On the 14th and 15th April the Front’s various armies carried out powerful reconnaissances. This confused the enemy. A captured officer made the following statement: ‘At first one thought that the attack would begin on the 14th April, then one estimated the 15th April. Finally one was convinced that the Soviet troops had actually postponed their attack.’
The change in the weather may have contributed to this conclusion. Thick fog lay over the ground and the bed of the Oder River was completely covered. Karakoz and I did not leave the command post all night. There was already enough excitement, and now came the bitter blow played by the weather!
But finally it took pity on us. At dawn on the 16th April a fresh wind arose and the fog dispersed. Before daybreak the thunder of the guns announced that the 1st Byelorussian Front had begun the Berlin operation. Following a half-hour artillery preparation, the 1st Polish Army went into the attack at 0615 hours.
It seemed as if the enemy had never and nowhere defended themselves so bitterly as at the Oder. From the start our troops had to repel one counterattack after another. Nevertheless they still broke through the enemy defence and advanced 5 or 6 kilometres. In doing so the 1st Division remained somewhat behind the other units. It had to cross the river fighting. A small gap opened between our army and the 61st Army, and the 1st Division had to keep an eye on their right flank the whole time. Under these circumstances I placed the 6th Infantry Division in the gap during the night leading to the 17th April and ordered it to secure the Army against thrusts from the north. Communications with the divisions worked well and the reports on the progress of the fighting arrived at the command post on time.
The 3rd Infantry Division had the greatest success, its commander, Zaikovski, having been promoted brigadier-general meanwhile. Its units advanced 7 kilometres and took Altwriezen, Altmädewitz and Neukietz, the regiment on the left flank reaching the northern edge of Wriezen.
Members of the 47th Army had already penetrated the town from the south. In order to speed things up, I had the 4th Infantry Division drive into the sector between Zaikovski’s division and the 47th Army. The enemy now gave up Wriezen and quickly withdrew his units, our troops hard on his heels.
Once the 5th Light Division had been driven back to the Alte Oder, our units made an advance of 15 kilometres. Then they came up against a new enemy, a training formation thrown against us, the 156th Infantry Division. Once our units had repulsed six of their counterattacks one after the other, they advanced a further 10 kilometres and reached the line Trampe–Danewitz–Schmetzdorf.
The gap between us and the 47th Army was now almost 10 kilometres, so the Front introduced the 7th Guards Cavalry Corps at this juncture. As the situation consolidated straight away, it was possible to increase the speed of attack.
Late on the evening of the 20th April our Army and the 61st Army resumed the attack. I let fresh forces – the 6th Infantry Division and the cavalry brigade – into the attack. This developed immediately. Towards noon on the 23rd April, our units, in close collaboration with the Soviet cavalry, forced the Oder–Havel Canal in the Oranienburg area and hit the 3rd Naval Division that the enemy had hastily thrown in here from other sectors of the front.
The Army headquarters crossed over to Birkenwerder, an idyllic corner. Surrounded by woods, the whole place was submerged in greenery. The first flowers of spring adorned the gardens of fine-looking villas. Everything invited rest and recuperation, but that was not for us. We soon moved the headquarters on to another place.
Immediately before leaving, three German workers approached us. I invited them inside a house and offered them Havana cigars that we had captured. Each one gratefully took a cigar, but did not light them, pocketing them instead. The visitors had come to thank us for their liberation. The oldest – he must have been well into his sixties – affirmed that they greeted the defeat of Fascist Germany with all their hearts. ‘I am a Communist,’ he said, ‘and these two are both partyless Anti-Fascists. Threatened with death, we have had to hide ourselves. Your victory has given us the opportunity to breathe freely again.’
‘And what do the other workers of Birkenwerder think?’ I asked.
‘The whole population is frightened by Goebbels’ propaganda, but many are gradually beginning to understand that you are bringing us peace, progress and democracy, of which, General, you may be convinced.’
The words of the German workers sounded sincere and strengthened my hope that the fate of future Germany would lie in the hands of such Anti-Fascists. The German Communist gave me a tobacco pipe that I still have today.
I told Jaroszevic about the encounter with the German workers. He was also of the view that the German population would recognise the deceitfulness of the Fascist propaganda more every day.
And so it happened. Gradually the ice in the relationships between the population and our troops began to melt. The people were more communicative. They chatted with the soldiers more often, and asked questions about Poland and the Soviet Union. They offered their help in repairing the roads and crossing places. Children and old folk lined up at the field kitchens with eating utensils in their hands.
On the 24th April the units of our army, which had advanced 80 kilometres fighting, had reached the line Kremmen–Flatow–Börnicke–Nauen and had gone onto the defensive as instructed. They had to cover the right flank of the Front’s main group, which was completing the encirclement of Berlin.
Already the next day it became obvious that the enemy had in no way been beaten. At daybreak elements of the 25th Motorised Infantry, the 3rd Naval and the 4th Police Divisions undertook a counterattack. Especially strong was the pressure on the junction between the 5th and 6th Polish Infantry Regiments. The regiments were unable to stand the pressure and withdrew 3 kilometres. In doing so the commander of the 2nd Infantry Division, Colonel Surzyc, made a mistake, enabling the enemy to make a small bridgehead on the south bank of the Ruppiner Canal.
The attackers were stopped thanks to the heroism and resourcefulness of the gunners of the 2nd Howitzer Brigade under Colonel Wikientiev and the anti-tank brigade of Colonel Dejniechovski firing at point-blank range.
In the end we needed two days to clear the area of the enemy. Surzyc’s failure had cost us dear. Certainly he was a young commander and took the failure to heart, as also did Rotkievicz, who had commanded this division shortly before.
We established ourselves temporarily on a 40 kilometre wide sector and prepared for a thrust towards the Elbe River, the Army headquarters moving to Marwitz.
On the way to Paaren, where the operational staff were located, we came across Ribbentrop’s country mansion. It lay in a thick wood of ancient oak and beech trees on a picturesque lake. A high iron fence shielded it from the outside world. Within the mansion was an underground bunker reached by a lift with upholstered walls and benches.
I visited room after room fully astounded over the unusual luxury, cut across the sports room with wall bars and rings, and looked at the treatment room with its most modern medical apparatus and the air conditioning engine room. I looked at the expensive crockery, crystal vessels, weapons and hunting trophies, and thought of the Goebbels-like pomposity that I had seen from afar as I drove past Lanke. There, rising above a lake before a background of a cloudless sky, and particularly picturesque to look at, stood a still more luxurious palace than Ribbentrop’s, the summer residence of the Fascist Reichs Minister for Propaganda, with its turrets and much ornamentation.