The Road to Berlin (122 page)

Concerned at the progress of the attack, Rokossovskii asked Batov for a report and decided to come to 65th Army to see for himself, accompanied by the air force commander, K.A. Vershinin, the Front engineer B.V. Blagoslavov and the Front artillery commander A.K. Sokolskii. The scene which greeted him laid most of his fears to rest and he was able to watch by telescope Soviet units on the western bank beating off a German counter-attack mounted with about one battalion. Confident that Batov’s divisions were well established, Rokossovskii proposed to exploit this bridgehead in the interests of the entire Front assault. Popov’s 70th Army had begun its attack at 0700 hours, covered by an hour-long artillery bombardment; using two ferry crossings and 150 small boats, lead battalions from 47th Rifle Corps managed to gain a foothold on the opposite bank of the West Oder but the crossing was covered by German guns at Greifenhagen and the dykes—vital for the movement of artillery and heavy equipment—were covered by German machine-guns and anti-tank weapons. Popov’s guns had failed to knock out these defences, and the infantry suffered. Only the intervention of Soviet aircraft saved the situation, enabling the engineers to move pontoons up to the dykes and start the movement of artillery.

Small though his bridgeheads were and as yet bereft of artillery, at least Popov was across the West Oder. The same could not be said for Grishin’s 49th Army, a formation specially reinforced to launch an attack designed to push Third
Panzer
back to the north and the north-west where 70th Army would finish the German divisions off—an operation closely linked with the right flank of Zhukov’s 1st Belorussian Front. To Rokossovskii’s consternation Grishin had not moved an inch: attacking at the same hour as 70th Army, 49th Army’s assault crossing had been beaten back decisively. Thanks to poor reconnaissance before the attack, a secondary canal had been mistaken for the main stream of the West Oder, so that the opening artillery barrage fell on a few insignificant German positions, leaving the main defences untouched. Once the rifle units launched their crossing, they were met by devastating machine-gun fire. Only handfuls of men managed
to get ashore on the West Oder, hanging on to the minute bridgeheads by their fingertips and suffering heavy casualties in their attempt to remain on the opposite bank.

Rokossovskii ordered Grishin to renew his attack in the morning, since he feared that further delay might allow the German command to transfer troops from this sector to block the 65th and 70th Armies, but this did not appreciably alter a serious situation. Ironically, the formation in the least favourable position—Batov’s 65th, whose flank was exposed to long-range German guns in Stettin—had scored the greatest success, a situation Rokossovskii now intended to exploit to the full. There was nothing for it but to shift the main effort of 2nd Belorussian Front to the right flank, using Batov’s substantial bridgehead; 70th Army could be directed to these crossings, though by the evening of 20 April Popov had twelve battalions across on his own sector, while the reinforcement supplied to Grishin’s 49th could also be rerouted into this area. Should Grishin fail again, Rokossovskii intended to redeploy these resources. Meanwhile he had offered Batov Panov’s 1st Guards Don Tank Corps—Panov was an old comrade of Batov’s—and possibly 3rd Guards Tank Corps, as well as reinforcements in bridging equipment to take the increased traffic. Already reconnaissance units from 136th Rifle Division (70th Army) were drawing up in Batov’s area, and Grishin sent along two pontoon bridges and two regiments of
SP
guns. Batov certainly stood in need of some reinforcement, for the slow progress of 70th Army and the unsuccessful ‘demonstration’ by 2nd Shock Army north of Stettin enabled the German command to bring more forces to bear against the 65th Army. During the night of 20–21 April the units in Batov’s bridgehead fought off more than thirty German counter-attacks and two German divisions (27th
Langemark
and the 281st Infantry Division) were on their way to swell the attacks, which grew steadily to fifty and more, sometimes in regimental strength with tank support.

For the moment Soviet units on the western bank of the West Oder could only ‘nibble’ at the German defences, since they lacked sufficient strength to launch a break-out; furious work went on to build up the crossings in Batov’s zone, with thirty-ton and fifty-ton bridges going down and large sixteen-ton ferries in operation, much of this equipment coming from 49th Army. In the course of operations on 21 April Batov continued to reinforce his bridgehead, with 105th Rifle Corps extending the front to the right, but 70th Army made little or no progress, the sum total of its gains amounting to the capture of a clump of woods north of Pargov; however, units of 70th Army did manage to clear some of the dykes in the flooded stretch between the two Oders and began at last to move heavy equipment. Grishin’s 49th continued to fare dismally, managing only small footholds on the western bank of the West Oder, which had to be maintained against heavy Germany pressure. Rokossovskii’s offensive must now proceed almost wholly along the right flank, using Batov’s enlarged bridgehead now five miles across and over two miles deep.

