on. The general view was that going any further was impossible. I therefore had another row with Jeckeln, the then commanding general of V [SS Mountain] Corps.
I ordered the commander of my headquarters’ security company, Fahland, to stay there and went on with my staff to Halbe during an air raid, and got through. There was no one to be seen, but plenty of corpses. Braun then went back to fetch the company. From your description, I take it that we had come from the Hammer forestry office.
I can still recall a shot-up truck behind Halbe that must have been carrying pay, for the notes were lying around on the ground and no one had seen to them.14
Artillery Regiment Kurmark and the remaining heavy weapons were ordered to fire a barrage on Halbe with the last of their ammunition at 1800 hours. After that their equipment was to be destroyed. All units were to take only the most essential vehicles, all the remainder having to be destroyed after their fuel tanks had been emptied for the use of the armour.
The materiel strength of these spearheads was relatively weak. The 502nd SS Heavy Panzer Battalion had probably only 14 of its formidable Tiger II (Königstiger) tanks left.15 The fighting troops available for the spearheads were also greatly outnumbered by those unprepared to fight who were following them, as tens of thousands of armed and unarmed soldiers, civilians, wounded and sick pressed hard on their heels. For most of the refugees opting to break out with the troops, although they must have realised how slim their chances of survival were, the conditions and prospects were now so bad that the break-out, however slender a chance it offered of getting safely across the Elbe, presented a worthwhile gamble. This time Busse did not try to stop them. Fortunately, the weather was bad that day, low-hanging clouds continuing to prevent Soviet aircraft from attacking the German concentrations with any precision.16
The 9th Army’s remaining artillery, firing from positions east of Halbe, opened fire as planned at 1800 hours on targets in and around the village. Once the ammunition had been used up, the guns and mortars were destroyed as ordered, and the gunners then joined in the break-out as infantry.
Grenadier Tag of the 2nd Company of Panzergrenadier Division Kurmark’s APC battalion was in the thick of it:
We had to keep open a woodland track that the Russians kept under threat by worming their way forward. Towards evening we received the order to mount up and move off. Our company still had at least six APCs and some troop transporters which were packed full. After a few hundred metres we came under infantry and anti-tank gunfire from the left. With the help of some tanks, these enemy positions were overcome and we moved on.
As night began to fall our column turned on to a track leading to Halbe. Once more we came under short-range anti-tank gunfire. Jumping off and engaging came automatically. I stuck a hand grenade down the barrel of an abandoned anti-tank gun and moved away. As a protection against ambush, we then advanced on either side of the woodland track with our vehicles following at some distance behind.17
However, the southern wedge was unable to take advantage of the brief artillery preparation, the vast numbers of disorganized troops delaying the departure until 1830 hours, by which time the Soviets were ready for them. It was only then that the tanks and SPGs moved off with their escorting infantry along the roads leading to Halbe, followed by the other vehicles, such as tank-hunters, APCs, trucks, cars and ambulances. On either side of the road and between the vehicles moved soldiers, Volkssturm men and civilians, the flotsam and jetsam of this closing war.
At first this human flood was able to approach the town without hindrance but, as the spearhead reached the outskirts of the town at dusk, it came under heavy fire. After a short exchange, the tanks rolled into the village at about 2100 hours. It soon became apparent that the artillery preparation had failed to reduce the fighting capacity of the Soviet units there to any significant extent, and casualties began mounting rapidly.
Beyond the junction of the road to Teupitz, near the village church, the leading tank came up against a barrier, originally erected against Soviet tanks, that consisted of two rows of pine logs rammed into the earth with the space in between filled with sand. This barrier extended right across the road, forming a formidable obstacle to further progress. The pressure from behind immediately formed a blockage at this point. A witness, the driver of one of the leading tanks, described what happened next:
At once, all broke loose! Shells were exploding all around, not only high explosive, but phosphor shells too. It seemed that the Russians had long since identified 9th Army’s break-out point through air reconnaissance and prepared a trap for us in Halbe. All the buildings around us were hit and caught fire, illuminating the scene in ghostly fashion. I then spotted two Russian tanks behind the anti-tank barrier. The Russian fire was becoming increasingly strong and driving over the barricade looked suicidal to me.18
The Soviet fire hindered every manoeuvre, and the two leading tanks were lost, as will be described shortly. Eventually the tanks managed to bypass Halbe and reached the autobahn at daybreak.
The town itself, into which ever more people and vehicles were pushing, was surrounded on three sides and had the fire of 1st Guards Artillery Breakthrough Division directed on it. A massive barrage using five artillery brigades had been planned against this breakthrough sector, starting with a five-minute all-out bombardment and going on to ten minutes of methodical fire, for which the firing of 1,000 shells per minute had been planned.19
A second anti-tank barrier, several hundred metres beyond the church on the road to Teurow, blocked the progress of another group for hours. This road, which had been shot up by German rocket launchers, presented the same horrific picture as the other breakthrough sectors with the dead lying on top of each other, people crushed to death by the tanks, and wounded crying out for help. There was no differentiation between civilians and soldiers in this mêlée.20
In and around Halbe, the various groups, no longer under proper control, sought to break through the Soviet positions and reach the shelter of the woods. Many units tried to bypass Halbe rather than go through it. SS-Captain Paul Krauss of 32nd SS Tank-Hunting Battalion was with the remains of his unit in the woods north-east of the village, where they destroyed all the remaining wheeled vehicles. He then went forward with his liaison officer, SS-Second Lieutenant van Hogen, to reconnoitre the route, leaving SS-Lieutenant Schnur to follow with the main body twenty minutes later. Krauss recorded:
Van Hogen and I came to a copse that was full of German soldiers and civilians. In front of us was Halbe railway station, which was occupied by the Russians, who were firing at our copse with machine guns and mortars. The cries of the wounded and dying were coming from all around, and something had to be done as quickly as possible. While van Hogen went back to fetch our men, I gathered some officers and NCOs around me, explained the situation and told them that I was taking command and that, as soon as my men arrived, we would break through. Whoever wanted to could join us.
