Hitler's Vikings Page 14

  It went quiet just before dark fell, and Radbruch gave orders to move forward as planned. While we moved forward towards the enemy, Arne Nilsen was to take responsibility for our vacated position. It took us a long time to carry all the explosives forward without the enemy noticing, but we did put some charges and Teller mines [anti-tank mines] in place. We were so close we could hear the enemy talk, it was a pity none of us spoke Russian. The enemy trenches were heavily manned, but they seemed nervous and it was clear that the soldiers were conscripts fresh out of training.

  Just before we reached our own positions I heard someone calling quietly for me, it was my assistant Erik Bratlien from Nannestad, who had been asked by the Company Commander to get hold of me and call him up on the field telephone. This I did and told him that everyone was in position as agreed. Just as I climbed back into the trench a bombardment started that was so intense I have a hard time describing it. It was estimated later that about 10,000 shells landed on the small area covered by the 1st and 2nd Companies. This must be true, it was so strong that our bunker actually sank lower into the ground because of the force of the explosions. All this while I was lying down at the bunker entrance with the phone held to my ear. We’d established the password ‘Kochloffel’ [’cooking spoon’, or ‘ladle’] that night for the three of us on the same phone line. Per Wang came on the line and told us that the first enemy soldiers were already crawling towards Red Ruin, and that his comrade Per Olav Fredriksen from Fredrikstad was taking over the phone in his place. He then disappeared outside and just a couple of minutes later Fredriksen yelled on the phone: ‘Wang has gone down!’ Soon after that the phone line took a direct hit and the connection was broken. My second-in-command, Nilsen, had responsibility for Ufer Street and held it against the enemy, with fire support from 2nd Company. This all happened while I was crawling towards Red Ruin to take over command. At this point I wasn’t even sure if it had already been taken by the enemy. But I had the feeling that everything was moving around me. The noise was intense, and the shockwaves from the explosions constantly threw me off balance. Taking cover had no effect and there was no safe place to hide.

  All of a sudden everything went completely quiet, and I thought I could be the only survivor as surely no-one else could have lived through a bombardment like that. Our trenches and positions were all completely gone. Where the platoon’s sole machine-gun should have been was just a patch of splintered wood. Then, like a miracle, from a pile of rubble I suddenly heard Fasting’s voice ‘All OK!’ I then had to take charge of the trench leading to Ufer Street because of how important that lone machine-gun was. The enemy now had a perfect view into the trench and fired shots directly into it from below. The trench was completely exposed with no cover at all, and I suddenly became aware of shots being fired along it towards me, so I took cover in a spare firing hole we had dug earlier. Here I was completely covered in dirt from the next two shell bursts which luckily didn’t hit me. With me were two German ‘office soldiers’, Bauer and Wieland, who had requested frontline experience. I had put them down here with cases of hand grenades and with a view directly down into Red Ruin from the rear. Red Ruin was now infested with Russians who had orders to keep on going forward. From our position all we could see was a forest of bayonets, which the two Germans were busy throwing grenades into. Throughout this, Schee somehow kept on firing his machine-gun.

  The other side of the barbed wire, as well as the open ground between me and Red Ruin, seemed like some sort of ‘moving carpet’ consisting of dead and wounded Russian soldiers. The air was filled with screams, and it was impossible to hear any orders or commands from anyone. Throughout this our closest machine-gun was continuously firing accurate bursts into the advancing enemy. This machine-gun was the most important in our whole line, but then I suddenly noticed a change in its rate of fire – it was a jam! I sent a soldier to go and fetch Saxlund’s machine-gun, while I ran to the position of the jammed gun. When I got there the gunner had already taken it apart and was cleaning it as if at a relaxing day at the ranges! I blessed the hard SS training we’d received, which caused us to behave automatically in situations like this. Jacob Kynningsrund from Østfold had crawled up onto the bunker roof where he was being passed grenades by Stener Ulven from Valdres. Stener took the pins out before handing them to Jacob, who in turn would coolly throw them directly into the enemy at the points of greatest danger. The third member of the machine-gun team was using his K98 rifle and firing without stopping. In no time at all the machine-gun was operational again, and we had to order Kynningsund down to man it, even though he felt he was doing more damage to the enemy by throwing hand-grenades at them, and that Ulven could replace him in case he was hit.

