A Private's Life in the Wehrmacht during World War II

Werner Mork, pictured above at age 17, turned 18 (military age) just two months prior to the German Invasion of Poland. Although he did not see it as such at the time, he surrendered his youth to war and to the German army.

When the war broke out he rushed to enlist. He enlisted because he loved his country and felt himself to be a patriot. He enlisted because he admired and respected the country's leader, Adolf Hitler, who had settled the social unrest in his small town that had manifested itself as almost daily riots in the streets.

He enlisted because he wanted to see Germany regain its rightful place as a respected power in Europe and undo the humiliation of the Treaty of Versailles.

Most of all he enlisted because he wanted to help reunite the German populations who found themselves cut off from the Fatherland in Alsace-Lorraine, the Sudetenland, Danzig and East Prussia and put an end to the tales of their persecution that filled the newspapers daily.

His memoirs chronicle the life of a ordinary solder in the German army, but it also reflects the gradual disillusionment of the German people and their eventual awakening to an new understanding of humanity and their place in the world.

via Aus Meiner Sicht - The Memoirs of Werner Mork.

On 4th May 1945, Generalleutnant Wolf Hagemann, last GOC of the 48^th Panzer Korps escapes to surrender to the US Army on the west bank of the Elbe by Swimmwagen.

It is the unfortunate destiny of frontier provinces to be in constant dispute between their neighbors: the unwilling, though often resigned victims of interstate tugs-of-war, sometimes going to one country, sometimes to another.

Schleswig and Holstein were two small provinces lying between Prussia and Denmark. Half of the people spoke German; the other half spoke Danish. They had been ruled by the Danish king since 1813 but were not formally part of that country. In 1863 Denmark annexed these two provinces outright.

On February 18, 1864, some Prussian hussars on patrol crossed the border and occupied the Danish village of Kolding. Denmark complained, and Bismarck, plainly seeking annexation, replied as might be expected, prevailing on Austria to support his case.

The Prussians and Austrians attacked; and the Danes, though outnumbered, put up a stubborn resistance. In two weeks, however, Denmark was defeated.

The Austrian infantry had now given up its tall cylindrical shako in favor of a conical variety not unlike the French kepi. In the field, this was encased in an oilskin cover.

In the cavalry, which consisted of cuirassiers, dragoons, hussars and lancers, there had been little change since the war in Italy. The cuirassiers discarded their cuirass in 1860, and the dragoon s, who were now wearing a modernized version of the classical helmet, had absorbed the chevaulegers in 1852. The hussars, twelve regiments strong, were clothed in light or dark blue jackets, and had breeches and pelisses to match. Their shakos were of different colors according to their regiments.

The lancers were still in dark green with red facings, and had reverted to the yellow epaulettes which had been discarded about 1840. In the Prussian Army, the pickelhaube was now firmly established as the standard headdress, although in the artillery the spike was replaced by a ball.

The Prussian dragoons at this time were wearing a light blue tunic, a color which was theirs since Napoleonic times, with facings in regimental colorings. The cuirassiers were in white and the hussars, as usual, in uniforms of different colors for every regiment. A black busby had been in wear since 1850 and the pelisse was discontinued in 1853.

The lancers, or uhlans, wore the traditional lancers' dress of Polish origin (i.e., the square-topped lance-cap and distinctive tunic, orulanka, of blue cloth with regimental facing colors).

In the infantry of the line, a dark blue tunic had been authorized in 1843, with red collar-patches. The trousers were of a very dark blue, almost black, with red piping down the sides.

The light infantry were termed jager and wore the 1843 tunic, but in dark green with red collar-patches. A helmet was issued originally, but replaced in 1854 by a tall conical shako with a peak back and front.

The Danish infantry was in dark blue kepi s and tunics, piped red, and light blue trousers, while the dragoons and hussars wore light blue tunics with a 'Roman' helmet for the dragoons and probably a shako for the hussars.

Peace was signed on August I, 1864 and ratified on October 30. The King of Denmark renounced all his rights in favor of the Emperor of Austria and the King of Prussia. The duchies were merged in the larger Question of the relations between these two powers, who were soon fighting each other; Prussia finally established her supremacy at Sadowa in 1866.

Tents only in the desert.

The Jagdwaffe in late 1942 only had a few battle-worn aircraft at their disposal.

If You check the records of the GenQu 6 Abt at BA/MA, and look at the amount of aircraft delivered to the Jagdwaffe (parts of JG 27, JG 53 and JG 77) in the North African theatre, You will find that they received Bf 109G's in the hundreds during the autumn 1942.

For example:

I./JG 77 got 41 brand new G-2/trop when they were transferring to Africa in Sept/Oct 1942.

During the last two months of 42 they lost about 33 aircraft in total, and got 21, ending up with a strength of 25 G-2 trop at the end of the year (and then they got 17 new G-2 trops in January 1943 also)

The picture is similar for III. Gruppe JG 77.

Another fighter unit in the North Africa was II./JG 53. In the period October 1942 through February 1943 they received 125! Brand new Bf 109G-4/trop

I./JG 27 received 32 G2's and 29 G4's from October 1942 to February 1943.

II./JG 27 was the worst off, they had to take over F-4's from other reequipping Gruppen, but nonetheless received a total of about 60 aircraft during the same period, undoubtedly of mixed condition, but good enough to fly.

III./JG 27 was also at the bottom of the ladder it seems.

However, the established strength of these units comprised until VERY late in 1942 (I am then talking turn of the year), was usually above 25 aircraft per Gruppe.

Many of the following, at the time members of JG 27 with scores ranging from a handful to between fifty and a hundred claims up to the period we are discussing:

Sawallisch, Sinner, Rödel, Krenz, Steis, Schöfböck, Stigler, Steis, Homuth, Monska, Besch, Kientsch, Bendert, Rosenberg, Franzisket, Gläser, Scheib, Hoffmann, Gruber, Krainik, Düllberg, Schneider, Jürgens, Werfft, Unterberger, Stahlschmidt, Körner, Schroer, Steinhauser, Lieres und Wilkau, Kügelbauer, Schulze, Heidel, Boerngen, Kaiser, Vögl, Heinecke, Clade, Kabisch. And of course it could not be the less known (at the time) Brandl, Hanbeck, Döring, Dietz, Jansen or Stückler.

The loss of morale in I./J.G. 27 is valid. It was no doubt a combination of combat fatigue and the loss of senior pilots, Marseille, Stahlschmidt, and Steinhausen, that saw the Gruppe in October 1942. But don't attribute the withdrawal too much simply to Marseille, because the Gruppe had seen 17 months of continuous combat, which was surely significant. Perhaps we can consider Marseille's death the final straw.

