Gefreiter Walter Thomaschek
Panzeraufklärungsabteilung _"Großdeutschland"
(Armoured Reconaissance Battalion "Grossdeutschland")

Gefreiter Walter Thomaschek

In 1939, at the age of 14, I went to Wilhelmshaven to start an apprenticeship as a locksmith. The sight of the harbour with all the warships leaving and coming was a completely new and most impressive exerience for someone from the countryside. I also remember the many sea planes operating in the harbour. In the same year I witnessed the arrival of the battle cruiser "Deutschland". The name had gotten erased from the hull for security reasons but soon we found out about the identity of the ship. Rumours said that it would soon operate in the Atlantic against the Royal Navy. Finally, on 24 August 1939 I saw the "Deutschland" leaving.  Also in Wilhemshaven I witnessed the first bombing raids by the RAF.

During my holiday in 1942 I returned home. I didn´t feel like going back to Germany and started to work for the steel plant Vitkowitz. The fact that I worked there has prevented me from severe punishment after the authorities found out that I hadn´t returned to Germany. They found me and I got drafted into the Wehrmacht. With a heavy heart I did pack my personal belongings and said farewell to my parents.

Training in Cottbus

In Ratibor the new arrivals were gathered and distributed. I got sent to a "Wehrertüchtigungslager" which provided pre-military training to 16 and 17 year olds, preparing them for the military. They sent me to a camp in the village Seeboden close to Milchstadt in Austria. The Milchstätter lake was close to the camp. We wore Hitler Youth uniforms and our instructors were soldiers of the Waffen SS. Mainly we learned to march, parade and to sing the songs of the military. Every morning and evening the flag was raised. Frequent alarms and marches by night were also part of the training. Despite the long ongoing war, food was excellent. I stayed in this camp for approximately 8 weeks.

To my surprise I was then sent to an elite unit which at this point in time was already known as "die Feuerwehr des Ostens" - "the Fire Brigade of the East."   It was the Panzerregiment Grossdeutschland, of the glorious Panzergrenadier Divison "Grossdeutschland".

In February 1943 I went to Cottbus, the location of the HQ of the GD division. There, in the Herman-Löns-Kaserne, in the "Panzertruppen Ersatz- und Ausbildungs Abteilung GD" (Tank Troop Replacement and Training Battalion) , commanded by Major Senfft zu Pilsach, I received 16 weeks of basic military training and learned to handle weapons and explosives. Our drill instructor was Oberleutnant Schneider, wearing the Deutsches Kreuz in Gold (German Cross in Gold). A friend from the Eifel region had a guitar and in the evening we were singing beautiful and nostalgic songs and I remember the sentimental mood. Some other friends I remember are Kurt Salzmann (died in 1945) and Heinz Mücke from Hindenburg (died 6 November 1944). There were warning signs all over the place to make people aware of coal theft and to remind them to save electricity. Back then the power plants used coal to create electricity.

Then followed company-level training in the Sachsendorf Kaserne, home of the III. Panzer Grenadier Ersatz und Ausbildungs Batallion GD, led by Hauptmann Trinks.  We were trained in the use of heavy weapons and combined arms tactics for armor and artillery. Training to use magnetic hollow-charge anti tank mines we encountered some difficulties. The two plus-poles had to be on top when attaching the mine to the tank. Some of us confused sides over and over again, which caused the the mines to fall off the tank. We were practising on Russian T34s. One of the instructors advised me to participate in as many special training courses as I could, in order to delay my departure to the front as long as possible, and I followed his advice.

I participated in courses for the Krad (motorcycle), operating radio equipment, and tank-busting. For every new weapon I was trained on I received a written acknowledgement in my pay-book. Finally I completed my training with the rank of "Schütze". With great pompousity we swore our oath in the presence of the whole Regiment. Everybody went into the officers' casino, decorated with flags. High ranking officers awaited us in their parade uniforms. With my right hand raised I swore my loyalty to the German Reich and the Führer. Our officers told us many times that "you are the future of Germany. It is up to you to determine the future of the German Reich".