  I made a quick visit to Per Wang’s bunker while he was still alive. He seemed very proud when I told him that his men were fighting bravely and holding their positions. Two days before he had managed to get hold of a couple of fresh eggs from behind the frontlines. Our bunker had got one of them on condition I promised to read him his last rites if he fell in battle. Somehow he ‘knew’ he wasn’t going to survive so I granted him his wish.

  Immediately afterwards, while making an inspection of Per’s platoon, I passed another Norwegian soldier sitting across one of his fallen comrades filling machine-gun belts – his friend’s back was the only dry spot he could find. He carried on with tears flowing down his cheeks.

  Per’s second-in-command, William Andersen from Moss, who previously had responsibility for the right flank, now took over full command. Radbruch moved forward but four members of his staff stayed behind to help us cover the area. Per Wang’s body was carried past us to the rear.

  There were no more Russian cheers to hear when I went forward again through the trenches, only horrible screams. Hilde was constantly firing mortar rounds over my head, which flew in a low trajectory before exploding alongside rounds from 14th Company’s anti-tank gun positioned at The Dairy. Now even heavier firing was coming down as Arnfinn Vik’s infantry guns also hit the enemy. With surgical accuracy, and only yards away from us, they protected Red Ruin as well as the area immediately behind where our men were taking cover. The effect of the bombardment must have been enormous, and we could clearly see the endless streams of Russian soldiers withdrawing before coming up against the machine-guns of their own ‘political officers’. These politicals, greatly feared by all, had the power to slaughter their own troops in case of retreat. The poor enemy soldiers were utterly massacred.

  When I reached Schee’s machine-gun nest, I met my assistant Erik Bratlien, who was wading through waist-deep water in a trench we no longer used as spring flood water had submerged it. With several packs of cigarettes in one hand and half a bottle of cognac in the other, he blurted out; ‘Sir, shouldn’t our reserves be used before they get a direct hit?’ I decided to hand out shots of alcohol to everyone, including those who were banned from drinking. Schee, still manning his machine-gun, put a cigarette in his mouth just as two Russians popped up in front of him. He knew they would throw hand-grenades at him unless he could get them first. As he burned off a series of rounds at them he yelled; ‘Sir, can you give me a light please?’ It wasn’t just the training that made good soldiers, being Norwegian was equally important.

  Looking forward over the front it looked extremely dangerous. There were so many Russian soldiers hanging over the barbed wire that you could have literally walked over it. But there were no further enemy attacks, only the medics who we tried to help as best we could. The Russian artillery eventually started firing again, but the shells landed way behind us. We were sure they believed they had wiped us out and that any survivors were running away. Even though exhausted, we grabbed our shovels and set to, to improve our positions again.

  A heavy-set Russian officer was hanging dead over the barbed wire with a map or document case around his neck. We needed the case for our intelligence and agreed to drag him in once darkness fell. But after a short while Per Wang’s man, Per-Ola
v Fredriksen, handed it to me. He had crawled out there himself and cut it loose from the body. The documents were sent to the rear immediately.

  So what had happened? There were perhaps 50 of us altogether from Per’s platoon and my own plus some panzer-grenadiers, defending against the main attack launched at the Red Ruin. But we only had three dead including Per. The Russians must have sent more than a thousand soldiers against us, but since the assaulting troops weren’t the men we normally faced in the line they seemed totally unaware of our positions and any weaknesses we may have had. To throw your own soldiers across the frontline in this fashion should be considered a criminal act. The fact that we had stockpiled ammo, especially hand-grenades and mortar rounds, during the week before the attack, helped us tremendously.

