Chapter 213 |
< World War II - River of Fire and Blood (9) >
September 29, 1941
Central Belarus (Western Soviet Union), Minsk
The Soviet general offensive had ended, and the battle had entered a lull.
The Commander of Army Group North, Field Marshal Günther von Kluge, walked through the urban area of Minsk with a grim face, his staff officers in tow.
The streets of Minsk had been turned into a semi-ruin as a result of the brutal urban warfare.
The scars left everywhere and the tattered buildings were a stark reminder of the ferocity of the battle.
Army Group North had suffered a severe blow when what they thought was an echelon offensive across the entire front turned into a surprise general offensive.
It had been a close call just to rally the units scattered across the Belarus theater in time to successfully establish a defense line stretching from the Minsk urban area to Bobruisk.
“Are there any issues?”
Unlike Model, who was approachable and enjoyed cracking jokes, his subordinates found the ever-stern-faced Field Marshal Kluge difficult to approach. But the Field Marshal, who had held his ground in Minsk, the headquarters, and had calmly assessed the situation and issued commands under adverse conditions, was an incredibly reassuring presence.
When the Field Marshal heard of problems from his subordinate generals, his Chief of Staff, Friedrich Paulus, would meticulously investigate them and find possible solutions, assisting Kluge.
Although the situation was dire, the combination of the two—the commander as a strong leader and the meticulous staff officer—played a major role in their survival through the worst of it.
As Kluge’s tour of the city entered the Polish Army’s sector, the Polish soldiers saluted him without hesitation, and Kluge returned the salute.
Although they didn't speak the same language, a certain level of trust had formed between the two armies through the battles they had fought together.
“Welcome, Field Marshal Kluge.”
“What’s the situation, Lieutenant General Anders?”
Field Marshal Kluge asked through an interpreter to the commander of the Polish Army Group North, Lieutenant General Anders, who replied with a somber expression.
“We are still compiling the numbers, but we estimate our losses to be at least 200,000.”
The total strength of the Polish Army Group North was 500,000.
Kluge’s face hardened at the news that nearly half had been sacrificed.
General Sosabowski of the Polish Army Group Centre, which had defended Bobruisk, had also reported losses of nearly 100,000.
In this battle alone, the Polish Army had lost one-fifth of its total forces.
Army Group North had also suffered 150,000 losses out of 600,000 men.
The casualties on the Belarusian front alone were more than double the total Allied losses from Operation Liberation.
Even in such a situation, Field Marshal Kluge simply nodded calmly.
“Understood. Reinforcements are close at hand, so please ensure your units are thoroughly reorganized.”
“Will do. Ah, but.”
General Anders replied readily, but then his brow furrowed slightly.
“What are your intentions for those who call themselves the Free Russian Army?”
The Polish Army naturally did not look favorably upon the Free Russian Army, and the gaze of General Anders, a hardline Polish nationalist, was even more so.
Field Marshal Kluge seemed to ponder for a moment before answering.
“We were in a crisis, and it was an unavoidable situation.”
Anders fell silent, his face showing his dissatisfaction.
“Understood.
Please watch your step.”
After his conversation with Anders, Field Marshal Kluge headed outside.
As he was leaving the Polish camp, he saw a Polish female sergeant who, while heartily eating her meal, grinned at him and gave a two-finger Polish salute. He returned her salute.
After walking for a while longer, the sight of the white, blue, and red Tricolore of the Russian Republic fluttering in the urban area came into view.
Field Marshal Kluge watched the Free Russian Army, which had so boldly hoisted its national flag, with a worried look.
With the front collapsing in an instant and Army Group North breaking, the defense line had been pushed back all the way to Minsk.
Minsk, in particular, had a large population of ethnic Russians, so the Free Russian Army had been maintaining public security.
When the urban warfare broke out, they had naturally joined the battle.
To be precise, it was more accurate to say they were swept up in the fighting rather than having joined it, but the result was that the Free Russian Army had entered the war in this battle.
At a time when the total Allied forces in Minsk numbered less than 500,000, the contribution of the 100,000 troops of the Free Russian Army, who were responsible for maintaining public security in the Minsk region, was undeniable.