We waited for van Hogen and the rest of the Supply Company in vain. Instead we heard the sounds of fighting coming from their direction. Now 9th Army’s general break-out appeared to be in full swing. We could not wait any longer, so I charged the red-brick buildings of the station shouting: ‘Forward, grenadiers, forward!’
Some 300 followed me, soldiers and civilians, including women and children. Our fearful cries and firing hit the Russians like an apocalypse, and they fled from the station buildings. We charged right across the railway embankment and reached a copse on the far side. Those who fell, or were wounded, were left behind.
We came to a sunken track that was about two metres deep and two hundred metres long. The whole wood was under constant fire from the Russian artillery and mortars. There were dead and wounded lying everywhere, soldiers and civilians. My mob scattered here, with individuals and small groups all heading west. Cohesion had collapsed, the mass refusing to be led any longer. All discipline had disappeared.21
SS-Colonel Kempin reported that many officers and NCOs had removed the epaulettes bearing their rank insignia in rejection of any further disciplinary responsibility.22
The progress of the southern wedge was described in some detail by Rudi Lindner, then an officer cadet with the 1241st Grenadier Regiment, which by then had been reduced to company strength:
We paraded with the 9th Army’s southern armoured spearhead, which consisted of 14 Tiger tanks, assault guns, APCs and motor vehicles, arranged as follows:
• The vanguard, consisting of 2nd Company, 502nd SS Heavy Panzer Battalion;
• The remains of 1241st Grenadier Regiment as close infantry escort for the tanks;
• Part of an APC company of the Kurmark;
• The Reconnaissance and Pioneer Platoon of the 502nd;
• 1st Company, 502nd, with the battalion commander and signals officers, and a mortar battery;
• The remainder of the 502nd with a self-propelled four-barrelled anti-aircraft gun, motorcycles, ambulance and medical officer.
This day, 28 April, which began so calmly as we were detailed off as tank escorts to the armoured columns, and ended so tragically, will always remain in my memory. We did not know then that we were preparing for a journey into hell and that for most of us it would be our death. Our platoon, now made up of one officer and 15 grenadiers, was assigned to the leading Tiger tanks of the spearhead, whose platoon commander was SS-Second Lieutenant Kuhnke.
I found myself on the second tank, commanded by SS-Sergeant-Major Ernst Streng, and with SS-Sergeant Ott as the driver. We fastened ourselves on to the tank mountings with our belts and equipment straps, so that we would have our hands free for firing our rifles and Panzerfausts, and for throwing grenades.
At about 1800 hours on 28 April, the heavy weapons fired a barrage on Halbe, after which the guns were blown up. Then at about 1830 hours our armoured column moved out of the assembly area towards Märkisch Buchholz and Halbe. We thrust through Märkisch Buchholz without encountering any significant resistance, then moved along a woodland track towards Halbe. The northern armoured spearhead of the Panzergrenadier Division Kurmark was also rolling along another woodland track towards Halbe. Short halts for observation and reconnaissance delayed our advance.
A Russian anti-tank barrier in front of Halbe caused the first big delay. A mortar battery went into action and fired a salvo on the resistance nests on the eastern edge of Halbe, while our leading tank platoon engaged the barrier. The Russian security forces then pulled back into Halbe village. Our armoured vanguard was then ordered to push on into Halbe, and our Tiger tanks set off again. We drove into the village south of the railway station, reaching a straight street lined with trees, where the back gardens of the first houses lay.
We thought that here, too, we would encounter only minor resistance, but with a blast all hell broke loose. We had driven into an ambush.
At this point I should mention that following us in the woods to the right and left of our armoured column, if a little further back, was a stream of soldiers and refugees, who kept closing up to us whenever we stopped. In their fear of losing contact and becoming prisoners of the Russians, but also because of non-existent or insufficient combat experience, most of the soldiers were conducting themselves in a totally unmilitary fashion, so that unfortunately very many of them had to pay with their lives for it. For instance, behind each tank in Halbe there was a cluster of some forty to sixty people seeking shelter, and every time we stopped the numbers increased. In addition, many soldiers were unarmed, and most of the soldiers who were armed did not or were unable to use their weapons. In practice, only the leading tank could fire forward, while we grenadiers sitting on top fired obliquely into the roofs and windows.
It was now about 2000 hours as we drove into Halbe and another anti-tank barrier appeared before us, but this time open. The leading tank had got to within about seventy metres when it fired a shot to clear the way, drove on and stopped about thirty metres from the barrier.
Suddenly the inferno broke out with concentrated anti-tank-gun fire coming from ahead, artillery and mortar fire from above, and rifle fire from the roofs and windows of the houses right and left of the street. The artillery fire, with explosive shrapnel and phosphorous shells, and the mortar bombs, caused especially frightful casualties among the numerous, exposed and crammed together groups of people. The street was immediately filled with dead and wounded. Panic, confusion and deadly fear could be seen in the faces of the living, as cries for help came from the wounded and dying.
Our leading tank received a direct hit and started burning. Our second tank tried to turn, got stuck and was hit by a phosphorous shell, and also caught fire. The phosphorous shells burst with glowing white splashes on the tank, and there was phosphor everywhere on our steel helmets and tent-halves. Stinking smoke erupted as the tank began to burn. The crew bailed out and we also jumped off and ran to the third tank. (I later learnt that the crew managed to put the fire out and get the tank going again.)23
SS-Sergeant-Major Ernst Streng, the commander of the second tank (No. 223) on which Lindner was riding, also gave his account of this action:
We asked for an infantry storm troop. We were standing thirty metres from the anti-tank barrier and could neither turn nor shoot in the narrow space within this tree-lined street. Only the lead tank could fire. A bitter fight had broken out on a narrow frontage from house to house, yard to yard, and ditch to ditch. The street was choked with dead and wounded, and trucks loaded with wounded were wedged between the tanks. The houses began to burn, flaming red flickered over the roofs and from the windows, loud explosions came through the darkness. The Russian defensive fire increased by the minute, especially the dreadful mortar fire. Wild screams of pain came from the wounded calling for help from the mowed-down ranks covering the road surface and pavements.
