By the end of March our reconnaissance aircraft had already confirmed that the Russians were reinforcing their troops and bringing forward more materiel. By the beginning of April we could hear this activity for ourselves. We could constantly hear tanks, trucks and singing. The Russians must have concentrated vast numbers of troops, and it was obvious that they were about to make a big strike toward Berlin.
We were getting ever more casualties, were not being relieved for weeks on end, and were exhausted. The Russian fire got stronger every day, while our own artillery was firing ever more sparingly, which meant that they were short of ammunition. Consequently the Russians were able to make their preparations for attack undisturbed.
The first attack came on 14 April. At 5 a.m. we heard the Russian mortars firing and seconds later the bombs fell on us. There was a howling and a banging, splinters whirled though the air, wounded screamed, and in between came the ratch-boom of anti-tank guns, the howling of anti-aircraft guns and hammering of machine guns. It was as if all hell had been let loose. After a few seconds we could not see five metres with the smoke and swathes of powder blowing in our faces. I sat in my dugout with my face pressed to the wall, waiting for the firing to stop. It only lasted ten minutes, but what had happened to our trenches in this time was beyond description. You could only wonder that you were still alive. What had been a properly constructed trench system was now a shallow scoop in the ground. The shells had completely shattered the trenches.
But then came the second instalment. The enemy rifle and machine gun fire started up and increased in volume. Pressed close to the ground, we waited for the enemy. That he would be coming now was certain. Suddenly the infantry fire eased up and a brown mass welled out of the Russian trenches. At the same time our own fire opened up, but even as many Russians fell, more came out of their trenches. Soon the first of them reached the trenches to our right with their cries of ‘Urrah!’ and broke into the communication trench. They then began rolling up our trenches. About 50 of them burst into the communication trench and more we coming all the time. We had to move ourselves. However, the way to the company command post was cut off, so we first went left and then back by another communication trench. But this trench was almost completely destroyed, offering us hardly any cover when the Russians opened fire on us, and my number two, Josef Wieser, was killed.
There was still a reserve section at the company command post, which now offered resistance to the Russians and checked their advance, enabling us to get away. But the reserve section was unable to hold the Russians and the company command post was lost. We occupied Solikante village, gradually amounting to about 40 men, supported by a machine gun section. Completely out of breath, I took up my position in a roadside ditch. Staff Sergeant Buchal lay in the ditch opposite. He called across: ‘Tillery, have you got a cigarette?’
However, I only had tobacco and paper, so I slung my tobacco pouch across to him, but he too was out of breath and simply not ready to roll a cigarette, so I carefully rolled one for him and threw it across.
Meanwhile the Russians were busy sacking our company command post. We worked our way back toward it slowly and Second Lieutenant Reiffenscheidt gave the orders for a counterattack. I was wondering how we could throw back the ten times more numerous Russians. Would they mow every last one of us down? But orders are orders. We reached the communication trench exit about 200 metres from the command post and could see the Russians moving about. Then we charged. On the command, we ran forward loudly shouting ‘Hurrah!’ Once we got going, there was no stopping us. We charged full of enthusiasm, firing as we went, and it did not matter when my machine gun jammed. I tugged at the cocking handle, but to no avail. What could I do? Lie down and clear the jam? No, I could not do that either. So I charged on, not firing, but shouting all the louder. I was a bit to the left. Some of us went round the farm on the right, some straight into the farmyard and several, including myself, round to the left. The Russians sought safety in flight.
We thought that they had all left the farm. I turned and ran toward a liquid manure cart that stood in the corner of the garden. Suddenly there was a revolting smell from the manure cart as several bullets went through it right next to me. Twelve Russians were standing not more than ten metres from me in an extension to the communication trench, where previously a mortar had stood. One of them pointed at me and shouted something. At that same moment some comrades came out of the farm and threw hand grenades. Instinctively I pulled the trigger and the machine gun fired, all 50 rounds going off without jamming, as I aimed at the centre of the group. Some fled, but six lay there and two others only made it a short distance. I put in a fresh belt, but the gun refused to fire again.
Meanwhile my comrades had charged round the farm and we thrust forward again along the communication trench. The Russians promptly sought out their old positions and we reoccupied ours. The breach had been cleared. The Russians had suffered heavy casualties. We counted at least eighty dead. Apart from equipment, we captured one heavy, two light and several sub-machine guns. I took one of the latter. We too had suffered casualties; several dead, including Sepp Wieser, and several wounded. Second Lieutenant Gold, who had only just received his commission a few hours before, had been wounded in the charge. He had gone on ahead alone and screamed terribly when he was hit in the lower abdomen.
The Russians remained quiet for the rest of the day. We were relieved during the night. Shortly beforehand Sergeant Behrensen was killed by a shot to the head. The company was now only 48 strong, even though we had received several replacements.
The unit that replaced us was well equipped, combat experienced and rested. In contrast we had lost some of our weapons, were fought out, exhausted and filthy. In any case the relief was absolutely necessary and it was a stroke of luck to be relieved the day before the Russians’ main offensive began.
The new troops arrived at the front line early on the morning of 15 April. We gave them a quick briefing and then marched back, happy to be out of that dangerous corner and not envying our reliefs their task, but we did not know that the Russians would be rolling over them 24 hours later. So we came to the rear positions that ran about three kilometres behind the front line.
Behind us lay the village of Altfriedland, in which there were still many civilians, most of them farmers. After several strenuous and wearying weeks, we were hoping to be able to have a proper break. First we saw to our weapons, then we could take care of ourselves. Once we had had a good wash we felt as fresh as new.
We were occupying a position that ran along in front of a manor farm and so did not have to crouch down in the trenches all the time, but lived in the buildings and took to the trenches only in an alert. At last we had time to write home. Many of the comrades’ homes were in areas already occupied by the Russians or Americans, and news was reaching us only very sparingly at the front. I had read in the Armed Services Report that there was some heavy fighting in front of Bremen, but hoped that my letters would get through to my parents. Few of my parents’ letters had reached me recently, and a lot of mail was not reaching its destination because of the many air attacks.
During the afternoon we worked on our position and at night we could sleep for the first time in weeks. However, one man from each platoon had to stand guard for half an hour at a time. The duties were given out and I got from 0330 to 0400 hours. I went to bed early in the straw that we had put down in the cellar and slept as if on a feather bed until it was time for my guard duty. This was the last time that I would have a whole night’s sleep for weeks.
THE RUSSIAN OFFENSIVE BEGINS
I got up at 0330 hours, still half asleep, and took post, but did not have to be as alert as in the front line. It was very misty. I made the rounds of our quarters, and at ten to four woke up my relief and was happy that I could now sleep into the morning.
As I was going back down into the cellar, I heard the well-known sound; ‘Flup, flup’ coming from Ivan. He was firing his mortars. I took this to be the morning concert and carried on down. The first Russian salvos fell on the front line, but the hits started coming closer until they started landing in our vicinity. But there was more to it than that, more than the usual morning concert. Our building received several direct hits. Ivan was laying a violent bombardment down on us. Hit after hit followed the discharges and the din that came from their anti-aircraft and anti-tank guns and heavy artillery too could be heard.[12] Then the runner came from the company command post: ‘Alert! Take post immediately!’
I reached the trenches, jumping from shellhole to shellhole under the heaviest fire. The earth was being ploughed up systematically, one crater overlapping the next. The trenches were already suffering and beginning to
