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With time short, and facing the imminent transfer on 18 November of part of Luftflotte 2 to the Mediterranean, Army Group Center hastened preparations to resume the offensive. As it was considered virtually impossible to envelop Moscow, the plan now called for the Ninth Army and the Third Panzergruppe in the north to advance to the Volga reservoir and the Moscow-Volga Canal, then turn south toward the capital. In the center, the Fourth Panzergruppe and elements of the left wing of the Fourth Army would strike toward the northwest suburbs of Moscow, although Kluge opposed the idea of attacking with his right wing. To the south, the Second Panzer Army was to swing north through Tula and Kolomna. The pitifully weak Second Army was to protect the southern flank of the army group while also thrusting to the Don and capturing Voronezh, even though it could expect no help from the Sixth Army of Army Group South. Even this limited attack, which Bock dismissed as “no great strategic masterpiece,” had little chance of success since the mobile forces on the wings were too weak to meet at Moscow and the troops to be used in the frontal assault were no longer considered capable of attack. Moreover, to succeed, the operation would have to be launched simultaneously in every sector to prevent the Russians from shifting forces to imperiled areas. The Fourth Army’s inability to attack with most of its units, however, meant that it would be incapable of tying down enemy troops. Moreover, the attacking units faced crippling shortages of men and materiel, with infantry companies down to fifty to sixty men. Since the start of Operation Typhoon, Army Group Center had suffered 87,000 casualties, which brought its total to nearly 317,000 men, or almost half of all the casualties in the Ostheer to date. Despite this, the army group had received no replacements since the beginning of October and had been forced to transfer four divisions. In literally throwing his last battalion into the battle in hopes of tipping the balance, Bock had to remind his commanders at the outset that they were on their own since the army group had only a single division in reserve.85

Serious logistic problems that went from bad to worse compounded the critical manpower shortage. Trucks moving supplies from the railheads had long since gotten stuck to their axles in the deep mud. When the weather froze in mid-November, the trucks were hauled out, but many suffered severe damage in the process: the Fourth Army had been reduced to barely a tenth of its original complement of trucks, while 50 percent of Army Group Center’s truck fleet was out of action. Even those vehicles that remained were frequently immobilized by a lack of anti-freeze. “What stupidity is this,” exclaimed one soldier, “starting an attack with units whose trucks will not move?” Resupply by rail, now vital to sustain any further advance, continued to deteriorate as well in the freezing conditions. As the temperatures plummeted, some 70–80 percent of German steam locomotives, whose water pipes, unlike those of Russian engines, were outside their boilers, froze and burst, contributing to a supply crisis that reached epic proportions. Only five fuel trains reached the Ninth Army between 23 October and 23 November, but this dwarfed the number arriving at the Second Army, which received only one fuel train and virtually no supply trains from the end of October. Often, the contents of even those trains that did arrive could not be distributed since many trucks lacked fuel. Little wonder, then, that, when the chief of staff of the Second Panzer Army saw that it had been assigned the task of seizing Gorky, some three hundred miles east of Moscow, he burst out in frustration, “This is not May again and we are not fighting in France.” He succeeded in altering the immediate objective to Venev, just thirty miles beyond Tula, but doubted that even that could be reached. In a moment of rare strategic reality, even Halder admitted privately, “The time for spectacular operational feats is past…. The only course lies in purposeful exploitation of tactical opportunities.”86