As for lack of aircraft for the Luftwaffe in North Africa, yes, this was becoming a problem in October and November 1942 in Egypt, but it was certainly not bringing operations to a standstill. On 21 March 1942, when the Axis supply system was almost at its best, there were 159 Luftwaffe sorties in North Africa, on 6 September 1942 there were 130, and on 22 October 1942 there were 142.

To look at it simply in terms of number of aircraft available:

Luftwaffe Aircraft Strength in North Africa

17.01.42 168

04.04.42 169

10.06.42 233

20.08.42 266

20.10.42 241

What should be noted is that the DAF was consistently getting bigger, and was getting more aircraft with greater performance, notably the Spitfire.

Regarding the idea that the Luftwaffe in North Africa was dependent on a few ace pilots, I calculated that between February and 23 October 1942, the top ten Luftwaffe aces claimed 424 of the 930 victories in North Africa. To me, that indicates an over-reliance on a few pilots.

Let's not also forget that regardless of how many planes the JG's had on hand, the German effort still had to deal with issues of fuel, spares, serviceability and the fact that the Allies were either bombing the crap out their landing grounds or attacking their lines of supply almost at will; regardless of how many planes the JGs had on hand, the question is how many could they put in the air.

When dealing with the death of Marseille, Shores and Ring state that September 1942 had been a very bad month for I/JG27, three of the unit's most successful pilots having been killed. (Presumably this includes Marseille himself.) That would certainly weaken the unit's experience level.

Evidence of the operations of the remaining three Jagdgruppe in this period suggests that they regularly operated in small numbers, and could only assemble any significant number by combining elements from all three units. This is entirely consistent with units at the end of a long and troubled supply line, having difficulty maintaining serviceability.

Luftwaffe losses on the ground in North Africa, February - 23 October 1942

To bombing: 64 aircraft destroyed, 89 aircraft damaged To special forces: 37 aircraft destroyed, 19 aircraft damaged Total: 101 destroyed, 108 damaged.

These figures are far from complete, but are all accounted for in German records.

Serviceability is also an important issue. The Luftwaffe in North Africa was always behind the DAF in this regard. The DAF consistently maintained serviceability of 70-75%, while the Fliegerführer Afrika never rose above 67%.

Fliegerführer Afrika Serviceability

17.01.42 - 51.7

04.04.42 - 50.2

10.05.42 - 67.3

10.06.42 - 61.3

27.07.42 - 54.3

20.08.42 - 60.1

20.10.42 - 53.5

By Andrew Arthy

The greatest tank battle in history. After the disastrous loss at Stalingrad in World War II, German army commanders, with Adolf Hitler’s enthusiastic approval, planned a massive offensive in 1943. In March, German field marshal Fritz von Manstein had achieved a great victory at Kharkov for Army Group South, leaving a bulge of 100 miles north and south and 75 westward into the German lines of Army Group Central at Kursk. Bad weather and German indecision interfered with von Manstein’s plans for a pincer movement to encircle the Soviet army in the salient, allowing the Red Army under General Nikolai Vatutin in the south and General Konstantin Rokossovski in the north time to build defenses and prepare for a large counterattack.

On 10 May, Hitler consented to the plan called Operation ZITADELLE. Colonel General Model’s Ninth Army, with seven Panzer, two Panzergrenadier, and nine infantry divisions, were to attack from the north and Colonel General Hoth’s Fourth Panzer Army, with 10 Panzer, one Panzergrenadier, and seven infantry, would advance from the south—roughly 570,000 men.

Delayed until 4 July, the Germans found themselves confronted by 11 Russian armies (alerted by Allied ULTRA intelligence) of 977,000 men. Soviet defenses in the north corner of the salient were particularly dense with 2,200 antitank and 2,500,000 antipersonnel mines and 20,000 guns of various kinds. For the next eight days, the Germans tried to advance in the face of bitter fighting but Soviet artillery knocked out 40 percent of German armor. On 12 July, at the battle of Prokhorovka, 600 German tanks clashed with 850 Soviet tanks. The battle became a war of attrition with both sides calling for reinforcements. On 13 July, due to the American invasion of Sicily and fears of a landing in Italy, Hitler ordered German units to disengage. Retreating on 17 July, the Nazis left 70,000 dead and 2,950 tanks on the battlefield. The Soviets following the German retreat ordered an immediate counteroffensive. The lack of victory at Kursk by the German army spelled an end to any more major offenses on the Russian front to the end of the war.

References and further reading:

Dunn, Walter S. Kursk: Hitler’s Gamble. Westport, CT: Praeger, 1997.

Glantz, David M. The Battle of Kursk. Lawrence: University Press of Kansas, 1999.

Solov’ev, Boris G. The Battle of Kursk, 1943. Moscow: Novsti Press Agency Publishing House, 1988.

The big J I appeared so ungainly to crew members that it was unofficially known as the “Moving Van.” However, it was heavily armored and ideally configured for the dangerous work of ground support.

For many years Hugo Junkers proffered the idea of all-metal airplanes to a skeptical German High Command. Commencing in 1915, when he constructed the first metallic monoplane, Junkers developed a succession of viable designs that had obvious military applications. His perseverance paid off in 1917, when the government finally approached him to design and develop an armored biplane for the Infanterieflieger (ground-support units). The ensuing Junkers J I turned out to be one of the most unusual, if not outright ugly, aircraft employed by the German air arm during this conflict.

Despite a conventional biplane configuration, the J I was unique in several aspects. Its most prominent feature was the enormous top wing, spanning more than 50 feet tip to tip. It possessed a thick airfoil section and cantilevered construction and was made entirely of metal frames with corrugated covering. The lower wing was of identical planform but nearly a third smaller. The intrinsic strength of these units meant that they were fastened to the fuselage only by a series of inboard struts. The J I’s fuselage, meanwhile, possessed an unusual octagonal cross-section. Its front half consisted of a completely armored “tub” that housed the motor, fuel, pilot, and gunner. To the rear were large, almost rectangular tail surfaces, also covered in metal. In service the J I was heavy to fly, required a long runway for takeoff, and was difficult to land on short strips. It was so ungainly in bulk that crew members christened it the Mobelwagen (Moving Van).

Despite appearances, Junkers’s design was superbly adapted for infantry close-support missions. Its heavy armor made it nearly invulnerable to small arms fire from below, and it also exhibited good low altitude characteristics. No less than 227 of these rugged craft were built, and they served with distinction along the Western Front throughout 1918.