Phosphor shells exploded with glowing white sparks. We were under enemy tank fire. Now it was getting serious. While the flashes of the enemy guns were difficult to identify, our tank stood out like a dark mass between the blazing fires. There was no way out either to the right or rear. The general’s jeep that had been in front of us before had driven off. The tanks were standing one behind the other, and in this situation we suddenly received a direct hit. A blinding whiteness sprayed out. Within seconds the vehicle was on fire and gleaming with light. Ott shouted: ‘Tank on fire!’ on the intercom. Everyone wrenched open their hatches in fright and we tumbled out of the turret head first and hit the road surface hard. Ott hit the side panel as he fell and hurt his ribs. We jumped down from the tank to the street, but turned around and looked at the dark mass of our tank covered in flames in the middle of a mess of fallen telegraph poles, roof tiles and tree branches. Then we realised that it must have been an incendiary shell. We jumped back aboard, one after another, clattering into the fighting space. The driver groaned as he got behind his steering wheel. He did not think that he could drive any more, and this in the midst of all the confusion around us. But he had to drive, he had to! We cursed and swore at him – he couldn’t leave us now – the tank and crew were depending on him. Our rapid exchange of words was full of swearing.
Kuhnke was not answering any more. What had happened? The commander ordered our tank to reverse immediately into the side street. It was high time. There was no question of getting through, we simply had to get out of this narrow trap if we were to avoid casualties.
In turning, Kuhnke’s tank was set on fire by a tank shell as it tried to escape from the narrow street as quickly as possible. A Tiger that had forced its way forward near us (we couldn’t tell in the dark whether it was from our platoon) was trying to reverse on the pavement, and in doing so caught its tracks on the front of a heavy truck, crushing the cab and engine under the tank’s rear. As a result of this, the flaming gases from the tank’s exhaust set fire to the crushed fuel pipes. The flames suddenly shot up enveloping the truck and tank in a sea of fire. The badly wounded riding on the back and turret of the tank and the crew fell like flaming torches to the street with wild screams of pain. Who would see to them? Everyone had to look after themselves. We drove on immediately, as the burning tank threatened to engulf us. Kuhnke’s tank burst apart with a bright flash of flame. The subsequent explosions sprayed the ammunition over the glowing tank sides into the dark of the surrounding night. The street behind us was already clear.
Blinded by the fire, we got the vehicle moving slowly in reverse in the darkness under the trees. The tracks caught on the crushed dead on the street, who were perhaps being run over for the tenth time. The centre of the street had been under tank fire from behind the anti-tank barrier for several minutes.
Our tank did a 180-degree turn on the spot and rolled away, back along the street. In these uneasy seconds, the crew had an fatalistic feeling, for at any moment an enemy tank shell could hit the rear of the vehicle and, at that range, we knew full well that it would come straight through our relatively weak armour. When at last we could turn into the side street, we were deeply grateful to have survived the hard, costly encounter. Our way led right over a main street on which Kuhnke awaited us.24
SS-Second Lieutenant Kuhnke had dismounted in order to consult with his company commander, SS-Captain Neu and his battalion commander SS-Major Kurt Hartrampf, whom he found together in the former’s tank. It was decided to pull back under cover of the leading tanks and bypass Halbe to the north. Kuhnke then returned to his leading tank, which tried to turn left behind a row of trees but got stuck on a tree stump exposing its glowing exhaust to the Soviet gunners in the darkness. The tank was hit in the rear by a shell that set it alight, and the crew had to bail out. Kuhnke was then given a lift by SS-Second Lieutenant Justus of the Reconnaissance Platoon in his armoured personnel carrier.25
Meanwhile Second Lieutenant Dahlinger, commanding 11th Company of Panzergrenadier Regiment Kurmark, was leading his men in house-to-house fighting along the main street under murderous anti-tank, artillery and mortar fire. When they regrouped in a copse to the west of the village, he found that he had only 40 men left of the original 160 of his company on the Seelow Heights.26
Rudi Lindner, with the escorting infantry, continued:
Houses were on fire everywhere. We wanted to climb on to the third tank, but gave up and tried to establish some order behind it, which, however, did not fully work out. Together with some other soldiers, we tended to the wounded and also persuaded the majority of the people not to seek cover behind the tanks but in and between the houses, so that the tanks could manoeuvre, but we also had to witness the dead and wounded being crushed under the tanks. The street was full of dead and wounded and every minute there were more. Meanwhile fighting had begun in the houses.
With this we got enough air and space to be able to direct our fire at the roofs and windows in the direction of the anti-tank barrier. Slowly the paralysis of the first shock began to wear off especially among the combat-experienced soldiers, and more and more joined in, halfway restoring order out of chaos in helping the wounded and getting them off the street into houses and gardens, and in using their weapons.
We, the soldiers on the tanks and those behind them, found, as so often during the war, that in situations like this one’s ability to think becomes blocked and trained reflexes take over. It was only much later that we became fully conscious of what a suicide mission we had been committed to as cannon fodder, and what enormous luck we had in coming out of this inferno alive. I still marvel that I came through Halbe hit by neither a bullet nor a splinter and only got some splashes of phosphorous on my steel helmet and tent-half.
Although during the war I had very often, as an infantryman, been bombarded with weapons of all kinds, especially on the Eastern Front in Russia, I had never experienced such concentrated fire on such a small
area and on so many people.