  It was relatively quiet for about three weeks after that before a smaller attack came in along Ufer Street, at the point where our 2nd Company’s positions crossed the road. The attack was thrown back. During the ensuing counter-attack we even destroyed several of their bunkers. Afterwards when we searched these bunkers we discovered a large quantity of American canned foods. This came as a real shock to me at the time, the United States was actually helping communism! After the counter-attack I was given a radio receiver, which later on saved my life when it shielded my head from grenade shrapnel.

  A few days later I was promoted to become an officer. The promotion was solely given me for my accomplishments on the battlefield. I was at that time, and still am today, very proud of what happened during those days on the Leningrad front.

  For me personally, Urizk was the battle that stood out as the fiercest and most violent that I fought during World War II. For some of my closest friends, as well as many enemy Russian soldiers, the battle of Urizk would be their last. They paid the ultimate price.

  In the aftermath of Urizk some 12 Norwegians were awarded the Iron Cross 2nd Class, including Østring, his second-in-command Arne Nilsen and the grenade thrower Stener Ulven. Quisling also made a visit to the DNL at the time, and met both Qvist and Østring (whom he knew well personally anyway of course) along with some of the other volunteers.

  The DNL then mounted an attack of their own with Østring’s company commander, 25-year-old Olaf Lindvig, taking a leading role. Lindvig had been a platoon commander in the Royal Norwegian Infantry Regiment No.5 before the war, he had then fought the Germans during their invasion in 1940 and was a hugely experienced officer:

  Following the Urizk battle, Quisling himself (centre in the black uniform with cap and no helmet) came to see the DNL and present awards. Bjørn Østring (talking to Quisling) organised an honour guard, much to Qvist’s annoyance, who is helmeted just to the left of Quisling. (Erik Wiborg)

  Quisling uses the opportunity of his post-Urizk visit to the DNL to catch up with his friend and devoted follower, Bjørn Østring. (Erik Wiborg)

  Co-ordination for the attack was textbook. The leader of our assault troops fired a flare pistol which was the signal for the grenade launchers to start. The time was 1300hrs on 2 May. Our troops on the ground then opened up with MG34s (machine-guns type 34), submachine-guns, rifles and hand grenades. For these we had previously concocted a crude device in which we attached five hand grenades in a single bundle. This was tossed into the enemy’s bunkers and trenches. One of our volunteers was half Russian and half Norwegian, and soon he was shouting to the Russians in their own language to put their hands up and come out. The heavy machine-guns were emptied into those that didn’t surrender as they broke out of their trenches and ran back towards the city. It was sheer slaughter, a horrific massacre.

  I remember five of them who surrendered. They were miserable specimens. One was a commissar who had the Communist hammer and sickle on his helmet. I remember that he ripped these off and stamped on them in a blind rage. There were two others with a single Norwegian guard in charge. At one point our man took out some tobacco to roll himself a cigarette. The Russians stared at the tobacco hungrily since they didn’t have any. But in their pouches they had some butter so a gentlemanly swap was agreed. The prisoners were also persuaded to part with their waterproof rubber boots.

  I was anxious to have a look at the captured trenches, but as I made my way towards them, an explosion sent me flying. I had stumbled either on a small mine or bomb which could have been dropped from an aircraft.

  With Lindvig out of action and sent to the rear, Østring continued: ‘All the commanders in the Company requested that our German advisor, SS-Hauptscharführer Dieter Radbruch, take over from Lindvig. Radbruch was educated in England and was eventually recognised by us as “Norwegian”.’

