Soon afterwards a message arrived from Mohnke’s command post explaining what had happened was due to a misunderstanding and that the order given that morning was now nul and void.
I returned to my sector at about 1000 hours, not before begging Lieutenant Colonel Seifert to finally return the men of the Nordland and the Frenchmen that were still in his sector.
Towards noon I received an order to immediately place the last ‘Tiger’ tank of our tank battalion at SS-General Mohnke’s disposition. No indication of what was happening at higher level filtered through to us.
At 1900 hours I was summoned by SS-General Mohnke and took my operations officer (Ia) and adjutant with me. SS-Major-General Ziegler approached me in the antechamber to the command post, saying: ‘It has just been announced that Hitler committed suicide yesterday after-noon. Apparently he married Fegelein’s sister-in-law. The latter tried to flee from the Chancellery in civilian clothes and has been shot. Goebbels and his family are also dead!’
Then SS-General Ziegler added that for several days now no one had expected Wenck’s army to succeed, and that the negotiations with the west, entered into with too great an optimism, had failed. We had been deceived from above on all these points for several days now. All the sacrifices made by the troops had been in vain. We had been abused in the worst possible way. How was I going to tell those under my command when I could reproach myself most for my good faith?
SS-General Mohnke appeared after a long wait accompanied by Reich Youth Leader Axmann and in short sentences told me what I already knew from SS-General Ziegler. Then he recalled the nocturnal attempt by General Krebs to obtain an immediate stop to the fighting in Berlin to prevent any further shedding of blood. General Chuikov facing us refused and demanded an unconditional surrender.
This was unacceptable. Thus, basing himself on a very old order, SS-General Mohnke asked me if I, being the most senior officer in my rank, would continue to assure the defence of the city, in which case all troops still available would be placed under my command. I rejected this stupid idea.
Then, he said, there is nothing else to do than follow the order already given by General Weidling for the remainder of the Berlin garrison to attempt to pierce the Soviet encirclement in small groups. In answer to my question, he said that the rest was up to every one of us; the general direction was Neuruppin and then on in a north-westerly direction.
Everything was now on the move. It was impossible to obtain information about the situation in other parts of the city. Each of the groups assembling with a view to breaking out had to make its own necessary reconnaissance.
Finally, in order to avoid chaos, the news of the death of Hitler and the other events we had been told about were not to be divulged until 2100 hours that evening. According to General Weidling’s orders issued to all sectors, the defence would cease everywhere at 2300 hours.
All the rest, including the choice of routes, was left to the individual sectors. No rear guard was anticipated. SS-General Ziegler said that he would rejoin the Nordland for the breakout. In leaving the Chancellery, I saw no disorder in the rooms or corridors.
The commanders had carte blanche for the careful with-drawal of their troops from 2300 hours onwards, the little posts remaining behind until midnight would mask the total evacuation of our positions from the enemy. At midnight, Regiments Norge and Danmark left Leipziger Strasse, heading north via Charlottenstrasse and Friedrichstrasse. The U-Bahn tunnel could only be used under the most disciplined conditions and with intervals between groups. It was nevertheless necessary to leave it at Friedrichstrasse S-Bahn Station, for the tunnel was blocked by a solid grille preventing passage under the Spree.
In fact this ‘grille’ was a waterproof steel bulkhead, normally closed at night for security reasons, and had a guard of two transport-authority watchmen, who refused to open it as to do so would be against regulations!
We took a pause to regroup and decide north of the Spree near the Grand Opera. I myself was in Albrechtstrasse attempting to explore the possibilities with some officers who knew the area well.
Having abandoned my command post a little after midnight and taken the convenient route with my staff and the accompanying French detachment, I sent my liaison officer, SS-Second Lieutenant Patzak to the Air Ministry to collect the men of the Nordland and the French still in that sector. According to a report by Captain Fenet, the latter were engaged in the vicinity of Prinz-Albrecht-Strasse. It is not known whether this officer reached there or whether he was killed on the way. Captain Fenet never received my orders.
Captain Fenet continued his account:
That Ukrainian hadn’t lied. All night and all morning of the 1st May the storm of the Red assaults beats against us with desperate violence, but we are determined to respond with defiance. The Red infantry has been reinforced and launches waves of attack simultaneously with the setting off of the tanks. We let the T-34s approach to fire at point blank range, while pinning down the infantry with our assault rifles. The latter try to advance again, but they don’t get far and soon they don’t get up again.
The Russian concentrate their tanks barely 300 metres away, and the infantry move round behind that steel barrier. We know the buildings they are using, from where the deluge of fire fails to crush us, and of which we easily have the advantage. We have to wait until they are quite close at the end of a rifle or Panzerfaust, so close that several missed shots could open up the way and cause the front to collapse. The fate of the battle depends on the outcome of every attack. The Reichs Chancellery is being fiercely defended. One moment of weakness, one inattention on our part, and we would have the catastrophe that threatens, always more precisely to the extent that it consumes our strength and our effectives go on in this battle of hell.
During a particularly violent attack, a T-34 succeeds in passing and is only knocked out 30 metres behind our first position. For several moments a terrible anxiety seizes us, as if an abyss has opened beneath our feet. But no, it cannot be said that a Red tank has succeeded in penetrating our lines with impunity. There is a second explosion and the intruder is immobilised.
The situation worsens during the afternoon. Our building, practically intact when we occupied it, has now fallen into ruins, and if the ground floor is still holding, long strips of parquet are hanging down to the street, a perfect target for the Red flame-throwers, who, taking advantage of the scarcity of out troops, infiltrate through the ruins. We try to get these awkward bits of wood to fall into the street, but without tools in the middle of tottering walls and under enemy fire, our men can only establish the uselessness of their efforts. After several fruitless attempts, the Reds succeed in setting fire to this hanging pyre. We haven’t got a drop of water. Georges, the signaller, a placid, smiling, young Norman with plump cheeks, does his best in his quality as a former Parisian fireman, but soon he has to report that we must abandon all hope. If all goes well, we should be able to remain another hour, not more!
The Main Security Office had been decided upon as our next centre of resistance, several dozen metres away. While waiting, we continue the battle with the flames over our heads, while Georges and several others try desperately to slow down the fire’s advance at the risk of being burnt alive. After alternatives of hope and anxiety, Georges, black as a charcoal burner, returns to report that there is not much time left; the ground floor will be engulfed in its turn and the hundreds of books ranged along the shelves will provide the flames magnificent nourishment. The ground floor fills with smoke and flames come from the ceiling. It is now impossible to reach Wilhemstrasse. Regretfully, we must leave. It is now 1800 hours.