Type: Light Bomber

Dimensions: wingspan, 52 feet, 5 inches; length, 29 feet, 10 inches; height, 11 feet, 1 inch

Weights: empty, 3,885 pounds; gross, 4,795 pounds

Power plant: 1 × 200–horsepower Benz BZ IV liquid-cooled in-line engine

Performance: maximum speed, 96 miles per hour; ceiling, 13,100 feet; range, 193 miles

Armament: 3 × 7.92mm machine guns

Service dates: 1918

Left

8.8 CM GUN

In army use these equipped the heavy batteries of the Divisional flak abteilungen and also certain Heeresflak abteilungen. They were normally modifications of the standard 8.8cm Flak 18, 36, or 37 developed from 1933-on, and were supplemented from 1943 by the genuine dual purpose 8.8cm Flak 41 (Flak equivalent of the 8.8cm Pak 43). They were normally motor-drawn.

Right

60 CM MORSER KARL

Also known as the Gerat 040, this was designed as a heavy bombardment weapon for siege operations. They had been initially designed to bombard the Maginot Line, but when this was overcome by other means, were used in operations on the Russian Front, notably Sebastopol and Brest-Litovsk. The Gerat 041 was built later with a 54 cm mortar instead of the 60 cm of the Gerat 040. Six Gerat 041 vehicles were built during 1943-4.

Top

120 MM MORTAR 42

This was a German copy of the standard Russian mortar, but fitted with a wheeled cartridge. The range of this piece and the weight of the bomb it fired gave it power equivalent to a field howitzer.

Total weight 280 kg

Weight of shell 16 kg

Traverse 16°

Elevation 45-85°

Range 6,600 m

Bottom

Infanterie Geschutze – IG

The 15cm SLG33, a, more conventional gun that became the standard close-support howitzer. The 15 cm calibre was the largest ever issued as an infantry gun. Few were made, however, due to the light alloys required for production being monopolized by the Luftwaffe.

1. The MG42

The MG42 was built mainly from metal pressings and at first sight appeared so crude that it was seriously underestimated by allied intelligence. It was in fact, a first class equipment with all the versatility of its predecessor except that it fired only continuous shot — but at the very high cyclic rate of fire of 1200 rounds a minute. As with the MG34, it was issued to infantry sections as a light machine gun and, complete with tripod and carriage, to heavy machine gun sections and platoons. The designation 'medium machine gun' in this role was a purely allied one and was not recognised by the Germans. Its only drawbacks were that the square body section made it unsuitable for fitting as a tank machine gun in the existing mantlets and that the torque caused by the high rate of fire made the muzzle lift if the gun was fired in long bursts. The chromium barrel required changing less often.

2. THE STURMGEWEHR 44

This weapon was intended to be the main short-range machine pistol of the German Army, but too few were issued to be an effective replacement. Regulations for firing the Sturmgewehr laid down that a burst of fire should not exceed five rounds because of the high recoil vibration.

Calibre: 7.92 mm (a short version of rifle ammunition was fired)

Length: 94cm

Weight: 5.6 kg

3. GRENADE LAUNCHER (SCHIESSBECHER)

This cup-shaped launcher could be fitted to any rifle in service. It fired small grenades high- explosive smoke or flare as well as anti-tank. Jt consisted of a short 30 mm barrel which screwed onto the muzzle of the rifle and was retained in place by a pair of fastening hooks. There was a grenade sight on the left hand side of the rifle, and it was calibrated to fire over ranges from 50 to 250 m. The grenade in the launcher was projected by means of a special blank cartridge. One man in a section of ten carried the Schiessbecher grenade launcher, and he also carried 10 high-explosive and 5 anti-tank grenades.

In Operation Frülingswind von Arnim ordered four armoured battle groups forward on 14 February in the area of Sidi Bou Zid held by 34th Infantry Division's 168th Regimental Combat Team and 1st Armored Division's Combat Command A. The defenders' dispositions were poor, with concentrations dispersed so that they were unable to be mutually supportive. By 15 February CCA had been severely damaged leaving the infantry units isolated on hill tops. Combat Command C was ordered across country to relieve Sidi Bou Zid but were repelled with heavy losses. By the evening of 15 February three of the Axis battlegroups were able to head towards Sbeitla, 20 miles (32 km) to the northwest. Pushing aside the remains of CCA and CCC, the battlegroups were confronted by Combat Command B in front of Sbeitla. With the help of air support CCB held on through the day. However, the air support could not be sustained and the defenders of Sbeitla were obliged to withdraw and the town lay empty by midday on 17 February.

To the south, in Operation Morgenluft, an Italian First Army battlegroup made up of the remains of the Afrika Korps under Karl Bűlowius had advanced towards Gafsa at dusk on 15 February to find the town deserted, part of a withdrawal to shorten the Allied front to facilitate a reorganisation involving the withdrawal of French XIX Corps in order to re-equip. US II Corps withdrew to the line of Dernaia-Kasserine-Gap-Sbiba with XIX Corps on their left flank vacating the Eastern Dorsal to conform with them. By the afternoon of 17 February Rommel's troops had occupied Feriana and Thelepte (roughly 15 miles (24 km) southwest of Kasserine) forcing the evacuation on the morning of 18 February of Thelepte airfield, the main air base in British First Army's southern sector.

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Baptism of Fire: Kasserine Pass, 1943

By Eric Niderost.

In the winter of 1942-43 the Allies had every reason to believe that they were on the verge of total victory in North Africa. It started that November, when Field Marshal Erwin Rommel's Panzerarmee Afrika was decisively defeated by the British Eighth Army at the Second Battle of El Alamein. It wasn't merely a defeat, but a rout, and surviving German and Italian units were forced into a headlong retreat through Libya.

The Axis disaster at El Alamein coincided with Operation Torch, three Allied landings in French North Africa far to the west. The Torch landings were mainly an American effort, and though the troops were green they were confident of victory. Rommel seemed trapped between American forces advancing to block his retreat and British forces in hot pursuit to his rear.

Field Marshal Rommel had performed wonders in two years of desert warfare, earning him the respect and ultimately the admiration of friends and enemies alike. Allied air and naval forces often reduced his supplies to a trickle, and he was usually outnumbered by his British foes. Adolf Hitler was preoccupied with his ongoing Russian campaign and failed to appreciate the strategic significance of the North Africa. Many of Rommel's fellow officers were old-school aristocrats bred in the Prussian tradition, and to them he was a middle-class upstart.

In spite of all these difficulties Rommel won a number of brilliant victories and came within an ace of capturing the Suez Canal, key the Middle East and Britain's lifeline to India and East Asia. Rommel led from the front, a man who was a masterful tactician and strategist, imbued with an offensive spirit that exploited enemy weaknesses. Rommel became larger than life, a man christened with the sobriquet “Desert Fox”

In the fall and winter of 1942-43 the “fox” seemed at bay, surrounded by a host of Allied “hounds.” Panzerarmee Africa was a broken reed, a mere shadow of its former self. About half of Rommel's command were killed, wounded, or taken prisoner, and 450 tanks and 1,000 guns were taken or destroyed.[1] Rommel himself was exhausted and increasingly prone to periods of ill health. Headaches plagued him, and he came down with a bout of nasal diphtheria.