On 20 April, the
Führer’s
fifty-sixth birthday, the reality of the threat to Berlin hit the city like a shock wave. By way of vengeful and sardonic salutation, Allied bombers mounted their last massive raid on the German capital, setting off a huge round of fires. Rumours began to spread, affirming that Soviet troops were now at Müncheberg and Strausberg—a mere fifteen miles to the east of Berlin—and another major Soviet thrust was developing with great rapidity from the south; encirclement could not be far away. The ruination brought about by repeated heavy bomber raids abounded in the city. Now, familiar daily routines terminated abruptly: the trams stopped, the underground closed, refuse lay uncollected, mail undelivered, and electric power died. Nazi potentates made ready to pack and depart without further ceremony, though not without their large and impressive official cars; senior officers were not slow to follow this example, adding to the convoys of cars now speeding to the north and to the south. The Commandant’s office in Berlin freely handed out passes to those officials who wished to leave, deliberately fuelling the stampede. But there was to be no escape for the mass of the citizenry denied transport or for those already hanging limp from lamp-posts, hanged for supposed desertion when their masters practised it in reality.

At 11 o’clock on the morning of 20 April Zhukov’s guns opened fire directly on Berlin: Guards Major A.I. Zyukin commanding a battery of the 30th Guards Artillery Brigade attached to General Perkhorovich’s 47th Army fired off a salvo in salute to the capture of Bernau. In the course of the morning’s fighting 125th Rifle Corps (47th Army) had stormed and captured Bernau; Kuznetsov’s 3rd Shock was through the third belt of German defences, and Bogdanov’s 2nd Guards Tank Army after its agonizing entanglement among the German position had now reached open country and raced ahead of the infantry to the outskirts of Berlin at Ladenburg and Zepernick, the latter in the north-eastern suburbs of the city. Two of Bogdanov’s corps—9th Guards Tank and 1st Mechanized—continued their drive to outflank the German capital from the north. Berzarin’s 5th Shock Army with 12th Guards Tank Corps and elements of 11th Tank Corps in support fought its way through the remnants of the third defence line and aimed to wipe out the defenders of Strausberg.

Koniev’s tanks continued to race upon Berlin from the south, a fact much to the fore of Zhukov’s mind. Cutting right away from the infantry, Lelyushenko and Rybalko had sliced their way north-westwards for about thirty-eight miles isolating Gräser’s Fourth
Panzer
Army and cutting right across Busse’s lines of communication in the drive for Zossen and Potsdam. Towards midday on 20 April the 6th Tank Corps (3rd Guards Tank Army) raced towards Barut in an attempt to rush this small town. The attempt failed, whereupon the Corps commander selected two brigades—the 53rd and 52nd—to attack Barut from the south-east and west; at 1300 hours Barut fell to Soviet troops and the road to Zossen was open. Lelyushenko operating a little to the south meanwhile pressed on towards Luckenwalde and Jüterborg, swinging the left flank of the tank army
to the west. Further to the rear Gordov’s 3rd Guards Army was trying desperately to eliminate the German ‘Cottbus group’, having already broken into the eastern suburbs and outflanked the town to the south-west. Koniev, however, could scarcely ignore the fact that from Cottbus to Zossen his right flank was open and vulnerable—it was necessary to have a little ‘educational talk’ with Gordov in order to impress on him the urgency of eliminating the Cottbus group, while at the same time pushing Luchinskii’s 28th Army forward to close this gap and to complete the encirclement of German forces south-east of Berlin. Part of Luchinskii’s army also moved forward to support Rybalko’s tank divisions.

However, Marshal Koniev was far from satisfied. In the morning a heavy artillery barrage, preceded by bombing attacks, opened against Spremberg—a threat to his left flank, as Cottbus was to his right—and Zhadov’s infantry attacked at 11 o’clock; Lebedenko’s 33rd Guards Rifle Corps managed to clear the town and even advanced about four miles to the west. Two corps from Pukhov’s 13th Army continued to advance westwards in the wake of the tank armies and covered about twenty miles on 20 April, drawing up to Finsterwalde. In effect, Koniev had cut the entire German front in two. But this achievement was not enough. A Front order instructed army commanders that henceforth only fuel and ammunition would be shipped west of the Spree. Koniev, voicing his dissatisfaction, ordered Bogdanov to speed up his investment of the Barut-Luckenwalde line, the quicker to strike on Berlin. On 20 April both tank army commanders received a blunt radiogram from Koniev: ‘Personal to Comrades Rybalko and Lelyushenko. Order you categorically to break into Berlin tonight. Report execution. 1940 hours 20.4.45, Koniev.’ The import was plain.