First missions in Berlin

Serving with the Panzer Grenadier Ersatz Brigade GD, I was sent on my first military mission. My identification tag read "208- 1. Aufkl. Schwadron Pz. Tr. Ers. Brig. (m) GD".  (Serial number 208, 1st Company, Reconaissance Squadron, Armoured Troops Replacement Brigade (Motorized) "Grossdeutschland")   It was our task to patrol around the foreign worker camps in the outskirts of Berlin. They were starting to increasingly threaten the citizens of the capital of the Reich. At this time Berlin was starting to become a frequent target for bombing raids. On the day after the bombing raid we were sent on patrols. Our main tasks were resque missions, to provide help with the clearance activities and disposing of rubble and damage as well as to prevent riots and looting. The code-name for these missions was "Ikarus". We were moving around on trucks and motorcycles armed with a MG 34. The HQ was in Berlin Spandau. Quite regularly we drove along the noble "Unter den Linden" boulevard. Once we stopped in front of a huge restaurand called "Haus Vaterland". We went inside and the place was packed with French workers. They were served tremendous amounts of food. We got furious because our own rations were limited and we clearly felt their arrogance and mockery. Despite our uniforms and weapons they didn´t care when we started controlling them and after we were finished they asked us to leave quickly.

The final test (Dress Rehearsal)

Soon thereafter we were about to be sent to the front. The final test was taking place on the training grounds at Wildflecken. In a huge wooded area there was a training ground for tanks. There we trained with live ammunition and also with Panzerfausts. Many Panzerfaust warheads hit the earth and did not explode. Then it was our task to locate the duds and label the place so that they could later get blown up. These were dangerous missions. A young fellow named Jungblut from the Mosel region found one of the deadly warheads and when trying to place the sign saying "Achtung Blindgänger" (Blindgänger = dud) in the ground he used the warhead in the absence of a hammer. Our company commander almost freaked out but luckily the warhead didn´t explode. From then on Jungblut then was regularly teased with comments like "Jungblut, let´s go and de-arm some warheads". I wonder about his whereabouts.

At Wildflecken the newly developed Do-Werfer (Do launcher) was presented to us.  It was a German version of the Russian Katyusha. We stepped back and they fired the launcher. With an earshattering howl and whistling the grenades went into the sky almost vertically, flipped over and simultaneously hit a large area. A breathtaking sight! Before I left for the front I spent a 14 day leave at home. These were the last calm days of the war.

(Matthias: One source mentions the "30-cm Nebelwerfer 42" getting introduced in July 43. This might be what got presented at Wildflecken. Wildflecken is still a Bundeswehr training ground. "Do" refers to General Dornberger who supervised the early development of this weapon.)

A Strange Encounter

In the winter of 1943-44 I was sent to the East Front in the south of the Ukraine. We were kept as reinforcements for our Regiment wich had had many casulaties and was weakened. At first we travelled by train which also transported tanks and other technical equipment. In Hungary, on the Budapest trainyard our train was waiting when another train coming from the opposite direction passed us by. Curiously I watched the other train, loaded with soldiers and tanks like ours. I thought "these poor chaps must come back from the front, what might it be like there?" when all of a sudden I discovered a familiar face. A man standing in front of a Pz III, watching me despisingly. I asked him "Arent you Herr Tyc?"

"Yes," he said, "and you are Tomasek, aren´t you?"  What a coincidence! He was also from Ludgerstal and I had seen him earlier. "Where are you going?" he asked.

"To the front, to the south".

He waved his hand acknowledging and said "That´s where I have been". Exactly in this moment his train started to move again and all I could do was to wave goodbye. When I met him after the war we both remembered this encounter.

The next stop was in a suburb of Budapest. Here I witnessed an air attack. A German minority was living in the suburb but they were somewhat hard to understand due to their strong accent from the Schwaben (Matthias: In Southern Germany) region. Unfortunately I had guard duties and couldn´t drink from the wine they offered. Other soldiers quickly became friends with the locals and started to drink the strong wine with them. The locals mixed it with mineral water but our guys drank it pure. The result didn´t really surprise me. When we were supposed to move on the next morning no one showed up. As I was on duty I had to take a vehicle and together with some others I went to look for the lost soldiers. We searched the whole city and one after the other found the drunken men. They were so drunk that they could hardly walk and we grabbed them by the arms and feet and threw them on the truck. This lasted for the whole night.

Arriving at our destination we disembarked from the train and marched onwards at hight speed, marching by day and night. Under orders one is able to go beyond what seems to be possible for a human being. We were marching the whole night and slept while walking. How is that possible? Well, we marched in collumn formation and everybody grabbed the belt of the person in front. Then close you eyes and keep moving your feet. So we finally made it to our detachment at the front.

At the front with the Panzer Regiment My frontline unit was the 2. Panzer Aufklärungs Abteilung (2nd Company, Armoured Reconaissance Battalion)  and our shoulder straps had the golden-yellow piping and "GD" cyphers. I would be wearing these throughout of the war.

