With Our Backs to Berlin

met up with our supply section. I was completely exhausted.

PANZERGRENADIER

In front of me were trucks, tanks, guns, all fleeing to the west. I went on for a few more kilometres. There was a traffic jam when we came to a crossing over the railway.[18] I had had enough of marching and asked the commander of a tank if I could have a ride. I had hardly slept in the last few days and had travelled over a hundred kilometres. My eyes kept closing with fatigue and I was footsore. The commander of the tank, Second Lieutenant Lorenz, allowed me to climb aboard, and now the journey went faster.

Several hours later, after being held up by numerous traffic jams, Second Lieutenant Lorenz ordered the tank to stop. The crew had been in action for weeks with little sleep. We lay down somewhere in a hallway and slept well into the next day, 25 April.

It had been dark the previous night and we had seen very little of the city. When I came out into the open air I was astonished to see that we were in the middle of Berlin in a shopping street with several large buildings all round us. We were bombarded with questions from all sides by the inhabitants. Their electricity supply had failed, all sorts of rumours were circulating in the city and no one knew anything for certain. The place was like an ants’ nest.

The Russians had thrust past Berlin, and many people were trying to get out of the city, but I gave it no thought. I felt myself quite safe. I could see what weapons there were around and that there were sufficient supplies for months. That Berlin would fall within the next ten days, I would never have believed.

Second Lieutenant Lorenz asked me if I would stay with them as an escort infantryman, a panzergrenadier. The tank was a 38(t), a Czech model known as the Hetzer, which had made quite a good name for itself; it was small and manoeuverable, very fast, had a 75 mm gun and a machine gun. The crew consisted of four men: commander, gunner, driver and radio operator. There were also four panzergrenadiers attached with the task of defending the tank in close-quarter combat. Two of their panzergrenadiers had been killed in action. With my arrival we were a trio.

The tank was part of the Panzer Division ‘Schlesien’. Only a few tanks of this division were still in action. We first looked for our regimental headquarters, driving up and down through Berlin.

We went past a big warehouse and saw large packing cases being removed. Second Lieutenant Lorenz sent me in to scrounge something. I got a large box with bottles of wine, schnapps, liquors and sekt, something for everyone. I also found a copy of the Volkische Beobachter,[19] which had the headlines ‘The Bolshevik horde’s attack will founder on Berlin’s walls’, ‘The Fuhrer is with us’, and so on. The newspaper was only half the size of a normal newspaper sheet. Having found regimental headquarters, we were tasked with securing a street, but nothing happened. Then in the afternoon we had to secure another street, but again heard nothing from the Russians. I went off on the scrounge, as we had had nothing to eat all day. There were soldiers wandering around all over the place, but no kind of order. There were hardly any proper units left, just stragglers everywhere and no leadership. A soldier asked me for a cigarette. I had plenty, having been given 300. In exchange I asked him for something to eat and he gave me seven cans of pork, one for everyone with the tank. I went back and we opened the cans with our bayonets. Meanwhile the Russians had brought up their artillery and started firing, at first sparingly, into the city. I ate my meat sitting on the steps of a burnt-out building, the other two panzergrenadiers were leaning against the tank and the crew sitting inside. Suddenly there was a roaring in the air and I saw forty to fifty Stalin-Organ rockets coming toward us. These rockets had a diameter of 10.5cm, as I later discovered, and left a fire trail behind them. I vanished into the building like lightning at the same moment as the rockets crashed down around us. Stones, dirt and dust clattered down around me. When the dust cleared, I saw where the rockets had been aimed: the tank was buried under about two metres of rubble with just the top showing. The ruined buildings had collapsed and fallen into the street, burying the two panzergrenadiers alive. The entry hatch had been left open, but no one inside had been badly hurt. They had bruises and scratches, and everything inside was covered in thick dust. Fortunately the engine was still intact and the driver was able to drive out of the rubble. I too was thickly covered in dust and had some minor scratches. My pork was now inedible, of course.

Next day, the 26th, we had a day off, as the tank urgently needed overhauling and cleaning. We could stretch out on a lovely plot of land in western Berlin and relax while the mechanic saw to the tank. It was lovely spring weather with greenery everywhere and the fruit trees in blossom. We made ourselves comfortable on our nice plot of land and could sleep undisturbed and wash ourselves properly in peace. However, next day we would have to go back into action.

Meanwhile the Russians had completed their ring around Berlin and we no longer had any communication with the west. From now on the Russians fired on the city with all calibres of artillery, while aircraft dropped their bomb loads on us. One risked one’s life going out on the street. Everywhere buildings and vehicles were burning and dead soldiers lying around. The water supply had collapsed and the population had to queue for hours at the few pumps as the shells fell, killing women and children.

Next day, the 28th, we went to the Tiergarten, where the regimental headquarters were located. Our tank parked close to the Victory Column (Siegessaule), where all hell was let loose. The Russians had worked out that our heavy artillery must have moved into the area, for they had fired a few times, and now were bombarding the area with artillery, mortars and bombs. As the firing intensified, I ran across to the Victory Column, under which there was a cellar, where I felt relatively safe. The Russians were already at the Brandenburg Gate, which I could see from there. There were four 37mm anti-aircraft guns near the Victory Column, but no longer firing, and Russian bombers were flying over at 200 to 300 metres in close formation without being fired at.

The firing continued to intensify and we could not afford to stay any longer. We drove off westwards along the East-West Axis. I preferred to run alongside the tank rather than sit aboard, as there was no cover on top. But as the tank could be seen by the aircraft, Second Lieutenant Lorenz drove ahead and waited for me. Suddenly a squadron of nine twin-engined bombers flew right over us and dropped their bombs in our immediate vicinity, so I took cover in a shellhole.

That night we were able to sleep again, with everyone taking turns at one hour of sentry duty. We moved into private accommodation in Mommsenstrasse, which was mainly undamaged. The inhabitants pestered us with questions, and when we said that we were looking for accommodation for the night, they mustered round us. However, we did not get much sleep, as during the night we received orders to go back into action. We were sent to Wilmersdorf, where we had to secure Barstrasse, where it led off Mecklenburgische Strasse. Our tanks stood at a crossroads and covered toward Mecklenburgische Strasse. Behind us were some shops, a small lake with a bridge going over it, and beyond it a cemetery and a crematorium. The Russians were already occupying the other end of the street.

Suddenly a T-34 appeared. Our gunner had spotted it and it burst into flames with the first shot. Meanwhile the Russian infantry could be seen in the buildings, so we had to withdraw over the bridge to the cemetery.

On 30 April we changed position again to the Margarinehaus on the Hohenzollerndam, where there was also a Mark IV tank from our regiment. In the Margarinehaus were thousands of civilians who had lost everything in the last few days, mainly women and children. There were no supplies and the children were crying for bread. Unholy chaos reigned. There were also many soldiers here, and the Russians were only 100 metres away.

On the afternoon of the 30th we moved back to Fehrbelliner Platz, where there were some large administrative buildings. Most of the city was now in Russian hands and we were being pushed in closer together. The Russian artillery fire was steadily increasing and the city lay under constant bombardment. For days we had not had any sleep and there was no longer any warm food to be had. We would have to see how we could survive. Nevertheless, we did not go hungry, for the civilians, with whom we were always in contact, kept giving us snacks. However, these were the worst days in my experience, for in the front line one knew where Ivan was, but here we had always to be ready for surprises. Often we would be in a building and a little later the Russians would come and bring the windows and cellar exits under fire.

For instance, at one crossroads a soldier was killed by a shot in the head and lay there dead just a few