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Authors: John Schettler

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Hitler
took a deep breath. “First things first, gentlemen,” he said at last. “General
Halder, you may order Guderian to Orel as planned, and I agree that Hoth’s 3rd
Panzer Group should reinforce this attack. General von Manstein. Cross the Donets
as you please, and be sure that you have handed me Kharkov before you turn
east. Clear? Then, with that city in hand, I will look at the situation again
and we will continue this discussion. In the meantime, dinner is waiting, and I
am famished!”

 

*

 

It
would not be as easy as the generals made it sound to suit
the Führer’s mood. Manstein would order Steiner over the Donets, and he would
cross it as easily as he had bulled his way across the Dnieper at the bend of
that mighty river. The crossing was made right where Manstein’s baton had
fallen on the map, between Izyum and Balakleya. Then Hitler’s proviso would
come in to effect—the necessity of securing and delivering Kharkov prior to
mounting any major drive to the east as Manstein desired. To this end, he
directed Steiner to push north, while the tough units of Grossdeutschland and
the Brandenburg Division moved to encircle Kharkov from the east. In this they
were well supported by the Wiking SS Division, feeling the opposition here to
be much easier than they had encountered in Syria.

“At
least the Russians haven’t got tanks like the British we fought there, the men
would say. This work is easy!”

But
that was all about to change.

 

Chapter 26

Kirov
was pacing in the Kremlin very late that day, as the cold
winter snows settled over Moscow. News from the front was most discouraging,
and his intelligence chief, Berzin, stood there, hat in hand, a dejected look
on his face. He was the bearer of bad news that night, and much sooner than any
had expected.

“They
pushed through the Isthmus of Perekop,” he said solemnly, referring to the
narrow gateway to the Crimea. “The siege of Sevastopol will follow soon, and
two months ahead of schedule.”

“I still
have hope that we can hold the Crimea a good long while,” said Kirov. “It took
the Germans all of eight months to take Sevastopol, at least according to the
material. So maybe we will hold out there.”

“It was
never our plan to hold there for very long,” said Berzin. “Yet if it falls, the
Black Sea fleet is out of business. We have no friendly port left except
Novorossiysk in the Caucasus, and if we lose Sevastopol, that will be their
next objective.”

“Will
the Germans attempt a crossing at Kerch? Are they planning to attack the Taman
Peninsula?”

“We’ve
observed a buildup of artillery in that direction, but the main drive is south
towards Sevastopol. Frankly, I don’t think the Germans have adequate shipping
in the Black Sea yet for a crossing at Kerch, and Volkov has been too cautious
to venture out from his ports on the Georgian coast. They will also need
Sevastopol to supply any troops they plan to move across. The other harbors are
simply too small.”

“Then
what will they do?”

“Take
the port, of course, yet they are not using all of their 17th Army. Most of
those troops have moved to the Donets Basin defense line for the attack on
Rostov, if that is what they are planning next.”

“You
mean to say you do not know? My intelligence Chief is remiss tonight. Too much
vodka at dinner?”

Berzin
smiled, for Kirov knew he never drank before a briefing, wanting to be clear
headed and sharp at all times when vital strategy might be discussed there in
the Red Archives. The wan light illuminated his wide forehead, beneath the
brush like flat top hair, his thick neck and rough features giving him a tough,
formidable aspect. And now those chiseled features were drawn and grim, the
seriousness of the situation weighing heavily on him as well.

“We’ve
detected no signals or any firm orders for the 17th Army,” he said, “but I
think it is likely that they will move as I suggest. The SS have not moved
south as we expected. They used that group to force a crossing of the Donets,
east of Kharkov.”

“An
envelopment operation?”

“Perhaps,
but no real threat has built up to the south, or west on the other side of the
city. They moved up a few infantry divisions, but they are digging in.”

“Then
the SS will attempt to link up with that penetration Volkov has forced over the
Volga north of Volgograd.”

“A
possibility. Either that, or this is a planned envelopment of Kharkov as it now
seems. But a good portion of that Corps is now pushing north and slightly east.”

“Can we
stop them?”

“We’ve
sent everything we could find there to try—reserves from the Trans-Caucasus
District, the Southern Front, and STAVKA Reserve. All our plans for an
offensive on the Upper Volga are on hold now.”

“Karpov
was not too happy to hear that,” said Kirov with a wag of his finger. “He was
eager for that offensive to begin, but agreed to hold the line so we could pull
troops out for deployment elsewhere.”

