Read Eastern Inferno: The Journals of a German Panzerjäger on the Eastern Front, 1941-43 Online
Authors: Christine Alexander,Mason Kunze
Tags: #Bisac Code 1: HIS027100
Initially there is the usual shell fire. The infantry is firing their weapons, tank artillery, anti-aircraft artillery, mortars, and trench mortars. Then there is the 7.7 bunker artillery, the field guns, the 122mm long barrel artillery, the heavy artillery from 15 to 22cm, and finally, the artillery mounted on railroad cars and the heavy mortar battalions in the Kiev fortress.
As for the infantry combat, first the expected: gun and machine gun fire; then the Bolsheviks’ dum-dum bullets, fire grenades, Molotov cocktails, air mines, and mine dogs. I have more to tell about these exquisite Bolshevik contraptions: we are familiar with the dummy shells from the West; I don’t need to talk about them. As for the fire grenades—we call them that—in reality they have nothing in common with grenades. From the outside, it looks like a normal infantry missile with tracer. Once the phosphorus has burned out, the missile explodes into several splinters. Those who have seen the injuries caused by these monsters will never take any prisoners over them. These devilish projectiles are supposed to be banned by the Geneva Convention, as if these Red
schweine
waste a thought on this!
Molotov cocktails are essentially burning bottles which are thrown like hand grenades during trench combat. The effect is the following: upon impact the bottle explodes, the liquid inside ignites in the air and burns with a bright flame; a temperature of 800 to 100 degrees Celsius is reached and white smoke develops in large quantities. Imagine how nicely such a flame would burn your uniform jacket! The second application is firing them from normal infantry guns. With the aid of a middle piece, a shooting cup is mounted. The pressure of the powdered gases throws the fire bottles up to 200 meters. And by the way, they also shoot egg-sized hand grenades in this manner.
Mine dogs: we shot about a dozen of these German shepherds alone near Schuljany. The animals carry a device with explosives on their back. According to a prisoner who has trained these dogs, they are made to attack tanks and other vehicles with their load of 3 kilos of ammunition. By means of a wooden lever on the device, the load explodes after two safety latches are removed. According to other sources, these dogs are also trained to viciously attack people, and have caused serious damage to marching troops.
At various locations along the Potschtowaja front, the Reds are dropping air mines. This mine has wings and a propeller, and is attached to a red balloon half a meter in radius which detaches once it touches ground. Those dirty buggers [
dreckdingen
] rip holes into the earth that reach as far down as the water table.
This was only a small sampling, a very small one. What is this though, compared to the atrocities which the criminal gang in Kiev have themselves concocted, and of which only very little is known so far? Supposedly all public buildings are rigged with mines. Already two days after the conquest, three barracks have exploded, one of which was occupied by German soldiers. From then on, nearly hourly explosions have been ripping through the air; factory after factory, warehouses, hospitals, and schools, all exploding in huge jets of flames.
The civilians are starting to come out of their homes and are slowly becoming more trusting. There are many gorgeous people among the Ukrainians. Touching scenes play out on the street: surrounded by them, we are caressed, kissed, and all this, with a tremendous amount of crying. These poor people must have truly suffered a great deal under the Bolshevik reign of terror. Through their tears they stammer, trying to talk. Many of them speak broken German, and so we learn of many devastating fates. They are thankful for each bite of bread. Many of them have not eaten for days, the Reds having systematically destroyed all provisions in the city. At noon, the streets are as busy as they would be in peacetime. On the motorway, vehicle after vehicle rolls eastward. Supply lines, small echelons, and tanks: Kiev has never seen so much life on its streets. The sidewalks are black with curious onlookers.
Suddenly the unspeakable happens: a terrible explosion, and at three different places on the main road there are flames higher than a house. Huge rocks and ripped iron beams are flying through the air; and then, nothing but stench and smoke fills the street. Cries and moans, in a wild panic the mass retreats. Many are crushed against the walls of buildings or stampeded to death on the asphalt. With weapons in hand, we finally manage to force the headless crowd to a side street. What happened?
