He was connected to Yeremenko.
'What's up then?' said Stalin abruptly. 'Have the tanks gone in yet?'
Sensing the irritation in Stalin's voice, Yeremenko quickly put out his cigarette.
'No, comrade Stalin. Tolbukhin 's just finishing the softening-up barrage. The infantry have cleaned up the front line, but the tanks haven't yet entered the breach.'
Stalin cursed loudly and put down the receiver. Yeremenko relit his cigarette and telephoned the commander of the 51st Army.
'Why haven't the tanks gone in yet?'
Holding the receiver in one hand, Tolbukhin was mopping the sweat from his chest with the other. His jacket was unbuttoned; under the open collar of his immaculately white shirt you could see the heavy folds of fat at the base of his neck. A little short of breath, he answered with the unhurried calm of an overweight man who understands in every cell of his body that too much exertion is bad for him.
'The commander of the tank corps has just reported to me: there are enemy batteries on his path that are still operational. He asked for a few minutes' delay to neutralize them with artillery fire.'
'Send the tanks in at once,' said Yeremenko curtly. 'And report back in three minutes.'
'Yes, comrade Colonel-General.'
Yeremenko wanted to curse Tolbukhin. Instead, he asked suddenly:
'How come you're breathing so heavily? Is something the matter with you?'
'No, no. I'm fine, Andrey Ivanovich. I've only just had breakfast.'
'Get on with it then,' said Yeremenko and put down the receiver. 'He's just had breakfast – he's out of breath. I ask you!' He launched into a volley of expressive and imaginative curses.
The phone rang at the observation post. You could barely hear it over the artillery fire. Novikov knew it was the army commander and that he would order him to send in his tanks at once.
He heard Tolbukhin through, thought, 'Just as I guessed,' and said: 'Yes, comrade Lieutenant-General. Immediately.'
Then he smiled in the direction of Getmanov. 'All the same, we do just need another four minutes.'
Three minutes later, Tolbukhin phoned again. Now he was no longer gasping for breath.
'Is this a joke, comrade Colonel? Why is it I can still hear artillery fire? Carry out my orders at once!'
Novikov ordered his telephonist to connect him to Lopatin, the commander of the artillery regiment. He heard Lopatin's voice, but remained silent himself; watching the second-hand of his watch, he waited for the four minutes to elapse.
'What a man!' exclaimed Getmanov with unfeigned admiration.
A minute later, when the artillery fire had died down, Novikov put on his headphones and called the commander of the leading brigade.
'Byelov?'
'Yes, comrade Corps Commander.'
Twisting his mouth into a furious, drunken cry, Novikov screamed:
'Byelov! Attack!'
The mist thickened with blue smoke. The air was alive with the rumble of motors as the tank corps entered the breach in the enemy front.
11
The aims of the Russian offensive became evident to the German commanders when, at dawn on zo November, the artillery opened fire in the Kalmyk steppe and the shock units disposed to the south of Stalingrad attacked the 4th Rumanian Army on Paulus's right flank.
The tank corps on the extreme left of the Soviet grouping entered the breach in the front between Lakes Tsatsa and Barmantsak, turned to the north-west, and advanced towards Kalach where it was to link up with the tank and cavalry corps from the Don and South-Western Fronts.
On the afternoon of 20 November, the Soviet units advancing from Serafimovich reached a point slightly to the north of Surovikino, threatening Paulus's lines of communication.
Paulus's 6th Army was, however, still unaware that it was threatened with encirclement. At six o'clock that evening Paulus's headquarters informed Baron von Weichs, the commanding officer of Army Group B, that they were intending to continue reconnaissance activities in Stalingrad on the following day.
Later that evening Paulus received an order from von Weichs to break off offensive operations in Stalingrad. He was to concentrate tank units, infantry units and anti-tank weapons along his left flank, disposing them in depth in order to withstand an attack from the north-west.
This order, received by Paulus at 9.00 p.m., marked the end of the German offensive in Stalingrad. It was, however, rendered meaningless by the speed of events.
On 21 November the Soviet units advancing from Serafimovich and Kletskaya effected a ninety-degree turn, joined together, and moved towards the Don to the north of Kalach, directly in Paulus's rear.
That same day, forty Soviet tanks appeared on the high west bank of the Don, only a few kilometres from Paulus's command-post at Golubinskaya. Another group of tanks seized a bridge over the Don without firing a shot: the German defenders mistook them for a training detachment equipped with captured Soviet tanks that often used this bridge. Soviet tanks then entered Kalach itself. And so the first lines of the encirclement of the two German armies in Stalingrad, Paulus's 6th Army and Hoth's 4th Tank Army, were sketched in. One of Paulus's finest units, the 384th Infantry Division, was disposed to the north-west to defend Paulus's rear.
Meanwhile, Yeremenko's forces were advancing from the south. They had crushed the 29th German Motorized Division, smashed the 6th Rumanian Army Corps, and were now advancing, between the Chervlennaya and Donskaya Tsaritsa rivers, on the Stalingrad-Kalach railway line.
At dusk, Novikov's tanks reached a strongly fortified Rumanian outpost. This time Novikov did not delay. He chose not to make use of the darkness in order to concentrate his forces before attacking.
At Novikov's orders, the tanks, self-propelled guns, armoured transports and troop-carriers all simultaneously switched on their headlights. Hundreds of dazzling lights tore through the darkness. A vast mass of vehicles appeared out of the steppes, deafening the Rumanian defences with the rumble of engines, the chatter of machine-gun fire and the roar of guns, blinding them with stabbing light, paralysing them with panic.
After a few brief skirmishes, the tanks continued their advance.
On the morning of 22 November, they reached Buzinovka. That same evening, east of Kalach, in the rear of the two German armies, the vanguard linked up with the tanks that had broken through from the north. By 23 November Soviet infantry units had taken up position on the rivers Shir and Aksay, securing the flanks of the shock units.
The objective defined by the Supreme Command had been attained: the German armies had been encircled within 100 hours.
What then determined the final outcome of these manoeuvres? What human will became the instrument of destiny?
At 6.00 p.m. on 22 November Paulus radioed the following message to the Headquarters of Army Group B:
'The army has been encircled. Despite heroic resistance, the whole Tsaritsa valley, the railway line from Sovietskaya to Kalach, the bridge across the Don and the high ground on the west bank are now in Russian hands… The ammunition situation is acute. We have six days' rations. I request a free hand in case we should fail to establish a perimeter defence. The situation may compel me to abandon Stalingrad itself together with the northern sector of the front…'
On the night of 22-23 November Paulus received orders from Hitler to name the zone occupied by his troops 'Fortress Stalingrad'. The preceeding order had read: 'The Army Commander will transfer his headquarters to Stalingrad itself. The 6th Army will establish a perimeter defence and await further orders.'
After a conference between Paulus and his corps commanders, Baron von Weichs telegraphed the Supreme Command: 'In spite of the terrible weight of responsibility I feel in taking this decision, I have to inform you that I fully support General Paulus's request to withdraw the 6th Army.'