Everybody was hoping to get sent to Berlin to serve in the Wachregiment (Matthias: Watch, or Guard Regiment) but they told us that only soldiers decorated in the fight would get this privilege. Later some soldiers who had served in Berlin arrived at the front and told us about their splendid life in Berlin. Shining uniforms, holidays, girls, dancing. To not totally fall prey to this lifestlye the were getting sent to the front for a period of time. We envied them and many of us tried to get the EK (Iron Cross) through acts of bravery on the battlefield. Many had to learn the rule that heroes die earlier. I got assigned to the Second Battalion, Panzer Regiment GD as a reinforcment.

I was determined to see the russian "Ivan" with my own eyes and a Stabsgefreiter took me to the frontline and showed me a recently killed Russian. He had a youthful face and was lying on his back. Straight underneath the rim of his helmet he had gotten shot through the skull and the whole back of his head was split apart, with parts of the brain leaking out. The Stabsgefreiter looked at me sadly and told me "Look, this chap was as curious as you are". It was a shocking sight. All of a sudden I felt how close I was to the real war and the danger of getting killed. This feeling never left me for years, even after the war.

I then had the chance to view the area through a Scherenrohr (scissors periscope). People warned me to move the periscope slowly and take care that the reflections of the sun on the the lens didn´t give away our positions to the enemy. Cautiously I had a look around and saw enemy soldiers only 400m away from us. It seemed both parties had agreed upon a ceasefire. I clearly spotted some Ivans, trying to get rid of lice.

I got assigned to a company and served as loader in a PzKpfw IV. The Pz IV with a weight of 25 tons and the long 7.5 cm gun was equal to the best Soviet tanks. Understandably I was very nervous during my first missions due to my lack of experience. During one of the first encounters with the enemy I loaded the gun with HE (high explosive) instead of the AP (armour piercing) the tank commander had requested. He yelled at me many times and gave me many furious lectures. But in the heat of combat everybody must be clearly aware what to do or he will be a risk for the whole crew.

My favourite commander had the rank of Feldbwebel and his name was Horst Diestler. I liked him because he was one of the very few who had an understanding for us newcomers. He had been an instructor and tried to teach us the tricks and dangers of combat. I never felt comfortable inside the tank. The noise was almost unbearable although we used earplugs or were wearing headphones. Trapped inside this tin-can I quickly lost my sense of orientation and often didn´t know in which direction we were heading. Our commander received orders via the radio but didn´t give us detailed instructions or information about our whereabouts. In case of capture by the Russians we shouldn´t be able to reveal any useful information to the enemy. The commander was able to turn on the internal loudspeakers for important radio messages so that the crew could hear them. Only the commander and the driver were able to see the outside world through small slits covered with bullet-proof glass. The rest of the crew was not able to see anything. It was a terrible feeling to see nothing during a fight. One could hear the bullets ricocheting off the arour and everybody was praying that no AT shell would hit us. Above all we feared the excellent Russian 7.62-cm AT guns. Due to their immense muzzle velocity the explosion of the shell became audible before the sound of the shot getting fired. Therefore this gun was called "Ratsch-Bumm" (Crash-Boom).

During combat it was common to drink Schnaps (Matthias: hard liquour) to cheer you up. The commander drank first. Quite often he ordered the driver to drive slowly or stop. Then he took some sips from the bottle. He then passed the bottle around and everybody drank. That made us relax, more courageous and improved the morale. Inside the tank was a terrible mess. Dirt got carried inside on our boots. The smell of our unwashed bodies was everywhere. Quite often we had to wait in the tank for hours be it extremely hot or terribly cold. The body hurt from sitting for endless hours in the cramped space. Officially we weren´t allowed to sleep. Usually we agreed upon one crew member staying awake and be on guard while the others slept but sometimes it happened that the whole crew fell asleep. In case we couldn´leave the tank we hat to urinate and shit through the bottom hatch. When this was impossible the commander told us to "Shit into your pants".

Retreat and the Russian winter

Now I experienced the fierceness of our defensive battles throughout which the Division was pushed back to the Dnjepr and had many casualties. Lacking reinforcements and under pressure from the numerical superior enemy we crossed the Dnjepr after the Russian offensive in the direction of Krivoy Rog started on October 15, 1943. The conditions were terrible. Temperatures went below minus 30°C and with the ground being frozen to the depth of 1m it was impossible to dig in. There was no chance to warm-up anywhere or dry our clothes. Frostbite was common among the men. Often we had to treat the engines with blow-torches before we were able to start it. Due to the lack of vegetation and cover our vehicle could be seen from many miles away.

Without cover were were always threatened by Russian sharpshooters even behind our lines. One comrade needed to take a leak and stepped aside. He got immediately hit and fell to the ground. He was hit in the abdomen and bled to death within a short period of time. The medics couldn´t help him. At this time we started to say "Vorwärts Kameraden, es geht zurück" (Matthias: Forward comrades, we are going back) while ironically reverting our helmets.

Quite often we had to change to another tank due to necessary repair work. I regularly found myself in new tanks, among different crews. One had to adpot to his new environment and different men all the time. Tanks which were damaged beyond repair were stripped of all useable parts and then brought into covered positions. The Russians were supposed to get fooled into believing the tank was still in serivce.

At the division some Russians (Matthias: "Hiwis" - Hilfswilliger, or "Volunteer Helpers" - these were Soviet troops who deserted and joined the Germans) were helping in the kitchen. They all had the name Ivan!  (Webmaster - the GD Division, like many formations in the east, employed a large number of Hiwis).

Mud Period

There were no paved roads in Russia at this point in time and the mud-period was a serious nuisance. Rain turned the terrain into a knee-deep swamp. Mud, mud, mud as far as the eye can see. Foxholes and small bunkers were filled with water, our boots got wet and uncomfortable. Fog became common and roads ceased to exist. The rivers flooded the surrounding countryside and the thaw period turned meadows and fields into a swamp. The slightest depression in the ground turned into a lake. We didn´t have a single dry pieth of clothing for quite some time and there was no chance to dry anything under these conditions. Our boots were encrusted with mud as well as our uniforms and coats. Food was delivered cold and in small quantities late at night when the intensity of the artillery fire died down. The tracks of the German tanks were much too narrow and often our vehicles got stuck in the mud. A second tank or a recovery tank was used to pull the tank out of the mud.

After the Battle

After the fighting had stopped or at the end of the day it was impossible to rest at once. We left the tank with blackened faces from the gun powder and everybody would have preferred just to sleep. Impossible. At first we had to take care of our equipment. Report how much ammo we had expended, refuel the tank with a manual pump, load ammo and hand back the empy cartridges which were collected and sent back to the factories. Furthermore we had to check the tank for damage on the tracks, the gun etc. This required our attention because these parts of the equipment were prone to damage. The individual links of the tracks needed to get stretched, lubricated and changed for different terrain types. The tank needed to get camouflaged to avoid spotting through enemy air recon. We also had to clean the gun barrel, which required the strength of the whole crew. Then we had to dig the tank in. It was incredibly hard work. Sometimes I fell asleep, the shovel still in my hands. After the tank we had to clean our rifles. Only after these were clean as well we could have some time for ourselves. Sometimes we didn´t have any time for this because new orders had arrived and we had to start moving again.

During alarms it was necessary to be on the battle station inside the tank as fast as possible. We had to be extremely fast. I constantly hurt myself on the edges inside the tank. Perment roll-calls and trainings kept us extremely busy. This way we shouldn´t have time to think about the war. We were meant to eat, dring, sleep and die, nothing else. We were completely exhausted and weakened by the lack of sleep. Personally I always considered the lack of the sleep to be the worst ordeal in comparion to hunger, thirst, cold and wetness. We were becoming machines and only worried about food and sleep. We were unshaven and dirty and during the night fleas, lice, bugs and rats made our lives even more miserable. During the summer the steppe was alive with mosquitos and we were using mosquito nets worn over our heads to protect us as good as possible. The encounter with the Ukranian steppe was quite an experience for everybody. The endless horizon in every direction, brownish vegetation and dust, dust .. - .. dust.

Partisans

Everywhere behind the front was partisan territory. Partisans were guilty of the most cruel war cimes. One had to be extremely careful and not stray away too far from the unit. Partisans did not take any prisoners and we despised their devious and cruel actions. Many times we found mutilated Germans, medics, drivers. They even did the same to the Red Cross nurses. They were attacked, raped and then killed. Once we got attacked by partisans. To fool us they were using German machine guns. Nevertheless we were able to locate them pretty soon because they were using tracer bullets in a 1:1 ratio while our own was 1:7. We encircled them and shot them to pieces.

One day a Leutnant from Hamburg appeared at our unit. He was sent to instruct us about mines. He told us what we were supposed to look for: different colours on the ground, things on the road. One good piece of advice was to dismount from the rear of the tank, into the track marks. The Russian landscapes were infested with mines and many men lost their limbs to them. Some weeks later the Leutnant reappeared. We just gathered when a huge explosion blew him up. He had left his vehicle, took three steps and stepped on a mine which blew him up. How absurd!

