Armageddon - Max Hastings [331]
Once the Soviets recovered their balance after the shock of the Germans’ Lake Balaton assault, they disposed ruthlessly of the attackers. German tanks and vehicles were anyway coughing to a halt all over the battlefield, for lack of fuel. The Germans ended the battle with fewer than 400 operational tanks and assault guns, against the 900 they had started with. The men of 1st SS Panzer Corps were exhausted. “We were at the end of our physical strength,” said Corporal Martin Glade, of the retreat that began once more in mid-March, as the Soviets renewed their offensive.
At each orientation stop, comrades dropped to the ground where they stood . . . [Our officer] distributed the company along a ridge in the darkness. “Dig in! Dig in!” I heard him shout, time and again. We . . . dug shallow holes for ourselves. Mine was the depth of a spade. Then, fatigue overcame me. When I woke up again, I was hardly able to get to my feet. I was frozen right through. The sky was turning red in the east . . . With my frozen fingers I dug in my haversack for a dry bread crust and a piece of sausage.
The Russians opened fire on the featureless hill, bereft of cover: “The effect was devastating . . . to the right and left of me, men were lying motionless, silent, strangely curled up—more than half the company, I thought. Last night when we moved onto that damned hill, we had been 48.”
The Germans abandoned their attack and began to pull back on 16 March. The Russians resumed their advance on Vienna, reaching the city outskirts on 4 April. Two days later, Valentin Krulik was sent with a reconnaissance patrol into the heart of the Austrian capital. He cared little for its illustrious history: “We didn’t pay much attention. For us, it was just another battlefield.” Alexandr Vostrukhin reached the suburbs with a T-34 battalion of the same brigade as Krulik. “The city looked amazingly untouched by the war, so quiet and serene, with no fires in sight.”
Krulik led his men into the streets from the west in a couple of trucks, without meeting resistance. They caught sight of German troops, but found no organized defences. For a few minutes, they were bemused to find themselves following a column of Wehrmacht vehicles. “The silence was really creepy.” But as night came on, despite Krulik’s report that the path was open, his regimental commander felt uneasy about penetrating deep into the city without support. They pulled back to the suburbs. It was several days before the Russians were ready to address Vienna in force. In the interim, the Germans regrouped. SS panzergrenadiers fought ferociously through the streets for a week. Among them was Otto Skorzeny, Hitler’s favourite commando. By 10 April, even Skorzeny despaired. He reported to Berlin: “The situation is hopeless. There are no defensive preparations, utter despondency. Organization has broken down . . . Troops are bewildered and deprived of initiative. I ordered that three officers accused of treachery were not to be shot, but hung from the Floritzdorfer bridge. Withdrawal of the Luftwaffe is using fuel needed by tanks and fighting troops—and they are taking with them only women and furniture.”
It cost the Red Army a week of bloody fighting to cover the ground Valentin Krulik’s men had travelled so easily at the outset. “Our problem in 1945,” said Krulik, “was that we were always in a hurry—being replenished on the march, very short of experienced officers, with a lot of very young and pretty old replacements filling the ranks. We were often