“Yes,
well that makes three armies we’ve taken off the Volkov Front now. Any further
offensive there is out of the question this year, except at Maykop in the
south. That’s the only good news I can bring you today. We’ve got the oil
fields, and hopefully we’ll have the city before nightfall.”

“At
last,” said Kirov, “though we’re too late. By the time we get trucks down there
to haul the oil, the Germans may be hammering at the Rostov Gate. The only good
that will do us now is to possibly convince the Kuban tribes to join with us.
We could raise a good number of divisions there.”

“Possibly,”
said Berzin, “Yet if Rostov falls, that will cut off all our forces in the
Kuban, and all those new recruits along with them. That’s twenty-eight rifle
divisions, four cavalry divisions, and ten independent brigades. The ten
divisions defending at Rostov with the newly reconstituted 9th Army will also
be in that cauldron, and if we don’t act quickly, you can add all our troops on
the Elista front as well—another ten divisions there.”

“Over
fifty divisions…” Kirov pinched the bridge of his nose. “Can we get them out?”

“We’ve
taken Salsk, and cleared the rail lines for exactly this option. If Rostov
Falls, the Kuban front will have to withdraw over the Manych, and it will be a
difficult crossing. There is one bridge and one fordable area we could use, and
after that, two more rivers to cross if they are to get to the bridge over the
Don at Tsimlyanskaya. That is presently the headquarters location for the Trans-Caucasus
Front.”

“It
sounds impossible,” said Kirov, shaking his head again. “It’s that damnable SS
Corps. They’ve been unstoppable, and these were divisions that were not
supposed to have reached full strength this early in the war.”

“Clearly
the material is no longer reliable,” said Berzin, referring to the secret cache
of documents Kirov had hidden there on the future course of history. “And to
make matters worse, Volkov has reinforced his Volga bridgehead again. He’s
bringing up reserves from Kazakhstan.

“You
told me those troops was still at Astrakhan a week ago!” said Kirov, obviously
upset by this news.

“They
moved,” said Berzin. “He was very sly this time. We had good men watching all
the rail depots to report on any movements, but nothing went by rail. He moved
his men over secondary roads, well south of those depots, right through the
wasteland.”

“That
cost him a lot of fuel.”

“He has
far more than he will ever need,” said Berzin, stating the obvious. “Now we
think he may be planning to relieve the 4th Army south of the city. Then he
could swing those troops up to reinforce his bridgehead north of the city and
possibly renew that attack.”

“What
have we done to counter?”

“There
isn’t much we can send now,” said Berzin. “Everything has been pulled into the
fight for Smolensk, Kirov, and Bryansk. Zhukov sent all the troops we pulled
from the upper Volga, but they don’t have the strength to mount a strong
counterattack to try and cut that salient off. A single rifle division and four
brigades that went by rail just reached Frolovo north of the Don. They
encountered Volkov’s Armored Cavalry there as they detrained.”

“They’ve
penetrated that far?”

“I’m
afraid so, sir. It’s clear what their next move will be. That SS Korps can mount
a thrust towards the Don, and Volkov will attempt to cross again and meet them
when he reinforces that sector.”

“We
stopped him once,” said Kirov, a harried look on his face. “We’ll stop him
again.”

“Unfortunately,
we pulled so many divisions off to face the Germans, that stopping him this
time will not be easy, if it will even be possible at all. We’ve already sent
all three divisions of the Volga Rifle Corps from the city. If the Germans do
turn east now, we could soon be looking at a double encirclement, and the
entire Volga Front in the bag with the Kuban Front, there are twenty divisions
in the immediate vicinity of the city itself.”

“And
that is where they will stand and fight,” said Kirov. “We do not give up
Volgograd, by god. We’ve held Volkov off for fifteen years there, and he’s not
getting his grubby hands on it now either.”

“Unfortunately,”
said Berzin, “the Germans may soon have something to say about that. For the
moment, our strategy of fighting for the major cities seems to be working as planned.
Their Wiking Division has moved north of the Donets, and now it has turned west
to threaten Kharkov.

“It’s
clear what they are planning,” said Kirov. “They do not want to leave Kharkov
in our hands if they turn east to try to link up with Volkov’s Don crossing
operation. So we must hold that city as long as possible. How many divisions do
we have there?

“Twelve.”

“And
here we thought the main threat would be in the south, through Rostov.”