Meanwhile the tanks had turned round and we sat on them with the remainder of the comrades of our platoon. Only eight men of our platoon were still alive, the others having been either killed or wounded.27
SS-Lieutenant Klust of 502nd SS Heavy Panzer Battalion was in his Tiger a few hundred metres behind the lead tanks:
We drove into Halbe between 2000 and 2100 hours. The village was a confused mass of vehicles, soldiers and civilians, and Russian shells were exploding literally on people’s bodies. We could not possibly get through this in our tank. In this chaos, SS-Major Hartrampf came up to me and said: ‘Klust, the lead troop is stuck fast. We have to get round Halbe to the left. Take over the lead and drive on. This way we will get some space and get on.’
I gave my driver, Bert Fink, the new direction and we drove about 400 metres out of Halbe to the south and then turned back west again. We came under heavy anti-tank gunfire from a patch of woods some hundred metres off and were hit without too much damage. My gunner, Ferdinand Lasser, a typical imperturbable Bavarian, fired even before I had completed the order. We could no longer aim precisely, as it was already quite dark, but Lasser silenced the anti-tank guns with five shots. Then we drove on again, and when we reached the woods we wheeled left for the Massow forest warden’s lodge.28
Rudi Lindner, with the escorting infantry, continued his account:
We were glad as our armoured column moved back slowly, taking us away from this frightful bit of street. From the railway station we then went south a little and then later drove westward through the woods once more.
During the manoeuvring of these Tigers of the leading platoon, and the change of direction of the southern spearhead to a new breakthrough sector in the woods south of Halbe, even more soldiers and civilians pressed into 9th Army’s break-out point at Halbe.
Before turning west we made a short halt to unload the wounded and redistribute the officer cadets among the tanks. The officer cadets from the two shot-up tanks were assigned to a reconnaissance APC equipped with a machine gun, which now took over the lead. We had to reconnoitre towards the autobahn. I sat in the rear of the APC and had to cover the rear through the open door. As I was unable to see properly from there, I stupidly sat on the APC’s rear towing hook, an error I was soon to regret. After having gone about 100 metres, we were shot at from in front and our machine gun and sub-machine gunners opened fire. I had not reckoned on the driver suddenly reversing at full speed. I slipped off the towing hook and fell on the road, turning in such a way that I lay in the direction of travel and on my stomach, pressing myself close to the ground. The tracks of the APC rattled past right and left of my body. Fortunately the APC had sufficient ground clearance. Once the vehicle had gone over and past me, the driver noticed and stopped the APC. Covered by fire from our machine guns, I rolled aside and ran back uninjured to the rear of the APC. Once more I had been lucky and also didn’t have to worry about being laughed at by my comrades. Although there was nothing for me to laugh about, it could have been far worse, and I had to put a good face on it.
With all our weapons firing, the APC pulled back to the armoured column, where the tanks had meanwhile turned their turrets to two o’clock and opened concentrated fire on an assembly of T-34s and other vehicles. Soon several T-34s were alight, making good targets of the others, which therefore withdrew.
Our Tigers received the order to resume the advance towards the autobahn and the officer cadets in the APC were reallocated to the tanks. I was assigned to the tank commanded by Harlander with four other comrades. We climbed aboard and the armoured column set off once more. After a few hundred metres we came under fire again and our tank was hit in the tracks, but kept on firing.
We had driven into a concentration of Russian troops, but under the covering fire of our Tiger’s crew, the armoured column was able to fight its way through towards the autobahn, and with them also went the rest of the officer cadets of our platoon. I heard nothing more of these comrades, either in the days to follow or later on.
Now it became uncomfortable for us on our immobilized tank. We came under heavy fire from Panzerfausts, which fortunately were all fired too high and exploded above us in the trees, showering us with splinters and branches. From the illumination of a flare we saw that we were in the assembly area of some heavy Stalin tanks, and one of these colossi was already turning its turret in our direction as the light went out. A lightning bang, a frightful howling and then a crash shook our tank, which had received a direct hit. The crew bailed out, shouting: ‘Harland is dead!’
We also jumped off and ran instinctively in the direction of the least noise of combat to the next woodland track, where we dug in. This was the time to keep our nerve. We were completely on our own, our tanks had gone over the hill, there were Russian troops in the woods, where exactly no one knew, and our tank crew had run off in another direction.
The most important questions for us were to establish whether the track was free of the enemy and whether it led to the autobahn. I therefore went along the track in a westerly direction to find out. The track was free of the enemy for about 1,000 metres and led, as we luckily later discovered, to the autobahn.
I was glad to get back to my comrades and to get a little sleep before we marched on again.29
Now leading the break-out by 502nd SS Heavy Panzer Battalion, SS-Lieutenant Klust continued:
We drove westwards along a forest track. Many soldiers were marching around our tank, or trying to climb aboard. Some were riding on top and even blocked the air intake for the engine, causing it to overheat. My order to get off the tank and give us some close security was only partially successful.
After another few hundred metres, I had us stop. Orientation was nil. I only had a completely inadequate map showing neither woodland tracks nor precise landmarks. Several vehicles, including a Tiger, closed up behind.
After a brief consultation, we drove on and suddenly found ourselves on top of a Russian bivouac with the odd small campfire. Apparently a Russian supply convoy had bedded down here for the night. Both sides were taken by surprise. We had to get on. Just as I was setting off, a lieutenant-colonel wearing a leather coat jumped on my tank and shouted that we were heading in the wrong direction, but I replied that I was in charge and closed the hatch on him.
We drove on with firing going on all over the woods, friend and foe being indistinguishable in the dark. After another few hundred metres, I stopped again for the others to catch up.30
SS-Lieutenant Bärmann described the composition of this column:
Without orders, we formed up in a new column west of Halbe: two Königstigers, three Panthers, two Hetzers, several APCs, a self-propelled 20mm Flak, and vehicles of all kinds. In addition, infantry, most of whom had no weapons.31
After they had waited all the previous day, the orders for 32nd SS Tank-Hunting Battalion to move did not arrive until the evening of the 28th. Ernst-Christian Gädtke explained what followed:
Once more we cut down on what we would carry, once more we had some hot food and were then issued with cold rations. Finally, in the evening as dusk fell, we moved off to the south-west towards the village of Halbe. The Russian lines followed the Lübben–Gross Köris railway line and we were to breach them at Halbe.
