Permanently Operating Factors - A Soviet LAN AAR

12 kilometers west of Grodno
April 3, 1942

Semen Timoshenko leaned over the map table, his eyes tracing the movement of entire armies as they fought their inertia and groaned into motion. The offensive into Lithuania was quite simple; the three Baltic Fronts would crush the region from the north as two Belorussian Fronts swept westward and cut it off. Timoshenko nodded to himself, if it worked correctly it would cut off thirty Anglo-British divisions and they could then be easily destroyed. Even taking the shortening of the frontline into consideration, this was likely a loss that the enemy could not afford and would have difficulty recovering from. Timoshenko scratched his neck before sliding his hand up to rub his chin with a palm. The weather was unseasonably cold, he had taken the reports coming up from Romania as an aberration but in the past two days reports were coming back from the frontlines in Lithuania confirmed that there was a freeze across the entirety of the ground and was slowing operations down.

Timoshenko sighed and grimaced; nothing in war ever went according to forecast—not operational plans and not the weather either. Nevertheless, he had ordered the attacks to commence, it was important to throw the Anglo-German strategy off balance from the very beginning. Intelligence reports all pointed to massive armored formations which would, if used properly, be very hard hitting and could likely rupture the Soviet line. Timoshenko, as the chief of army staff as well as the commander of the 1st Belarussian Front, could not allow that to happen. His career depended upon it, and the survival of the Soviet Union as an independent state.

Thus, the offensive into Lithuania began on the 2nd of April as Lieutenant General Malinovskij’s 3rd Baltic Front attacked from Wilno toward Kaunas with its eighteen frontline divisions. They began pushing forward through the frost and the swamp, opposed by two corps of Anglo-German troops, of which the British were of far inferior quality and were quickly being overwhelmed despite Malinovskij’s inability to command large troops due to his limited staff size.


The attack toward Kaunas has begun.

Realizing that Malinovskij could use some support, however, to limit casualties, Timoshenko ordered Major General Antonov’s 2nd Baltic Front and his own 1st Belarussian Front into the fray, hitting the beleaguered defenders from two more axes. Under such pressure, despite the innate advantages of the defense, the terrain and the weather, the three British divisions quickly began crumbling and the resistance of the German corps began weakening as well. Air support by the sturmovik ground-attack planes was proving itself valuable in levering the defenders out of exposed positions. Timoshenko was confident that the battle was decisively going his way and turned his attention to another battle to the south.


The greater attack upon the Anglo-German positions in front of Kaunas.

To the south, Field Marshal Fedorenko’s 2nd Belarussian Front was beginning to perform its sickle cut toward the Baltic coast by attacking from the region of Bialystok toward Suwalki. It was a situation similar to that at Kaunas; eighteen Soviet divisions attacking against six Anglo-German divisions, evenly split. The British were inferior to both the Germans and the Soviets. Within two hours of the beginning of the battle, Fedorenko launched a furious assault that took the commanding general, a British officer, by surprise and caused him to lose some grip on the battle he was attempting to conduct. As at Kaunas, the British began crumbling quickly. It was only shortly after the assault that the entire Anglo segment of the defensive line was collapsed and its soldiers streaming westward in disarray. The Germans, now alone and terribly outnumbered, quickly began crumbling as well.


The battle of Suwalki, at 0700 and 2300 of the 3rd.

Timoshenko smirked; the British did not worry him at all. Their tactical leadership was poor, their troops poorer and their presence in the theater of war bordering on negligible when it came to efficiency, if not in numbers. When his thoughts turned to the Germans, however, Timoshenko bit his lip lightly. They were fine soldiers, better even than their Soviet counterparts, and well led. Their infantry was performing well and their armored units were supposed to be even better, though they had not yet made an appearance. Timoshenko stared at the map, wondering whether he would succeed in encircling the Anglo-German forces in Lithuania. He was also wondering where the main German blow would fall. It could be anywhere.

BritishImperial: Yep, war's started. On April 1, in fact. It was no joke!

Discomb: Yo

General Jac: We'll see

Edzako: That's the plan

Discomb: Yeah, but you're in a swamp. That'll be my answer to everything because it's a universal truth

First comment day!

And both swamp and me > you!

