The story of the German capture of the bridge at Novgorod Severskiy in
late August of 1941.
The 3rd Panzer Division had been moving down the road from Starodub to
the south for the past five hours. Its commander, Lieutenant-General
Model, was in his jeep at the head of his headquarters group, which
included an armoured scout-car, the radio-van, motor-cycle orderlies,
and several jeeps for his staff. The infantrymen cursed whenever the
column tore past them, making the dust rise in even thicker clouds.
Model, leading in his jeep, pointed to an old windmill on the left of
the road. The jeep swung over a little bridge across a stream and
drove into a field of stubble. Maps were brought out; a headquarters
staff conference was held on the bare ground. The radio-van pushed up
its tall aerials. Motor-cycle orderlies roared off and returned.
Model's driver went down to the stream with two field-buckets to get
some water for washing. Model polished his monocle. Bright and
sparkling, it was back in his eye when Lieutenant-Colonel von
Lewinski, CO of 6th Panzer Regiment, came to report.
A Russian map, scale 1:50,000, was spread out on a case of
hand-grenades.
"Where is this windmill?"
"Here, sir." Model's pencil-point ran from the hill with the windmill
right across on to the adjoining sheet which the orderly officer was
holding. The pencil line ended by the little town of Novgorod
Severskiy.
"How much farther?"
The Intelligence officer already had his dividers on the map.
"Twenty-two miles, Herr General."
The radio-operator brought a signal from the advanced detachment.
"Stubborn resistance at Novgorod. Strong enemy bridgehead on the
western bank of the Desna to protect the two big bridges."
"The Russians want to hold the Desna line." Model nodded.
Certainly they wanted to. And for a good reason. The Desna valley was
an excellent natural obstacle, 600-1000 yards wide.
Enormous bridges were needed for crossing the river and its swampy
banks. The big road-bridge at Novgorod Severskiy was nearly 800 yards
long, and the smaller pedestrian bridge was not much shorter. Both
were wooden bridges, and neither of them, according to the division's
aerial reconnaissance squadron, had been blown up so far. But they
were being defended by strong forces.
"We must get one of those bridges intact, Lewinski," Model said to the
Panzer Regiment commander. "Otherwise it'll take us days, or even
weeks, to get across this damned river." Lewinski nodded. "We'll do
what we can, Herr General." He saluted and left.
"Let's go," Model said to his staff. As the main route of advance was
congested with traffic the divisional staff drove along deep sandy
forest tracks. Through thick woods their vehicles scrambled thirty
miles deep into enemy territory. They might find themselves under fire
at any moment. But if one were to consider that possibility one would
never make any progress at all.
From ahead came the noise of battle. The armoured spearheads had made
contact with the Russians. Motor-cycle troops were exchanging fire
with Russian machine-guns. The artillery was moving into position with
one heavy battery. Through his field-glasses Model could see the
towers of the beautiful churches and monasteries of Novgorod Severskiy
on the high ground on the western bank of the river. Beyond those
heights was the Desna valley with its two bridges.
Russian artillery opened fire from the town. Well-aimed fire from
15.2-cm. batteries. The artillery was the favourite arm of the
of war," Stalin was to say in a future Order of the Day. The plop of
mortar batteries now mingled with the general noise. A moment later
the first mortar-bombs were crashing all around. Model was injured in
But a shell got Colonel Ries, the commander of 75th Artillery
Regiment. He died on the way to the dressing-station.
Low-level attack by Russian aircraft. "Anti-aircraft guns into
action!"
The enemy's artillery was now finding its range. Time to change
position.
The 6th Panzer Regiment and the motor-cycle battalion launched their
attack that very evening at dusk. But the tanks were held up by wide
anti-tank ditches with tree-trunks rammed in. The infantry regiment
which was to have attacked the Russians from the north-west at the
same moment had got stuck somewhere on the sandy roads.
Everything stop! The attack was postponed until the following morning.
At 0500 everything flared up again. The artillery used its heavy guns
to flatten the anti-tank obstacles. Engineers blasted lanes through
them. Forward! The Russians were fighting furiously and relentlessly
in some places, but in others their resistance was half-hearted and
thirty-five and forty-five, largely without previous military service
and with no more than a few days' training now. Naturally they did not
behind them. German tanks, self-propelled guns, and motorcycle
infantry drove into the soft spots.