It had been a precarious battle where Minsk might have fallen without their help, and it was Kluge himself who had approved Andrey Vlasov’s request for supplies during the fighting.
“The Minister of Defense has replied that he will respect the judgment Your Excellency the Field Marshal made in an emergency situation. Please do not worry too much.”
Friedrich Paulus spoke up, having noticed his superior's distress, but Field Marshal Kluge's expression remained stiff.
As they entered the Free Russian Army's sector, they could see Andrey Vlasov in the distance, in the middle of a speech.
“We, the Free Russian Army, are prepared to embark on a crusade of freedom to liberate our Fatherland from Stalin’s oppression and restore freedom to the Russian people! The entire world must be liberated from the threat of communism, and the Russian people yearn for it as well!”
The assembled war correspondents were quite deeply impressed by Vlasov's passionate speech.
Among the war correspondents, whose presence Dietrich Schacht had permitted to prevent Allied war crimes and to guarantee freedom of the press, were not a few who had come from foreign countries.
Vlasov looked specifically toward the war correspondents from America and spoke with the utmost conviction.
“With appropriate support, we can proudly serve as one of the pillars of the Allied Forces! We must tear down the bloody flag that flies over Moscow! Only that will bring an end to the Red Threat to the free world! We, the Free Russian Army, will fight to the death until that moment comes!”
A thunderous applause erupted.
The Free Russian Army was showing fanatical support for their leader, Andrey Vlasov.
War correspondents from Germany and all over the world were recording every moment, taking photographs.
Günther von Kluge watched the scene silently for a moment, then muttered quietly.
“I might have made a mistake.”
-
September 30, 1941
Western Soviet Union, Vitebsk – Soviet Western Front Forces Headquarters
Despite a brutal, bloody battle with massive losses on both sides, the Soviet Union ultimately failed to capture Minsk before October rolled in.
And, little by little, rain began to fall across Russia.
At the start of the rainy season, which heralded the imminent arrival of the Rasputitsa, Ivan Konev was filled with a sense of despair.
In this battle, he had thrown a combined force of 4 million men at Belarus—his own direct command, the units that had crossed the east bank of the Dnieper River, and the troops he had received from Voroshilov and Budyonny.
To give Ivan Konev’s 4 million men their chance, the offensive launched across the entire front by crossing the Dnieper had already cost the Soviet Army a staggering 1 million casualties.
Yet, after throwing 4 million men into the meat grinder and piling up over a million corpses, all Konev had to show for his efforts was not the recapture of the entire Belarus theater, but only the riverside city of Mogilev.
And it wasn't just any 4 million men. He had received nearly half of the Soviet Union's remaining armored units, along with the relatively intact forces of Voroshilov and Budyonny, and this was all he had achieved.
Konev, for his part, was not without excuses. The vast plains that served as the battlefield were relatively easy to advance across, but even so, it was impossible to launch a simultaneous offensive with 4 million men given the Soviet Union's poor railroad network and supply system.
Ultimately, it had to take the form of a piecemeal commitment, and the Luftwaffe’s ferocious bombardment, unfolding as if they had anticipated it, further hindered the concentration of the Soviet offensive.
And Günther von Kluge had quickly resolved the initial chaos of the surprise attack, reorganized his forces, and defended Minsk and Bobruisk.
Anyone could see that this operation had failed the moment they couldn't capture the key strongpoints in Belarus, Minsk and Bobruisk.
The enemy reinforcements led by Hans-Valentin Hube had unilaterally smashed through the thin encirclement Konev had formed around Minsk and were now on the city's doorstep.
“C-Comrade General. Would it be difficult to get even a little more support?”
Ivan Konev asked desperately, but Zhukov's reply from the other end of the telephone was cold.
-We have already entrusted much to you, Comrade, and the offensive has failed.
Konev felt a cold sweat run down his spine.
-The Rasputitsa will begin soon, and we have lost the spare capacity to tie down the German Army any longer. I regret to say it, Comrade, but how about you withdraw to Vitebsk?
He could still retreat now.