The Wehrmacht had also sacrificed the element of surprise since Moscow was the only objective left of any merit. Once Typhoon had come to a standstill in late October, the Soviets had busied themselves with extensive reinforcements to their field positions, constructing defenses in depth, laying a sizable number of mines, creating hundreds of kilometers of antitank ditches, and preparing bunkers, strongpoints, dugouts, and artillery positions. Workers’ battalions, the civilian population of Moscow, and even the fighting troops toiled away at the defenses around the city, all designed to delay a German attack by forcing it to continue breaking through new positions until, ultimately, it exhausted itself. The hilly and wooded terrain also aided the defenders, as did the proximity of the Moscow supply base and the extensive system of intact railways, which allowed rapid delivery of troops and supplies to any sector of the front. Additionally, while German air support had noticeably slackened, the Red Army benefited from the large number of well-placed airfields around the city. A steady stream of reinforcements also arrived during November, divisions from Siberia, Central Asia, and the Far East as well as hastily raised and trained units. On top of this, the Soviet command hustled wounded soldiers back to the front in order to reemploy battle-experienced men. While German numbers were seriously depleted, therefore, the Stavka now managed to array eighty-four divisions and twenty brigades against the seventy-three divisions left to Army Group Center. The Soviets had made it clear that they intended to fight for Moscow. “Russia is big,” went Zhukov’s exhortation to the defenders, “but there is no room to retreat. Moscow is behind us.”87

When the Ninth Army opened the final phase of Operation Typhoon on 15 November, followed the next day by attacks by the Third Panzergruppe and elements of the Fourth Panzergruppe to the north of Moscow, progress was surprisingly good. Despite tough initial resistance, the Germans had by the eighteenth broken though Soviet lines south of the Volga reservoir and moved on Klin. Almost by chance they had struck at a vulnerable spot in the Russian defenses created by Stalin’s insistence on the thirteenth that Zhukov launch a series of spoiling attacks. The Soviet forces had sustained heavy casualties, which contributed to a weakness in the Soviet defenses that the Third Panzergruppe now exploited. Although, for a time, it appeared that Zhukov’s entire right flank might collapse, the Russian attacks had not been entirely a failure since they had convinced Kluge, commanding the Fourth Army, to halt his attack and go over to the defensive, thus creating a pocket in the center between the two enveloping panzer prongs. To the south, the Second Panzer Army, with only 150 tanks remaining of the 400 it had in September, on the eighteenth pushed around Tula, where it had been tied down for weeks, in the direction of Kolomna. Guderian’s forces broke through Soviet defenses in the face of stout resistance, but the failure of the Fourth Army to advance caused a salient to form based on Tula that immediately threatened the inner flank of the Second Panzer Army’s left wing. Since the Second Army, on the army group’s southern flank, was heading east toward Kursk and Voronezh, it could offer little support to Guderian. Despite these early gains, a shortage of fuel that halted operations in some areas as early as the eighteenth meant that the German attack increasingly resembled a feeble thumb and finger unlikely ever to meet at Moscow.88

By now, the sputtering offensive had assumed a distinctly surreal quality since it was apparent to commanders at the front, if not to the OKH, that they lacked strength to go on—and in persisting only put their troops, and perhaps the entire Ostheer, at risk. Seemingly in his own fantasy world where wishful thinking clouded hard realism, Halder dismissed reports about the poor condition of the troops, writing on the twenty-first, “It is true, they did have to fight hard and a very long way; and still they have come through victoriously…. So we may hope that they will be able to fight on, even against the repeatedly reinforced enemy until a favorable closing line is reached.” This last task, however, was clearly beyond their abilities. By the twentieth, the German offensive in the south had largely run its course. That day, Guderian informed the army group that his attack northeastward would have to be suspended because of the serious threat to his flank, continuing fuel shortages, heavy casualties, and the exhaustion of his troops. The next day, Bock noted gloomily, “Many second lieutenants are leading battalions, one first lieutenant leads a regiment, regimental combat strengths of 250 men, also the cold and inadequate shelter…, the overexertion of units…. It is doubtful if we can go any further.” Nonetheless, Bock urged Guderian on; his forces did make further gains over the next two days, but on the twenty-third he met with Bock to impress on him the reality of the situation. His troops could seize a few more objectives, Guderian stressed, but none would have any decisive impact, while his army, bled to death, would be left “hanging in the air” with open flanks on both sides. Bock, sobered by this pessimistic assessment from the usually optimistic Guderian, now realized the full gravity of the situation: “the eleventh hour” was approaching, and troop strength had been reduced to such a degree that his troops would be unlikely to mount any resistance in case of Soviet attack.89