Chapter 715: Need Rest
On the morning of January 3rd, the German army was holding its main defensive line. In the ruins of Ovruch, grenadiers were firing frantically at the charging Soviet soldiers. The two sides fought repeatedly for every foxhole, every crater left by a shell. Every inch of land seemed to have to be filled with the countless lives of soldiers from both sides.
The Soviet Red Army’s offensive seemed to have lost its edge, because they had run into German soldiers who were determined to defend their positions to the death. Rokossovsky finally knew just how resilient the German soldiers in front of him were, and he also knew what kind of terrifying opponents his predecessors had faced.
“Comrade General! Let me charge one more time! I guarantee I can take the high ground opposite this time!” the bearded division commander of the 2nd Guards Front, the general under Rokossovsky who was best at fighting tough battles, said. At this moment, a bandage was wrapped around his head, and blood could still be seen seeping through it. In the charge just now, his steel helmet had been blown off by shrapnel, and a deep wound had been left on his head.
However, after a simple dressing, he had requested to return to the front line to continue leading his troops in the attack. Unfortunately for him, after hearing his request, Rokossovsky helplessly waved his hand and rejected his suggestion. “I’ve already switched to a different attacking unit. 100 brand-new KV-1 tanks have also been sent to the front. I don’t believe their defense line is made of iron, that we can’t take it down with such a massive force!”
As he spoke, his voice was a little resentful. After the failure of a series of attacks, one can imagine what his mood was like now. He was now locked in a struggle with the enemy commander. He wanted to take the high ground in front of him in the cleanest and most decisive way possible, and then push on to Ovruch, which was behind this high ground and had already been turned into a pile of rubble by artillery fire.
“Attention!” a political commissar shouted, standing in front of a line of Soviet soldiers, raising his pistol-wielding arm. “Comrades! We cannot betray Comrade Stalin’s trust in us! We must fight for the future of our motherland until the very last moment! The great motherland is with us! The great leader, Comrade Stalin, is with us!”
“For the motherland!” everyone shouted in response, gripping the rifles in their hands.
“Attack! Let the damn Krauts see what we Soviets are made of!” the regimental commander gave the order to attack. He led the way towards the direction of the intense gunfire. Behind him, a full 1,000 soldiers, holding their weapons, began to march, launching a new round of attacks in the deep snow.
Every time they attacked a German position, the Soviets would throw a full regiment of soldiers into the breach. 1,000 men would go up to attack, and perhaps not even 200 would be left when they came down. But a new 1,000 men would be pushed onto the battlefield. It seemed as if this kind of battle would never end.
This time, the Germans did not just take the beating passively. More than 20 Panther tanks charged out from concealed shelters. These tanks caused a great deal of trouble for the attacking Red Army. At least a large number of the KV-1 tanks that participated in the attack were turned into wrecks, burning on the battlefield where tracer rounds were constantly flying past.
In front of the position was a minefield laid by the German army. The German soldiers had hastily laid a full 20,000 mines the night before. Now, there were very few mines left in this minefield. The Red Army had used artillery for a rough mine-clearing operation, and then relied on soldiers to step on the remaining ones one by one, turning a minefield into a clean, passable area.
The white snow could no longer be seen in this area. The ground was either covered in cold, coagulated bloodstains or black, muddy earth that had been trampled countless times. The rest of the area was a boundless sea of corpses, German corpses, and Soviet corpses.
The German army’s mortars had become the most reliable offensive weapon the infantry could rely on. At least after the heavy artillery barrage of the Red Army, these small, mobile fire support weapons could provide fire support and inflict very considerable personnel casualties on the enemy. Coupled with the elusive light machine guns of the German grenadiers, the Soviets paid a heavy price in front of the German positions.
Amidst Rokossovsky’s roars, the Soviet soldiers finally managed to storm the main outer defensive position of the Germans at around 4 o’clock that afternoon. Although they did not find the German frontline commander there, they did find a half-burned regimental flag and a divisional battle standard that was two-thirds burned. This marked the annihilation of the second German division as a formed unit by the Soviets. At the same time, all the German obstacles on the outskirts of Ovruch had been removed by the Soviets.
The Soviets began to attack the city that night but found that it was simply a killing field carefully constructed by the Germans. The streets and buildings, which had already become ruins, became excellent hiding places for the German army, and the bullets that swept over from all directions mercilessly reaped the lives of the Soviet soldiers.
