12. Februar 1944
| GEO & MIL INFO | ||||
|---|---|---|---|---|
| Leader of III./G.R.477: 1st Lt Georg Müller[1] |
It’s bright morning. I have to do my round. So I squeeze my legs into the wet boots and get out of the bunker. The private on the first post reports stereotypically: "On post, nothing new, all quiet." I turn left. The next post is a machine-gun firing position. The shelter for this group is a hole covered with boards and earth, like most of the shelters here. The floor is covered with a layer of straw. At the head end are the haversacks, which serve as pillows for the men. Six men are accommodated here. Two of them are standing guard, the others are usually asleep. At the moment, however, they are still awake and I take the opportunity to tell them a few things about the situation and their behaviour towards the enemy. Above all, I tell them to be vigilant. The men who are not awake need to know that there are two comrades out there keeping a close watch so that the others can sleep peacefully. I walk round the whole front of the company. It’s a deep, continuous trench that zigzags along the gently sloping hillside. But the company section is very long and it takes me a long time to visit all the positions in the muddy trench. There is a wire entanglement in front of the trench.
Not far from my command post lies a knocked out Tiger tank.[3] Under this colossus, the Landser have built a bunker. So at least the giant still has a purpose. No ordinary shell can get through this steel block. He doesn’t seem to have much artillery over there, because he rarely fires.
But the combat patrols are active.[4] There are still dead bodies lying around. I glance over the edge of the trench towards the enemy. My eyes are level with the ground, which spreads out in front of me brown and wet like a ploughed field. The wire obstacle rises a few metres in front of the trench, its spiky mesh standing out darkly against the bright sky. A dead Russian hangs in its claws. During one of the last attacks, he got caught in the barbed wire and was fatally hit by a bullet. Now he hangs lifeless in the wire, his upper body half erect, his head tilted forwards onto his chest, his arms hanging limply. He is as brown as the earth. A warning sign for attackers and defenders: death walks around here! Another corpse lies behind my command post, already behind the trench. This Bolshevik had already jumped over the trench when a shot struck him down.
The sentry next to my company command post has just been shot in the head. While we’re still tending to the seriously wounded man, the medical first sergeant arrives with two soldiers carrying a wounded man. He’s been shot in the stomach. This is starting off really great. The guard posts are so well covered that only the guards’ steel helmets protrude over the edge of the trench. Some further observations allow only one explanation: snipers are at work over there! I call the battalion commander and report the loss of two men and the presence of Soviet snipers. I leave the treatment and transport of the two wounded men to the medical first sergeant, who is really in his element and takes care of the seriously wounded with touching care. They are in good hands. He’s a good chap, this medical first sergeant.
The battalion is now led by First Lieutenant Georg Müller.[1] He used to be the leader of the 14th company and, to distinguish him from Max Müller, is called "Schorsch" or "Russenmüller" because he speaks Russian. You can tell from his orders that he is not an infantryman. Instead, he replaces this blemish with a brash tone.
The Russian now becomes more active at night. As soon as it gets dark, he starts chasing machine gun fire sheaves over at regular intervals. With a venomous hiss, they fly flat over the edge of our trench. Flares go off all the time. He is obviously nervous, but we have no intention of attacking him. Perhaps he has noticed the reinforcement of our trench crew by the alarm unit and fears an attack.
We remain calm because we are short of ammunition. We have to economise.
The Russians’ banging only becomes unpleasant when the food haulers have to go off. They wait for a burst of fire, then jump out of the trench and dash to the rear. At the top of the slope is a straw barn, behind which the field kitchen is waiting. So far, thank God, we haven’t had any casualties while fetching food.
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- ↑ 1,0 1,1 In the newspaper news about the Knight's Cross awarded (which happened on 7 Feb 44) Gust was still “a batallion commander in a grenadier regiment”; Müller probably lead the batallion only temporary, until - still in February - Roeder (Benary p. 211) arrived.
- ↑ Situation map from KTB 1.PzA, NARA T-313 Roll 65 Frame 7301085; topographical map M-36-139-D from jccalvin.ddns.net
- ↑ This Tiger, one out of seven or ten the heavy tank battalion 506 had at that time, had run into a mine as early as 30 Nov 43 during an unsuccessful attack by 23 Panzer Division, Panzerkampfgruppe Fechner and had to be blown up. (Dr. Ernst Rebentisch: To the Caucasus and the Austrian Alps - The History of the 23.Panzer-Division in World War II. J.J. Fedorowicz Publishing, 2009, p. 334 f.)
- ↑ On 31 Jan 44 combat patrols were reported, on 8 and 8 Feb there had been numerous containing attacks in the form of advances and penetrations (KTB 6. A., NARA T-312 Roll 1492 000164, Roll 1485 Frame 000729, Roll 1492 Frame 000255, KTB LVII. Pz.K., NARA T-314 Roll 1495 Frame 000029)