It was dark by the time we reached Halbe, the fighting vehicles following close behind each other along the woodland tracks, those who could sitting aboard, and those on foot keeping close on either side of the track. Everyone was trying to keep as close as possible to the vehicles.
From up in front, from Halbe, came the sounds of battle: infantry fire, the barking of anti-tank guns, the hammering of machine guns. Slowly, with interruptions and delays, the advance continued. Firing was going on in all directions and from all directions, and no one knew who was firing, who was friend and who was foe, who was firing at whom. In Halbe, barns and the roofs of houses were burning. We rolled on through the village, firing on both sides. Dead were lying in the street and between the houses, Russians and Germans all mixed up together. Shots, hits, explosions. Nobody was taking care of those lying there. Somehow we got through.32
We have another descriptive account from Eberhard Baumgart, originally of the Security Company of 32nd SS Division and now with a combat team guarding the headquarters staff:
Late in the afternoon we found ourselves in the wood north-east of Märkisch Buchholz again. Soldiers were camping everywhere and standing around vehicles, including quite a lot of trucks, staff cars and command vehicles. The most senior bigwigs collected around them with their red stripes and gold on their collar patches and caps. These gentlemen were studying maps and conferring, while NCOs were searching among the pines for members of Waffen-SS units. We were really glad not to have been forgotten. The 30. Januar Security Company had come together again and was apparently complete.
Night descended and movement was discernible in the wood around us, but we were not allowed to ride on the tanks. We waited in hope, but had to return to the ranks. The places on the tanks were to be taken by the gentlemen of the staff. Some moonlight came through the pines revealing sandy tracks. The tanks rolled past us and apparently took another direction. The sound of their motors faded away.
We crossed a road and I read ‘Märkisch Buchholz’ and ‘Halbe’ ahead on a signpost. The wood on either side of the road was swarming with soldiers. In front of us Russian artillery fire was coming from the direction of Halbe. The enemy fire increased and shells of all calibres burst among the treetops, breaking tree trunks and ripping holes in them as splinters whistled through the air and branches showered down. That was quite some bombardment. We were expected. I jumped from cover to cover and dived behind pine trees with only one thought: ‘not me!’ In the bright flashes of the explosions I saw some silhouettes flitting about, but only a few. I came through all right myself and saw to left and right of me motionless, waiting soldiers. I wanted to get them to move along with us, but they wouldn’t move. They remained lying there under fire, waiting for others to open the way for them.
We came across some despondent wounded men and some dead ones. I reached the roadway just short of the village. The artillery fire was going over us, so now the mortars took us on as their target. Ducking down, we hastened towards the station, having to avoid or jump over corpses. On the left-hand side was a railwaymen’s hut. It had really been hailing down hard here! I had seldom seen such a mass of dead in a small area in all the war, and then only on the Russian side, but these were Germans. The wood was now getting less dense and I could see the hut more clearly. Men were pressed tightly together along its length like a swarm of bees to a post. What we saw there looking like frozen grains of salt turned out to be totally terrified soldiers. They thought that they were in dead ground, safe from enemy fire, but what a mistake that was. They just turned round when shouted at. This was only a few metres from the railway level crossing barriers, which stuck up into the grey skies. On the crossing was a carpet of corpses, grey-green corpses. I could see only German soldiers. I had to get away from here. But where to? I could see nothing but corpses, corpses in front of us, on and beyond the crossing. And whoever hesitated here would soon be lying among them.
At first I tried to avoid the dead, for there were some wounded among them, but the dead were lying on top of each other in the middle of the crossing, and one couldn’t make out where one was treading. I had to grit my teeth and get on. The storage sheds near the station were beginning to burn and I could read ‘Halbe’ on the station sign. I will never be able to forget this place. I had to get away. We hastened along the street, which opened out in the grey of the pinewood only a few metres away [the road to Teurow and Freidorf]. There was some cover in the roadside ditches and many soldiers gathered here. Some vehicles also appeared, driving in both directions. Confusion and uncertainty clearly reigned here.33
Second Lieutenant Kurt Schwarz, of the 1st Battalion of Panzer Regiment Brandenburg, came through Halbe that evening in a group of four Panthers. They turned south towards Teurow and then west again for the autobahn:
Suddenly I was whirled round in the turret by a hard blow, a hit by a mortar bomb. The gunner and loader bandaged me up in the turret. Shortly afterwards we were hit in the side of the engine space and our Panther burst into flames. I screamed: ‘Out!’ We found cover together in a hollow close to the burning tank. Suddenly there was a big explosion and the pressure blew the turret off the turret ring. We pressed ourselves down in the hollow, and the seven-metre long gun barrel hit the ground right in front of us.34
Second Lieutenant Ernst Habermann of the same unit was leading a group of tanks in his APC and witnessed the destruction of two of the German tanks as they approached the autobahn:
A ferocious fight broke out here. Lieutenant Petersen’s tank was shot up and he was killed. Our APC was rammed by a Königstiger when it reversed while engaged by an anti-tank gun, and we had to continue on foot behind our tanks. I was about to get on to a passing tank when it was hit and I was wounded in the thigh. After a second hit, only the wounded driver and the radio operator bailed out. We lay down under the shot-up Panther and were tending our wounds, when it suddenly burst into flames, and we had to move away. Near the autobahn we found six dead soldiers who had been shot in the back of the neck.35
Günter Führling and Heiner Lüdermann, two officer cadets with orders to report to their parent 303rd Infantry Division still in their pockets, decided to leave the rearguard on the banks of the Dahme and make their own break-out to the west that evening. After passing endless, jammed, stationary columns of transport through Märkisch Buchholz and the woods leading to Halbe they came to the town. Führling depicted the scene in Halbe:
The noise of battle grew louder as we approached the railway embankment, which had to be crossed even though it was being swept by machine-gun fire. We had the impression that the firing was coming from both sides, but especially from the south. We did not have to crawl over the embankment, we could creep over, as there were so many dead soldiers that they protected us like a wide and high bulletproof screen on either side. We could hear no signs of life coming from these bodies; they had been riddled with bullets.
