The Soviets having brought the Germans to a standstill, the time had come for them to go over to the counteroffensive, an action that resulted, over the next few months, in a vicious dogfight as both sides struggled in the shadow of the events of 1812. The initial Soviet intent was modest: to force the enemy away from Moscow in order to eliminate the immediate threat to the capital. The Soviet plan originally aimed not at the large-scale encirclement and destruction of German forces but merely at biting off the Third and Fourth Panzergruppen as well as the Second Panzer Army to the south. The point of main effort was in the north, where German forces had penetrated closest to the city, with the objective of relieving pressure on the Moscow-Volga Canal and driving toward Klin. While the central sector was supposed to contain German troops and prevent their deployment elsewhere, a stronger southern wing was to rupture the link between the Second Panzer Army and the Second Army and thrust deep into the rear of the former, threatening it with encirclement. Still, the Soviets hoped merely to push the Germans back some thirty miles in the north and sixty miles in the south. Armed with good intelligence indicating a lack of supplies and instances of panic among German troops, Zhukov believed the enemy to be exhausted and likely to be caught off balance, but he was unwilling to risk anything more ambitious in view of the enfeebled state of his own men.3
Although most of the Soviet troops were untried in battle, they were at least fresh and warmly dressed as they launched their attack in bitter cold on the morning of 5 December. That night the temperature had again plunged, so, when reports of enemy action came in, the Germans discovered, to their distress, that tanks failed to start, machine guns and artillery would not fire because lubricants and oil had congealed in their recoil mechanisms, and many men suffered from frostbite. The assault, led by shock armies heavy in armor, motorized vehicles, and automatic weapons, succeeded in breaking through German lines, but both it and attacks over the next two days in the center and south failed to meet Soviet expectations. The pace of the advance was disappointingly slow as Red Army commanders still lacked experience in executing offensive operations. As a result, time and again they would attack German positions frontally rather than bypassing points of resistance to drive deep into the enemy flank and rear. Still, Russian successes raised immediate concerns since German efforts to shift troops to stem the tide were hampered by lack of fuel, equipment breakdowns, icy roads, massive snowdrifts that blocked rail lines, and the general exhaustion of the troops. Gradually, the many local penetrations and the serious damage done to some German divisions had a cumulative impact that allowed Soviet forces to advance deep into the rear and threaten supply lines.4
Although front commanders sent increasingly panicked messages, Hitler and the OKH were slow to recognize the brewing disaster. In a detailed discussion of the military situation with Halder on the sixth, Hitler dismissed German and enemy casualty figures as not reflective of the true fighting strength of the two armies. Nor did the Führer entertain any notion of abandoning territory to shorten the line and, thus, free up troops. Instead, his thoughts had turned already to planning for the spring offensive. Brauchitsch, amazingly enough, even issued orders to Army Group Center that, “after the conclusion of the operation against Moscow,” it was to organize itself so as to turn away the Russian attacks directed at its center and flanks. Halder was only slightly less deluded; he took note of Soviet actions but regarded them as merely of limited tactical importance.5
By the eighth, however, enemy pressure on the left flank of Army Group Center had built to such an extent that Bock felt compelled to shake the OKH out of its illusions. Not least, he was influenced by dire warnings from the Third Panzergruppe that its forces were no longer operational as well as a bleak telephone call from the usually confident Guderian, who warned of a growing “crisis of confidence.” Bock now presented his quandary to Halder in stark terms. If he was to have any chance of holding the line, he needed immediate replacements and supplies, which were not likely to arrive in time. If, on the other hand, he attempted a withdrawal, the deep snow, shortage of fuel, and lack of tractors to pull the heavy weapons meant that an enormous loss of equipment and supplies was unavoidable. His troops would, thus, arrive at unprepared defensive positions with no heavy weapons with which to halt the Russian advance. Bock had posed a devil’s dilemma: German troops could fight where they were, and likely be destroyed, or carry out a large-scale withdrawal, with the threat that any retreat might turn into a rout. Halder attempted to reassure him by dismissing the attacking Russian units as only rear elements and untrained recruits, adding, “I presume that [the Russian counterattacks] will continue until the middle or end of the month and then things will quiet down.” To that Bock replied bitterly, “By then, the Army Group will be kaputt.” Aghast, Halder tersely rejoined, “The German soldier does not go kaputt.”6
Despite Halder’s bravado, things looked rather different at the front. Even as Bock snatched all available men from logistics, signals, and headquarters units and transferred rear security divisions to the front, the Germans proved unable either to halt the breakthroughs or to eliminate the growing gaps in their lines. By the tenth, a near-complete breakdown of the transportation system led to a rations crisis, with virtually no supplies getting through to the troops. On the thirteenth, the Sixth Panzer Division reported that it had only 350 riflemen and no tanks, while, three days later, the Seventh Panzer was left with only 200 men, ten fighting vehicles, and no heavy tanks: the last one had broken down and been blown up. Continuous fighting had brought the Landsers to the brink of physical and mental collapse. Morale suffered as confidence in the higher command faltered, a private complaining on 6 December, “My God, what is this Russia going to do to us all? Our superiors must… listen to us, otherwise, in this state, we are going to go under.” Sacrifices were not unexpected, noted another, “but when nothing of use” resulted, “then that is something to think about.” Discipline and order mingled with panic and unalloyed fear at the prospect of being captured by the Russians. A Third Panzergruppe report illuminated well the dramatic state of impending collapse: “Discipline is breaking down. More and more soldiers are heading west on foot without weapons, leading a calf on a rope or pulling a sled loaded with potatoes. The road is under constant air attack. Those killed by bombs are no longer being buried. All the hangers on… are pouring back to the rear in full flight.” A system of strongpoints slowed the Russian advance but left individual Landsers with a sense of isolation and abandonment. As Harald Henry despaired, “I seem to be the last single survivor from the whole company.”7