The moment for urgent, demanding signals had clearly come. Within an hour of Koniev’s radiogram to his tank armies Marshal Zhukov radioed the commander and staff of 1st Guards Tank Army with special instructions of his own:

Katukov, Popiel. 1st Guards Tank has been assigned a historic mission: to be the first to break into Berlin and hoist the Victory Banner. Personally charge you with organizing and execution. From each corps send up to one of the best brigades into Berlin and issue following orders: no later than 0400 hours morning 21 April at any cost to break into the outskirts of Berlin and report at once for transmission to Comrade Stalin and press announcement. Zhukov. Telegin. [A. Babadzhanyan,
Dorogi pobedy
, p. 271.]

This order left nothing to the imagination. Zhukov intended to be the first into Berlin and not only Stalin but the world press would know it. Since 1430 hours on 20 April the 207th Field Artillery Regiment of the 10th Artillery Brigade (6th Breakthrough Artillery Division) had been systematically shelling Berlin, but Zhukov wanted his men on the ground in undisputed first possession. Katukov knew what was required of him, though time was short to prepare. Choosing the best brigades presented no problem—1st and 44th, obviously, the latter commanded by Colonel Gusakovskii—but very little time remained in which to plan the operation in detail. The woods were burning, sending out thick smoke
and cutting down visibility; the tanks could use one road, but boys with
Panzerfausts
waited at almost every turn.

With Soviet shells falling directly and uninterruptedly on Berlin, Hitler emerged from the bunker in the afternoon of 20 April to dust-laden air and the virtual rubbish dump of the
Reichskanzlei
garden, littered with old cans and torn branches. It was a bent, trembling
Führer
who inspected soldiers of the
SS Frundsberg
Division and the boys of the
Hitler Jugend
, teenagers who might sob with fright but still fired their
Panzerfausts
with determination. Wishing the men and the boys well, Hitler turned his back on the daylight and went underground, there to greet well-wishers gathered for his birthday and then to debate the fate of Berlin in a weird, writhing, hopeless war conference. The situation bore every sign of impending catastrophe: Busse’s Ninth Army, particularly his right flank, faced encirclement and speedy destruction, a great and growing gap had opened between Ninth Army and Fourth
Panzer
, Koniev’s tanks were at the approaches to Zossen, von Manteuffel’s Third
Panzer
was isolated from the main body of the defence and Ninth Army, and Berlin itself was under threat of immediate attack. Of his own plans Hitler confided privately that he intended to stay in Berlin. Discussing a reorganization of the Nazi command, he authorized Dönitz and part of the OKW staff to leave for the north and others to depart to the south—even hinting that he might follow—though his own decision was well nigh made. Heinrici had battled all day to save Busse’s Ninth Army; shortly after midnight, on 21 April, he argued again for permission to pull the Ninth back, conscious that a ‘front line’ scarcely existed, only to encounter an unyielding refusal on the part of the
Führer
. Indeed, Hitler for his part now demanded that Ninth Army hold its positions and Heinrici bend all his efforts to plugging the gaps to the east of Berlin in order to re-establish a continuous front. Ninth Army was clearly doomed, but the grandiose war game with arrows stabbing the maps and lines coiling round supposed positions, where none but the dead now lay, must be played out to the end.

On Saturday morning, 21 April, the scream of shells and the dull veinous red of shell bursts, scattering shoppers, blowing passers-by to pieces or ripping them horribly with shrapnel on the open streets, were the first intimations that Berlin was under close and sustained attack. ‘Mother cannon’ announced it in traditional Russian style, forcing Berliners into the grim, crowded bunkers which all too soon stank of overloaded humanity. Berlin scrambled underground to fight this pitiful, sordid, dirty, filth-laden battle, shunning the light of day like the
Führer
who had already abandoned the open skies. During the night, as Hiler dementedly condemned Ninth Army to death, Zhukov’s tanks and infantry closed on the northern and north-eastern suburbs of the city, driving past the remnants of
SS
units and skirting the
Panzerfaust
ambushes laid by old men and schoolboys. The tanks steered gingerly through wooded areas and passed warily through hamlets and small villages, alert for that sudden burst of fire which signalled a German rearguard. Towards 6 o’clock in the morning of 21
April Kuznetsov’s 3rd Shock Army with 1st Mechanized Corps closed on the north-eastern suburbs of Berlin, with Colonel A.I. Negoda’s 171st Rifle Division in the lead. Driving down the Lindenberg–Malchow road, units of Krivoshein’s 1st Mechanized Corps tried during the morning to take Malchow off the march, but two brigades—19th and 35th—ran into heavy opposition and stopped short. Krivoshein decided to sidestep to the east and drive on Weissensee. One regiment (9th Tank) fought its way into Weissensee and opened up a route for the whole corps to push deeper into Berlin as well as investing this outer suburb. Karow had already fallen to 79th Corps during the afternoon.