Origins: The Reich (21 page)

The Red Army was caught completely unprepared for the scale and ferocity of the German assault.  Stalin’s snap reaction was to repel the invaders with all available forces by initiating an ill-conceived counteroffensive.  The careless and premature attack failed badly and more than a million men were killed during the fighting with another three million taken prisoner.

It took every ounce of logic, diplomacy, and debating skills Valnor possessed to convince Stalin that attacking the Germans in the early months of the war was folly.  They were too strong, too well equipped, and too well organized to be stopped while the Red Army had none of those attributes to rely upon.  The only two truly potent weapons the Soviet Union had on their side in this Great Patriotic War was its vast amount of territory and the unbearable Russian winter.

Under Valnor’s direction, the Red Army undertook a doctrine of ‘bend but do not break’.  While the army put up resistance, the civilians dismantled anything of value, sometimes entire factories, and moved it all east toward Moscow and presumed safety.  What could not be taken was demolished or burned while the Germans repeatedly threw themselves against defended positions and incurred heavy losses, as did the Soviets. 

It was draconian; it was desperate, but Valnor knew if the Red Army could hold out until winter they could win the war – eventually.  German tanks and planes would not function in thirty below freezing temperatures.  Nor would they fare well dealing with supply lines that stretched for thousands of miles.  They just had to hold out until winter.

As a result, the Germans managed to conquer a huge area in their initial push, including the Baltic republics, Belarus, and all of Ukraine.  It was now early October, and Germany’s Army Group Center was bearing down on the capital city of Moscow, the very thing Valnor promised Stalin could be avoided with his retreat and burn doctrine.  Days were growing shorter and temperatures were dropping, but winter was not yet here, and they were out of time.

Valnor had left the cities of Leningrad to the north and Stalingrad to the south as relatively undefended targets.  The goal was to divert the German attack to those significant, yet not vitally important cities.  He needed the Germans to spend time laying siege to those cities while Valnor mobilized fresh reserves for the truly vital battle for Moscow. 

As Valnor entered Stalin’s office at the Kremlin, he feared the battle for Moscow would be one left for another military officer to wage.  He fully expected to find a firing squad waiting to shoot him as a traitor. 

Instead, Valnor had a piece of paper thrust into his hands by Stalin.  Before he had time to read the updated report from the front lines Stalin announced, “The Germans have halted their advance on Moscow and turned north to complete the encirclement of Leningrad.  They took your bait.”

Valnor breathed a heavy sigh of relief with the news and took a seat in front of Stalin’s desk.  “Now we need that city to put up a stiff enough fight to hold the Germans there until our reserves can be organized here in the capital. 

“And to make sure that happens I’m sending you to Leningrad.  Take command of their defenses and use any means necessary to hold the city.  From this point on there will be not a single step backwards!”

When the transport
plane’s pilot announced they were nearing Leningrad, Valnor unlatched his safety harness and leaned into the nearest window for a better view of the city below.  A moment later, he had his nose smashed against the glass by a sudden jolt when the pilot did a sharp turn to avoid a flack cannon blast up ahead.  It was a poignant reminder of the local commander’s protest that it was too dangerous to attempt a flyover of the city.

Unfortunately, the only remaining railroad line into the city had been cut by the Germans several days earlier, leaving the perilous flight in as the only option.  On the bright side, the flyover gave Valnor an unparalleled opportunity to assess the situation, which was not good at all.

Valnor could see that the Germans were massing their forces to the north for a pending assault on the city’s main port accessing the Gulf of Finland.  If the city lost that port, all supplies coming from England and the United States would cease.  The end result being that Leningrad’s entire population of four million people, give or take a few hundred thousand refugees from territories already conquered by the Germans, would starve or freeze to death in short order.

With his bird’s eye view of the battle, Valnor saw that the local commander, General Popov, was in the midst of a feeble and disorganized counterattack.  One or two infantry divisions followed their traitorously incompetent orders to charge unprotected toward the German barricades.  The predictable result was their annihilation by machine gun fire well before reaching the German lines.

Thousands of other soldiers either tucked tail and ran for their lives, or never bothered to move from the safety of their trenches; they seemed to feel quite confident that there would be no consequence for defying orders.  Two other divisions made an almost comical show of shooting at a barren hilltop to at least look like they were following orders.  Clearly the local commander was incompetent in strategy, organization, and his ability to motivate the men to follow orders.  That complete state of disarray was about to change once Valnor’s plane landed; by any means necessary.