Second comment day

12 kilometers west of Grodno
April 7, 1942

Timoshenko stared through his binoculars, watching the roiling dust clouds of far off battle. It was only a week into the war and already Timoshenko was beginning to feel some strain of a major wartime command. He had taken to biting his nails unconsciously, a dozen worries seeping into his heart. This despite the victories of past days; the Anglo-German defenders of Kaunas had been routed by the morning of the 3rd, in less than twenty-four hours of battle, and resistance in Suwalki had ceased before sunrise on the 4th, also in just under twenty-four hours of combat. Additionally, the British forces in Memel had advanced northward into the Mazirbe area on the 4th, which had opened up a favorable operational opportunity that Timoshenko had ordered Berzarin to take advantage of. Finally, Japan had declared war on the Anglo-German alliance very early in the morning on the 7th. Since then, however, events may have taken a turn for the worse as the Germans—possibly panicking or possibly following a predetermined strategy that took Soviet aggression into consideration—threw in some of their rumored armored reserves and also launched an attack on Istanbul.

These units rushed to not only plug the massive gap that had developed in their line at Suwalki but to throw the Soviet advance back and advance on Bialystok. As such, five German armored corps—each consisting of two armored and one motorized infantry divisions—under the overall command of Colonel General Brauchitsch appeared in the Suwalki region on the afternoon of the 7th and immediately moved to attack. Fedorenko’s units ran into this unexpected tide and panicked. This infectious anxiety made its way felt all the way up the chain of command to Fedorenko himself and was being reflected in a telephone conversation the two had had just an hour before.


The battle for Bialystok, in which the Soviet defenders were being outclassed.

Fedorenko had pleaded for Timoshenko to throw all available units into Bialystok to hold the town, but Timoshenko had denied him. Instead, Timoshenko had ordered an attack with his own 1st Belarussian and half of the 3rd Belarussian Fronts on Suwalki, his aim being to stop the German advance cold and continue his own planned sickle cut toward the Baltic Sea. This attack threw twenty-seven Soviet divisions against the fifteen distracted German divisions, which were still continuing their attack toward Bialystok. The frost that remained locked onto the ground limited everyone’s war-fighting capabilities but hamstrung the German armor more than the Soviet infantry.


The second battle for Suwalki.

This was what Timoshenko was looking at, at the moment: the joint battles of Bialystok and Suwalki. To his eyes, it certainly appeared to be a vicious fight. He knew, however, that this was only the beginning. He bit his lip, thinking of all the soldiers who were fighting and dying. They were dying for a brighter, redder future, one where socialism triumphs over fascism. He did not doubt that the Germans were fighting for a world that was drab and gray and where they were governed by a brutal police state, but he was confident that this would not come to pass. But the world his soldiers were fighting for was a conditional one; it required victory in war. The battles of Bialystok and Suwalki were bad, he knew, but he also knew that the worst was yet to come.

General Jac: We'll see whether he's unsuccessful or not. As for the German advance, they've actually not advanced that far yet--the only provinces they've taken are Mazirbe, Suwalki, Lomza and Lublin. They're only one province deep in this area so far

Polynike: Welcome aboard! It's always great to have new readAARs along for the ride!

First comment day!

Istanbul
April 8, 1942

Field Marshal Kuznetsov paced along the walls of Istanbul, the walls that by that time only protected its old town. They were the famed triple walls that held off many besiegers in their heyday, including the Turks on numerous occasions before 1453. But now they were not going to prevent the fall of the city, which had an explosive expansion beyond the old confines of the walls. In early 1939 his Caucasus Front had been renamed the Istanbul Front to more accurately represent its geographical area of responsibility. His Front, once one of the most powerful Fronts the Soviet Union had wielded, was now one of its weaker ones. It had not lost any formations, but relative to the European Fronts it had fallen behind. It consisted of the same units that had served it so well during the invasion of Turkey six years previously—twelve mountain rifle divisions and three cavalry divisions. That was all; Kuznetsov had no air support or modern mobile units, though he could call upon Panteleiev’s Black Sea Fleet.

Kuznetsov sighed, took a shot of vodka and looked through his binoculars toward the distant but approaching scenes of battle and ignoring the driving downpour that was managing to begin soaking through his greatcoat. He grinned ruefully; some habits never leave, but only become dormant. Kuznetsov was under a great amount of stress again and thus had taken to the bottle again. The southernmost hinge of the Soviet frontline was Istanbul, and Kuznetsov had to defend it. There was nothing behind him save the Straits and a thousand kilometers of terrain that would hinder any attacker. Kuznetsov knew that he had a lot of space to retreat in to; the chief of the general staff, Alesandr Vasilevskij, had pointed this out to him. Istanbul was not the point of final resistance for Kuznetsov if German push came to headlong Soviet retreat. He had permission straight from the highest echelons to conduct a fighting retreat from Istanbul to the Caucasus and even further back if necessary, but it was stressed that this was not an outcome favored by either STAVKA or Stalin.