The station was on our right. The road forked and we came across some notices indicating that the troops should turn down the road to Teurow and that the general had already gone down that way with a Tiger in the lead and broken through.
I can still recall the details of the break-out, but I was astonished that information like this could be passed on so quickly in such chaos, when the sounds of battle were deafening. Standing on this street in Halbe, I did not yet realise that the break-out had become hopeless. We imagined that the leaders would be up ahead. The troops in the street should not have been leaderless, going like sheep to the slaughter, but that was exactly what was happening. Obviously the signs pointing the way down Kirchstrasse had been put up by Seydlitz-Troops in German uniform. They had taken up a position that would not be fired on by the Russians, and the Germans were being directed straight on to the Russian machine guns. The Russians had occupied the church on the right-hand side of the street and were firing from the church tower.
Although it was dark, the images remain fixed in my memory – but not the ear-deafening noise. The street was several hundred metres long and had most of its buildings on the right-hand side. The left-hand side was full of dead that had been dragged aside to clear the street. In the darkness it seemed that only the right-hand side of the street was inhabited. Like on the railway embankment, there was a wall of several thousand dead along the street that had fallen within these few hundred yards. I saw nothing of the trampled and mangled bodies, but I could hear the whimpering, groaning and cries for help. But everyone was concerned only for themselves, looking out for Russian snipers in the windows of the buildings, or from where the most fire was coming. Tanks and supply trucks stood still on the street as the attack faltered.
There were some Hetzers right in front. They did not have movable turrets, so the whole vehicle had to turn in order to aim the gun. Soldiers were using them as cover, running behind the three or four Hetzers, thinking that most firing was coming from ahead. We, however, had the impression that the fire was coming mainly from the right out of the gaps between the buildings, or the windows, so we passed along the left-hand side of the tanks, and were correct. There was no panic, just dull routine procedure. Each told the other what to look out for. No one smoked, for matches and cigarettes would betray you in the dark. A motorcycle sidecar wheel was stuck so close to one of the tanks that the passenger would be crushed if it moved. We could only alert the crew to this after some agonising minutes, as our knocking sounded just like infantry fire to the crew inside. All were hoping that the column would break free, as there was supposed to be only slight Russian resistance to be overcome up ahead.
We suspected that the spearhead would be immediately ahead of us around the slight bend in the road, not knowing that the road had been blocked off by the Russians in Teurow. As nothing was moving forward, we decided to take a break, and climbed through the window of a building on the right-hand side of the street. In the dark we noticed and sensed that the room was completely full of soldiers. There were only two places still free on the floor right next to the window opposite, the most dangerous place in the room. A soldier was sitting on a chair, which I had not noticed when I tried to sit down. Shortly afterwards the building was hit by a shell and the room filled with dust. ‘Is anyone hurt?’ somebody called out. From the floor, where 15 to 20 men were sitting tightly packed together, came the answer, ‘No.’ I felt some crumbly moisture on my helmet and struck a match. Then I saw that the soldier on the chair had been decapitated. It was the soldier sitting on the chair, where I had wanted to sit. I extinguished the match to loud cries of protest. Heiner and I did not linger any longer. We did not feel any safer in the street, but hoped to make some progress. Since the attack was still being held in check, we went back to the railway and crept back over the embankment to the edge of the woods. As we could get no idea what was happening, we went back into the chaos on the street with its many dead and wounded, and no movement either forward or back, although everyone wanted to move on.
Where the village ended and the street became the main road again, there was a pinewood on the right, which we reached safely. We then checked every foxhole and the like, in this manner covering several hundred metres until we came to a house on the main road, whose steps led down to a wash cellar.
What we could not know was that the breakthrough was taking place only 3,000 to 4,000 metres away, where troops were crossing the autobahn with all the available heavy tanks and almost all the SPGs, but with heavy losses. According to General Busse there were some 30,000 to 40,000 of them.
Totally exhausted, we crept into the house’s wash cellar, thinking that we had found a safe shelter. The threat of being taken prisoner was with us every moment, and we wondered how the Russians would react. As officer cadets we had no NCO lace sewn on our uniforms and only had to unbutton our epaulettes to remove our rank insignia.
It was already becoming light when we went down the steps. Although we expected to be taken prisoner, it happened sooner than we had expected. After about twenty minutes the demand came in German: ‘Come out, Ivan is here, leave your weapons!’ Seydlitz-Troops?
As I emerged, I saw only Russian uniforms and Mongolian faces, several of the soldiers having only a cord instead of a belt around them. One of them took my Finnish dagger with its beautifully decorated leather sheath that I wore on my belt and had forgotten to remove, and thumped me with his rifle butt because of it. In the background I saw Russian soldiers advancing in line abreast through the woods on Halbe.
