Armin Scheiderbauer - Adventures in My Youth

The knowledge that I was back in the main frontline again gave me the old familiar feeling of security. Once again I knew that whoever came from the front could only be the enemy. The dangers there were at their greatest and were ongoing, the physical exertions always at the limit of what we could bear. But to compensate there was no more fear of surprise attacks. On my motorbike I was travelling long distances, as orderly officer, behind the main lines through the forest. Once a couple of Russians emerged from the wood. That was an unpleasant surprise that for a moment left me not knowing what to do. But on the other hand when the enemy attacked from the front, overran the positions or broke through during the night with an assault unit, those were events for which I was always braced.

Now and again an exception to the turbulence of the retreat confirmed my rule. For example, when scattered units broke through to the west and reached our lines. On 13 July we were in position along a line in which a railway embankment crossed the main line of resistance. A Feldwebel and three men came along the embankment. It turned out that they belonged to the troops guarding an Army supply dump and their paymaster had let them retreat without orders. The supply dump, of course, had not been evacuated, for which the men, happily returning from there, got an earful from my men.

During the march the next night there were two stops. The reason for the first was a ditch into which one of the 15-ton tractors of the heavy artillery had skidded. The huge vehicle, however, was able to pull itself out of the mud as there was a firm enough tree close by, round which the steel cable from the built-in windlass could be secured. The second halt occurred towards morning. A grenadier on the march keeled over and declared that he could not march any further. Since neither vehicles nor horses were available on which he could sit, it was hard to know what to do. After a five minutes breather, we divided his pack, including belt, steel helmet, and rifle, among ourselves. With the admonition ‘think of your old woman, mate’, two men grabbed him under the shoulders, and put him on his feet between them. Supported in that way, we continued the march. After a while he managed on his own again. When we arrived in the new main line of resistance he thanked us for not having left him behind. That too was without infantry!

Scarcely had I settled in, or rather ‘run in’, again as company commander than I had to go back to the regiment. I had been lucky. In those three days the enemy had not been pushing up behind us so strongly as to cause skirmishes. But replacement officers had arrived. The Major wanted me, whom he already knew, rather than a new Leutnant as orderly officer with the regiment. Scarcely was I there than the enemy attacked. One of the first to be brought back was Herr Husenett. I say Herr , because in the German Wehrmacht there was a regulation that officers basically were per Sie among themselves, i.e. the formal form of address, and within the different ranks addressed each other with Herr and their surname. To some one you did not know, say on the railway, you said ‘ Herr Kamerad’ .

Herr Husenett had been wounded in the lungs. The young man who had been so kind to me, was at most only two years older. His usually fresh face was pale and yellowish. But he easily survived the wound, one of many, and soon returned to the regiment. In October he received the Knight’s Cross, and was also decorated with the Goldener Nahkampfspange i.e. the golden close-combat clasp, and the Goldener Verwundetenabzeichen i.e. the golden wound badge. In 1945 he was killed in action

During the evening we took up quarters in a country house of aristocratic design. The assault guns remained at the regimental command post. Their crews, who were not used to spending nights so far forward, dug foxholes for themselves, over which they placed their vehicles. In that way they could be doubly certain, so to speak, of being able to sleep.

The next day we stopped in the still fairly well preserved German positions from the First World War. We even found concreted cellars, although they were naturally fairly overgrown. The Ostwall was an excellently built and deeply ramified defensive position, by which the enemy offensive should be contained. But, like so many rumours, it proved to be bogus. The fact that that campaign in the East had been won by our fathers and had been concluded with a peace was a thought that forced itself upon us. In the First World War they had only penetrated a few hundred kilometres into enemy territory, whereas we had almost got as far as Moscow and there was still no question of peace.

It seemed rather that we would have to keep on retreating. Because our retreat rolled rapidly back, often the few connections between east and west were heavily congested. Sometimes it needed longer stops and furious disagreements to clear the way for one’s own column. It was still only a question of combat units and smaller baggage-trains who argued over their relative rank. The large baggage-trains had arrived days ago in Marianpol close to the Reich border.

To try to relieve the pressure of the pursuing enemy, on 15 July aircraft were sent in. Despite the fact that we had laid out the orange coloured recognition cloths and red swastika banners, they hit our columns. Among the wounded was the VW Kübelwagen driver from the Staff. So Leutnant Kruger, the first orderly officer, whom the Major sent off to the large baggage-train drove the vehicle. It was not exactly a ‘genteel’ occupation for an orderly officer, but it was good to have the baggage- train led by an energetic officer. Garn said he could manage with me alone.

In the evening came the report that Hauptmann Gräbsch had been killed. He had only just taken over command of the 2nd Battalion after Herr Husenett had been wounded. When he took over command of the battalion I realised that within himself he had felt some reluctance for the job. I knew then that he must have had a premonition of his death. I regretted my unkind thoughts about him. He had been a master optician from Beuthen in Upper Silesia, a brave officer and he certainly possessed many good qualities. After his death came the news that for action at the Ulla bridge he had received the Knight’s Cross. De mortuis nil nisi bene .

I add a touching detail from the time of the retreat. The foals of the draught horses on the march with us, clung to their mothers, suckling as they walked. It was a sad sight. On 17 July we were removed from the command of the Corps Detachment and returned to the command of our own Division. The Divisional Adjutant, Major Östreich, was waiting for us at the edge of the village of Swenzoniai like a father waiting for his lost sons.

Sitting on a garden seat outside a house, rather like Napoleon III with Bismarck at Donchéry, he told us of the situation. It was the intention of the divisional commander to reform the 2nd Battalion of Grenadierregiment 472, whose adjutant I was. If successful he said, the Division would again have command of more than one infantry regiment. We should no longer need to fear the ‘bogey-man’ of staffs, whose troops have been wiped out. We would not be used to top-up other troop units. To me personally Major Östreich made the remarkable announcement that I had been ‘posted as killed’. I was not left speechless, as I happened to be in a cheerful mood. But I thought with some concern about Schweidnitz and my parents and the fact that the news could possibly have reached Gisela by some circuitous route.

The next day, 18 July, I drove with Major von Garn to receive our orders at the divisional command post. It was likely that, for 48 hours, it would be located in an unostentatious castle that had formerly been the summer residence of the Lithuanian State President. The white painted building, shining in the sun, was set quite formally in the quiet countryside by Lake Lenas. While Garn was with General Meltzer, I dropped into an oversized leather armchair, in the spacious hall, laid my head against the bulging back and stretched out my legs.