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Authors: Harrison Salisbury

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The ring around Leningrad has not yet been drawn as tightly as might be desired, and further progress after the departure of the 1st Panzers and 36th Motorized Division from the front is doubtful.

There will be continuing drain on our forces before Leningrad where the enemy has concentrated large forces and great quantities of material and the situation will remain tight until such a time when Hunger takes effect as our ally.

That was the day the
Berliner Borsenzeitung
proclaimed: “The fate of Leningrad has been decided.”

That was the day when von Leeb reported to the Supreme Command he had achieved a decisive breakthrough on the Leningrad front.

That was the day correspondents from Berlin wrote that the fall of Leningrad was expected within two weeks.

But already the pressure was beginning to lighten, although it did not seem that way at the front.
5

In the early morning hours of September 21 Bychevsky sought out his old friend and reliable counselor, General P. P. Yevstigneyev, chief of intelligence for the Leningrad front. What was the real situation at the front? Was the pressure easing? Was it building up?

Late as was the hour and tense the moment, Bychevsky found Yevstigneyev quiet and peaceful. There was no shadow of concern on his face.

“What do you think, Pyotr Petrovich?” Bychevsky asked. “Are the Germans finally getting played out?”

Yevstigneyev considered the map on his desk for a moment. Then he raised his eyes.

“For the third day I’ve had reports from one intelligence group near Pskov,” he said. “Lots of motorized infantry are moving from Leningrad toward Pskov. From there they are moving to Porkhov-Dno.”

“Regrouping?”

“Possibly. Possibly. I got some confirmation of these data last night.”

Yevstigneyev fumbled through his papers. He looked like a scholar patiently studying some ancient Russian manuscript.

“I’ve reported to Zhukov,” Yevstigneyev finally continued, “that all of this looks very much like a regrouping of troops away from Leningrad. From Gatchina the partisans also report that the Germans are loading tanks on railroad flatcars.”

“That’s fine!” Bychevsky explained.

“That’s what I think,” Yevstigneyev said. “I put together a report for Moscow. But Zhukov will have none of it. ‘Provocations,’ he says. ‘That’s what your agents are giving you. Find out who is behind this.’”

Yevstigneyev said he had heard from the Eighth Army on the Oranien-baum sector that they had recovered dead and wounded from the 291st and 58th German divisions. Zhukov was much interested because two days before these units had been in the line at Pulkovo.

Yevstigneyev concluded that the German frontal attack on Leningrad was, in fact, weakening.

Bychevsky observed that this was why Yevstigneyev seemed more relaxed.

“How can anyone relax at this time?” Yevstigneyev said. “It’s just my professional manner.”

That was the twenty-first. On the evening of the twenty-third Zhukov called in Yevstigneyev and asked whether he had sent his intelligence evaluation on to Moscow. Yevstigneyev had. Zhukov was relieved. Moscow had just reported the appearance of the 4th German Panzer group on the Kalinin front north of Moscow and wanted to know if Zhukov could confirm its departure from the Leningrad front.

The reports were true. The evidence from behind the lines and on the lines confirmed it. The Germans were beginning to pull troops out. Thank God, Colonel Bychevsky exclaimed to himself. Now he would not have to pull the plunger on the “hell machine,” the central detonating fuse that would blow into the skies the Kirov works, the railroad viaducts, the bridges and all the great buildings of Leningrad.

A day or two later Yevstigneyev put together another report for Zhukov. He had information that the Germans had mobilized local residents to build permanent trenches and dugouts. In some instances the Russians were being shot after they had completed work on the installations. At Peterhof and other historic parks the Germans were chopping down the great pine and spruce groves for their command posts and heated quarters, installing stoves and moving in beds and good furniture.

“What is your conclusion?” Zhukov asked.

“It is evident that the tempo of the Fascist offensive is slowing down,” Yevstigneyev said. “And even ... it may be expected that the German Army is getting ready to winter on the outskirts of Leningrad.”

He stopped there, biting his tongue as it was evident that Zhukov was still reluctant to jump to optimistic conclusions.

“The stupidest thing we can do,” Zhukov snapped, “is to let the enemy dig in on our front where he wants to. All my orders about active defense and local attacks remain in force. In other words, we’re the ones who will dig them into the earth. Is that clear?”

It was clear enough. So was the evidence of digging in. The word flew about Leningrad. Admiral I. S. Isakov went back to his quarters at the Astoria Hotel after listening to the exchange between Zhukov and Yevstig-neyev. An elderly porter, long-bearded in traditional Russian style, asked, “Comrade Admiral, is it true what they say—that the Germans are digging in?”

“Maybe,” the Admiral replied. “But if you want the truth, you’ll have to ask Hitler’s grandmother.”

As he walked ahead, he heard the doorman saying to a policeman, “It’s all clear. He means they are digging in but it’s still a military secret.”

But the evidence was almost too much for weary minds to comprehend.

