He ran his hand through his unruly hair, which kept falling into his eyes.
‘But of course the “Greatest Commander of All Time”[1] must also accomplish a defeat the like of which the world has never seen!’
He reached for the bottle to refill the glasses. Captain Engelhard signalled that he had had enough. His strict code of correctness was scandalized at seeing a fellow officer drop his inhibitions like this.
‘Major, I beg you,’ he said in deliberately measured tones, ‘you’ve really overstepped the mark there! I just don’t understand how you can cast aspersions on the Führer. Mistakes have been made all down the line, especially by minions who aren’t remotely a match for the genius of the great man. None of this will have the slightest effect on Hitler’s rightful place in history, let alone tarnish it. Hitler stands far above us; he’s a unique secular phenomenon who’s immune to any criticism. He is “beyond Good and Evil”; there’s something of the Nietzschean “superman” about him!’
Again he cast an expectant eye at the camp bed in the corner. Surely if the lieutenant colonel had been asleep then this heated conversation would have woken him by now. But Unold made not the slightest sound; he was far away from all discussions of supermen. Also, Siebel had barely listened to Engelhard’s rant. His eyes were already glazing over.
‘Oh Christ,’ he said, clutching at Breuer’s shoulder, ‘when I think of my fiancée it’s enough to give me the screaming abdabs. We’ve sacrificed the best years of our lives to that criminal shit, and now he’s letting us go to the dogs… Come on, let’s drink! It’s the only thing that makes any sense any more!’
Breuer drank. He could feel the alcohol going to his head. Engelhard stared fixedly ahead, his fingers drumming on the table.
‘Tell me honestly, Captain,’ asked Breuer. ‘How do you think this will all end here?’
Engelhard took a deep breath.
‘Well, we’re going to hold out until the bitter end. And maybe we’ll be lucky enough to be picked off in the process. But if not, there’s always our own pistols… Or would you rather be force-marched to Siberia, and eat raw flesh from corpses along the way?’
Siebel, his face red from exasperation and alcohol, slammed down his hand, which had been propping up his head, hard on the table. ‘Even if I’m forced to work for ten years in a lead mine and have to eat dirt!’ he shouted, ‘I’m telling you, Engelhard, that I’ve done my duty as a soldier, d’you hear me! I earned my Knight’s Cross honestly, not like some people! I sacrificed my arm and never complained – but I’m not putting a bullet through my own head! I want to get back home! And then, Engelhard, there’ll be a reckoning. Payback for what those bastards have done to us!’
He got to his feet unsteadily and reached for his coat. Engelhard waved his hand at Breuer, in whose befuddled brain Siebel’s words had coalesced into spectral visions, and pulled his own fur coat on to accompany the two of them outside. Unold was still lying prone on his bed. He didn’t move a muscle, but his breath was now coming in heavy pants, while his wide-open eyes stared sightlessly at the ceiling.
Not far from the parking lot in the snow-covered valley bottom of the ‘forested ravine’ stood a group of soldiers. Men from Colonel von Hermann’s staff and some of those who in the past few days had entered the gorge from the west and infested its villages like a swarm of locusts. Only a few of them noticed the lieutenant colonel who had just stepped out of a rattling Kübelwagen; they bestirred their tired limbs to give him a salute. The others were hanging, full of desperate hope, on the words of an anti-aircraft gunner who was addressing them, and gesticulating wildly as he spoke:
‘What if I tell you that German tanks are on the high road above the Don? Only thirty kilometres from here!’
Lieutenant Colonel Dannemeister stopped in his tracks.
‘What’s that you’re saying?’
The men around the speaker nudged him and he turned round. Shocked at the sight of an officer, he snapped to attention and saluted. ‘Begging your pardon, Lieutenant Colonel, sir!’ he stammered. ‘I didn’t see you—’
‘Who told you this nonsense about tanks, I’d like to know!’
‘The tanks? Um, our CO announced it. This morning, in front of the whole battery!’
‘Well, it’s rubbish!’ barked the lieutenant colonel. ‘Complete drivel! Don’t you dare go spreading rumours like that here!’ As he went on his way, the officer cursed under his breath: ‘Brilliant! Another bloody leak!’
‘Yes, sir, Lieutenant Colonel!’ the gunner shouted after him. Then, with a sly grin, he turned to the men around him and whispered: ‘Hear that? There you have it – “another leak”! See, the whole thing’s still top secret!’
In the divisional CO’s bunker the lieutenant colonel found the regimental commanders and leaders of the independent units already gathered, around ten officers in all. They were standing around, murmuring and whispering to one another. Colonel von Hermann had only been waiting for the arrival of his adjutant to begin proceedings. His clean-shaven face and crisp uniform stood out among the stubble beards and the grubby fur jackets, in an underground space that reeked of sweat and damp leather.
‘Gentlemen,’ began the colonel, ‘you’re all aware of the current situation. Pitomnik is lost, and we’ll only be able to hold Gumrak for a few more days. That’s the end of the Cauldron. In these circumstances the High Command is toying with the idea of a “breakout on all sides”. In other words: each of the divisions that are still capable of fighting needs to muster its entire operational strength and use it to achieve a surprise breakthrough of the enemy sector facing it, and then drive deep into their heartland. For our division, that would mean breaking out east across the Volga, then swinging round to the south to attack the Russian artillery positions from the rear before crossing the Volga again south of Stalingrad. Somewhere around there we can expect to link up with the Fourth Corps.’ The colonel shot a swift glance at the uncomprehending faces of his officers. His pale-blue eyes had a dusty look. Then he went on. Restrained tension resonated alongside the cool objectivity of his voice.
‘The military purpose of this operation is to sow confusion behind enemy lines. In addition, the hope is that large numbers of their forces will be tied down in giving pursuit.’
The officers looked at one another and then at the colonel. His face was impassive. A wave of indignation and derision arose.
‘What’s the meaning of this?’ – ‘To the east of all places, across the Volga… why don’t we just keep going until we get to Japan?’ – ‘What utter nonsense!’
The colonel raised his hand.
‘Gentlemen, please! The first thing we must do is to find out how the men will react to such a plan.’
The CO of the artillery regiment, a major in the reserves, who was a small, bustling man with a florid alcoholic complexion, took out of his mouth the cigar stub he’d been busily sucking on throughout the meeting.
‘Well, I reckon the plan isn’t at all bad,’ he announced. ‘Only trouble is, it’s come far too late! We’ve already spiked our guns and our ammunition’s all gone. But if there’s a real chance of breaking through to our lines, even if only some of the units make it, then that’s a pretty good plan to my mind.’
He looked around the room, waiting in vain for agreement from his fellow officers, and lapsed into silence. Colonel von Hermann closed his eyes for a moment.
‘I’m afraid that’s out of the question,’ he said. ‘The front is almost three hundred kilometres from here. Our troops are half-starved and exhausted, and our transport units are dispersed. We can’t now undo the mistakes that were made when the Cauldron was first created; that’s not the intention anyhow. The whole operation is meant to be a kind of suicide mission – nothing more, nothing less. It’s a way of short-circuiting the business of “fighting on to the last bullet”, speeding up our annihilation while inflicting as much damage on the enemy as we possibly can. That’s its sole purpose. There’s no longer any question of saving the Sixth Army.’
1
‘Greatest Commander of All Time’ – German: