Battle of Kursk by Tom Zola

Author:Tom Zola [Zola, Tom]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9783964030252
Publisher: EK-2 Publishing
Published: 2018-10-26T04:00:00+00:00

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The territory to the left and right of the road to Prokhorovka was a wide open space only interrupted by a few groves, and in addition it was rather hilly. Every few hundred yards a farm or a tiny village hugged the road, but there were no more civilians around.

To the right of the road, the III Abteilung tore through the field while the I Abteilung used the road. The Tiger battalion roared ahead, fanned out widely, thus placing itself almost completely in front of the regiment.

Engelmann looked at his map. They were only a few thousand yards away from the southern bank of the Psel River, which flowed around a bend here before it forked off to the north where its source was. Now they came up to a narrow branch of the Donets that was no more than a brook. The panzers of Engelmann’s platoon crossed the water while the Tigers in front of them were already plowing through the next open space over a length of several miles. On the horizon a small village appeared that sat enthroned up on a hill. The road twisted and turned uphill all the way to the buildings. Engelmann looked out of his turret at the area ahead of them and saw the black smoke columns that rose up everywhere in the village and on the surrounding hills. Over there the Luftwaffe had already raged, and now the German artillery was busy producing more matchwood. With every one of Engelmann’s heartbeats, dozens of shells fell on the houses, tore off roofs and churned up the ground. Huge pillars of dirt rained down on the village, but even that couldn’t break the Russian resistance. Their guns, which were positioned everywhere between the buildings and the surrounding hills, were already booming, tickling the Tigers. The latter returned the greetings and silenced several enemy guns with their blasts while the “Ratsch Bumms”, as the Germans called the Russian 76-millimeter divisional guns M1942 (based on the sound they made), blasted at the German steel colossuses from the hinterlands. Engelmann stared at his map and tried to translate the Cyrillic letters into something he could understand.

“That village up there should be Bele … Behlenkin … Belenkino … to hell with it! You know what I mean. Hans, take up position behind the narrow mound 60 yards in front of their positions. Ebbe, let the platoon gather to our left and assume attack position. Be prepared for Russian counter-attacks!”

“Yes sir, the platoon to our left,” Nitz confirmed, and squeezed in behind the radio. Engelmann’s tank moved towards the position he had ordered and stopped there. The Tigers ahead of them also took up their positions. In the meantime the Russian resistance was almost completely extinguished.

Engelmann took a glimpse at his watch. Already past 9 a.m., he groaned silently. Despite the fact that there hadn’t been much enemy fire today, things progressed slower than planned. Still, he intended to reach Prokhorovka before nightfall. Biting his lower lip, he looked ahead.

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