Tony Le Tissier - With Our Backs to Berlin

While the real military police were handing these ‘stragglers’ over to us to feed into our front positions, these young policemen were briefly asking: ‘Where are you going? Where do you come from?’ Whoever was unable to give a thoroughly satisfactory explanation was being shot out of hand.

We had no intention of doing such a thing. When I say ‘we’, I refer to my battalion commander, who was in charge here. As was his way, he was doing nothing about the coming and going of the numerous ‘stragglers’, who could only be described as ‘stragglers’ because they did not want to fight any more. These people lived in the tunnels and only emerged when driven out by hunger or thirst, when they would try to meet their needs in the S-Bahn stations.

Now when one of my men stormed up to me and angrily reported what these military police were up to, I went down with my NCOs. We disarmed them and gave them a dressing down. What could we do with these kids? Shoot them? Of course I could understand that it galled them that most of the soldiers no longer wanted to fight. I felt the same. But they did not have the motto on their belt buckles like us. [49]So I chased the four boys away and shouted after them: ‘Don’t let me see you here again!’

They looked at me as if they could not understand me or the world any more. But it was no use, for our paths crossed again the next day. Having come from an area already occupied by the Russians, they did not know where to go, and promised to behave, but I had to stress to them that my orders were sacred and must be carried out instantly and zealously. I did not give them their weapons back, but there were plenty lying around that those tired of war had thrown away, so they were soon able to rearm themselves.

However, what pleased me was that we were immediately taken on the ration strength, including my supply train, which had not previously been the case. Until now we had only been on stand-by or fighting. What kind of leaders were these that never thought that their men had to be looked after! While I helped myself shamelessly to the battalion commander’s standing table of sandwiches, my men carried their share into their S-Bahn carriage.

Now the real military police started combing through the tunnels and bringing the ‘stragglers’ to us to be fed into our front line trenches.

Then the battalion commander came to me and said: ‘You only have two mortars now, apart from the rockets, of which you have not fired one. You are hardly overloaded.’

Not knowing what SS-Captain Schäfer wanted of me, I said: ‘Then send me forward, and if you are short of a company commander, I will gladly take over, even a platoon will do for me. That would suit me much better than this job here.’

‘Oh no!’ said Schäfer, ‘since your rocket action at the Jannowitz Bridge you have become a well known and respected person. I would be in trouble if I took you away from your post, which was not what I meant. Apart from this, between ourselves, the adjutant has brought back from the Reichs Chancellery the news that you are to get the Knight’s Cross for that action, and also be promoted for your bravery.’

‘And what happens then?’ I wanted to know. ‘Come on, spill the beans! Every day I have to take the stragglers rounded up by the military police forward to the various company commanders. Even though there are officers going about without proper jobs, a sergeant major has to be detailed as Duty Officer!’

Schäfer thought about this and then said: ‘If it hots up outside, these administrative types will be formed into a shock troop, something they have never done before. There are none among them that can replace you, so I will continue to pass on the stragglers to you to fill the holes in the front line.’

So I handed over the command to my senior NCO and set off with the stragglers.

Early on 25 April our regimental commander came to Potsdamer Platz wanting to speak to SS-Captain Schäfer. With him was his liaison officer, SS-Second Lieutenant Triebes and his driver, SS-Corporal Masbender. They left their staff car up on the square.

When he saw our rockets stacked around and some we were setting up ready for action, he came up to me. I reported to him and he began talking to me about our Alexanderplatz-Schlessischer Station operation, congratulating me. I did not approve of the Mrugalla’s battalion operation and told him so. When it came to the Russians and the unguarded bridges in the city centre, I said that heads should roll. He gave no indication of how much he knew of Mrugalla’s action or of whether he approved, for a regimental commander does not have to explain his thoughts and plans to a mere platoon commander, but I could see that I had caught his attention.

He was impatient and ordered me to accompany him immediately to Alexanderplatz to clarify my accusations. This set my ears burning for having opened my mouth so freely. When commanders argue among themselves, sergeant majors are likely to end up crushed between the millstones. However, I had to follow Anhalt, who did not even go down to see Schäfer, for everything was quiet here. I gave my deputy a wave to indicate that I was going off with Anhalt and hastened after him. I sat down in the rear seat next to SS-Second Lieutenant Triebes.

What neither I nor my regimental commander realised was that the Russians now had the heavy siege artillery ready to fire on the city centre. They would not need many targets, as they could not miss in the city centre. Each shot would be a direct hit, whether on German soldiers or innocent civilians. The buildings would collapse like houses of cards, the roofs of the S-Bahn and U-Bahn tunnels would be broken and numerous people killed by these super shells.

Meanwhile we drove via Hermann-Göring-Strasse, past the Brandenburg Gate, which was barricaded up so that we could not pass through, and stopped in Kleine Mauerstrasse between the Unter den Linden and Behrenstrasse, as Anhalt did not want to travel so openly to Alexanderplatz when the shells started landing. I too was happier on foot and going through tunnels, as it had become very risky. So I left them and went ahead to warn Mrugalla of our arrival.

When we got to the Police Presidium, the adjutant sent off a runner to get Mrugalla. As the others failed to appear, I went back to see what had happened to them.

I found Anhalt lying at the place where I had left him. A large shell splinter had penetrated his lungs from behind, killing him. His escort seemed to have disappeared.

Instinctively, I removed his papers, decorations, etc. and went off to get a stretcher and assistance, as one cannot leave an SS-Colonel lying around like a simple soldier. So I ran back under shell fire to the Police Presidium and got two men and a stretcher, but when I returned both Anhalt and his staff car had gone.

I returned to the Police Presidium and reported to SS-Captain Mrugalla, who had arrived in the meantime, and told him that now one of the two battalion commanders would have to take over command of the regiment. I also gave him Anhalt’s effects.

There was nothing else for me to do there, so I set off back, but via the Villa Goebbels in order to clarify the matter of Anhalt’s death.

I discovered that Anhalt had already been buried in the garden. The two escorts had already left, presumably to the Reichs Chancellery to collect SS-Major Wahl, who was now our regimental commander.

Wahl had a completely different background to the two battalion commanders, for he had been a unit commander and holder of the Knight’s Cross in the 5th SS-Panzer Division ‘Viking’, but I did not know him myself. However, it was through this change in commanding officers that my promotion and award of the Knight’s Cross fell through, not that it bothered me.