  Post-Urizk: Arnfinn Vik and his anti-tank gunners

  After the Urizk battles, the DNL was detached from the 2nd SS Motorised Infantry Brigade, and transferred to its sister formation almost next door, the 1st SS Motorised Infantry Brigade, before being pulled out of the line to rest near the town of Konstantinovka (modern-day Golorowo) just north of Krasnoye Selo. After several weeks of well-earned rest the DNL went back into the line in June. The usual state of play with patrols and random artillery salvoes resumed until 20 July, when the neighbouring Latvian SS battalion was hit by a major Soviet assault. One of Finn Finson’s teams, a two-gun troop led by SS-Oberscharführer Arnfinn Vik, was close by, and when Vik saw the danger he and his men dragged their obsolete 37mm guns almost a kilometre to a blocking position near Novo Panovo. From their new position the Norwegian gunners poured fire into the advancing Soviet infantry, and continued to do so even after one gun was knocked out. Eventually a German police battalion counter-attacked, along with the remaining Latvians, and restored the line.

  As the line stabilised, the Germans were finalising plans for Operation Northern Lights (Unternehmen Nordlicht), the capture of Leningrad. Having successfully assaulted the Black Sea fortress of Sevastopol, Manstein and his entire Eleventh Army were slated to travel north and repeat their feat against Russia’s second city. September 14 was chosen as the start date for the offensive, but the operation was thrown into disarray when the Red Army beat the Germans to the punch and launched their own attack to relieve Leningrad on 24 August. Army Group North struggled to repulse the Soviet assault, and the resources carefully husbanded for Northern Lights were expended in bitter defensive fighting. The DNL’s neighbouring Corps, the Army’s XXVI Corps, was the Soviet point of main effort and suffered badly. The Norwegians were caught up in the fighting and took heavy losses as well. Although Manstein managed to pinch off the Soviet breakthrough, just as with Vlasov’s earlier Volkhov offensive, and destroy seven Red Army divisions and six brigades into the bargain, the attack fatally delayed Northern Lights. As Case Blue began to stall and the nightmare of Stalingrad unfold, the capture of Leningrad fell down the Wehrmacht priority list. Troops began to be pulled out of the region to shore up other fronts and soon the siege lines were stretched thin indeed. Although Leningrad was still surrounded, the Ostheer would never seriously threaten to take the city again.

  Jonas Lie and the 1st SS Police Company

  As the September fighting died down, the DNL received some welcome reinforcements from a rather unexpected source. Back in Norway, members of the police were encouraged to volunteer for service with the DNL in a company all their own, to be led by the Minister for Police himself – ex-Leibstandarte war correspondent and Iron Cross 2nd Class holder, SS-Sturmbannführer Jonas Lie. Some 160 came forward, were formed into the 1st SS Police Company (1. SS- und Polizei-Kompanie, also called the 1. SS-og-Polit Kompanie), and were dispatched east to join their comrades in the trenches. They ended up fighting through the whole autumn and winter. Lie received the Iron Cross 1st Class for their endeavours, as did Artur Qvist for the DNL as a whole.

  Two months after the Norwegian policemen arrived in the line, a worn-down DNL was thrown into the fighting near Krasny Bor on 4 December, where the Dutch volunteers of the SS-Legion Niederland were receiving a pounding. The Norwegians’ 3rd and 4th Companies counter-attacked in support of th
e Dutch, and once again the Front was restored. As usual it was to be only a temporary respite, and by now the DNL was down to 20 officers and 678 other ranks from the original roster of over 1,200 volunteers.

  A quiet Christmas was followed by a vicious new year, as the Red Army once again tried to reach Mga near the Volkhov and lift the siege of Leningrad. Army Group North was equally determined to stop them doing just that. In what became known as the Second battle of Lake Ladoga, Finson’s men went to the aid of the Spaniards of the 250th Infantry Division (the Blue Division) who were struggling to stop wave after wave of Soviet tanks. The Norwegians old 37mm peashooters had been replaced by far more powerful 75mm guns (38/97 models based on First World War French Army gun barrels) which were big enough to blow the Russian T-34 tanks to pieces. As the Soviets came on, tank after tank fell to the Norwegian gunners, but the odds were hugely against and an entire battery had to be spiked and abandoned when it was encircled. The men only just got out alive. By this time Bjarne Dramstad had left 2nd Company and was back as an anti-tank gunner in the 14th Company: