***
Near Stalingrad, an emergency
airfield was hastily set up after the fall of "P." Day landings had
become impossible; airplanes landed now only at night. Even then,
aircraft were often fired upon and ended up for the most part dropping
their supplies down over the city. These supplies, however, came
nowhere near being sufficient. So, as there was no more food of any
kind available for the horses anyway, more and more of these were slaughtered
to provide nourishment for the men.
In order to compensate for the
enormous losses in fighting troops, several expendable officers' positions
were dissolved and, after a short training period of just a few days, these
men were thrown into the melee. I, too, was assigned with a group
of ex-officers to the northern front of Stalingrad, near the Volga.
The endgame had begun.
Our connections with the homeland had been severed for days. No mail
came in any longer, and none was carried out. Down to the last soldier,
each one of us knew that the terrible end was near.
The encirclement grew smaller
and smaller each day, so that it was now only the city itself and a small
belt of land surrounding it. Our only emergency airfield was suddenly
taken by surprise by the Russians, and provisions of all kinds which had
not had time to be loaded onto the supply trucks fell into enemy hands.
Countless wounded soldiers were also left to uncertain fates.
In the night, we dug new trenches
and worked feverishly in order to get a snow barricade completed by dawn
of the next morning. There was no other possible course of action
here on the very front lines, and no relief troops were available.
During the day, in the heat of the battle, and at night restless in the
bitter cold, each one of us tried to escape the gruesome prospect of freezing
to death. Our meager supplies, which could brought out only at night,
were cold and mostly frozen through. There was no longer even one
peaceful hour. If our positions could not be held any longer, we
retreated and dug in new trenches -- trenches which in this terrible cold
could not have been of any military value whatsoever.
After a few days, my originally
16-man strong group had shrunk to three. Finally, I myself was injured
by a bullet in a renewed Russian offensive and found myself in the emergency
medical hospital in Stalingrad with a severe thigh wound. In
spite of my extreme pain, I used all my reserve energy to drag myself alone
that night back to the command post. There my boot, which had frozen
fast to my leg, was cut away by the doctor. After being bandaged,
I was taken -- with severe frostbite on both feet in addition to my wound
-- to the basement of a bunker in the middle of the city.
I found out a few days
later that our General Field Marshall von Paulus had radioed to the headquarters
of the Fuhrer, pleading for permission to make his own decision regarding
the situation, as there were neither supplies nor munitions available,
and tens of thousands of wounded men to care for.
Who can forget the answer that
came soon afterwards? "Surrender out of the question. Fight
to the last man!"
With this, the fate of the 6th
Army was sealed. The front lines had retreated to the borders of
the city, and the Russians pressed on, day and night, from all sides, towards
the surrounded German soldiers. Artillery, Stalinorgel, grenade bombs
of all calibers, tanks and air weapons made a burning hell out of the city,
and gruesome scenes repeated themselves everywhere.
The Russians crossed the Volga
-- which had by that time completely frozen over -- and streamed into the
center of the city. Street fights soon developed with a ferocity
and intensity as none ever before experienced. The overpowering force
of the Russians was becoming more and more evident.
So came the 30th of January,
when Hermann Goering finally announced the surrender of the German
6th Army by radio. We had been given up on, lied to and betrayed.
At that instant, in the
hearts of even those who still believed that they had been fighting for
the fatherland, there occurred a bitter change. They had been abandoned
by everyone; not the least by their own commanders, who had fled the coop
by airplane just in time. All considered, the complete disillusionment
of these betrayed men was more than justified.
It was one of the greatest tragedies
of this event that nothing of the incredible misery and loneliness of these
soldiers in these last hours was ever reported, neither in our homeland
nor on other German fronts. Perhaps if it had been, more of our countrymen
would have realized in time just how unscrupulous the Nazis were -- these
men who would end up sacrificing an entire ethnic population simply to
prolong their power for a short time.