Aleksandr Rozen had finally found the 70th Artillery, the outfit he had been with before the retreat into Leningrad. It was stationed now to the left of the Pulkovo lines near Shushary. He was asleep in a dugout with the regimental commander, Sergei Pudlutsky, when an aide awakened them. “Come quickly to the command post.” The two men threw on their greatcoats and went out. It was very early in the morning—a smoky, foggy morning. The smell of wet leaves was in the air. As they ran toward the command post, the sun broke fitfully through the clouds. At the command post they found a crowd gathered around the stereoptical observation instrument. Finally Rozen had his turn at the eyepiece. There swam into view German soldiers, apparently so close he could have touched them. They were hard at work with shovels and hammers, building dugouts and permanent trenches.

This was it. The offensive was over. The Germans were digging in for winter.

The twenty-first was the day at the Führer’s headquarters that a special memorandum was submitted to Hitler by General Warlimont on the question of Leningrad. The frontal assault on the city, the Germans now knew, would not succeed. Indeed, it would not take place. What to do? Warli-mont’s thesis was headed: “On the Blockade of Leningrad.”

As a beginning we will blockade Leningrad (hermetically) and destroy the city, if possible, by artillery and air power. . . .

When terror and hunger have done their work in the city, we can open a single gate and permit unarmed people to exit. . . .

The rest of the “fortress garrison” can remain there through the winter. In the spring we will enter the city (not objecting if the Finns do this before us), sending all who remain alive into the depths of Russia, or take them as prisoners, raze Leningrad to the ground and turn the region north of the Neva over to Finland.

The next day a secret directive was issued, No. ia 1601/41. It was headed: “The Future of the City of Petersburg.”

It said:

1. The Führer has decided to raze the City of Petersburg from the face of the earth. After the defeat of Soviet Russia there will be not the slightest reason for the future existence of this large city. Finland has also advised us of its lack of interest in the further existence of this city immediately on her new frontiers.

2. The previous requests of the Navy for the preservation of the wharves, harbor and naval installations are known to the OKB. However, their fulfillment will not be possible in view of the general line with regard to Petersburg.

3. It is proposed to blockade the city clÖsely and by means of artillery fire of all caliber and ceaseless bombardment from the air to raze it to the ground.

If this creates a situation in the city which produces calls for surrender, they will be refused. . . .
6

The evidence of the men at the front was true. The Germans had halted. They had suffered terribly. Some Nazi divisions had lost up to two-thirds of their personnel.
7
But these were not to be compared to the ghost divisions which faced them—the Soviet outfits which had been wiped out, sometimes twice or three times over.

Zhukov had won the military battle of Leningrad. Within a week troops from Leningrad would be on their way to help stem the German tide before Moscow. The first of these troops, the 6th Guards Division, began to report to General D. D. Lelyushenko, hard pressed to hold his lines on the Mtsensk approaches to the capital, on October 5.

The next evening the telephone rang in Zhukov’s offices in Smolny. It was Stalin. What did things look like in Leningrad? Zhukov said that the Nazi attacks had eased off, the Germans had gone over to the defense, and intelligence reports showed heavy movements of Nazi tanks and artillery away from Leningrad to the south, presumably in the Moscow direction.

Stalin received the report silently, then, after a pause, said that the Moscow situation was serious, particularly on the Western Front.

“Turn your command over to your deputy and come to Moscow,” Stalin ordered.

Zhukov bade a hasty farewell to Zhdanov and his other Leningrad associates and telephoned General Fedyuninsky: “Have you forgotten that you’re my deputy? Come immediately.”

It was almost morning before Fedyuninsky got back to Smolny. “Take over command of the front,” Zhukov said. “You know the situation. I’ve been called to Stavka.”
8

In the early morning hours Zhukov flew off to take over command of the Battle of Moscow. Now the real struggle would begin in Leningrad—the struggle with the allies whom the Germans had called to their side: Generals Hunger, Cold and Terror.

1
Artillery Marshal N. N. Voronov credited mass artillery fire—field, coastal and naval —with halting the Germans. (Voronov,
Na Shluzhbe Voennoi
, Moscow, 1963, p. 189.)

2
A curious controversy has arisen in Soviet historiography about the Eighth Army and its orders to counterattack. The distinguished naval historians V. Achkasov and B. Veiner describe the counterattack as having been carried out. The authoritative
Bitva Za Leningrad
(Barbashin) suggests that it was carried out and gives the Eighth Army great credit for engaging and weakening the Germans. (Barbashin,
op. cit
., pp. 70-71.) However, V. P. Sviridov, V. P. Yakutovich and V. Ye. Vasilenko cite chapter and verse of Shcherbakov’s refusal to carry out the attack.
(Bitva Za Leningrad
, pp. 126
et seq.)
And the authoritative A. Karasev and V, Kovalchuk agree with Sviridov and Co.
(Voyenno-lstoricheskii Zhurnal
, No. 1, January, 1964, p. 84.) The ouster of Shcherbakov September 24 suggests that Sviridov and Co. are right.