At 0700 hours First Lieutenant Vopel, with a handful of tanks from his
2nd Troop and with armoured infantry-carriers of 1st Company, 394th
Rifle Regiment, took up a position north of Novgorod Severskiy. His
task was to give support to an engineers assault detachment under
800-yard-long wooden bridge. First Lieutenant Buchterkirch of 6th
Panzer Regiment, who was Model's specialist in operations against
bridges, had joined the small combat group with his tanks. Towards
0800 a huge detonation and cloud farther south indicated that the
Russians had blown up the smaller bridge.
Everything now depended on Storck and Buchterkirch's operation.
Storck and his men in the armoured infantry-carriers took no notice
whatever of what was happening to the right or left of them. They shot
their way through Russian columns. They raced across tracks knee-deep
in sand. Under cover of the thick dust-clouds they infiltrated among
retreating Russian columns of vehicles. They drove through the
northern part of the town. They raced down into the river valley to
the huge bridge.
"It's still there!" Buchterkirch called out. Driver, radio-operator,
and gunner all beamed. "Anti-tank gun by the bridge!
Straight at it!" the lieutenant commanded. The Russians fled. Second
Lieutenant Storck and his men leaped from their armoured carriers.
They raced up on to the bridge. They overcame the Russian guard.
There, along the railings, ran the wires of the demolition charges.
They tore them out. Over there were the charges themselves. They
pushed them into the water. Drums of petrol were dangling from the
rafters on both sides. They slashed the ropes. With a splash the drums
Sergeant Heyeres and Sergeant Strucken. Corporal Fuhn and
Lance-corporal Beyle were dragging the machine-gun. Now and again they
ducked, first on one side then on the other, behind the big
water-containers and sand-bins.
Suddenly Storck pulled himself up. The sergeant did not even have to
middle of the bridge lay a heavy Soviet aerial bomb, primed with a
time-fuse. Calmly Storck unscrewed the detonator. It was a race
against death. Would he make it? He made it. The five of them combined
to heave the now harmless bomb out of the way.
They ran on. Only now did they realize what 800 yards meant. There did
not seem to be an end to the bridge. At last they reached the far side
and fired the prearranged flare signal for the armoured spearhead.
Bridge clear.
Buchterkirch in his tank had meanwhile driven cautiously down the bank
and moved under the bridge. Vopel with the rest of the tanks provided
cover from the top of the bank.
That was just as well. For the moment the Russians realized that the
Germans were in possession of the bridge they sent in demolition
explosive charges, and Molotov cocktails. They ran under the bridge
and climbed into the beams.
Coolly Buchterkirch opened up at them with his machine-gun from the
other side. Several drums of petrol exploded. But wherever the flames
threatened to spread to the bridge squads of engineers were on the
spot instantly, putting them out. Furiously, Soviet artillery tried to
crawled under the planking of the bridge and removed a set of
would have been enough to touch them off.
Half an hour later tanks, motor-cycle units, and self-propelled guns
were moving across the bridge. The much-feared Desna position, the
gateway to the Ukraine, had been blasted open. A handful of men and a
few resolute officers had decided the first act of the campaign
against the Ukraine. Russia's grain areas lay wide open ahead of
Guderian's tanks. Under a brilliant sunny late-summer sky they rolled
southward.
some plaster on the back of his injured left hand when General Model's
armoured command-vehicle came over the bridge.
The Second Lieutenant made his report. Model was delighted. "This
Russian gunners again started shelling the bridge. But their
gun-laying was bad, and the shells fell in the water. The General
drove down the bank. Tanks of 1st Battalion, 6th Panzer Regiment,
followed by 2nd Company, 394th Rifle Regiment, were moving into the
mortars and the rattle of machine-guns, interspersed by the sharp bark
of the 5-cm. tank cannon of Lieutenant Vopel's 2nd Company. The
Russians rallied what forces they could and, supported by tanks and
artillery, threw them against the still small German bridgehead. They
tried to eliminate it and recapture the bridge of Novgorod
But Model knew what the bridge meant. He did not need Guderian's
reminder over the telephone: "Hold it at all costs!" The bridge was
their chance of getting rapidly behind Budennyy's Army Group
South-west by striking from the north. If Kleist's Panzer Group,
operating farther south, under Rundstedt's Army Group South, pushed
across the lower Dnieper and wheeled north, a most enormous pocket
would be formed, one beyond the wildest dreams of any strategist.
....Hitler Moves East by Paul Carell
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