The Retreat , Hitler’s First Defeat - Michael Jones
The evidence of brutality was growing. On 9 November German officer Robert Rupp decided to visit a prisoner-of-war camp at Mtensk: ‘What I saw there was harrowing,’ he stated:
“Early in the morning they bring out the work detail, flogging them, and raining blows on their heads, before leading them away. At noon and in the evening a tiny amount of food is available for these unfortunates. It is horsemeat, which stands out in the open in large vats. The prisoners come with makeshift canisters, some hammered out from their helmets. They beg for more – they are so desperately hungry. Yet the horsemeat is scarcely edible. At night, they sleep on wooden slats, in a side annexe exposed to the open air – and it is already very cold. Most of them are sick – and many have chronic stomach pains. Some attempt to patch up their boots by winding wire around them; others try to make gloves from pieces of rag and string. All have lice, for there is no provision for washing or changing clothes. I found a supply officer and described the prisoners’ condition and we immediately got into an argument. I learnt that some clothes were available – but they had been left in storage and not distributed. In a derelict factory room, there is a long trough and one dripping tap. Rats scurry around it. This is the prisoners’ sole source of drinking water.”
Rupp added: ‘These conditions are an absolute disgrace. There is not an iota of compassion here.’ He made a final trip to the camp hospital: ‘It is situated in a large ruined hut, where the wounded lie on the bare earth. Someone is having a foot amputated. An old man begs me to allow him home – he wants to be properly cared for.’ Rupp concluded: ‘This day has profoundly shaken me.’ Shortly afterwards he wrote to his wife: ‘Only rarely do I weep. Crying is no way out when you are standing amidst these events. The feelings of guilt and shame are too deep’.
The frost was hardening the roads, and the German Panzers hoped soon to advance once again. On 10 November Nina Semonova wrote in her diary: ‘A sunny day. I carried my baby daughter outside, to get a little fresh air. A German officer appeared. He boasted that they had already occupied Moscow and Leningrad. I remained silent.’ Once again, there was a widening gap between the sentiments of troops occupying towns such as Rzhev, and therefore distanced from the actual fighting, and those on the front line. Here, the inactivity was playing on soldiers’ nerves. ‘The men are becoming listless and apathetic,’ wrote Hellmuth Stieff on 11 November. ‘We have a frost now, and temperatures have fallen to below −10 degrees Celsius, though we still do not know when the attack will start again. We are ready to try for this one last goal.’ And then Stieff echoed the complaint of Hoepner: ‘Our high command continues to issue wholly unrealistic orders, and we have not yet been properly resupplied with ammunition and fuel.’
The growing gulf between front-line perceptions of what was feasible and the views of the German high command was beginning to worry Stieff seriously, and he returned to it, declaiming: ‘For us, their attitude is utterly incomprehensible. They devise their objectives in the map room, as if the Russian winter did not exist, and our troops’ strength is still the same as when the campaign started in June. However, winter is now on our doorsteps, and our units are so burnt out that one’s heart bleeds for them. Soon we will be unable to attack anything at all – the men desperately need rest.’
Such frustration was now widespread. ‘When we talk about the war,’ Lieutenant Ludwig Freiherr von Heyl of the 36th Motorised Infantry Division wrote from Kalinin on 12 November: *"we are all of the same opinion: that the official army communiqués are largely exaggeration, that the Russians are in many respects an equal opponent to us and an opponent from whom we can learn something. For despite our series of victories, they are in no way broken, they continue to resist strongly against the whole German army, and an end to the campaign may not be reached before the winter. In a larger sense, the war has reached a critical stage. *
*Further major advances are no longer possible because of the difficulties we are having with our supplies. I personally believe that by December we will no longer be able to conduct large-scale military operations at all, and – although much remains unpredictable – we will then have to switch to a protracted defence. But no preparations are being made for such an eventuality. *
We have not lost our courage or resolve, but a little realism from time to time would do no harm here. For the last three days, temperatures have dropped steadily, from −5 to −20 degrees Celsius, with light snow. The thought that the real winter is yet to come is a sobering one."
Heyl’s unit had received some reinforcements, but was still under strength, and in particular had not made good its losses in officers. ‘Yesterday our very competent second lieutenant was killed,’ Heyl continued: “He died in of all places the Corps command post in the centre of the city – it received a direct hit. This is no gentleman’s war here, but more of a brutal pillaging raid. One becomes totally numb. Human life is so cheap – cheaper than the shovels we use to clear the roads of snow. The state we have reached will seem quite unbelievable to you back home. We do not kill humans, but ‘the enemy’, who are rendered impersonal – animals at best. They behave the same way towards us.”