The incident at the Prut

In March 1944 I got assigned to the 2nd Squadron Panzer Aufklärungs-Abteilung GD for a short period of time. We received Sd Kfz 251, the Stuka zu Fuss (Stuka on foot) version (Matthias: the version with Wurfrahmen 40 ). Participating in recon parties, which at night went behind enemy lines to scout positions and force composition was extremely dangerous. Unmarried men were chosen for these tasks. I was lucky and never got harmed during these missions. At this time, after the battle at Kirovograd, we were driven out of the Ukraine. Under constant attack from the enemy we moved from Ivanovaka and Ananjew in the direction of the Romanian border. During the retreat we were constantly threatened to get encircled by the enemy. We permanently asked our radio operators "where is the front, where is the enemy, where can we go". The Luftwaffe supported us occasionally. Sometimes a Fw-189 recon plane led the way and by flying in circles indicated where we might be able to escape.

One day I saw how russian fighers chased a Fieseler Storch. It´s maneuverability helped him to escape time after time until the Russians gave up. We waited at our Panzerflak (vehicle mounted anti-aircraft MG-34 machine-gun, according to Miro) to see if they´d come closer but they were to far away for us to engage them and we didn´t want to reveal our positions. It happened that our Pioneers had already blown up bridges we needed to cross. Then we built barges and transported our equipment across the river.

On 31 March we reached Chisinau in Romania (Besserabia) and on the following day Cornesti where the next defensive battles took palce. During one of these fights our tank received several hits to the frontal lower hull and one to the tureet, taking out the mechanism to rotate it. We retreated and watched the damage. We had been lucky that the shell that hit the turret had been reflected away. The other hits had left deep scars in the tank´s armor. We broke out in a cold sweat when we realized how lucky we had been. We went on our way to reach the repair unit (Instandsetzung) and arrived at the River Prut where ferries crossed the river. The highest ranking officer, a General, prohibited us to cross the river.

He even ordered us to return to the fight. With our heavily damaged turret, which might have come apart from one of our own shots this would´ve surely meant suicide. Our commander told the General about it but he insisted. We were supposed to keep the enemy away by our appearance and buy time for the retreating units. It was clear that we were meant to be sacrificed. Our commander Horst waited until the General went away and ordered us to drive to the bank of the river. We boarded a ferry and commanded the pioneers to bring us the the opposite bank of the river, which they did. Looking back we saw the general on the other side, gesticulating wildly and then disappearing. Thank God he did not report the incident. Had he done this we would have had to face a military tribunal and certainly death.

With the Infantry

During the actions in Romania since April 1944 the Division was moving constantly. Russian attacks were followed by German counter-attacks in the area between Jassy and Targul Frumos, close to the Carpathian mountains. Due to a lack of intact tanks we were sometimes fighting with the infantry. That meant digging foxholes, assaults, defending against enemy attacks and being under fire constantly. The Russians flattened our positions with artillery barrages according to their plans. Hidden in our foxholes there was nothing we could do but wait for a miracle. Their mortars were as deadly as their guns. One could see the shells rising and then falling on our positions.

During an assault with the infantry we got under heavy MG fire. We leaped forward from cover to cover. Next to me I noticed Adam getting hit by an MG burst. He fell to the ground. We covered the enemy foxhole with hand grenades and furious machine gun fire. The enemy there had no chance to survive. Adam´s condition was a terrible sight. He had gotten hit 7 times and the last bullet had shattered his chin. He was bleeding heavily and when the stretcher bearers carried him away I was sure I would never see him again.

After some weeks we offered a pitiful sight. We were worn out and emaciated, our uniforms torn to pieces and dirty. Many men had been killed and it was our task to dig their graves. Usually a spot close to a street was chosen; that way we were hoping that they would not get disturbed later. At this point in time we didn´t yet know that the Russians were destroying and desecrating the graves of German soldiers.

The graves had to be 1.80 metres deep, which was then verified by an officer. Then the grave was filled and a wooden cross was put on top of it. The initials of the fallen were cut into the wood. His identity disk was divided into two pieces. One was left on the cross, the other was sent to Germany. When the burial was over we usually stayed for a short while, not talking to bid farewell. There was nothing else we could have done. They remained in foreign soil, far away from their homes.

At Jassy we were in for a nasty surprise when encountering the new Russian IS-2 tank and witnessing our shells not being able to penetrate their armor plates. Our Tigers from III Battalion, Panzer Regiment GD had to get dangerously close to the enemy tanks to be able to eliminate them.