Although he would have to give up the territory gained in the offensive, he could reorganize his forces if he pulled back before the roads were blocked by the Rasputitsa.
But if he did that, Ivan Konev would be finished.
Having suffered nearly 2 million more casualties, it was obvious someone would be needed as a scapegoat if there were no results to show for it.
“That is impossible, Comrade General.
The Comrade General Secretary has ordered us to defend the occupied territory no matter what.”
-What? You are supposed to be under my direct command, yet you reported directly to the Comrade General Secretary?
Zhukov’s voice sounded feigning rage.
“That is correct, Comrade General. The Comrade General Secretary has delegated full authority over this operation to me, and he wants results.”
-…I hope you won’t have cause to regret that choice. Remember this, Comrade.
The army you now hold is the last core strength of the Soviet Union.
The call with Zhukov ended there.
Ivan Konev, who had now completely alienated his superior, Zhukov, felt an inner unease, but the relationship between him and Zhukov couldn't be called good even as an empty pleasantry anyway.
Besides, Zhukov had no more support to give.
This offensive was, in the end, pushed by the General Secretary, an operation carried out with the immense authority he had granted.
The General Secretary must know full well that if he wanted to advertise that the Soviet Union had won by catching the Allied Forces off guard, he had to maintain at least the current front line, which could threaten Minsk and Bobruisk.
This was an offensive launched by squeezing out the last dregs of the Soviet Union’s already exhausted capacity, an offensive aimed at a strongpoint with no strategic value, solely to show that the Union could still win the war.
Since this offensive had been carried out against Zhukov's opposition and at the General Secretary's insistence, Stalin himself must know that this was no longer a situation that could be resolved simply by purging Konev.
Konev picked up the telephone again with an anxious face.
Now that it had come to this, he had no choice but to ask Marshals Voroshilov and Budyonny for even a few more troops.
An offensive launched for purely political purposes, and the situation of having to defend occupied territory with more bloodshed just to prove that the offensive had achieved something.
Ironically, the situation of the Soviet Union was strikingly similar to the Battle of Brunete, which had been fought in Spain to draw out that very same Union's support.
-
September 30, 1941
Central Belarus, Bobruisk
Georgy Zhukov, who had planned this operation, had seen his intentions half-realized.
The General Secretary had gone all-in, seeing a plausible operation plan, despite the opposition of his headquarters.
While 1 million casualties were not a small loss for the Front Army, those units were at rock bottom in terms of training, equipment, and morale, barely managing to hold on.
In contrast, the elite forces of Marshals Voroshilov and Budyonny, which were smaller in number than the Front Army, played a key role in Konev’s offensive and suffered considerable damage.
Andropov's prediction that this one blow would not be enough to destroy the Allied Forces, and that they would suffer even greater losses by being unable to easily abandon an offensive already carrying immense political burdens, had also been spot-on.
Since Ivan Konev could no longer back out, he and the politically entangled General Secretary decided to defend the line.
However, Zhukov and his comrades predicted that Ivan Konev would eventually be defeated.
The losses incurred in that process would be painful for the Union, but it was considered a necessary sacrifice to oust Konev, the most Stalin-loyal of the front commanders, and to corner the General Secretary.
However, there was no one in the Soviet Union who knew that the very person who would cause an incident that none of them could have even imagined was just about to depart from Bobruisk.
“Colonel General Hans-Valentin Hube’s unit will soon be joining up with Minsk.”
“Hmm.”
Colonel General Walter Model, who had frantically unloaded his equipment and completed preparations for his armored unit to set out the moment he arrived in Bobruisk, nodded as he looked at the operation map.
“Then, let’s close this gap.”
And then, shrrk—
He drew a vertical line straight up the map with his pen.
The staff officer who saw this turned pale.
“G-General, sir? This is…”
“Are you scared?”
“N-No, sir.
But if we do this, there's a risk that we could be encircled ourselves…”
“Guderian's and Rommel’s units will be arriving sequentially, and the Rasputitsa will be here soon. If we can just hold out until then, the enemy will be completely cut in two.”
Walter Model grinned at his staff officer, who was swallowing nervously.
“Then let’s go! Time to remodel the front!”