The two sides fought from eight o’t clock in the evening until the early morning of the next day. The German army still controlled more than half of the city blocks, and the Soviets were simply unable to break through this pile of rubble. The German army had already lost a full 20,000 men here, and one can imagine how huge the price the Red Army had paid. The two infantry corps responsible for the general offensive had basically been wiped out, and Rokossovsky had still not been able to capture this city called Ovruch on time.
In stark contrast to the Soviet attack in the north was the German Army Group G, which was responsible for the main offensive. Guderian’s troops had also reached their designated position on January 3rd. Compared to Rokossovsky’s difficulties, his troops, although they had suffered considerable losses, were not so great. Moreover, Army Group G had also captured a full 150,000 Soviet soldiers and had completely cleared the outskirts of Shebelynka in front of them.
Under Guderian’s orders, the German army had also begun a city assault on the same day. However, the Soviet Red Army’s defensive strength near Shebelynka was clearly no match for the combat capability of the German Army Group E. Although they had also put up a stubborn resistance and fought very bravely, in the end, that afternoon, they were driven out of Shebelynka, losing this southern gate to Kharkov.
As for how stubbornly this unit had fought, Guderian praised this Soviet unit in a private letter to Brauchitsch. One division of the Soviet Red Army had held out in the center of Shebelynka until they had run out of ammunition and food, and still refused to surrender. In the end, they had set fire to the central building of the city and had died a heroic death with their weapons.
Another unit had also resisted stubbornly until that afternoon. This unit, without any anti-tank weapons, had held its position until the last moment. This Soviet infantry regiment, with its commander killed in action, had fought to the last man and still refused to surrender. Compared to their comrades in the city who had routed and been captured, they could be said to be the epitome of the Red Army’s bravery in combat.
Guderian finally stood at the gates of Kharkov, and also on the edge of the trap that Zhukov had dug for him. At this moment, he was in the newly captured city of Shebelynka, in a civilian house that had been occupied and cleaned by the Wehrmacht, spreading out the operational map in his hand.
He looked at Kharkov, which was right at his fingertips, then looked up at his chief of staff, as well as the commander of the 1st Panzer Division and the commander of the 3rd SS Panzer Division, Freericks, who had come to the army group headquarters as guests, and broke into a smile. He pressed his hand on the map, on top of the city of Kharkov, and looked at these subordinates of his.
“General Guderian, my division needs to rest and refit. After all, the continuous combat has exhausted them,” Freericks was the first to speak up and complain. It was true that his panzer division had been at the forefront all along, but to say they needed to rest was a blatant lie. He had followed Guderian in campaigns south and north, and at the very least, during the Battle of France, they had needed to rest more than now. At that time, he had never made such a request.
On the other side, the commander of the 1st Panzer Division also began to pour dirty water on himself. “My unit has suffered considerable losses, and the ammunition consumption is also very huge. And… they also lack rest and cannot attack immediately.”
Since Guderian’s promotion to commander of Army Group G, the commander of the 1st Panzer Corps had become General Hoth, one of the first generals to follow Akado. This division commander from the early days of the Wehrmacht had finally accumulated enough seniority to become the commander of the empire’s most elite armored unit. He stood to one side, watching the two panzer division commanders under his command complain, without saying a word. As a typical Prussian military man, he only obeyed orders but did not like to speak—even if the order was wrong.
In fact, the reason the armored commanders were so evasive was mainly because they were worried that their units would suffer heavy losses in street fighting, so they had come up with various excuses. They didn’t need a rest; they just didn’t want to enter this ominous city of Kharkov. Many of the grassroots commanders could see that this city was full of danger, so they would rather complain and play cute than be the first to be sent to launch an attack.
Guderian had once said, “Don’t believe your soldiers when they tell you they have no fuel, because once they need a rest, they will have no fuel!” Now he naturally knew what his subordinates were talking about, so he laughed heartily.
“Hahaha!” After laughing for a few moments, he looked at his subordinates again. Then he slowly spoke, as if deliberately, with a hint of teasing, “So many units need a rest, but I still have many combat missions to assign. There must be a unit to take on the task of continuing the attack first, right?”
His words plunged everyone into a deep fear. It seemed that this time, Army Group G had no choice but to enter this city full of nails, Kharkov. Just as everyone was in a dilemma, they heard Guderian continue, “I thought everyone would be scrambling to complete the new offensive. It seems that everyone really does need a rest.”
Published: 2025-09-21T03:28:40.000+00:00
Last Edited: 2026-03-06T18:18:04.000+00:00
URL: https://www.patreon.com/caleredhair/posts/mtr-c715-need-139373074
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