Bob Carruthers - Into the Gates of Hell - Stug Command '41

“That strategy should now be fully considered. Don’t be afraid. Please tell them what you saw, Rivka,” said Korsak as he gently ushered a young girl into the cellar.

“They are… I saw… I…” she stuttered, ashen and shocked.

“Go on, Rivka, do not be afraid. Tell the officers what we saw that day.”

“First it was Jewish people,” said the reticent young girl. “They shot some in the streets and then… they took them in trucks… I was at my grandfather’s farm… They made them undress… old people… they made them take their clothes off. My friend Rosa… her father did not want to undress… he did not want to stand naked. They tore the clothing off the old man and he was shot. Then they shot her mother… then her grandmother, who was already eighty years old… she was holding two children… and then her father’s sister. She also had children in her arms and she was shot… with babies in her arms. Then her sister… she went up to the Germans with one of her friends, they were hugging each other, and she asked to be spared, standing there with no clothes on… A German looked into her eyes and shot the two of them… the Germans then shot Rosa’s second sister, and then Rosa’s… I saw the German take the child from her arms. The child cried out and was shot immediately. And then he aimed at her. He aimed the revolver at her and ordered her to watch and then… then he shot her. Then she fell to the ground, into the pit, amongst the… bodies… Then they took everyone, they said we were bolshevists, to the quarry… It was awful, too awful…” The girl could speak no more and dissolved into tears.

“Thank you, Rivka,” said Korsak gently.

“I’m sorry, truly sorry,” said a shocked Zubachyov to the young girl.

“The Jews should be used to hard times by now,” said Gavrilov.

Yefim Fomin could not believe what he was hearing. Words failed him.

“We are all Jews now,” said Zubachyov.

“Comrade Zubachyov is correct,” said Korsak. “The fascists have a phrase which we will all have to come to terms with. The German word is untermensch . It’s not just a term reserved for Jews, they use it for gypsies, for undesirables and, of course, Slavs. What shocked me was the scope, the scale, the planning, the inhumanity. It was burned into my soul. It has destroyed young Rivka’s life and it is only the beginning.”

Korsak was usually a man of calm consideration, he liked to think of himself as a soldier, a tough man, but today he was no longer the assured political operator he had once been. A volcano of raw emotion boiled up beneath the surface.

“I have looked into the face of pure evil. It has marked me forever. See, this is what a single exposure did to me.” Korsak swept off his officer’s cap, revealing a shock of pure white hair which contrasted starkly with his jet black eyebrows. “It happened to me instantly on that spot. I left the fortress on the morning of the 22nd of June with fine black hair. I returned on the 23rd of June like this,” he said, pointing to his pure white hair. “It was so horrifying, so base and so inhuman, that it aged me instantly. I’m an old man now and, whatever time I have left, I shall dedicate every second of it to fighting these fascist beasts.”

“Surrender is no longer to be discussed or considered,” said Zubachyov. “No one surrenders to absolute evil. Certainly not soldiers of the Red Army.”

“Comrades, I have made my decision,” announced Gavrilov. “We will break out of the encirclement.”

Following the decision to break out, the garrison continued to fight on from a patchwork of ruined buildings, casemates and tunnels. Soon afterwards it became clear to even the most optimistic defender that the front had moved far eastwards and that, in reality, no help could be expected from that direction.

The officers of the citadel therefore decided that the time had come to form a strike force to break out of the fortress. If this attempt succeeded, it was mooted that Captain Zubachyov would then lead the main contingent of the besieged troops in the citadel to break out after the first group.

The breakout attempt was timed for noon on the 26th of June, the fourth day of the siege. Following a short mortar barrage that had used up the last of the precious mortar rounds, and with a passionate shout of “Hoorah!”, an advance unit of one hundred and twenty desperate men rushed out of the Brest gate in the direction of the bridge.

However, as a result of prisoner interrogations the breakout had been expected and the assault guns were waiting. They had assumed covered positions and each was loaded with high-explosive.

“Rapid fire!” barked von Schroif over the radio as the Soviet infantry rushed towards their goal. “Don’t let any escape.”

The storm of steel from the guns was accurate and unremitting. The attackers were simply blown to pieces by the vicious rain of high-explosive shells which projected ferocious pieces of jagged metal, tearing off limbs and inflicting gruesome injuries to the soft human forms. Within seconds the breakout attack was reduced to a debacle and von Schroif in particular was determined to end the resistance and avenge the dead crewmembers and lost guns. The Soviet machine-gunners used up a great deal of their dwindling supply of ammunition in giving cover to the attacking troops, but the precious bullets rebounded harmlessly from the dug in StuGs. It immediately became apparent that this was a brave but hopeless endeavour.

“Reload with HE only, rapid fire,” ordered von Schroif and the battalion barked out their messages of death.

Despite the curtain of high-explosive and the unremitting rattle of small-arms fire, a few small groups of Soviet attackers actually succeeded in fighting their way through the solid ring of German troops. The vast majority were not so lucky. One hundred maimed and mangled bodies soon lay strewn across the grass leading to the Brest gate.

The attack was soon on the verge of petering out and von Schroif was about to order the guns to cease fire when suddenly there was a deafening crack on the side of the StuG and a plug of metal flew into the gun. Almost instantly, a small hole was blown in the other side of the vehicle. Pulling himself together from the shock of the unexpected, von Schroif quickly surmised that an anti-tank round had penetrated from one side of the fighting compartment and passed straight through and gone out the other. Luckily, the ammunition was not hit. Otherwise, they would have all been blown to kingdom come.

“Anti-tank team at 2 o’ clock,” said Knispel, now alert to the danger. “Looks like an anti-tank rifle.”

Although he had no way of ascertaining the truth for certain, Korsak sensed he had been spotted. He was certain that his first shot had hit and penetrated the vehicle. Despite the temptation to finish the job, it was time to change position. Fortunately, he was armed with the portable PTRD-41 anti-tank rifle. He was an expert in handling this light and highly effective weapon and the mobility it brought was an advantage in the deadly game of cat and mouse which now unfolded.

Despite his inexperience, Private Alexi Pushkin, a cook turned anti-tank rifle loader, was alert and responsive to Korsak’s brief commands. At long range the PTRD-41 was effectively useless against any reasonably thick armour, but in a close up contest it had the necessary penetrative power to punch through the armour on just about any part of the Sturmgeschütz, except for the heavily armoured front of the vehicle.

“Remember, the fuel tank is vulnerable,” said Korsak by way of encouragement, “so is the engine and the driver’s vision port. There are almost too many targets to choose from. All we have to do, Comrade Pushkin, is to stay alive long enough to claim ourselves a fascist trophy.”