Yet Allied hopes of total victory turned out to be premature. The Torch invasions finally aroused Hitter from his lethargy on North African affairs. Enraged, he occupied southern France and began to pour reinforcements into Tunisia. German and Italian troops were easily ferried into Tunisia from Sicily, only one night's voyage distant. General des Panzertruppen Han-Jurgen von Arnim's Fifth Panzer Army was the main element in this surge of Axis troops.

By January 1943 Rommel had retreated some 1,400 miles and his men's morale was as low as their casualties had been high. Field Marshal Bernard Law Montgomery's Eighth Army took Tripoli—Rommel's main supply base-- on January on January 23, 1943, but the triumph was short lived. The Allied pursuit was literally bogging down, with heavy winter rains turning the Tunisia's yellowish soil into a sea of primordial muck.

The Torch landing forces were partly bogged down as well, but here politics was as bad as the weather. French colonial forces in Algeria and elsewhere had divided loyalties. Many hated the Germans and favored the Free French under General Charles De Gaulle. Still others were loyal to the collaborationist Vichy government and disliked the British for real or imagined slights after France fell to the Nazis in 1940.

Things were sorted out, and colonial French troops joined the Allies, but all this negotiation and political wrangling diverted attention from the military campaign. General Dwight D. Eisenhower was supreme commander in the Mediterranean theater, a job that demanded tact as well as diplomatic skills.

Eisenhower performed admirably, but he was too often handicapped by political considerations in the early stages of the campaign. In early February he had to attend the famous Casablanca Conference and consult with President Franklin Roosevelt and Prime Minister Winston S, Churchill. He finally left the conference on February 12 and immediately took a tour of the Tunisian front. [4]

Rommel received word that he was to be recalled to Germany for rest and recuperation. There was to be a reorganization of his forces; Panzerarmee Africa would be designated the German-Italian Panzer Army and placed under the command of General Giovanni Messe. 3 But the Desert Fox did not want to leave Africa on such a sour note. Rommel wanted to redeem himself and restore his reputation, tarnished after Alamein and what to him was an ignominious retreat

The Desert Fox was a keen observer and a strategic opportunist. He saw weaknesses in the American Torch forces, troops were green and largely untested. Rommel began to think in terms of an offensive, using the Fifth Panzer Army and a hopefully rested and reequipped Panzerarmee Afrika. If Rommel could smash through the inexperienced American line, he could rush through Kasserine Pass and take Tebessa, a major allied supply hub. 5 There was also a possibility that Rommel could sweep north and take remaining Allied forces—now facing von Arnim's Fifth Panzer Army—in flank and rear.

If and when his plan was approved, Rommel knew he wouldn't have to worry about Montgomery's Eighth army advancing in his rear. There was a series of old French fortifications called the Mareth Line that would hold Montgomery in check—at least for a time. Rommel planned to man the Mareth line with his infantry, reserving his more mobile armored forces for the proposed attack.

The American II Division would be Rommel's primary target. It was commanded by Major General Lloyd Fredendall, a man full of bravado and “macho” posturing. He had a habit of “tough guy” talking that alienated subordinates and sometimes made his orders unclear. 6

Rommel argued for an offensive, and at first it seemed like a tough sell. On paper German operations in Africa were controlled by the Italian Comando Supremo, though Rommel generally had a free hand. The Desert Fox also had to deal with Luftwaffe Generalfeldmarshall Albert Kesselring, who had been appointed Oberbefehlshaber Sud (Commander in Chief, South), an area which encompassed the whole Mediterranean.

Field marshal Rommel's plan was approved, though scaled down. Instead of one major offensive thrust through the mountains, there would be two separate attacks. General von Arnhem would launch an offensive codenamed Operation Fruhlingswind (Spring Wind), while Rommel would attack to the south of von Arnhem under the designation Morgenluft (Morning Breeze)

Tunisia is a fist of land that thrusts out into the Mediterranean Sea, a region of arid plains and formidable mountain ranges. The Western Dorsal and Eastern Dorsal were two mountain chains that ran roughly parallel to the coast, though 70 miles inland. These two rocky “backbones” were all but impassible, save for a number of passes that cut through their rugged slopes. Allied units had already advanced through the Western Dorsal and established a front line that touched the western edge of the Eastern Dorsal.

The northern part of the line was held by the British 1st Army under Lt. General Sir Kenneth A.N. Anderson. Americans felt uncomfortable around him, considering him a “dour” Scotsman. Like most British officers he liked to closely supervise the tactical plans of subordinates, but Americans felt this was interference. Anderson's main focus was this northern segment near the coast, where he felt the decisive showdown with the Germans would ultimately take place.

The center of the Allied line was held by “Free French” troops of the 19th Corps D' Armee. They were largely colonial troops of varying quality, poorly equipped until the Americans gradually gave them more up-to-date weapons. The officers were almost stereotypes of Gallic pride, always eager to show their courage and sometimes taking offense at “slights” to French “honor.”

But it was the southern end of the Allied line that gave Eisenhower the most worry. As soon as he was able to break away from the Casablanca Conference he traveled to make an inspection of the II Corps. Eisenhower was appalled; in fact, in some respects things were even worse than he imagined.

The problems started at the top. General Fredendall established his headquarters an incredible eighty miles to the rear of the front line in a nearly inaccessible ravine. He seemed to be obsessed with air attack, so he had a swarm of engineers busy digging a network of underground bunkers for himself and his staff. As Eisenhower remarked later, “It was the only time during the war that I ever saw a higher headquarters so concerned over its own safety that it dug itself underground shelters.”8

Eisenhower also visited the oasis village of Sidi Bou Zid, near the western entrance of the Faid Pass that sliced through the Eastern Dorsal. Axis forces were on the other side of the mountain chain, and who knew what their plans might be? If they decided to mount an offensive, Eisenhower saw American forces were ill prepared.

The troops were green, which couldn't be helped, but they were also lackadaisical.

Defensive mine fields had yet to be put down, though Americans had been in the area at least for a couple of days. There were always excuses, and assurances that such tasks would be done “tomorrow.”

Though Eisenhower didn't know the Germans were poised to launch a major attack, he did recognize what had to be done. Fredendall had scattered his armored units, so Eisenhower ordered that they be gathered into a mobile reserve ready to confront any German attempt to break though the mountain passes. Eisenhower's reasoning was sound, but too late. It was the evening of February 13, 1943, and for the Americans guarding the Faid Pass and elsewhere along the southern line time had run out.

The first part of the German offensive—Operation Fruhlingswind-- began in the early morning hours of February 14. The 10th Panzer Division smashed through the Faid Pass, using a blinding sandstorm as a perfect cover. At the same time the veteran 21st Panzer raced through the mountains to the south of Sidi Bou Zid then turned north, intending to link up with the 10th Panzer.

Two hills, known locally as Djebel Lessouda and Djebel Ksiara, flanked Sidi Bou Zid and seemed good defensive positions on paper. Fredendall placed infantry units on the tops of each hill, intending then to slow the German advance until U.S, armor could deal with them. Unfortunately there were too few men on the hills, and they were too far away from each other to provide mutual support. 9 The hilltop infantry were reduced to helpless observers of an American debacle unfolding on the plains far below.

Colonel Thomas D. Drake of the 165th Infantry was on Dejebel Ksiara, watching the spectacle below him with growing frustration. Drake phoned the command post at Sidi Bou Zid, warning them that some American artillery were already showing signs of panic. The local HQ couldn't believe it, insisting these men were only “shifting positions.” “Shifting positions, Hell,” Drake responded, “I know panic when I see it.” 10

Nearby Djebel Lessouda was also powerless to intervene in any meaningful way. Lt. Colonel John Waters commanded there, and once the sandstorm lifted he could plainly see what he estimated to be at least 60 German tanks and numerous other vehicles. Waters was the son-in-law of Major General George S. Patton, though Patton had not yet become famous as one of America's best military leaders.

It was time for American armor move forward to confront the growing threat. Lt Colonel Louis Hightower's force—two companies of tanks and about a dozen tank destroyers—rumbled out of Sidi Bou Zed to attack 10th Panzer head on. Hightower and his inexperienced crews were brave but badly outnumbered and facing a well-prepared enemy. German 88 mm artillery scored hit after hit, turning American armor into flaming coffins one by one.

Hightower was also facing Tiger tanks, new and powerful additions to the German arsenal. The combination of German artillery shells and long-range tank fire proved too much for Hightower's force, who tried in vain to conduct fighting retreat in the face of heavy odds. Col Hightower's own tank was knocked out, but not before he had destroyed four panzers. Hightower and his crew managed to escape the burning hulk and walked from the battlefield. Only seven of Hightower's tanks survived the defeat. No less than 44 American tanks were lost, and Sidi Zou Zed had to be abandoned.

Before long 21st Panzer linked up with 10th Panzer and moved quickly to consolidate their gains. The American infantry on the two hills were now cut off, literally islands of resistance in a German “sea.” Colonel Drake still stubbornly held Dejebel Ksiara and Colonel Waters Dejebel Lessouda, but chances of a breakout were diminishing.

Back in his headquarters General Fredendall refused to allow Waters and Drake to escape while there was still time. Fredendall's stubbornness was compounded by faulty assumptions and bad intelligence. British General Anderson, Fredendall's superior, was convinced that Sidi Zou Zid was merely a diversionary attack and prepared for a larger blow further north. 11 Allied intelligence also insisted that there was only one Panzer division in the south.

As a result only one tank battalion—Lt Colonel James Alger's Second Battalion, 1st Armored Regiment—was sent to deal with the Germans and rescue the 2,500 Americans trapped on the two hills. Alger's equipment was good—mainly M-4 “Sherman” tanks—but tactics were poor and the men brave but inexperienced. They also did not realize they were going to face not one but two Panzer Divisions. The result was an almost textbook example of what not to do in desert armored warfare

Alger's counterattack began on February 15. The Shermans came forward at a high rate of speed, which meant that huge dust clouds marked their passage. So much dust as kicked up crews were blinded, and the thick plumes made them easier to spot and target. The American tanks rolled forward in a rough V formation, with tank destroyers on the flanks. It was like an old-style cavalry charge, but the Germans wee about to bring the Americans into the twentieth century.

German artillery that was hidden in olive groves opened fire, and German tanks attacked in the flanks. Before long the Americans were trapped, engaging veteran PzKmpw IV's at point-blank range. Only four American tanks managed to escape the debacle. The entire battalion was wiped out, with 50 tanks lost and some 300 men dead, wounded, or captured.

Realizing at last that rescue was impossible Fredendall gave belated permission for the two trapped hilltop forces to tray and break out on their own. Colonel Drake led his men down the slops under the cover of darkness, but soon encountered German tanks

Drake tried to bluff his way out, shouting “go to Hell” when the Germans demanded surrender He and he men were soon made prisoners. 11

Colonel Waters and many of his command were also taken, with perhaps one-third—about 300—out of the original 900 getting back to Allied lines. The whole Allied line was in jeopardy, and the Germans seemed on the brink of a major victory. There was nothing left to do but fall back to the next line of defense—the Western Dorsal chain, some 50 miles away. With luck, the Western Dorsal passes—particularly the important Kasserine Pass—could be held and the German offensive stopped.

The retreat to the Western Dorsals proved a nightmare. The battered II Corps had been badly defeated and with that defeat came a crisis of confidence. The roads west were jammed with fleeing vehicles, providing easy targets for rampaging German Stuka dive bombers swooping down from the sky like avenging furies.

In the meantime Rommel's Operation Morgenluft had swung into action just south of Von Arnim's so-far successful Fruhlingwind. Rommel met with little resistance, and the field Marshal was delighted when the Allied airfield at Thelepte was captured with 50 tons of much-needed fuel and lubricants. But the offensively-minded Rommel was disturbed by the fact that von Arnim did not exploit the successes thus far. Von Arnim argued that he couldn't advance too far because the supply and fuel situation was iffy at best. Rommel was unconvinced.

Rommel wanted to assemble all available Axis forces for a major thrust through Kasserine Pass. Once though the pass, he'd take the major Allied supply depot at Tebessa then push on to the coast at Bone. With luck, this northwestern thrust would get him behind General Anderson's British 1st Army, which would be trapped and annihilated.

Unfortunately Rommel's bold plan depended on immediate action—but his superiors had to approve it first. At least a day was wasted while Kesselring and the Italian high command mulled it over. In the end Rommel's proposal was given the green light under the code name Sturmflut (“Stormflood”), but it was a somewhat vague, water-down version of the field marshal's proposal.

Under Sturmflut the Axis forces were to push through Kasserine Pass then start heading in the direction of Le Kef. Compared to Rommel's original plan this was a shallow, “half-hearted” envelopment of Allied forces, but something was better than nothing. All Rommel knew was he had the green light, and he acted accordingly. The battle for Kasserine Pass was about to begin.

General Fredendall's main task was to defend the Western Dorsal barrier against Axis attack—but where was Rommel going to strike? Kasserine wasn't the only pass that cut through the mountains, so he spread his forces thin to cover all possibilities. Some British and French units came in to help, but the Allied defenses were still weak.

Kasserine was initially defended by Anderson Moore's 19th Combat Engineer Regiment, a unit whose main duties were construction, not active duty fighting. Fredendall summoned Col Alexander Stark of the 26th infantry and told him to hold the pass. “I want you to go to Kasserine,” Fredendall said, “and pull a Stonewall Jackson.”

It was a reference to the Civil War, when Confederate general Thomas Jackson had earned the nickname “stonewall” for a tenacious defense. It was typical of Fredendall to make “colorful” quips when issuing orders, phrases that contained little real substance. Stark arrived at Kasserine on February 19th, just as the Germans were beginning their attack in hopes of a breakthrough.

Kasserine pass was a rocky defile that narrowed to about 1,500 yards—some accounts even say it was narrower at 800 yards. But once past that “bottleneck,” Kasserine's western entrance broadened to a wide basin that split into two roads. One road led west to Tebessa and the vital Allied supply base, while the other trailed north to the town of Thala. The Americans had artillery positions at both roads, ready to concentrate fire as the enemy emerged from the narrow Kasserine bottleneck.

February 19th was miserable for all the combatants. A cold wind chilled soldiers to the bone, and drenching rains added to the discomfort. The Germans tried to slip though American positions under the cover of a thick developing fog, but their movements were luckily detected. Artillery, tank destroyer, and small arms fire soon sent then packing.

The German attack on Kasserine was led by General Karl Bulowius, who seemed to hold such contempt for the Americans he kept ordering direct assaults. About 3:30 that same day Bulowius sent the Germans forward once again, this time backed by Italian tanks. They ran into American minefields placed their earlier by the long-suffering and inexperienced engineers and were stopped dead in their tracks.

Bulowius, still confident, waited for the coming of night. The Germans would infiltrate American defenses under the cover of darkness, slipping through the hills and ridges that formed Kasserine's shoulders. These “phantom” raiders were partly successful, unnerving green units already shaken by heavy fighting. On the Tebessa road one company of engineers broke and ran, and one group of German infiltrators actually captured 100 Americans.

Panic became contagious, and the situation was so fluid even some officers didn't know what was going on. American soldiers, some as individuals and some in small groups, abandoned their positions seeking safety in the rear. Even some forward artillery observers abandoned their posts, explaining “The place is too hot!” 13 American infantry reinforcements and British tanks arrived during the night and stabilized the situation.

Saturday, February 20 dawned cold and wet, but the Germans had still not achieved the desired breakthrough. Rommel had personally arrived, and was not happy with what he saw. Time is everything in war, and Rommel knew he didn't have much left to achieve victory. Montgomery's Eighth Army was far to the east, but fast approaching the Mareth Line.

Rommel's presence had a positive effect, and for a time it seemed as if the heady “old days” of 1941-42 were back again. The Germans employed a relatively new weapons, Nebelwerfer multiple rocket launchers, which Americans quickly dubbed “screaming Meemies” because of the terrifying sounds they made.

The 10th Panzer moved through the Pass in force, only to be met by a handful of British Valentine and Crusader tanks under Lt Colonel Gore of the Royal Buffs and American tank destroyers positioned in roadblocks. The British and Americans fought valiantly, but the issue was never in doubt. The Allied armor, outnumbered and outgunned, was destroyed in detail.

The Germans were though the main part of Kasserine pass and seemingly on the point of a breakthrough. Once on the western side of the pass, Rommel faced two roads—one going southwest towards the Tebessa supply center, and another going north to Thala and then on to Le Kef. Le Kef was the nominal objective of Sturmflut, but Rommel was lukewarm about enveloping the British First army.

In the end the Field Marshal sent forces down both routes. The Kampfgruppe DAK (Deutsches Afrika Korps) went the road to Tebessa while the 10 Panzer traveled north towards Thala and (in theory) Le Kef. But more Allied units were being redeployed and coming into the battle, stiffening resistance.

Colonel Paul Robinson's Combat Command B (CCB) of the 1st Armored Division had seen fighting in December gave the Germans a rough time on Tebessa road. Accurate tank and artillery fire stalled the Axis drive, and later American infantry pushed the Germans back and actually recaptured some equipment lost earlier.

German forces driving down the northern road enjoyed a much greater success against the Allied forces defending Thala. British General Charles Dunphie's 26th Armoured Brigade fought hard but their equipment could not match German tanks. British Crusader and Valentine tanks were outranged and outgunned, and their armor was thinner. Soon the desert landscape was littered with knocked out British armor, their flaming hulls sending thick black coils of smoke into the sky.

Dunphie lost 38 tanks and 28 guns, and the Germans bagged 571 prisoners. British defenses had crumbled, and the road to Thala was open. But Axis forces might have been victorious, but they were not unscathed. German and Italian losses had been relatively light, though some individual units like the Italian had been decimated.

But the main problem was a crippling shortage of fuel and ammunition. More and more Allied units were coming into the fight, and Axis advances—once so promising-- had either slowed to a crawl or had been stopped in their tracks. On February 22 Rommel called off all offensive actions and the Germans withdrew to the east. The Desert Fox's last gamble had failed. 14

In a sense the U.S. Army was the real winner at Kasserine Pass. The North African campaign was a testing ground for American forces, enabling them to gain experience and try developing weapons and tactics. Incompetent or mediocre commanders were weeded out and replaced. General Fredendall was relieved of command, and replaced by General George S. Patton.

American training was sound on the whole, but armored theory had to be rethought and reforms introduced. Rommel had shaken the Americans out of their cock-sure complacency, hardening them for a long and drawn out struggle. Thanks to the hard lessons so painfully learned at Kasserine, the United States Army would achieve victory in Europe in 1945.

Footnotes

[1]. John MacDonald, Great Battles of WWII (Philadelphia: Courage Books, 1993), p. 90 [2]. Wikipedia article on line, “Kasserine Pass” [3]. Stephen Zaloga, Kasserine Pass 1943 (London:Osprey), p.12 [4]. Zaloga, Kasserine, p. 36 [5]. Zaloga Kassrine, p. 45 [6]. Zaloga, Kasserine, p. 17 [7]. Richard Collier, The War in the Desert (Alexandria, VA:Time-Life, 1973), p.160 [8]. Ibid [9]. Collier, p. 63 [10]. Ibid [11]. Ibid [12]. Ibid [13]. Ibid [14]. Stephen W Sears, Desert War in North Africa (NY: American Heritage Publishing, 1973), p 139

This article appeared in the Summer 2008 edition of Military Heritage Magazine

The debate about the exact number of troops defending Budapest continues to this day. Contemporary Soviet press notices mention some 70,000 prisoners. According to a report of the Budapest Corps Group, based on reconnaissance figures of 31 December 1944, the number of German and Hungarian fighters at the Pest bridgehead (where 60 per cent of the defenders were stationed) was 37,300. A few weeks later, Malinovsky reported 188,000 defenders and, in mid-February, a total of 138,000 prisoners: these figures were adopted by later Soviet and Hungarian authors, with the exception of Sándor Tóth. On 31 December the German Army Group South wrote about 50,000 Hungarian and 45,000 German troops trapped in the encirclement, which is also regarded as correct by Tóth. Gosztonyi cites 33,000 Germans and 37,000 Hungarians, based on Pfeffer- Wildenbruch’s statements. The command of the Hungarian I Army Corps tried to take stock of its units on several occasions, but in the confusion achieved meagre results. Even Sándor Horváth, the army corps’s chief of staff, had to confess his bafflement:

During the 7 weeks of the siege I was unable to obtain any convincing information about the combat strengths of the units in action within and outside the battle order or about the arms and ammunition situation. The corps’s quartermaster, General Staff Captain Dezsó Németh, after repeated efforts could only establish that the ration strength was fluctuating around 40,000.

