Peter Idone - Red Vengeance

Voss exhaled a sigh that drained the frustrations, hardships, and even the anger that had accumulated over the past weeks. These were expected, needed words to hear; finally, the hopes of thousands of men fulfilled.

“Quite a number were there, including some of the staff from the Twenty-Third and Fretter-Pico’s Thirtieth Corps. I saw more than a few battle-hardened officers weep with gratitude when they heard the news. There is no other alternative open for us. Not without reinforcement, and that’s not to be had. The field marshal has understood all along what needed to be done, only it took some time for Berlin to accede to the reality of the situation. Well, there is no denying the reality any longer.”

Voss agreed and asked how they would proceed next.

“As you know, division has set up headquarters at Zaporozhye. The Combat Group will fall back to form part of a defensive ring east of the city as part of General Heinrici’s Panzer Corps. Exact details of the plan will be issued later.”

Zaporozhye played a pivotal strategic role, Voss knew. The enormous dam and power stations supplied electricity for the industrial and mining centers throughout the western Ukraine. During the Wehrmacht’s advance in ’41, the Soviets had sabotaged the dam before retreating further to the east. German engineers were required to spend a great amount of time bringing the facilities back online; even now, the electrical output capacity had yet to be fully restored. Zaporozhye was a prize the Fuehrer would not allow to be lost.

“Colonel Hahn gave the briefing,” Griem continued. “I imagine he wanted to be the one to convey some good news for a change, after so many months of sending us out on fire brigade duties. All orders concerning the strategic withdrawal will devolve from the respective Army headquarters, First Panzer, Sixth, Eighth, etcetera, and will coordinate with Army Group command. All strategic forces are to remain intact and cohesion maintained. ‘Grave risks will be undertaken. Difficult orders carried out. More sacrifices will be asked of you and your men to achieve this goal,’ to quote the Colonel.”

As always , Voss thought, only now the stakes are that much higher . Griem slipped a hand into the pocket of his field tunic, brought out a piece of paper, and gave it to Voss. “Your new orders.” it was too dark to read; Voss went for the flashlight clipped to his epaulette, but Griem stopped him. “I know what it says. You and your crew are to report to Reconnaissance Group Falkenstein and assist in all matters pertaining to the captain’s ongoing operation until further notice. Signed by Colonel Hahn.”

Voss was taken by complete surprise and did not know how to react.

“You must have made quite an impression on the captain.”

“It’s unfortunate I wasted precious fuel on the way back here. The captain should have held onto me while I was still in his possession.”

“You were needed here and still are. It was a last-minute decision on the colonel’s part. He was being pressured but did not confide as to by whom. I protested, vigorously, to the point where he almost told me to shut up. I went so far as to say the order negated the theme spelled out in the briefing that all strategic forces were to remain intact. I don’t much care to loan out men or needed transport, especially under present circumstances, but the colonel wouldn’t relent. He was of the opinion you would be of greater value at the captain’s side.”

“Did the colonel mention the specifics regarding Captain Falkenstein’s operation?”

“He did.”

“Would you care to relate any conclusions drawn from that knowledge?”

Griem allowed a long silence to pass. Finally, he said, “I believe the captain’s efforts will be seriously hampered by the retreat. He will be required to make for the river along with the rest of us. Material shortages, not to mention the Russians, will see to that.”

“I meant regarding the captain’s pursuit of Red Vengeance. Do you think the operation has any merit?”

“I am in no position to judge. There are a number of high-ranking officers who believe the mission is worthwhile. Hoth, Von Vormann, and Von Mackensen, to name but a few. I’ve heard the rumors as, no doubt, you have also. Perhaps something of a morale issue is at stake here, I don’t know. Use the same manner of professionalism you have illustrated to me and get the matter over with. Falkenstein is damned lucky to have you.”

“Thank you, Captain.” The words did not bolster Voss as much as he would have liked.

“Just remember, above all else, I expect you to report back to the battalion with your crew and this vehicle in operational condition. Is that clear, Lieutenant?”

Voss could not see Griem’s face, but he sensed he was smiling. “That is an order I will carry out with pleasure, sir.”

“Get on the move before sunrise. There is no telling what the situation will be like, now that the retreat is in effect.” He stood up and clasped Voss’s hand. “Until we meet again, Lieutenant.”

Yes , thought Voss, with any luck, God willing, we will meet again by the river or someplace in between .

The kolkhoz was a scene of utter commotion when the Hanomag arrived. Staff cars were heaped with officers’ luggage; lorries and wagons were loaded with supplies and equipment. By the look of many of the articles to be carted away—oriental rugs, samovars, furniture, and religious icons in gilded frames—it appeared the rear area personnel managed to get their hands on more than a few valuables. They had been busy since the evacuation from the Don Bas. The peasants were being forced to leave. Scenes were occurring, some nasty and brutal, as order police forcibly evicted the more recalcitrant occupants who did not want to surrender their homes.

Hartmann parked the vehicle at the rear of Lieutenant Gottfried’s billet. The American-made truck was nowhere in sight, but several grenadiers, appearing clean and groomed, lounged in the shade by the back door. Voss wasted no time and went immediately to the cottage. When he entered, Falkenstein was on the field telephone and beckoned him to the table where he sat. A large map lay open, illustrating the operational theater of the Army Group from the Sea of Azov in the south and as far north as the boundary with Army Group Center. A line had been drawn with charcoal pencil, indicating the Armies’ latest defensive positions. If the map was accurate, over one hundred kilometers separated the front from the great river to the west.

“Very well. Keep me informed.” Falkenstein hung up the receiver and looked at Voss. “Lieutenant Gottfried is trying to maintain some lines of communication until the last possible moment. Thank you for coming, Lieutenant.”

“I’ll do my best, sir,” Voss replied.

“I have no doubt that you will. Now, allow me to brief you on the situation, as I understand it so far, and the part we will play.” Falkenstein stood up and leaned over the map. “First Panzer Army will fall back to the bridges at Dnepropetrovsk and Zaporozhye. Eighth Army intends to cross at Kremenchug and Cherkassy. General Hoth’s Fourth Panzer Army will make for the bridge at Kanev, establish the defense of Kiev, and link at the junction with Army Group Center further to the north.”

Voss tried to imagine the scope of such a daunting task. Nearly a million men and civilian employees of the Wehrmacht would have to withdraw from along a front line of over nine hundred kilometers. The armies in question had only six bridges available to cross and would then have to form a new front line of over seven hundred kilometers on the west bank of the Dniepr. This had to be accomplished in an orderly fashion, without panic, and under combat conditions as an enemy with a six-to-one ratio of superiority pursued them the entire way. Only the strategic genius of Field Marshal von Manstein would even consider such an audacious plan; whether a division general or a grenadier, this was the only option left if the Army Group was to survive and the southern half of the front hold. Voss prayed it wasn’t too late. “What of Sixth Army, captain?”