Romanian soldiers fighting with us were in a totally desolate state. Their equipment was completely outdated and they weren´t really able to support us. We were all surpised that Romanian company commanders used to beat up their men once they weren´t able to accomplish the tasks assigned to them. Unthinkable in the German army.

I have great respect for the lads from the 3rd SS Panzergrenadier Division "Totenkopf" which were fighting with us at this time. They proved to be absolutely reliable in every dangerous situation. When talking to them they told me that they were aware that if captured by they Russians they would be lucky to receive a bullet to the head. Normally they´d face cruel and barbaric torture before that. In our case we said that when the Russians would catch us they´d send us to a quarry in Siberia.

Attacked from the air

In Bessaraba I was re-assigned to the Panzer Reconaissance Battalion where I served as a motorcycle rider. Once I transported an officer on my BMW R75. He was sitting in the sidecar. We were driving into the direction of Jassy and the road lead upon a mountain. All of of sudden we were attacked by single engine ground attack aircraft. I assume Ilyushin IL-2 Sturmovik. It got nasty when the bullets hit the ground around us. The officer was yelling at me in panic: "Stop, Stop!". Now immediate action was required, pulling the clutch, changing gear! We both jumped off the still moving motorcylce and hid in the ditch by the roadside. The moving motorcycle still received fire until it stopped 20m away. Motionlessly we waited until the aircraft had disappeared and returned to the BMW. When we attempted start it we found out that a part of the engine had gotten blown off by a hit and the trip was over.

A stolen cow and the tragic aftermath

In Romania I witnessed the following tragic incident. We were in positions 500 metres away from a farm. Our cook stole a cow from the stable at the farm. Some other soldiers covered him on. He prepared a giant feast to the pleasure of everyone. The Romanian farmer complained about it to the Romanian authorities. The German high command had to end this quickly and the cook was put on trial and accused of looting, found guilty and immediately shot. The tribunal even consisted of officers who had participated in the meal. We didn´t understand this. Some days later we had the chance for revenge. In a firefight with the Russians we shot some grenades at the farm whereafter the Russians targeted the area with an artillery barrage which destroyed the whole place.

After several months of intense combat our division was taken out of the frontline on 8 June 1944. We moved into an area 100 kilometres south of Jassy, in Moldavia. Through this resting period we received infantry training. We were chased around until we couldn´t stand on our feet anymore.

In June we also received the new divisional newspaper "Die Feuerwehr" (The Fire Brigade). There was a shortage of (toilet) paper and so the newspaper served it´s purpose even after reading it. During the refitting period I  went on leave. I had a 20 litre canister with freshly pressed sunflower oil with me which I had traded for military socks from a Romanian farmer. On the trip home from Vienna to Ostrau I met two Czechoslovakians. They obviously thought I was a worker and tried to make fun out of me, assuming I didn´t understand the langauge. After some time I had enough, took my gun, loaded it and asked them "So, what now?" They went pale and disappeared in a hurry. They even forgot to take their suitcases with them. The leave was over quickly and I returned to my unit. Due to the events in Berlin the situation was tense. After July 20, 1944, the attempt to kill Hitler, we had to use the Hitlergruss (Führer salute) when saluting. The order to do so came on July 24. When saluting we always said to ourselves "That´s the height to which the shit has piled up".   (Webmaster - the 24 July order also stated that the standard military hand salute was no longer to be used, in favour of the "Hitler" salute.)

At the Nothern Front

In the summer of 1944 we were suddenly sent to the Northern Front. Once again we were supposed to be the fire brigade. Again we were travelling with an armoured train and travelled through the Carpathian Mountains. The heavly loaded train was extremely slow. When someone felt the need to take a dump he just hopped off the train and was done before the last waggons had passed by. In our waggon someone had inscribed "It is forbidden to pick flowers during the ride".

During the following speedy advance we arrived at an airfield on August 18, 1944. Several Russian aircraft were burning there. We left our tanks in cover at the edge of the airfield and were ordered to turn off the radios. My commander sent me to the Zugführer (platoon commander)  to ask about the situation. I laid myself to rest in the shadow of a tree and fell asleep. All of sudden Russian Katyusha salvos impacted all around us. I protected my head with my arms and felt my left hand jerk. When I looked I discovere that a grenade fragment hat pierced my hand. The blood was flowing freely and the shells kept coming in. It seemed only a question of time until I would get killed. Panicking I jumped up and ran towards my tank. Finding some cover at the tank I calmed down. A friend helped me to treat the wound and it stopped bleeding. When the barrage was over I went to our field hospital. A medic bandaged my hand when a new order arrived. "Retreat"! I got inside the tank, other wounded soldiers were placed on top and we started. We received heavy fire from the flank and I heard the impacting of shots on the tank. I was thinking about the poor men outside the tank. At a field hospital I left the tank and received further medical treatment. Close to me was an Oberfeldwebel, wearing the Knight's Cross. He told me that this already was his 13th injury. I stayed at a Genesungskompanie (Convalescent Company) for a month and then returned to my unit.