We had not noticed this dawn counterattack. We prisoners – about ten men – now marched off in the direction we had wanted to take, but under an escort that we would certainly have avoided. We went a few hundred metres through a wood past some dead German soldiers, and were surprised how far they had come.36
Günter Führling’s encounter with Seydlitz-Troops in Halbe is corroborated by SS-Major Hartrampf, commanding the vanguard of the northern wedge, who visited a police post on the edge of the village and was told that it was clear of the enemy, but when he went forward to find out why his tanks were not moving, the policeman accompanying him disappeared, and he suspected that he and his men must have been Seydlitz-Troops posing as policemen.37
The remains of the SS Panzergrenadier Division Nederland, down to about 300 men, also broke out near the village. SS-Major-General Jürgen Wagner divided his men into three groups for the break-out, the first under SS-Captain Tröger of 1st Battalion, 48th SS Panzergrenadier Regiment General Seyffarth, the second under SS-Second Lieutenant Reischütz, and the third under SS-Second Lieutenant Bender.38
Since movement within the pocket could not be concealed from the Soviets, they pressed hard upon the weak securing units from east of the Dahme. As there were no longer any heavy weapons available, the German troops had to resort to their own resources and counterattacked in classic style, using hand grenades, spades and sub-machine guns. Among them was the Mathiebe Combat Team from 1st Battalion, 86th Grenadier Regiment Schill, which retook the area around the Streganz brickworks and held on to it. This defensive battle, which also included the retaking of Hermsdorf by the combat team, went on all day.
SS-Lieutenant Bärmann of the 32nd SS Tank-Hunting Battalion wrote:
Our divisional staff were in Hermsdorf, where a general was directing traffic with a pistol in his hand. Only in this way could panic be prevented, and the streams of traffic flow in orderly fashion.
The headquarters moved on to the Hammer forestry office, which first had to be cleared of its Russian occupants, but they had to leave 2,000 wounded behind in Hermsdorf in the care of their last two medical officers and some medical orderlies.39
The outward flow of troops and refugees remained sluggish, being constantly interrupted by attacking aircraft and heavy artillery fire. Nothing was known of developments at the break-out point. Stragglers and soldiers who had distanced themselves from their units mingled with endless streams of refugees moving this way and that all day long through the narrow pocket, attracting the Russian aircraft like moths to a flame. The dead and wounded could no longer be tended to or made safe. Apart from the lack of ammunition, there was also a lack of bandages and medical supplies. Doctors and medical orderlies were scarcely to be seen.40
The SS-second lieutenant of Battlegroup Becker, which was still within the main pocket, continued his account:
On 28 April we moved as the last unit and, after a few kilometres, occupied a new position on a small height near a village. The Russians came across the open ground and attacked us with loud cries. Aircraft pinned us down and it became a bitter fight. We had to repel their attacks four times, mainly in close combat with some indescribable scenes.
Our ammunition ran out in the afternoon, but a runner appeared at the last moment carrying several boxes of ammunition, and we made a counterattack with 50 men, the rest being incapable of taking part. Wounded Russians were screaming, and some of the barns and houses had caught fire. We could not have withstood another Russian attack.
Soldiers who rejoined our unit later reported that a so-called Seydlitz officer had said to them: ‘Just tell them that their positions are about to be attacked by two battalions to force a way into the pocket and split up the remaining units.’
We received the order to abandon our positions at 2100 hours on this terrible day. We were to proceed towards Halbe via Hermsdorf. Unfortunately, the sounds of fighting in front of us had become even stronger. Suddenly we were unable to go on. A wounded soldier came back and said that Halbe was seven kilometres away and that there had already been two days of bitter fighting there with a frightful number of dead.41
That afternoon the Schill and Hutten Infantry Divisions of General Wenck’s 12th Army continued their advance towards Potsdam. Lieutenant-General Engel of the Schill Division deployed two regiments of infantry, the SPGs and two platoons of tanks in his spearhead, using APCs and armoured cars to cover the flanks.
The Scharnhorst and Körner Infantry Divisions were equally heavily engaged around Beelitz, where an attack on the sanatorium located in the woods outside the town met bitter resistance. The approach to the sanatorium was blocked by a strongly defended transformer building which had first to be reduced by anti-tank gunfire before fighting for the hospital buildings could begin. There the Soviets conducted their defence from the underground corridors connecting the individual buildings – even though the corridors were filled with 3,000 sick and wounded. As soon as the Germans had taken the first building, the evacuation of the patients with their medical attendants was begun. With them were some representatives of the International Red Cross who later negotiated their acceptance by the American forces on the Elbe.42
The area now held, extending along the line Nichel–Reesdorf–railway junction north of Beelitz-Ferch, and including Elsholz, Buchholz and Brachwitz, provided a suitable catchment area for receiving break-out groups from either Berlin, Potsdam or Halbe. A situation report by 12th Army read:
The enemy has been able to penetrate Potsdam from the north. Our own attack thrust forward with the right wing farther to the east, taking Salzbronn and Elsholz. Hard fighting around Beelitz. North of there leading elements of the Scharnhorst Division have reached the railway crossing six kilometres north of Beelitz. Spearheads of the Hutten Division have taken Ferch. Striking along the Schwielowsee during the night.43
The suggestion was then sent to 9th Army to concentrate its efforts towards the Beelitz area, where the Soviet forces were relatively weak and scattered over a wide area, providing the only reasonable chance of success. The 12th Army would try to hold its ground as long as possible against the already increasing pressure. A signal received from the OKW ordering 12th Army to close up to the line of the Havel between the Schwielowsee and Brandenburg was ignored.44
Meanwhile, acting on orders received the day before, 4th Guards Tank Army’s 5th Guards Mechanized Corps took up the offensive from its positions along the line Buchholz–Treuenbrietzen and seized the villages of Brachwitz and Schlalach in the swampy terrain beyond the railway line to the west in some bitter fighting. The Soviets claimed to have destroyed six SPGs in this engagement.45
NOTES
1. Wilke, Am Rande der Strassen, p. 124.
2. The second highest Soviet decoration after the Order of Lenin.
3. Adapted from Harry Zvi Glaser’s account in the author’s With Our Backs to Berlin.
4. Wilke, Am Rande der Strassen, p. 63.
5. Domank, The 1st Guards Breakthrough Artillery Division at Halbe’; Lakowski/Stich, Der Kessel von Halbe 1945, p. 108.
6. Koniev, Year of Victory, p. 184; Erickson, The Road to Berlin, p. 600. Koniev was still aiming for the Reichstag.
7. Koniev, Year of Victory, p. 184. The only Plauener Strasse then and now is in Hohenschönhausen in north-east Berlin. Koniev probably meant Pallasstrasse.
