On 28 March, almost at the same time as the first groups in the Altstadt were preparing to leave, an angry exchange between Hitler and Guderian took place at the Reichs Chancellery. The original reason for their meeting, Küstrin, was quickly forgotten. Hitler accused the generals of losing the war. Guderian equally bitterly rejected this accusation. The exchange ended with Guderian being sent on leave.
Meanwhile Küstrin lay under the heaviest fire and bombing. The withdrawal to the Oder Island took longer than expected, as some of the designated units were unable to leave their positions because of hefty fighting, air attacks and heavy artillery fire. The Volkssturm, now reduced from the original 900 men to only 135 still capable of combat, were meant to remain behind as a rearguard with other units, and to hand over their automatic weapons to any combat teams crossing over the railway bridge, the road bridge having already been impassable for some time.
Surprisingly, the Volkssturm personnel were belatedly assigned to the withdrawal that evening, presumably as replacements for units that were originally intended to leave but either had not received the orders or had been eliminated in the meantime. Reinefarth needed every available rifle in his new position if he was to hold out for at least another 24 hours, as it was too late for a breakout that day. At 1455 hours he received a Führer-Order to fight on to the last man–presumably the outcome of Hitler’s argument with Guderian. Soviet assault troops were in the course of establishing themselves at either end of the Island and slowly but steadily were pushing forward. But the order cancelling the original orders for the Volkssturm to hold on came too late, the bridge being blown before the eyes of the first group heading back. Only a few managed to cross in inflatable dinghies and fishing canoes. After a last commanders’ conference of those units left behind in the Altstadt held towards midnight in a bunker near the Böhmerwald restaurant, the unit commanders were given a free hand to do as they wished. The Volkssturm commander, Captain Tamm, suggested to his men that they surrender.[1]
Sergeant Horst Wewetzer was part of the grim defences of the fortress:
Soviet troops from Kietzerbusch penetrated the Altstadt on 28 March 1945. By this time the Altstadt was just one heap of rubble. During the last two weeks the Russians had been attacking two or three times a day with twin-engined dive-bombers. Hardly any of our heavy weapons were serviceable, so there was no longer any air defence, artillery or anti-tank artillery. On this last day in the Altstadt the only heavy weapons available were one 150mm heavy infantry gun with six shells, and two 75mm light infantry guns with about 30 shells left. We all knew that the end in Küstrin would come quickly, but we wanted to fight on as long as possible.
Our three guns were deployed right on the northern edge of the Altstadt. Fire directing was not possible in the Altstadt, as our observation post was in Lunette Dora, west of the Oder-Vorflut Canal, so we could only fire in front of Lunette Dora or at the edge of Kietz. If we remained on the edge of the Altstadt with our guns, there was a danger that the Russians would crush us without our being able to aim a last blast at them. I therefore sought permission to bring my gun–the heavy infantry gun–over the railway bridge to the west bank of the Oder and redeploy it at the abattoir.
By about 1800 hours on 28 March 1945 the Soviet infantry had penetrated about as far as the Schloss in the Altstadt. With the permission of the second lieutenant in charge of the gun’s firing position, I went across to Lunette Dora to get Captain Wüstenhagen’s permission to redeploy. The captain told me that he was not authorised to do so, but agreed that I should take my request to the fortress artillery chief of staff. I went straight back to the firing position and told the second lieutenant before going on to the Schloss, where the staff were still located. On my way I passed through a casemate in which I met Captain Langenhahn coming towards me clad in a steel helmet, camouflage jacket and carrying a sub-machine gun, all brand new. With him were two or three gentlemen of his department, all similarly newly equipped, and a quite deranged prisoner.
Captain Langenhahn gave the impression of being in a very excited state as I made my report. His decision was that Second-Lieutenant Schmitz should fire off the remaining ammunition, blow up the gun and then deploy with his men in a certain Altstadt street. He then disappeared in great haste. The order made no sense: it was too dark for aimed fire and there were no explosives to destroy the gun with. I later understood why the captain had been in such a hurry. Apparently the Oder bridge was about to be blown and he wanted to get across in time.
I turned back again and begged our second lieutenant, who had no front-line experience and had been combed out of Norway, to ignore Captain Langenhahn’s order and carry out the change of position on his own initiative, but he did not feel himself competent to do so. So I went back to Captain Wüstenhagen again to get him to take a personal interest in the matter and give the orders, but he refused. Even if everything fell apart, strict obedience to superior orders applied.
It was at about 2100 or 2200 hours–in any case it was fully dark–when I set off to return to my battery in the Altstadt again. I was just about level with the abattoir where we had another gun in position, although damaged and no longer operational, and approaching the railway bridge to cross the Oder, when I was ordered to take cover as the bridge was about to be blown. As my gun team was still over there, I asked if all the soldiers in the Altstadt had come across, but received no answer and was once more ordered to take cover, so I went back to the cellars in the nearby abattoir.
Once the bridge had been blown, I went to Lunette Dora again to tell the captain that he was now without any guns, but when I returned to the abattoir I met all of my gun team except for one man. Staff-Corporal Macknow had long before, and without informing anyone, acquired a large rubber dinghy from the engineer stores and hidden it on the Oder river bank. Once the line of retreat over the bridge had been cut, he led his comrades to the dinghy, inflated it and crossed the river. Only Corporal Block had refused to come. He could not swim and was afraid of drowning should something happen to the dinghy.[2]
Officer-Cadet Corporal Fritz Kohlase recalled:
I remained two days in the Middle School. Here were wounded for whom no immediate operation was necessary. Early in the morning and in the evening we were given a thick slice of bread with canned meat and a large glass of cognac. Two of the field hospital personnel stood out on account of their goodness, peacefulness and personalities, one a woman wearing the golden Nazi Party badge on her jacket, and the head of the hospital, a fat lieutenant whom I only saw wearing his steel helmet in the cellar.
There was the constant sound of explosions coming from outside. The building shook, sometimes more, sometimes less. Only at night was it quiet, except for a little artillery fire. I found nobody I knew. News was hard to come by, only rumours. The radio merely gave the Wehrmacht Reports, commenting among other things on the increased attacks on Küstrin and the advance of the Americans on the Lower Main River.
In a small neighbouring room there was a pile of books on the floor. I sought out Apis und Este and Das war das Ende by Bruno Behm, but I could not read. I now realised that I had become nervous and that my hands were trembling a little.
On Wednesday the sounds of battle increased considerably. The Altstadt lay under constant attack from Soviet bombers and ground-attack aircraft and artillery fire. The constant howling, roaring, explosions and crackling broke through the regular discharge of our ‘Stukas zu Fuss’ that must have been stationed in the immediate vicinity of the Middle School. The noise and shuddering was so strong that we failed to notice when a heavy bomb hit the school; fortunately it was a dud that stuck in the ground floor.