At this time we got hold of a barrel of beer. It didn´t fit into the tank and was outside. We were furious when we discoverd that the barrel had gotten pierced by the artillery barrage and all the beer had leaked out.

Second Injury

In November 1944 I was wounded for the second time, once again from Katyusha fire. The shell fragments hit my hand and my knee. I was taken to the Luftwaffe field hospital Number 6 in the city of Memel. On November 28 the GD division got evacuated from the besieged Memel by ship. I was lucky and got evacuated aboard a Tante Ju (Auntie Ju), that´s what we called the 3-engine Junkers Ju-52. Before take-off the pilots warned us that there would be a rough flight in front of us due to the weather conditions. Were were so happy to leave Memel, we didn´t care. We were flying over the ocean for most of the time at a height of approximately 50m to avoid detection by Russian fighters. In the windows there were 4 drum-magazine fed machine guns. I got a seat at one the MG windows and scanned the sky above us. Fortunately we weren´t attacked and landed safely in Köngisberg. I stayed in a hospital located in a school building. One night we were informed that the Russians were approaching and stretcher-bearers took everyone to a train.

They took me as well, even though I could walk. We travelled to Rybnik in Oberschlesien. Around Christmas 1944 I was moved again, this time to a hospital in Hindenburg. Later I belonged to a security detachment which was formed to cover the move of the hospital from Hindenburg to Kolin in Czechoslovakia. Seven horse drawn carriages were loaded with sealed chests. It was very cold when we left. I had my motorcycle coat but it didn´t protect me much from the icy temperatures. Therefore we marched behind the carriage in hope to stay warmer while moving. My helmet I had lost in the meantime. In the area of Ratibor we crossed the Oder and our way lead us past my homeland. I was tempted to go home, but stayed sane enough not to do so.

Dresden and the Firestorm

I got commanded to Cottbus. On the trip I had one of my worst war-time experiences. The train stopped, we dismounted and found ourselves in a thick cloud of dust. On the horizon we saw the flames of a burning city. It was the city of Dresden. Never again will I be able to forget the image. Even the stones were burning there and we felt the heat from kilometers away. We had to keep moving on foot and reached the suburbs. Although it was daytime smoke and dust almost blocked out the sunlight. I took dust-protection glasses from a corpse and put them on. He wouldn´t need them anymore. Wherever we looked, dead bodies everywhere. Burned to coal in the cellars, in the streets, everywhere. It was horrible and words fail to describe my feelings. I only know that I´ll never forget it.

After reaching our headquarters in Cottbus we helped load a tank onto a train at the railway station. We were supposed to go to Schleswig-Holstein (Northern Germany) together with the equipment. Still at the railway station we were bombed on the 2nd of March. We found shelter inside the tank even if we wouldn´t have survived a direct hit in there. The railway station got hit as well as the barracks where I had once trained. Later we departed. During the period of permanent retreat I never made it back to the frontlines. Once during a march I saw the launch of one of the new Wunderwaffen (Wonder Weapons). It was during the night when all of a sudden we saw a flame rising towards the sky. It was a V-2 rocket, which according to Hitler would turn the tide of war. Immediately after the rocket launch the crew dismantled the the launching ramp and disappeared. After this incident which had a strong impact on me I wrote a euphoric letter to my parents saying "The Führer has new weapons and after all we are going to win the war". After arriving in Schleswig-Hostein we became part of the newly created Panzer Grenadier Ersatz-Brigade GD and waited for new tanks which would never arrive. Here I became a POW.

POW

We got captured by British Forces. It was only a few days after the German surrender when we saw that many Serbs in the city started to behave arrogantly. They were probably forced labor workers who wanted to take revenge. The all had brand-new Serbian uniforms and they cursed us. Some threatened and spat upon us.

Inside the city there was the castle Gottorf. There our troops had to hand over their weapons. It was a total surpise to meet Adam there who I had thought to be dead. Unbelievable! He looked bad, his face scarred and hardly able to speak. Being that badly wounded he was waiting for get released and allowed to go home soon. The Brits made me part of a security unit which was responsible for collecting the German weapons. They gave us Mauser rifles, binoculars, helmets with "Military Police" printed on them and also documents in German and English. We stayed at the Graf Möltke Kaserne. Once I met a Major on a bicycle. I saw that he was still carrying his pistol, something which was explicitly forbidden and punishable by the death sentence. I explained this to him and, totally frightened, he handed over his weapon to me.