Kuznetsov put down his binoculars only long enough to pour himself another shot of vodka and down it quickly, before the rain mixed with the potent drink. STAVKA had outlined the situation to him very clearly, and mentioned that if Istanbul fell the entire Black Sea coastline would become vulnerable for Anglo-German amphibious raiders. Vacietis’ Black Sea Front, once the Persian Front, stood guard from Sevastopol around the Sea of Azov to Novorossisk to defend against such an eventuality, but Vasilevskij had stressed that he fully expected the Germans to penetrate far into the Ukraine and for Vacietis’ Front to be sucked into the fighting. Knowing that the Black Sea Fleet could stand up against neither the German fleet on its own nor the even larger British fleet was simply another reason for Kuznetsov not to allow such a test of insanity to come about. Kuznetsov, however, had come up with a solution—a gamble—that might conceivably prevent the enemy from taking advantage of an open Bosporus.

This was a very important development, as Kuznetsov was commanding a losing battle.

His enemy was Field Marshal Fedor von Bock, an aggressive, highly skilled general. Under his overall command were twenty-one predominantly infantry divisions, though he did have at least one armored corps under his command. They were assaulting Istanbul from three directions—from Kavala, Plovdiv and Varna. Kuznetsov sighed; Istanbul was a defender’s dream if the enemy was attacking from Anatolia, across the Bosporus. It was a defender’s nightmare if the enemy was attacking from the European continent because there were simply so many major roads leading to the city. Kuznetsov had to smirk in ironic despair; all roads led to Rome and Istanbul had once been the Rome of the east, when the Byzantine Empire still existed. This newest assault on this city of a long and unfortunate history began on the 7th, just the day before. The fury of the German attack, however, had quickly begun driving the Soviet defenders back before them.


The initial German attack toward Istanbul, two hours into the battle.

Within twenty-four hours Kuznetsov knew that he was fighting a losing battle. His once coherent defensive lines had deteriorated to the point where some small units, lucky enough to have anchored themselves on the Sea of Marmara, were actually already paddling across to the other side to save themselves from further fighting and carnage. It was once Kuznetsov’s line had begun crumbling that von Bock unleashed his main offensive, a German assault that swept away all units before it, spearheaded by two armored and one motorized infantry divisions that were driving straight toward Istanbul. Kuznetsov’s units had become entirely too worn out and disorganized in a single day of combat and he had begun to wonder how they had ever managed a sustained campaign against the Turks six years ago.


The main German assault on Istanbul, still going on twenty-five hours after the commencement of the battle.

Kuznetsov, fortunately, had considered the possibility of defeat very seriously for he had thought that it would be likely, given the pre-war intelligence estimates of the German forces in the area. Thus, once the German assault began in earnest, he contacted Panteleiev and, using his authority as commander of the key to the Black Sea, ordered Panteleiv to deploy his fleet in the Sea of Marmara. This would serve three purposes that Kuznetsov could numerate to his superiors if required. Firstly, the Black Sea Fleet could cover the withdrawal of the Istanbul Front to the opposing side of the Straits where it could retrench itself and prepare for a new battle. Secondly, but related to the first, it could prevent German forces from crossing as long as they were in the Sea of Marmara, thus giving Kuznetsov time to reorganize at the very least. At best, the fleet might stay on station indefinitely to prevent the Germans from crossing altogether.

This was related to the final reason that Kuznetsov had for exposing his ships in such a fashion; he was pursuing Tirpitz’ Great War maritime strategy of a ‘danger fleet.’ Prior to and during the Great War, Tirpitz had known that his High Seas Fleet could never match the Royal Navy, but he aimed to make his fleet large enough that it could inflict sufficient damage on the Royal Navy to make it vulnerable to the next largest naval power, whether it be France, Russia, the United States or any other. Only the Kaiser had stood in between Tirpitz and the realization of this goal, an ultimately futile stand. Kuznetsov differed from the Kaiser in certain ways, however. Importantly, he had no political prestige attached to the fleet as the Kaiser had—he could spend it however he wished and as long as it was strategically sound STAVKA would approve. This led Kuznetsov to risk Panteleiev’s fleet as the Kaiser had never risked Tirpitz’s fleet, and he was confident that should the Anglo-German navies attempt to force their way through the Straits and into the Black Sea, they would pay a high price for such access.