After the smoke dissipates, we see the horrible results: the wide street has been ripped open over a length of 100 meters. Once where there was a monument to Lenin there is now nothing but a gaping, deep crater; the walls of the 4-story houses on both sides of the street are caved in. Under the smoking debris, there must be hundreds of people.
The peace and quiet is over! A few hours later, two full divisions are given orders to immediately start forming special command units. One receives orders to search the city following a precise plan, which was left behind by the Red Army, for dangerous elements and terror groups. The other is transformed, along with the
Sturmpionieren
, into a search unit. It is their task to find mine clusters and remote detonation devices. In particular, the GFP and the special SS commands are working feverishly. That same afternoon, round-ups of the Jews start to occur. More about this later, and in greater detail.
Interrogation and investigation show the following: 1). The remote detonation device which caused the terrible explosion at noon was installed inside the Lenin monument. 2). There are more remote devices in the center of town. Despite drastic measures, we do not learn more about the where and how. Most likely, the Ukrainian
Landesmuseum
appears to have been compromised. We search this monumental building throughout the evening. Although the large rooms are pleasantly cool, we are sweating like
schweine
. Damn, it sure is shitty to crawl through such a giant building, with fear always breathing down your neck, thinking that you might blow up with the whole thing at any minute.
Then finally, in the basement, in a small side room, we hear the clear ticking of a clock. The noise is coming through the walls; no wire, no conductor, nothing is visible. This is scary! What do we do? We continue searching for another half hour—an eternity for us—to find this device from hell. We then get orders to evacuate the building immediately. The entire neighborhood is cleared and barricaded. What a dramatic affair. How is it that we still have our wits about us?
At exactly 2230 hours, the giant building blows up. Five or six blocks burn through the morning hours. And not only here; there are many places in the city where jet flames are rising up into the sky. Huge explosions are thundering; a blood-red cloud hovers over Kiev.
September 24:
In the early hours of the morning field units receive orders to clear the city. Only local command, administration, and security staff are to remain, thank God! We did not close an eye tonight; explosion after explosion, not a single windowpane was left intact in our area. The walls of the houses have gaping cracks in them.
We move into the suburb of Mikolska-Bortschtschagowka. We are so comfortable in these beautiful houses—God only knows that we aren’t spoiled at all. Boy, they still have chickens here. The famous Primus [paraffin burner] is started and soon a cloud of tempting barbeque smells hovers over the barracks. For hours, the whole war can kiss our asses, and then some. But such a favor is not granted. Don’t get caught with egg on your face.
Shortly before midnight there is a terrible explosion. Stucco runs down the walls, the air pressure slams the door, windows rattle, the food is stuck in the back of our throats, we throw everything down and run outside. A huge mushroom cloud of smoke hangs over the city. Something terrible must have happened. All of a sudden the food does not taste good anymore, the tempting roasted chicken thighs remain untouched. A heavy pressure lies on everybody.
We are waiting and waiting for the news about what has happened. In the evening we know more. The local command station housed in the largest hotel in Kiev blew up and with it more large administrative buildings. A whole quarter of the city is burning, and under the debris there are several thousand civilians. High officers and many soldiers lost their lives as well. Somebody reports that the fully occupied soldiers casino blew up.
It is horrible. For the first time in a long while those brave front soldiers are watching a movie, are laughing and are happy, and seconds later they are ripped to shreds by the hell machinery of this band of bandits. There will be a terrible atonement.…
September 25:
Early this morning I drove with 3 other guys to Terempki. It was a most sensitive undertaking. The whole area is still full of landmines partly contaminated with loess. Even now, days after the fighting, the empty positions reach out for our lives. Eerily quiet is the “field of death,” treacherous still, because many thousand kilos of dynamite are lying in the earth, waiting for a wrong step to rise up roaring in a shrill daring flame.