“That
may still happen,” said Berzin. “Yet at the moment, the threat of this wider
envelopment could cut off our entire southern front—the Kuban, Trans-Caucasus,
and the Volga fronts will all be trapped in a vast encirclement—seventy-five
divisions.”

“If
they stand their ground and fight?”

“That
has not worked out so well for troops we can no longer supply. They will be
limited to stocks on hand, and when the ammunition and fuel run out…”

“How
long?” said Kirov. “Could they hold out until spring?”

“I
doubt it.”

“The
German 6th Army held out for months when they were encircled,” Kirov protested.
“You’ve read the material.”

“Yes,
I’ve read it many times, but that isn’t happening now. It’s
our
troops
that will be cut off defending Volgograd, with Volkov on one side and the damn
Germans on the other. We could hope our boys would do as well, but most
encirclements occurring in 1941 were disasters, which is why we tried so hard
to avoid them. If this happens, we’ll lose all those troops and equipment, half
a million men, and then we’ll have to find another half million to rebuild a
new defensive line in the south.”

“We
can’t do that yet,” said Kirov, an exasperated look on his face. “It’s all we
can do now to keep enough troops on the line in the north between Smolensk and
Bryansk.”

“Karpov
kept his word and sent us the troops we needed,” said Berzin, “That army he
sent, the 24th, has stopped the German push to bypass Smolensk to the south.
They were breaking through to the Kirov line, and those men saved the day.

“That
is because they have been fighting Volkov for the last six months between Omsk
and the Ob river line. That was Karpov’s personal little army. Once things got
heated up here, Volkov’s operations against Siberia evaporated. He’s moved
everything against us so he could force that crossing north of Volgograd!”

“The Siberians
are fighting well,” said Berzin. “They blunted that attempt to break through to
our Kirov defense line, but now their major thrust has shifted further east,
with Guderian’s group.” He was referring to the recent attack aimed at a big
salient the German 2nd
Panzergruppe
had pushed east of Bryansk as it
attempted a wide envelopment of that city. Now that attack was approaching
Orel, flowing into a massive hole in the center of the front that now stretched
all the way to Tula to the north. The Germans had been pushing out patrols, yet
found little opposition as they approached Orel. The situation was quickly
leading to yet another encirclement of the major industrial centers at Bryansk
and the city named for Kirov to the north.

“We
can’t close that gap for some time,” said Berzin. “We have three Armies forming
behind Ryazan, but they won’t be ready to move for several weeks.”

“Well
what more do they need, printed invitation cards? Send orders that they are to
prepare for transit at once, and get rolling stock up there. In the meantime,
we’ll just have to hold the cities as long as possible. They are well
fortified.”

“The
material clearly showed us what happened to the troops trying to hold Bryansk,”
said Berzin. “It’s happening again, sir. All the road and rail connections to
that city have nearly been cut. We have 15 divisions there, and have even
press-ganged bridging units and railroad workers into the defense. The Germans
are about to close that trap.

“Then
send the Airborne Corps.”

“From
here? That was our fire brigade, sir. The only air mobile trained force we
have.”

“Yes?
Well this is the fire.”

“But we
have no rolling stock available to get them there.”

“Then
they go by plane. That’s what they damn well trained for, isn’t it. Drop them
here.” Kirov pointed to an area northeast of Bryansk. “They will dig in and
stop that envelopment. If we can keep one or two roads open, the city might
hold.”

“As you
wish, sir, but we will most likely find they simply join the cauldron the
Germans have formed around this whole area. If not for the 24th Siberian Army,
they would also add the city of Kirov to that cache.”

“Damn,”
said Kirov. “The Germans would love to announce they’ve taken the biggest city
in the nation bearing my name, but that isn’t what worries me now. It’s the
threat to Moscow this all represents, and it is shaping up much sooner than we
thought.”

“We’re
still holding near Smolensk, sir,” Berzin offered, one more small bit of good
news on this very gloomy morning.”

“Yes,”
said Kirov. “We are holding near Smolensk, and thank God that Karpov’s boys
stopped the Germans push south of the city, or they would have gone all the way
to Vyazma! That is only 200 kilometers from the outer defense of this very
city—Moscow! And do you know what I have here to hold the capital? Beyond the
militia divisions on the outer defensive ring, we have virtually nothing—three
to five divisions at the most. We need the Siberians. Are more troops coming?”

BOOK: Nemesis
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