Such disparities cannot be attributed merely to the loss of documents. Nor is it sufficient to argue that originally the Hungarian I Army Corps had been an administrative entity without troops of its own, and that the troops trapped in Budapest were there merely as a consequence of the Soviet attacks. It is true, however, that the army corps only ‘owned’ the Budapest Guard Battalion and was so short of soldiers that it had to draft, for intelligence duties, some female students of a Transylvanian university who had fled to the capital.

Many of the Hungarian units trapped in Budapest tried to evade the fighting. In reviews of their manpower and arms they concealed their true strength. When drawing their rations through the Hungarian I Army Corps they inflated their numbers, while in communications to the Germans they understated them. On 14 January 1945 the combined combat strength of the 10th Infantry Division and the 12th Reserve Division was reported to the corps as 300, when the 10th Infantry Division alone had at least 3500 soldiers within the cauldron. Normally, the combat strength – which includes all deployable infantry units, but not artillery men, crews of baggage trains, signallers, pioneers or divisional staff – is between 50 and 60 per cent of the ration strength, which comprises all uniformed soldiers. In this instance, however, nobody in the corps command seems to have noticed that the combat strength did not even amount to 10 per cent of the ration strength.

Generally, combat units suffer greater losses than others. In the absence of regular reinforcements they must be replenished from the divisions’ service units. In the German army service, units were regularly combed for this purpose, but among the Hungarians such a procedure was rare. The 10th Infantry Division only managed to scrape together a combat force of 200–300, while the overwhelming majority of its soldiers did not go into battle. This is not surprising, because by that time the Hungarian military command considered it pointless to continue the struggle.

The Hungarian forces defending Budapest on Christmas Day 1944 had a ration strength of 55,100 and a combat strength of 15,050 – somewhat less than the statutory ration strength of two divisions (60,000) and the combat strength of one (15,000). While the 15,050 Hungarian combatants represented 30 per cent of the combined combat forces defending Budapest, their share of artillery equipment was significantly larger, with 60 per cent of the guns belonging to Hungarian units. However, not all took part in the action: the 4/2 Artillery Battery, for example, did not fire a single shot after December, although it had enough ammunition, four guns and a number of artillery observers. In addition, the Hungarians lost their men and equipment faster than the Germans.

The combat value of the Hungarian units in the Budapest cauldron was largely determined by the fact that roughly 50 per cent of the ration strength were not trained for infantry action and 16 per cent were only recruited during the siege. The latter made up 30 per cent of the total Hungarian combat strength, which in turn was only about 30 per cent of the total ration strength. A significant number of units that took no part at all in the action included the KISKA auxiliary security force, numerous police officers and the students of the military institutes, numbering about 17,000. These could have been usefully deployed in action only if they had been equipped with heavy weapons and trained in their use. Even then, however, the majority would probably have stopped fighting at the first opportunity.

KISKA was the successor to the Hungarian National Guard, which had been formed on 25 September 1944 of men who were not eligible for active service and had either volunteered or been conscripted for security and guard duties. They were given food and pay, wore uniforms or civilian clothes with armbands, carried arms requisitioned from civilians and received their orders from the heads of the paramilitary groups or factories and businesses in their districts. On 3 December the Szálasi government had dissolved the organisation because it had been infiltrated by deserters, persecution victims, resistance fighters and other dissidents, and replaced it with KISKA as an integral part of the Honvéd Army, numbering 7000 non-combatants. Generally there was one KISKA battalion in each city district, but universities and other institutions had units of their own. When KISKA also proved unreliable it was dissolved on 6 January 1945.

The police combat groups were similarly made up of original noncombatants. Although at the time of the encirclement their ration strength was 7000 and their official combat strength 1630, their combat value was minimal because of inadequate training and equipment. Their independent operations disintegrated within a few hours with great losses: 50 per cent were killed or badly wounded.

One exception to the rule was the assault artillery. Although its equipment consisted mainly of small arms, it had considerable combat value thanks to its high motivation. In January 1945 it was still being joined by volunteers – young paramilitaries, students from military academies and high schools, and soldiers who had lost their own formations – because it offered better food, more humane treatment and proof of identity in case of police raids. In November 1944, Captain Sándor Hanák recruited an armoured grenadier company of soldiers cut off from other units, and in early December First Lieutenant Tibor Rátz, commander of the I/3 Assault Artillery Battalion, escaped from Pest with his unit to join in the attack of the 10th Assault Artillery Battalion at Baracska because he felt that his assault guns were underemployed.

The regular divisions, on the other hand, comprised many Hungarian soldiers who did not want to fight. A characteristic example is the 1st Armoured Division, which in early December showed a ration strength of 14,000, but reported only 2038 infantry to the Germans. By late December there had been 80 desertions, but no investigations followed.78 The staff and almost 600 reserves of the 10th Infantry Division’s 6th Infantry Regiment (6/I and 6/II Battalions) did not fight at all from 24 December to the end of the siege, and the 10th Reconnaissance Battalion remained a ‘hidden unit’ of whose existence the Germans were never informed. Most units kept two different sets of troop and weaponry accounts. As early as November three colonels and five lieutenant-colonels of the 12th Reserve Division had been discharged or court-martialled, and by the end of December the battalions numbered only 30–40.

Strangely enough, neither the German nor the Hungarian military leaders made any attempt to change this situation and accepted the reports – although they must have known that they were false. Lieutenant József Bíró, a divisional adjutant, writes in his memoirs: ‘The Germans were satisfied with the token actions of our three battalions and even defended the commander of the 18/I Battalion, which had retreated without permission, when Arrow Cross men informed on him’. Many members of the higher military echelons were only carrying out routine administrative duties, being mainly interested in minimising their losses or, to put it more simply, surviving the war.