The first order of business was to conduct a one-on-one meeting with General Popov while the rest of the senior staff assembled outside his office in the main command bunker.  Valnor made his way into a fortified bunker just north of the partially damaged airport and found General Popov pouring a half empty bottle of vodka into his morning coffee.

“General, what the hell are you doing?” Valnor barked.  “This is a battle that’ll determine the fate of the entire Motherland, and you’re busy getting drunk?”

“It settles my nerves.”

Valnor angrily placed two hands on the General’s desk and leaned in to ask, “Now why on earth would you be nervous at my arrival in the city?”

“I…I,” General Popov stammered while seated in his chair looking like a puppy dog being scolded for piddling on the floor.

“This is
Leningrad
!  It bears the name of our dearly departed leader, and you are handing it over to the enemy,” Valnor shouted.

“I set up trenches, minefields, artillery and anti-aircraft guns, but they came at us with so much.  Bombers, fighters, tanks, halftracks, machine guns, and what did I have?  Half my men don’t even have rifles.  They needed to wait for the man in front of them to get shot to pick up his weapon and continue the fight.  What could I do?”

“Organize your attacks for starters, and motivate your men to follow orders.  Those would be useful,” Valnor countered without sympathy.  “Stalin sent me here to relieve you of command and has ordered you back to Moscow for a performance review.”

Valnor paused long enough to pull out a pistol from his hip holster.  “Personally, I think you should go ahead and spare us the trouble by skipping right to the end result.”  With that said, he slapped the firearm down on the table with the pistol grip pointing toward the petrified general.  Valnor then took the man’s cup of Irish coffee, emptied the contents onto the floor and poured him a straight shot of vodka.  Without another word, Valnor exited the office to deal with the general’s senior staff of military and political officers.

Two rows with ten men in each stood at attention outside the general’s office in the main planning room.  Valnor slowly paced down the front row, waiting.  To pass the time he stopped to look upon and visually evaluate each man.  A few looked him in the eyes, but most looked ready to crawl into their buttoned uniform shirts and hide.

The army officers among them wore green uniforms while the six political officers charged with maintaining morale and education of the men wore black.  None looked old enough to shave, let alone lead men into battle or motivate them to do so.  The visual explained a lot, as did the single gunshot from behind the general’s closed office door.  Now that these officers knew the price for failure, Valnor took his spot in the center of the room and spoke.  “I have officially relieved General Popov of his command.  Now, who was the political officer assigned to this morning’s counter offensive near the main port?”

A twenty year old, who beamed with pride and confidence that he had performed his duties well, stepped forward and snapped to rigid attention with a salute before his new commanding officer.  Valnor did not bother looking him in the eye.  He grabbed the boy’s sidearm, chambered a round, aimed it at the political officer’s left temple and pulled the trigger.

Before the body had time to hit the floor, Valnor was speaking again.  “I watched this morning’s assault with my own eyes from the air.  Men deserting, failing to charge when ordered, pretending to attack an unoccupied hillside.  This worthless piece of flesh failed in every aspect of his duties to keep the men motivated and following orders.  The rest of you failed in your duties by ordering the idiotic assault in the first place, but I can’t shoot all of you for treason because I still need you.”

“Political officers, front and center,” Valnor ordered.  When he saw hesitation in their eyes, he gave a dismissive sigh and dropped the pistol he held on top of the dead man lying at his feet.  A moment later, five young men dressed in black uniforms stood before him staring straight ahead as Valnor weaved his way in between them.  “You and your men are hereby empowered; no, you are duty bound and ordered to shoot anyone seen retreating from our lines.  I want our soldiers in the trenches more afraid of your guns than those of the enemy they will face.  Charging the German lines may result in their death, but defying orders absolutely will.  If you don’t, you yourselves will be shot.  Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, General,” they replied in unison.

“You have your orders, now go and make examples early and often.  The rest of you army officers, we need to prepare for an assault that the Germans will almost certainly launch against the main port in the next few days.  I want the densest minefield ever conceived in place by tomorrow night to greet them.  In addition, I want every sailor not tasked with firing or reloading a cannon onboard one of those ships in the port to be issued a weapon and reassigned to the front lines.  There must be fifty thousand sailors picking their noses on those warships.  We need every last man available if we are to hold this city named after the boss –
Leningrad.
”

“Yes, General,” the remaining officers shouted.

“One last thing before you are set to task, who has connections with the local cattle ranchers?”  Silence and confused looks abounded upon hearing the unexpected question. Finally, one scraggly hand was raised into the air.