Inside the POW camp a strict order was established. All units kept their status and were commanded by German officers. Every evening reports were submitted. Those who would have attempted to flee would have gotten shot when caught by the Allies. Some men were really killed when they tried to escape. Personally I was happy that I had survived the war and wasn´t willing to risk my life anymore. At this time the latest news from the rumour-mill was that the German army would march against the Russians once again, this time together with the Americans.

My experiences from living on the countryside paid off in the camp. We didn´t have much food and I was able to indetify certain plants I knew. We even ate snails which we cooked in sea water and swallowed without chewing. Somehow the stomach dealt with them. Everything we could organize was immediately cooked and eaten. I still remember many campfires which burned inside the camp every night. We traded things like watches, weapons and batches and medals for bread or chocolate. Many people died from starvation.

A Czech welcome

In autumn 1945 a commision came to the camp, looking for prisoners who had been Czechoslovakian citizens before 1938. I identified myself as being one of them and thought that they would send me home soon although I wasn´t sure what to expect and how I might get treated at home as a former German soldier. I still had the "Grossdeutschland" cuff title sewn to the inside of my coat.

At first we went to Pilsen which was under American jurisdiction. Amercian soldiers accompanied us and gave us plenty of food. The trip on a train through the destroyed Germany took 15 days. In Pilsen I traded my service cap for bread from a Russian soldier.

On foot we marched to the border. Most of us where from the Hultschiner Ländchen region. One man from Ludgerstad, Paul Maier, a soldier who had served long and was pessimistic about our welcome by the Czechs,   advised me to eat everything I had: "What you have in your belly, they can´t take away".

I did what he told me and unfortunately he was right. My comrades who had believed they would get through with everything the had were in for a nasty surpise. We were searched and the Czechs took away everything. Some of us even got beaten up. I had to hand over everything I had and received dirty, blood drenched clothes. My coat with the Grossdeutschland insignia inside I lost when I traded it to a Russian for bread because I was hungry. Luckily I managed to keep my nice boots. They were climbing boots I had gotten in Cottbus. To make them appear less attractive I had made sure that they were as dirty as possible. This worked and I´ve been wearing them for some more years. A special focus of the search were the SS bloodtype tatoos. Some lads who had been serving in the Waffen SS got separated from us.

From now on the behaviour of the Czechs changed. We were constantly beaten, kicked and insulted as "German pigs". The smallest misbehaviour resulted in a blow to the face with a rifle-butt. Some men lost their teeth in the process.

The beatings continued every day and we hardly had any rest. Many had open bloody wounds and moved onwards suffereing tremendous pain. My stupidity led to my own personal hell. During roll-call everybody was answering the call with the Czech "zde"! but I answered with the German "hier". The guards took me and beat my until i became unconscious. I wasn´t able to move proplery for the next three days. One Korporal displayed especially cruel and sadistic behaviour, beating people with a whip, preferrably in their faces. Over and over again we got asked the same questions "Why did you go to war for Germany. Why have you been in the Wehrmacht. Why ... Why ...?"

The members of the Waffen SS suffered the worst fate. Often, during the night, we hear cries of pain from the building where they were kept. About what happened there we heard only rumours. Later they were taken somewhere else, I don´t know where and we never again heard anything about them.

At home at last

After some time we were allowed to write letters to our families. Those who still were in possession of some money were even allowed to leave. Their papers still indicated them as being POW´s until a political decision was reached.

I still had some Reichsmark which, logically, nobody would accept. If it wasn´t for comradeship .. A comerad of mine sold his engagement ring to the Russians. For the money we were able to buy train tickets to Ostrau. The Czech guards said farewell with a kick into our butts.

This might have been the most beautiful trip of my life.

On 11 November 1945 I finally stood in front of my house. Difficult times lay ahead of me until in 1982 I was allowed to emigrate to Germany where I stayed.

Sometimes in the evening or at night the past comes alive again through memories or nightmares. I see my dead comrades. All of a sudden they were dead and one didn´t even have time to mourn back then. They were gone forever but the war continued. The horrible bombing of Dresden still haunts me to this day. And when the temperatures drop below 0 Celsius, the wind is howling and I´m lying in my comfortable bed my thoughts shift to the ice-cold days at the front. So terrible were the winter months in Russia. But that´s part of the curse of my generation.