The Undaunted (Book 2 of The Undesirables)

Chapter 30: The Troublemaker

Right now, the cold and dim space was being used for a dinner party. Major Polik had invited important officers, including General Seydlitz himself, to hear Hitler's much-anticipated November 8th radio address. Krause had spent several days preparing for the event, gathering chairs and tables and scrounging for liquor and victuals worthy of a general's palette. He often had paused in the effort, reflecting with a self-deprecating smile that he was acting more like a housewife than a soldier – a housewife trying to impress her husband's boss.

Krause couldn't tell if Polik's boss was impressed or not. Krause had swept out the dust, rubble, and broken plaster. He'd covered the dismal walls with Wehrmacht unit banners and, despite his own distaste for them, Nazi swastikas. He'd covered the rough wooden tables and benches with an eclectic collection of cushions and cloths. He'd fashioned seats salvaged from wrecked half-tracks and kubelwagens into easy chairs. And he'd lit the dim space in a magical glow of candlelight. He was proud of the basement's transformed appearance.

He was less proud of the refreshments. The other officers surely had their own carefully horded supplies of delicacies. But supplies had slowed to a trickle in recent weeks so perhaps they genuinely appreciated the minor extravagance of vodka and sardines. They certainly hadn't complained. Krause suspected they were just being polite. He had no way to tell.

The radio address had begun, and all of the assembled officers and their aides were listening attentively. For the first time in Krause's memory Hitler was not ranting and raving in the spoiled-child tone of voice that had made him famous. The Fuhrer spoke with calm reserve; he even sounded halfway sane. "I wanted to come to the Volga," Hitler explained, as if he, personally, was leading 6th Army, "to a specific place and a specific city. It happened to have Stalin's name, but that's not why I went there. It could have had another name."

Hitler paused as his radio audience burst into laughter. He had been accused of being driven by his ego rather than military strategy, and of attacking Stalingrad for the very reason he now denied – because it was named after his communist arch-rival.

"But now," Hitler continued, "this is a very important point. Because from here comes 30 million tons of traffic, including about 9 million tons of oil shipments. From there the wheat pours from these enormous territories of the Ukraine and from the Kuban region then to be transported north. From here comes magnesium ore."

Krause unconsciously nodded to himself. This was the real reason for the attack on Stalingrad. Its importance as a port was a bit overstated, perhaps, but it was true that the Volga was a major artery to the vast Soviet empire and if the Wehrmacht took Stalingrad, they could cut that artery in two. The Soviet Union's armies in the north would be starved of everything an army required to fight.

Krause hated Hitler, and he hated that Hitler took personal credit for the strategies Germany's great Generals had devised for him. But since falling in love with Polik and joining Army Group South, Krause had begun to admire the army itself. He was proud of the Wehrmacht, proud that it was on the verge of achieving what even Napoleon had failed to do.

The trouble was, they hadn't yet taken Stalingrad, and they hadn't yet cut the Volga in two. That was proving far more difficult than the Generals had predicted. These Russians were resilient. It required more than superior tactics to root them out. It required lives and blood. It required German reinforcements.

"We have it now," Hitler continued. "Only a few small pockets of resistance are left." Krause caught his breath in surprise, and noticed he was not the only one. What the hell was Hitler talking about? They didn't have the city, not yet, and they'd only taken one of the river crossings.

"No ships are coming up the Volga!" Hitler announced triumphantly. "That is the important point!" And suddenly his voice was drowned out by the thundering applause of his radio audience.

Krause leaned back on his bench, stunned. It was true that no ships were coming up the Volga, but not because of the German attack. They weren't coming because the weather had turned, and the ice flows were too dangerous to navigate. But that wouldn't last long, maybe a month or a month and a half at most. Then winter would come in earnest and the Volga would freeze over completely. It would no longer be a river – it would be a road.

"Heil Hitler," someone mumbled, as if suddenly remembering.

"Heil Hitler," nodded Krause, and several other officers self-consciously echoed the words. But no one said it earnestly. They all seemed as stunned as Krause.

"What does he mean," Krause ventured cautiously, "when he says, 'we have it'."

General Seydlitz cleared his throat. "I think he means...or he believes...that we are in complete control of the river."

"Are we?" Krause asked, willing to play the role of a naïve NCO who wasn't privy to the full strategic picture.

"To my knowledge, no," replied the General with a frown.

That gave his subordinates the freedom to speak frankly. "What's this business about isolated pockets of resistance?" asked a colonel. "Is Mamayev Hill an isolated pocket? Is Red October? Is the Tractor Factory?"

Krause recognized each of those terrible battlefields, where thousands of Germans had already died, and perhaps tens of thousands of Russians. They were meat grinders of attrition, slaughterhouses in which the Germans killed a never-ending supply of Russian adversaries. And yet more Soviets always appeared, new Russian reinforcements, fresh meat for the abattoirs.

"He isn't here," Seydlitz said, apologizing on behalf of the Fuhrer. "He isn't fully assessed of the situation."

"Shouldn't Paulus be assessing him? Or Manstein?" asked the Colonel, referring to the leaders of 6th Army and 4th Panzer Army, respectively.

"They are doing their best," Seydlitz assured his subordinates. But his voice was less than convincing.

"So long as he sends reinforcements," growled another officer. "We need more men to reduce these 'isolated pockets of resistance'." That drew a cynical chuckle from the assembled soldiers.

"Perhaps he is reinforcing elsewhere," Polik suggested, speaking out for the first time.

All eyes turned to the newly promoted Major, and Krause's heart swelled with pride. His paramour was junior to every other officer present here, and yet they so respected his opinion that they hung on his words.

"Why do you think that?" Seydlitz pressed.

"How many Soviet Armies do you think we have pinned down here?" Polik explained. "More than the two we've committed," he said, answering his own question. "Perhaps Hitler has finally realized that we can't take the city. Perhaps he has decided to leave us here, tying down the bulk of the Soviet forces while Army Group Center storms Moscow, captures Stalin, and ends this war in a single stroke."

"You mean a sneak attack?" asked one of the Colonels.

Polik nodded. "The bulk of the Soviet Air Force is here, too. It shouldn't be too much trouble to assemble a force to the north without Russian planes spotting it."

General Seydlitz nodded and chewed his lip. "That would be crafty," he admitted. "And this radio address, then, is what? Just a feint?"

"Disinformation," suggested Polik.

Krause wanted to believe. He wanted to think Hitler had some great plan that would end the war by Christmas. He wanted to think that they'd stop throwing themselves at the Russian defenders and dig in, instead.

But, like everyone present in that basement, he had trouble believing, because there was a second, unspoken part of Seydlitz' comment. "That would be crafty," he had said, and everyone knew that Hitler was seldom crafty.

Three days later Krause had his answer. Hitler, trying to take advantage of the Soviets' inability to provide reinforcements across the Volga, ordered an all-out offensive throughout the city.

By the end of the week, more than half Krause's battalion was dead, 6th Army was no closer to controlling Stalingrad, and they still hadn't received reinforcements.