Another entry from the war diary of Fourth Panzer Army, dated February 3, concerned a raid on a battery of self-propelled assault guns positioned in defensive laager for the night. A T-34 swept in, past the picket lines of escort grenadiers, blasting a siren and activating a searchlight that picked out targets easily against the snow. The laager was hurled into tumult. Within moments, three self-propelled assault guns were destroyed with armor-piercing shot, and the fuel dump was set ablaze. Gun crews were cut down by machine gun as they attempted to climb into their vehicles. Every assault gun was either burning or damaged, and only one vehicle escaped in serviceable condition. The T-34 was Red Vengeance. The grenadiers who survived the assault swore that no sound produced by a diesel engine or track link noise was heard in anticipation of the tank’s approach. The vehicle simply appeared, out of nowhere, and with devastating effects. One grenadier remarked that just prior to the attack, he was nearly overcome by a sickening odor, “ … like an abattoir on a hot day.” The rankness permeated the senses and did not lift for some time (several other witnesses who survived the attack supported this. They claimed to have become nauseous from the smell).
By early February, Field Marshal von Manstein ordered a strategic withdrawal to the Mius River. Italian, Hungarian, and Romanian armies to the north had disintegrated as Soviet armored forces poured through the gaps in the line from Voroshilovgrad to as far as Belgorod. Despite the shortened front, German troops were spread thin. Understrength companies of infantry were required to hold sectors of several kilometers in length. Small combat groups received radio transmissions from even smaller patrols. Red Vengeance was on the loose… word of an attack… and then a cold silence would follow. Hearing the name would cause restlessness, even panic among the troops. When rumor spread that Red Vengeance had been sighted in the vicinity, entire platoons were known to break into a run. NCOs told their unit commanders who, in turn, informed regiment headquarters of the impact this tank had on the men’s morale. Reports filtered back to divisional staffs. The T-34 was referred to as the “phantom” or “ghost” tank. Other references included “the beast” or “Moloch.” Every company, platoon, and rifle squad seemed to have a pet name of its own. Panzer crews were beginning to get nervous over the prospects of having to engage this particular T-34. A reputation as an unstoppable killer had already taken root.
February 17, 1943, Soviet Armored Group Popov crossed the Donets River near Izyum, penetrated south to the rear of First Panzer Army, and captured Krasnoarmeyskoye. The Russian Sixth Army, bearing, ironically, the same number as Von Paulus’s army recently lost at Stalingrad, pushed toward the west and took Pavlograd, penetrating as far as the railroad junction at Sinelnikovo. The plan was to cut off the German southern armies and annihilate them before they could fall back to the Dniepr. This is what Stavka, the Red Army High Command, perceived as the only option left for Army Group South—a strategic retreat to the river. Cunningly, von Manstein allowed the Russian general staff to believe this, and then launched his counteroffensive that lasted from late February to mid-March. The results were nothing short of astounding. Hoth was given the task to stop the Russian Sixth Army, and with three panzer corps, he launched a pincer movement of its own. The Russians were encircled and mauled. Attempting a desperate retreat back across the Donets, the Russian Sixth lost over twenty-five thousand men and countless armored vehicles along the way.
Armored Group Popov fared no better. The XL Panzer Corps, including SS Viking, Seventh, and Eleventh Panzer divisions, severed the armored groups’ supply lines. Cut off and isolated, the Russians were hacked apart, piecemeal. Attention now shifted to the city of Kharkov, which was retaken by the Waffen SS Panzer Corps by March 15. The danger for von Manstein’s southern armies had been averted. A period of relative calm descended over the front. The raputitsa , the spring mud season, was about ready to hatch. The only task left to the Wehrmacht during this lull was to keep its vehicles from being completely submerged in the mud. There were no reports of sightings or incidents involving Red Vengeance during the counteroffensive or the weeks following. Considering the full scope of operations during that period, it was no wonder the tank had not reared up and drawn attention to itself. Some at Fourth Panzer Army staff were convinced the tank was destroyed during the Russian Sixth Army retreat or got caught up in Group Popov’s annihilation. That assumption was soon to change on the second of April, when Red Vengeance showed itself, if for no other purpose than as a reminder. The tank had not been destroyed during the counteroffensive but still lurked. Despite the success the Germans managed in averting disaster, however narrowly, a long war was still to be fought, and there was a force, some thought a power, that had yet to be reckoned with.