“My father is a foreman at the local meat processing plant.”

“Close enough.  Come with me then, you can make the introductions.  The rest of you will execute the orders being handed out to you now by my chief of staff,” Valnor said heading out of the bunker followed by a pale-faced young officer.  He trusted his senior aides to execute the finer details of his grand strategy for the coming battle.

Two days later the inevitable attack on Leningrad’s main seaport commenced.  Three hours of artillery bombardment took place in the early morning hours.  As soon as daylight broke, German dive-bombers added their firepower to the mix.  Valnor was pleasantly surprised that a few dozen planes filled the skies rather than several hundred.  The German mechanics were beginning to have trouble keeping their equipment functioning in the subzero temperatures. 
Just wait until the real Russian winter sets in.

Valnor’s men mined the broad path of flat farmland standing between the German forces and the port.  It was now to the point that a migrating goose could scarcely land in the vicinity without exploding in a puff of dirt and feathers.  The only other way to reach the port was through the city streets, which would be bloody and costly for the Germans given how many tanks and gun emplacements Valnor had moved into the city. This left the minefield path as their only option, but the German commanders had devised an effective way to dispose of the mines.

While some of the German artillery focused on the defensive lines of the Red Army, the majority of their fire hit the minefield.  Each strike set off dozens of mines upon impact, and their aim progressed toward the port until they created a corridor of relative safety for their tanks and infantry to advance through.  Six hundred German tanks then fired up their diesel engines and began their rapid advance with a hundred thousand infantry rolling behind inside transport trucks.

Valnor looked on from the city’s edge where his entire force of two hundred outdated tanks sat out of firing range idling.  Two of the local officers were with him, and the fatter of the two lodged his complaint with Valnor’s battle planning.  “Not only are the mines not stopping their assault, they now stand in the way of our tank forces from joining the battle.”

“Yes, it does look that way and given how careless their commander is being with his exposed flank, he clearly subscribes to your line of thinking,” Valnor said in an offhanded manner.  “However, it does funnel them into a rather narrow line of approach.  Open fire,” Valnor ordered into his radio receiver.

Moments later the German tank advance, which suffered a few random explosions from undetonated mines, felt the full fury of every artillery piece the Red Army had in Leningrad.  It was like shooting fish in a barrel and the damage inflicted was substantial, but not enough.  Wave upon wave of armor rolled into the firing zone with infantry trucks progressing much slower due to the uneven ground caused by the mines and artillery shells.

Even when the assault moved into range of the warships anchored in the port, enabling them to add their firepower to the carnage, the Germans rolled on.  Their men were well disciplined and held their course and speed without wavering.  They accepted that fate alone would decide if a shell hit them or not; they had their orders.

Once the tanks were far enough ahead of the advancing infantry, many of whom were now spilling out of their trucks to make quicker progress on foot, Valnor sprung his trap by issuing a simple order over his radio.  “All tanks fire on the mine field and tell the cattle ranchers to release their herds.”

  Moments later the world ahead of Valnor came alive with violent explosions that were drowned out by a sea of cows rushing into the exploding minefield.  Where the tank shells missed, the meandering wave of ten thousand bovine succeeded in detonating most of the mines that prevented Valnor’s tanks from joining the fray moments before.  With that obstacle removed, his armor divisions swooped down upon the helpless German infantry, sending them retreating in every direction, even into the unexploded minefield.

When they reached the fleeing infantry, the Soviet tanks disregarded their presence and reached for the real prize.  They fell in behind the German panzer divisions and snapped shut the jaws of Valnor’s master plan.  Outgunned and with nowhere to run, the remaining German tanks were quickly reduced to burnt out hulks smoldering before the defensive lines of the Red Army.

Valnor’s officers pleaded with him to give an order to pursue the fleeing Germans, but one look at their fortifications and halo of aircraft cover made his decision easy.  The brutal truth of things was that even with the resounding victory, they did not have near the force required to break out of the encircled city.  The only thing his victory achieved was to strip the German’s of their ability to attack the city and take it by force.  It would be a long, drawn out siege requiring a significant investment of troops, resources and time by the German invaders; precisely Valnor’s goal.

Valnor did not have much time to celebrate his victory with the defenders of Leningrad.  He received word that Moscow was coming under assault and his presence was required. 
What would this Red Army do without me?

He quickly shoved such arrogance out of his mind.  He knew it was a sentiment Tomal would embrace whole-heartedly, and he wanted nothing to do with it.  Valnor obeyed Hastelloy’s orders for the greater good, not his own personal glory.