The responsibility is a heavy pressure. I should go alone and at my own risk. Now through their pleas the other three have worn me down and I have taken them with me.
Everything here is sinister, still fresh the traces of the terrible battle but there is no shrieking or whistling in the air here, or thunders of detonations.
Potschtowaja—space without drumfire, walking upright close to the field; who would have thought something like this a few days ago?
My God, what a sight!
Along the total length of the high forest of Terempki, friend and enemy are still lying there, exactly how they died 6 weeks ago. Yes, this Terempki forest, which once was a magnificent forest, but now there are only ripped tree trunks and in between the horror assaults you! Damned me, a soldier should not stroll as a pedestrian on those battle fields which have not completely absorbed all the blood, where within the barbed wires there are hanging things, which were worn by soldiers once during battle, but which after the battle—no no! Then we reach a huge pile of rubble: Terempki.
All around us a landscape of moon craters. These were our battle positions. Then we are standing at the spot where we buried the dead comrades. The earth has been tilted many times. Nothing is discernable anymore; there, where we laid them to their final rest, are now huge funnels at the bottom of which we can see murky ground water. How fortunate that the young women, mothers and brides know nothing about all this!
These were indeed our positions. Many thousands of shells have mutilated them; one can only imagine how the ditches and passages ran, and cannot fathom that once you were crouched in there for 48 hours at a time. It is incomprehensible that a few men were able to flee this hell.
We are driving back, nobody is speaking, silently each on his own with his thoughts. Farewell from Terempki, from all these dear comrades. The memory of this piece of earth is heavy. How can anybody in his lifetime forget these zones of horror?
We are homeward bound, towards the huge plumes of smoke, back to the burning Kiev. Poor city! We spared you, more than was good for us, and now gigantic fires are glowing inside you, your body convulses under the beatings of terrible explosions—not your own sons but the sons of Judah are ripping these mortal wounds, mangling your beautiful body past recognition.
When will this horrible war find its end.…Everybody is telling me I am seeing the world all black in an alarmist way—no comrades, to the contrary, I see white, I am seeing white snowy areas and many many of you all dead.
Don't think Hannes, for heaven's sake, don't think!
September 26:
Many kilometers wide the center of the city is one ocean of flames, further and further the fire eats away at it. Two more urban districts have been evacuated this morning, approximately 20,000 people are homeless; half of them are occupying with all their belongings the adjacent streets and plazas.
What a pitiful sight!
This morning pioneers blew up the roads close by; it just had to be done. The SS special command is extremely busy. Interrogations and executions non-stop. Somewhat suspicious individuals are simply shot in the street and their bodies remain right there where they fell down. Men, women and children are walking by, talking and laughing: “
nitschewo
,” this is nothing special, a dead person, not much!
The soles of the shoes are stepping in the fresh puddles of blood; the wide sidewalk is full of red traces.
You Russians, who will ever understand you?!
The
Einsatzkommandos
of the Waffen SS are very busy as well. All Jews without exception have until noon of the 25th to report. Sure, only half of them show up, but nobody will evade us, for a tight belt of outposts surrounds the city. That very day the revenge for our comrades who lost their lives in the mine attacks is beginning. Now, 24 hours later, already 2000 Hebrews have been send to Jehovah!
I have a long conversation with a young SS soldiers of this “kill commando.” They “freed” all the larger cities which were touched by our advance of the Jewish population. They understand their butcher job well; these boys are experienced killers, I am astonished. We soldiers in the first attack wave have never thought about the stuff that happens behind us in the cities we leave, as we’re chasing further after the enemy.
The perspective of the front soldiers is forward, towards the enemy. He tells me about the holocaust of Zhitomir. “At that time we were bloody beginners,” says the 19-year-old (with an emphasis on “bloody”). “For two days they had to dig 50-meter-long trenches;, each trench was calculated for 250 Jews. We killed a total of 1800 Jews in Zhitomir, 5000 somehow died before.