[Note: Since the recent introduction of the Tiger tank, the T-34 no longer holds the technological edge it has previously enjoyed. The Tiger’s heavily armored hull and powerful 88 mm gun surpasses all other armored fighting vehicles and is considered the most sophisticated in the world. The tank accommodates a five-man crew. When seated in the turret, the commander can survey the battlefield through a periscope or five separate viewing portals that can access a visual reference of 360 degrees. An intercom system provides instant communication to all crewmembers. The demand is placed on the T-34 to move in very close to be effective, which is difficult with the Tiger’s long-range armament. Scores of enemy tanks are destroyed as the Tiger remains safely out of range.]
Unfortunately, not enough are in service , Voss thought as he read this passage. The scales haven’t tipped, but neither has a balance been achieved.
(The following has been drawn from an oral report given by Tank Gunner 1st Class Rudolf Gartner)
2/4/43 Three Tigers from Waffen SS battery “8” were on routine patrol approximately twenty-five kilometers northeast of Kharkov. Visibility was relatively good despite overcast and periodic rainfall. The commander of the lead tank received an en clair radio transmission from a panzergrenadier company battle station from within the patrol sector, stating that a T-34 fitting the description of Red Vengeance had been observed one thousand meters to the rear of the company area. The command vehicle was nearest to the vicinity and would follow a course north by north west and bring the tank under observation. Gartner’s tank, tactical number 127, was signaled by the lead tank and apprised of the new heading. Tiger #127 then informed the third tank of the unit, and when all three converged on the company sector, they were to await further orders. Stunned but excited at the prospect of engaging the infamous T-34, Gartner’s tank changed course. The crew’s morale was high.
The sighting was remarkable. Upon the successful completion of the counteroffensive and the retaking of Kharkov, all Soviet forces had been thrown back across the Donets River. The Russians had been under constant observation on the river’s east bank. Due to the warmer temperatures and melting snow, the river was swollen with ice floes, rendering a forced crossing impossible.
Tiger #127 would require a half hour, struggling through mud at top speed, before affecting a link up with the lead Tiger. At the outset, radio communication was difficult to maintain; garbled, misunderstood transmissions were relayed and repeated among the three tanks. Interference, primarily static, and a loud hum prevailed. Despite the poor quality of communication, the lead Tiger confirmed the T-34 as Red Vengeance and tried desperately to outmaneuver in an attempt to await the arrival of the patrol, but the enemy tank was forcing a confrontation. The two Tigers approaching on either flank could no longer communicate. Tiger #127 drove on in silence. Matters worsened when a fog quickly enveloped the surroundings, not an uncommon occurrence in the region, especially near rivers; nevertheless, the speed and density was unusual as #127 ran into a wall of fog that “seemed to have descended in the blink of an eye…from out of nowhere” (Gartner). Blind, radio useless, the commander of #127 only had his senses and training to rely on. He ordered a full stop, opened the turret hatch, and listened. The clatter of tank tracks distinctive of a T-34 could be heard. The discharge from a Tiger’s 88 mm followed; the sound originated from the east, near the river. Climbing back down and securing the hatch, the commander of #127 ordered a change of direction. Visibility wavered between fifteen to twenty meters. Minutes later, something loomed into view. It was the burning remains of the lead tank. The enormous hull had been cleaved apart lengthwise. No one could claim that he heard the Russian tank fire, unless the fog muffled the report. The extent of the damage indicated a hit at point blank range; they should have heard the T-34 fire its gun. Tension inside #127 became unbearable. The commander ordered a full stop, looked through the periscope, and desperately sought a target. The crew waited, silently. Gartner, poised at the gun controls, anticipated the order to fire. The driver was told to advance, slowly. Several minutes passed, perhaps less, when a terrific explosion penetrated the fog. Tiger #127 rocked from the force of the blast, and pieces of metal rapped the side of the vehicle. The second Tiger had been hit, again at close range, and the turret was completely dislodged from the hull. The commander of #127 knew the risk was too great to attempt an assault under these conditions and decided to withdraw. No sooner had the vehicle turned about than an armor-piercing shell struck the left flank, and smoke filled the interior-fighting compartment. Another AP round hit, and the fuel supply ignited. The tank began to disintegrate. Gartner managed to scramble out of the turret hatch as a fireball engulfed the interior. He lay in the mud badly burned, and before losing consciousness, he watched the spectral profile of the T-34 emerge from the fog and pass by “like some monstrous, devouring animal,” and then disappear into the fog. In the short time that had elapsed since Red Vengeance was first observed, three Tigers had been destroyed, and fourteen crewmen were dead. Tank Gunner 1st Class Rudolf Gartner survived long enough to give an oral report.
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