The German military authorities took every opportunity to blame the Hungarians for the defeats. Their reports suggest that the entire responsibility for the defence of Budapest rested on their own shoulders, and they repeatedly refer to desertions on the Hungarian side, forgetting that the same, albeit to a lesser extent, also applied to Germans. Conversely, several Hungarian officers state in their memoirs that the desertions were due, at least in part, to the arrogance of the Germans, the subordinate position of the Hungarians and the almost complete elimination of the Hungarian command. By the end of December many Hungarian units had been split into companies or even smaller formations and placed under German orders, although in some cases remnants of other units (chiefly the officers) and even civilians had joined German units of their own free will.

Soviet reports about Hungarian desertions also give a false picture, because for political purposes prisoners of war are often presented as if they had voluntarily deserted. Soviet reports about the combat strength of the enemy are equally unreliable. According to documents in Soviet archives, in Pest the defenders lost 35,840 dead, 291 tanks and assault guns, 1419 guns and 222 armoured trucks. In fact the defenders had no such quantities of military hardware in the entire cauldron, and if we add to the alleged dead the 25,000 prisoners taken by the Red Army in Pest alone, these claims prove even less tenable.

The greatest problem faced by the Germans was lack of infantry. Of the four panzer grenadier battalions of the Feldherrnhalle Panzergrenadier Division, one was not in Budapest and the combined combat strength of the other three was barely more than 500; one panzer grenadier battalion of the 13th Panzergrenadier Division had also remained outside the encirclement. The combat value of the German units was uneven. It was highest among soldiers from the Reich serving in units with a long tradition. One such unit was the 13th Panzer Division, more than 20 members of which were awarded the Knight’s Cross and three the Oak Leaf medal. Others were the 8th SS Cavalry Division and the Feldherrnhalle Panzergrenadier Division, which had originally consisted of SA members, although by 1944 it had been all but destroyed three times (first at Stalingrad) and reinforced with new recruits.

The combat value of some 10,000 other troops was impaired by lack of training and equipment, and the unit with the lowest combat value was the 22nd SS Cavalry Division, which consisted of ethnic Germans who could not even speak the language and were the most frequent deserters.

The SS units comprised almost all nationalities – in addition to ethnic Germans, press-ganged French Alsatians, Hungarians, Serbs, Slovaks and Romanians, and Finnish, Flemish, Swedish and Spanish volunteers. The baggage trains of the SS divisions included Russian, Ukrainian, Tartar and other auxiliaries. One artillery battalion of the Galizien-2 SS Division consisted mainly of Ukrainians dressed, for reasons of economy, in Polish uniforms with German insignia. The 22nd SS Cavalry Division was totally demoralised by early November, and the 1st, 6th and 8th SS Police Regiments, recruited in Hungary, were extremely unreliable. Behind the 8th SS Police Regiment at the Solt bridgehead, machine-gun positions were set up with orders to fire on any movement that looked like desertion. During the last days of the siege some of these troops even mutinied against their officers. On the whole, however, the Germans’ morale, as well as their training and equipment, was better than that of the Hungarians.

The ideological war waged on the eastern front sometimes had disastrous consequences for the German soldiers, who resisted to the bitter end not only out of a sense of duty and loyalty but also because they feared the worst from the Soviets. That is why even those German units with a low morale chose to fight rather than surrender. A particularly large number of SS soldiers and Russian and Ukrainian auxiliaries chose suicide rather than capture. Many were seen putting their last sub-machine gun cartridge on one side for that purpose.

Supplies for the troops also created serious problems for the German and Hungarian commands. Budapest was a fortress only on paper, and the stockpiling of food to last several months was never even begun. Many of the existing stocks, including both food and military necessities, were kept in the outer districts of Buda and fell into Soviet hands between 24 and 26 December. After Christmas, Captain Dezsó Németh, quartermaster of the Hungarian I Army Corps, in an act of deliberate sabotage, moved the Hungarian stocks to locations where they could soon be found by the Red Army. When the encirclement was completed the defenders had 450 tonnes of ammunition, 120 cubic metres of fuel and 300,000 ration units – enough for about five days.

The German and Hungarian commands could not even think of feeding the civilian population. The minimum of food and ammunition required by the encircled troops was calculated as 80 tonnes per day. Because of limited airfield capacity, 20 tonnes were to be parachuted in and the rest delivered by Ju-52 air freighters and gliders. Emergency landing zones and parachute dropping points were established at the Racecourse, the north Csepel recreational airfield, the site of today’s People’s Stadium and the Kisrákos drill ground in Pest, and in Tabán Park and Vérmezó Meadow in Buda. The capital’s larger aerodromes had been taken by the Soviets earlier: Budaörs on 25 December, Ferihegy on 27 December and Mátyásföld on 30 December.

The first air delivery arrived on 29 December 1944. It was flown in by the Budapest supply group of the German 4th Air Fleet, which had been set up on the same day under the command of Lieutenant-General Gerhard Conrad. The group had some 200 aircraft of various kinds and flew 61 missions a day on average, of which 49 were successful. Until the capture of the Racecourse in early January there were even some days with up to 93 landings. The greatest losses were suffered by the gliders. 32 of the 73 DFS-230s never reached Budapest, and the remainder either disintegrated on crash-landing or ended up in the wrong place. They were piloted by NSFK (National Socialist Flying Corps) members aged 16–18, most of whom had volunteered out of youthful bravado.

Of the required daily supplies only 47 tonnes on average could be delivered. Although 86 per cent of this was ammunition, the German heavy artillery dropped out of the action in the first week of the siege. As no horse fodder was available, the garrison’s horses (roughly 25,000) became food for humans. In January the Germans were still carefully guarding a dozen pigs – for the city command and its entourage – at the southern edge of Buda Castle. A company sergeant-major of the Hungarian 12th Reserve Division remembers: ‘The most dangerous and most successful undertaking of my life was when one night, to feed my hungry soldiers better, I stole a pig from the Germans with a few of my lads.’ By the end of January all central stores were exhausted, and the only food available was carrots – originally kept as animal feed – and horse meat. However, even these were so scarce that by the last weeks of the siege most of the soldiers were starving.

The total supplies flown in weighed 1975 tonnes, including 417 tonnes delivered by Hungarian pilots. The parachutes carrying ammunition canisters were red, those carrying food canisters white. During the last week of the siege several thousand canisters were dropped under cover of darkness, but only a few reached the troops. Some were blown by air-currents into Soviet-held areas, and the search for the others could not begin until morning, by which time civilians had pilfered the food, despite the threat of capital punishment. The contents of those that were found intact could not be distributed because of a lack of fuel and constant artillery bombardment. Sometimes the canisters carried surprising objects such as Iron Crosses or yellow flags to mark unexploded shells. A Knight’s Cross for Pfeffer-Wildenbruch was dropped three times before it reached him.