Krausser’s train, at the end of January 1944, was in a race with the Red Army to reach Sebastopol. The route von Geyr and Krausser had worked out is probably the route Krausser intended to follow: cross the Dnieper at Alexandrovsk; down through Melitopol, then across the steppes to Taganach; then over the railroad bridge onto the Crimean isthmus, and thence across Crimea into Sebastopol.
What happened to the Germans at Sebastopol is a matter of record; what happened to Krausser, his train and his Jagdsonderkommando is not.
Sebastopol was the Nazis’ Dunkirk. The city had been leveled in the early months of the war; but the harbor was intact and the German Black Sea navy used the port as its principal base, mainly for the purpose of intimidating the vacillating Turks and supporting the German war effort in Greece.
After the fall of the southern Ukraine, the Crimean peninsula was cut off from overland communication with Germany and the use of the German Black Sea navy as a support unit in Greece became impossible because the navy had no access to supplies from Germany. Nevertheless Hitler seemed more preoccupied about the possibility that the Turks might enter the war against him than he was about the fact that the Russians were already destroying his armies. At least that is the commonly accepted historical explanation for his maniacal—and evidently pointless—defense of Sebastopol. It is possible [although there is no proof yet] that one reason the Führer needed to keep the port open was his expectation that Jagdsonderkommando Ein would still manage to break through the Russian encirclement somehow and deliver into German hands the billions of Reichsmarks’ worth of gold which by now must have assumed the proportions of a magic talisman in Hitler’s deranged thoughts. (Clearly it was far too late to buy a victory.)
The German Festung Sewastopol did not manage to match the Russian record for withstanding a siege.
The Russians took Sebastopol in four days. Total German losses were in excess of one hundred thousand.
When the city fell on May 8, 1944, there was no sign of Heinz Krausser, his Jagdsonderkommando, his train, or Kolchak’s gold.
The clues are cryptic.
[Every time a train stops to take on water or fuel, or switch engines, or be shunted onto a siding to await the converse passage of another train, some yard bureaucrat must make a twitch in his logbook. Railroads everywhere are like that: records are kept of the location of every engine and every railway car at all times because it is the only way for the system to keep tabs on its rolling stock. In wartime some of these regulations were disregarded, and even when they were obeyed the records did not always survive. But each train is assigned a dispatching number which it retains as long as it retains its entity as a train: that is, from the time it is assembled until the time it is dispersed and its pieces of rolling stock are used to combine in other trains.]
….Train #S-1428-CB, 3000 kilos coal.… T #S-1428-CB, north switch 1100 hrs 28 Jan 44.… S-1428-CB held 2325-0118 hhs for priority routing Troop Train V-8339-CJ.…
The spoor of Krausser’s train could be traced from its starting point in Siberia to the marshaling yards of Saratov, at the northerly edge of the Volgograd Reservoir. From that point to the Crimea, however, is a distance of more than one thousand kilometers by rail, and there are several alternate route approaches. The wake of Krausser’s train, beginning in February 1944, becomes progressively harder to find.
[This much is revealed by the surviving records:] On February 3 the train passed through the rail junction at Balashov, taking the westerly branch; on February 9 it appeared in the vicinity of Kharkov, heading for Poltava; on February 12 it reappeared at Kharkov, apparently having turned back after Krausser had found out the state of the war front ahead of him. The German lines were now well to the west of Kiev, or some six hundred kilometers west of Kharkov.
The train wasted at least another week in false starts in a westerly direction before Krausser apparently decided he had to give up that attempt and strike out along the alternate route instead—toward the Crimea.
An adamant official in the switching yards at Gorlovka held the train up for two and a half days on account-of priority munitions movements; that this took place is not surprising—Krausser had had amazingly good luck up till then in keeping his train moving—but there is the curious fact that this delay took place on February 28 through March 2, 1944; the train had taken more than two weeks to traverse the three hundred kilometers between those two points. No dispatching records from intermediate stations have turned up in Russian archives. Apparently Krausser had been held up—once or several times—en route to Gorlovka.
One pictures the frenzied desperation with which Jagdsonderkommando Ein now faced the passage of every day, every hour. And now, on March 2, the dispatcher at Gorlovka only allowed the train to leave in one direction—eastward. Documents show that “Lieutenant Razin” was ordered to get his train out of the way because of urgent priority trains which were continuously arriving from the north. The train left on the evening of the second, going in the direction of Lugansk, where duly it arrived on March 4—nearly a hundred kilometers farther from the German lines than it had been two days earlier.
No further specific records have turned up. The train disappears at Lugansk, still some six hundred kilometers from the Crimea.
The records of a Red Army Graves Registration team for April 13, 1944, show that eighteen Russian soldiers were buried the preceding day on the outskirts of a deserted Jewish shtetl about fifteen kilometers northeast of Rostov, near the Don. Listed among the dead are First Lieutenant Yevgeni Razin and People’s Commissar Ivan Samsonov. The names of the sixteen remaining dead are the same, with certain variations in spelling, as the Russian cover-names of sixteen enlisted and noncommissioned members of Jagdsonderkommando Ein. Cause of death in the GR team’s report is listed as “combat casualties the result of warfare, probably against counterrevolutionary bandits”—a customary euphemism for partisans. [The anti-Communist Ukrainian army was fiercely active in that area during that period.]
The GR report leaves eleven commando members unaccounted for until one examines the attached lists of personal effects found on the bodies. On the body of “Commissar Samsonov” were found the metal Russian identity tags and papers of the eleven remaining team members. [One must conclude they had died in earlier engagements and been buried by the survivors.]
As a result it is clear that the twenty-nine men of Jagdsonderkommando Ein were wiped out without exception. [However it is also evident that the bodies were found many miles from the nearest railway track; that it is not possible for twenty-nine men to carry any significant portion of five hundred tons of gold on their persons; and that in any case no gold was reported to have been found on or near the bodies. Furthermore there is no record of the reappearance of the Krausser train as a train: that is, as an assembled entity. There are, however, ample records to prove the reappearance of several goods wagons and both locomotives which had been assigned to the train.] Both locomotives appear in an April 17 report from the marshaling yard at Donetsk, where they were used in assembling a munitions train which was dispatched to the front at Korosten. Of the numbered goods wagons, three appeared in April at Makeyevka and two others were incorporated into a heavy-weapons train being assembled at Gorlovka on May 3.
[The conclusion to be drawn from this seems inescapable: Krausser must have removed the gold from the train, hidden the gold, moved the empty train to one of the busy switching yards in South Russia, and abandoned it there, after which he must have concluded that the only recourse left open was to make his way back to Germany and report on his mission, in hopes von Geyr or someone else in higher authority would be able to come up with a new plan for extracting the treasure from Soviet territory.