3
Mzhavanadze became First Secretary of the Communist Party of Georgia after Stalin’s death and in 1957 was named a member of the Presidium (now Politburo) of the Soviet Communist Party.

4
A favorite slogan of these days was: “Leningrad is not afraid of death—death is afraid of Leningrad.”

5
A whole series of dates have been given by Soviet historians for the day the Leningrad front was stabilized. They range from September 18 (selected by only a few) to September 23, 25, 26, 29, and October 13. (Lieutenant General F. Lagunov,
Voyenno-Istoricheskii Zhurnal
, No. 12, December, 1964, p. 93.) Admiral Panteleyev heard from Leningrad on the evening of the nineteenth that the German attacks had been beaten off. (Panteleyev,
op. cit
., p. 218.) “The front was stabilized September 19,” says the authoritative
Leningrad v VOV
(p. 157).

6
This order was reaffirmed in a secret decree of October 7, High Command Order No. 44 1675/41, in which the plans for the eradication of Leningrad were reaffirmed and it was again stated that the capitulation of neither Leningrad nor Moscow was to be accepted. (Barbashin,
op. cit
., p. 77.)

7
The German 1st, 58th and 93rd divisions had lost two-thirds of their personnel and material. The 121st and 269th were at about 40 percent strength. (Barbashin,
op. cit
., p. 73.) The Russians estimated German casualties in the Leningrad campaign at 170,000
(Ibid
., p. 145); Pavlov says 190,000 to September 25 (Pavlov,
op. cit
., 2nd edition, p. 28).

8
Stalin’s telephone call to Zhukov was produced by an incredible development. The attention of Stalin and his High Command had been riveted on the rapid Nazi drive toward Tula, southwest of Moscow. The night of October 4 and 5 had been the most alarming of the war. Communications between the Western Front and the Kremlin had been broken and Stalin had no notion of what was happening. As early as 9
A.M.
on October 5 word came of a Nazi breakthrough on the central front, a scant hundred miles west of Moscow, toward Mozhaisk. The report first was dismissed as the product of “panic.” At noon, however, a Soviet reconnaissance plane spotted a fifteen-mile-long Nazi armored column advancing rapidly on the Spas-Demensk highway toward Yukhnov. No one in Moscow could believe the Germans were so close, and there was no Soviet force to bar their sweep into the city. Two more reconnaissance planes were sent out. Only after each verified the sighting was the news reported to Stalin. His immediate order was to throw together a scratch force to hold up the Germans for five to seven days while reserves were brought up. Stalin then assembled his top echelon including Police Chief Beria. Beria called the reports a “provocation.” He said his agents at the front, the so-called “special department,” had reported nothing about a breakthrough. When others insisted that the air reports were correct, he responded with the words “Very well,” pronounced with special emphasis. A short time later he summoned the responsible air officer, Colonel N. A. Sbytov, and put him in the hands of his chief of military counterintelligence, V. S. Abakumov, who threatened to turn Sbytov and the reconnaissance fliers over to a field tribunal for execution. The intelligence, however, was correct. It was in this crisis, with the Moscow line being held by infantry and artillery cadets and scattered forces taken from headquarters companies, that Stalin called in Zhukov. (K. F. Telegin,
Voprosy Istorii KPSS
, No. 9, September, 1966, pp. 102
et seq.)
Fedyuninsky mistakenly dates this talk as of October 10. (Fedyuninsky,
Podnyatye Po Tvevoge
, Moscow, 1964, p. 60.) Zhukov in three versions says he turned over command to his Chief of Staff, General M. S. Khozin. In fact, the formal transfer of command from Zhukov to Fedyuninsky is dated October 10, but Zhukov had arrived in Moscow October 7. Khozin replaced Fedyuninsky as commander October 26, 1941. (Zhukov,
Voyenno-Istoricheskii Zhurnal
, No. 8, August, 1966, p. 56; A. M. Samsonov,
Proval
Gitlerovskogo Nastupleniya na Moskvu
,
Moscow, 1966, p. 18; A. A. Dobrodomov
,
Bitva Za Moskvu
, Moscow, 1966, p. 56; Barbashin,
op. cit
., p. 582.) K. F. Telegin, Political Commissar for the Moscow Military District, reports that Zhukov was called to Moscow on the evening of October 6. Zhukov says he arrived in Moscow on the evening of October 7 and conferred immediately with Stalin, who was ill with the grippe but working alone in his office. On October 10 Zhukov was named to command the Western Front. (K. F. Telegin,
Voprosy Istorii KPSS
, No. 9, September, 1966, p. 104; Zhukov in
Bitva Za Moskvu
, 2nd edition, Moscow, 1968, p. 64.)

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