8. Koniev, Year of Victory, p. 187.
9. Wilke, Am Rande der Strassen, p. 48.
10. Tieke, Das Ende zwischen Oder und Elbe, p. 312.
11. Lakowski/Stich, Der Kessel von Halbe 1945, p. 111.
12. Lakowski/Stich, Der Kessel von Halbe 1945, pp. 111–18.
13. Tieke, Das Ende zwischen Oder und Elbe, p. 315.
14. Letter to Dr Lakowski, cited in Lakowski/Stich, Der Kessel von Halbe 1945, pp 182–3.
15. These tanks are referred to indiscriminately by witnesses as either Tigers or Königstigers. Schulze, Der Kessel Halbe–Baruth–Radeland, p. 83 supplies the following information:
‘The exact number of Tiger IIs available near and in Halbe cannot be established due to the varied and conflicting accounts. The strength return for the 502nd at Klein Hammer gives seven each for the 1st and 2nd Companies, but already here the figure of seven for the 1st Company is doubtful. Tieke, Das Ende zwischen Oder und Elbe, gives 14 in Halbe, Scholz counted 12 in Halbe at night. Führling, Endkampf an der Oderfront, says 13 and Streng/Ott seven. Even the standard works have doubts, so that one must enquire about each tank: was it really a Tiger, or in fact a Panther? Thus three Tigers were listed as casualties in or near Halbe, Kuhnke (211), Harlander (213) and Münster (214). Apparently a further two Tigers were lost between Halbe and Löpten. Steng/Ott’s account of seven refers to Massow, where Schneider gives five, two having become stuck crossing the autobahn and having to be blown up. Thus two tanks were lost, one of them Kämp’s (123).
Of the six Tigers of the 502nd in Massow early on 29 April 1945, we have the following fates:
Hellwig’s 222 was ordered by Streng to secure the Reichsstrasse 96 crossing to the north towards Wünsdorf. Hellwig came back without it, the Tiger having had to be blown up by Neuhof.
Pott’s Tiger was shot up on the R 96 and none of the crew was able to bail out.
Stehmann’s 111 was blown up between Fernneuendorf and Sperenberg.
Neu’s Tiger stopped near Märtinsmühle (or Hennickendorf?) with water in the fuel.
Streng/Ott’s penultimate Tiger 223 was shot up at about 0500 hours on 1 May between Schönefeld and Zauchwitz, about 300 metres south-east of the footbridge over the Nieplitz stream. After the wounded crew had bailed out, now under the command of Neu, the tank blew up and the 18-ton turret was blown off. Ott ended in Soviet captivity.
Klust/Fink’s last Tiger, finally under the command of SS-Lieutenant Egger, reached the radio towers between Schönefeld and Elshoz, where they tanked up with diesel. The vehicle drove on for a further three or four kilometres before giving up the ghost. Driver Fink had discovered, without realising it, the later much cited multi-fuel engine. The tank was blown up in 1946/47.
According to an eyewitness, Erwin Schade, who was then 14 years old, bits flew up to fifty metres away.’
16. Tieke, Das Ende zwischen Oder und Elbe, pp. 332–3; Ziemke, Battle for Berlin, p. 119; Komornicki, Polnische Soldaten stürmten Berlin, p. 143.
17. Tieke, Das Ende zwischen Oder und Elbe, p. 315.
18. Lakowski/Stich, Der Kessel von Halbe 1945, p. 119.
19. Domank, The 1st Guards Breakthrough Artillery Division at Halbe’.
20. Lakowski/Stich, Der Kessel von Halbe 1945, pp. 108–18.
21. Tieke, Das Ende zwischen Oder und Elbe, pp. 319, 321.
22. Ibid.
23. Lindner in the author’s Death Was Our Companion.
24. Fey, Panzer im Brennpunkt der Fronten, pp. 198–9.
25. Tieke, Das Ende zwischen Oder und Elbe, p. 317.
26. Ibid.
27. Lindner in the author’s Death Was Our Companion.
28. Tieke, Das Ende zwischen Oder und Elbe, p. 320.
29. Lindner in the author’s Death Was Our Companion.
30. Tieke, Das Ende zwischen Oder und Elbe, p. 320.
31. Ibid.
32. Gädtke, Von der Oder zur Elbe, p. 34.
33. Wilke, Am Rande der Strassen, pp. 58–9.
34. Helmut Jurisch in corresondence with the author.
35. Ibid.
36. Führling, Endkampf an der Oderfront, pp. 123–8.
37. Tieke, Das Ende zwischen Oder und Elbe, p. 316.
38. Tieke, Das Ende zwischen Oder und Elbe, p. 319.
39. Tieke, Das Ende zwischen Oder und Elbe, pp. 310–11.
40. Wilke, Am Rande der Strassen, p. 55.
41. Ibid., pp. 83–4.
42. Wenck, ‘Berlin war nicht mehr zu retten’, pp. 65–6; Gellermann, Die Armee Wenck, pp. 85–6. Patients from the main civilian and military hospitals in Berlin and Potsdam had been evacuated here to a lung clinic and adjacent barracks (Ramm, Gott Mit Uns, p. 228). General Koehler, in a letter written to the commander of the 83rd US Infantry Division on 26 April appealing for the acceptance of the sick and wounded, anticipated finding 6,000 in his operational area, so it is possible that there were something like this figure recovered overall.
43. Lakowski/Stich, Der Kessel von Halbe 1945, p. 113.
44. Gellermann, Die Armee Wenck, pp. 87–9.
45. Kreisleitung Jüterbog booklet, p. 26.