Kuznetsov poured himself a third shot of vodka and downed it. He was gambling and the stakes were high.

Discomb: Yes

General Jac: He's hoping for a miracle, basically

First comment day!

12 kilometers west of Grodno
April 9, 1942

Timoshenko sat slowly down onto his chair, his body being sapped of its strength as his mind raced to analyze the ever-changing strategic situation. The first week of the war had been calm, but then the tranquility had ended as actions and counteractions began flying thick and fast as both the Germans and the Soviets pursued their strategic objectives. Germany’s was obvious—to create a penetration in the Soviet frontline and turn it into a sustainable breakthrough that would shatter the Soviet front and force a general withdrawal to a safer, if likely not stronger, position. The Soviet objective, as set forth by Vasilevskij and Timoshenko, was to not only prevent this from occurring but also to bring the war to Germany’s own territory. So far, it seemed that the Soviet strategy was working better, but nine days was in truth far too short a time to measure something as long-term as a strategy.

Timoshenko sighed, knowing that the contest was fairly balanced overall. The Soviets held an overall advantage in strategic and operational efficiency, particularly as the communication and coordination between the Germans and British was ineffectual as best, well demonstrated by their debacle at Mazirbe. The Germans, however, had a notable advantage in tactical combat which they certainly had a possibility of turning into operational success if they pursued it aggressively enough. Timoshenko rubbed his temples, grimacing as he did so. The Germans had yet to dedicate their reserve forces to the fight and STAVKA had no real idea where they might fall. Lithuania was unlikely, as the Germans saw the trap Timoshenko and Vasilevskij had planned for them and were pulling out of the region. Belarus was a possibility, but so was the Ukraine, and the majority of the Ukraine was very nice tank country whereas Belarus was full of forests and swamps.

Seeing a glass of water on the table, Timoshenko grasped it and drained it in a few gulps, sighing with relief. He tended to get into the strategic dilemmas a little bit too much, his mind working on even as his body was suffering from a lack of food or water. He had nearly fainted the day before due to not having anything to drink from the moment he had been woken up before the dawn until it was forced upon him as the sun was setting and he had staggered, but not quite collapsed, against a wall. He had been too busy that day overseeing Berzarin’s offensive against von Küchler around Memel and making sure everything was going according to plan, as well as making sure his own battle around Suwalki continued as planned. Which, he grimaced, it had not for a slight while.

At Memel, Berzarin—who had recently been promoted to full Colonel General and his staff increased so that he could better manage battles even if it cost him some efficiency—commanded twenty-one divisions including one of his two mobile corps. His opponent, the formidable Colonel General von Küchler, commanded but a single corps of infantry, as well as a full brigade of artillery. The contest was lopsided as the Germans withdrew from it within an hour of combat. Timoshenko was unsure whether it was the result of Berzarin’s attempts to shatter the German front or a direct order from above to abandon the city, but he did not particularly care at that moment. The minor offensive was necessary at that time for one thing only, which Timoshenko would have readily conceded may or may not be short-sighted, but which certainly would be welcome news to STAVKA.


Berzarin’s attack on von Küchler greatly outnumbered corps around Memel.

It was later that same day, the 8th, as Timoshenko was suffering his slight lapse of consciousness that important news came from the battle around Suwalki. The German armor, half spent, and its accompanying infantry so disorganized as to be helpless observers of the battle and quickly losing strength, attempted a major counterattack against the Soviet forces pushing forward. It had been only hours before that he had received news that the Germans had pulled back from their attack on Bialystok and, further good news, that Kaunas had fallen to the 3rd Baltic Front. Timoshenko had briefly wondered what the German forces whose distraction around Bialystok had disappeared would do, and only hours later he had found out, when they launched their counterattack. Their timing could not have been better, concerning Timoshenko’s brief lapse, but they were far too spent to do much harm anyway. Their own drive had nearly been exhausted and despite their strong counterattack they were quickly pushed back, finally conceding defeat the next morning.


The German counterattack at Suwalki, despite disorganization and casualties.

And finally, the minor offensive Timoshenko had ordered toward Memel paid off. Berzarin’s 13th Mechanized Corps under Lieutenant General S.I. Belov reached Memel several hours after the victory at Suwalki, trapping a British corps under Lieutenant General H.M. Wilson in Mazirbe. The British began a desperate breakout attempt toward the south while Belov simultaneously turned his corps about and drove northward toward Mazirbe. The British, isolated and out of supply, were more hampered by their difficulties than Belov’s mechanized and motorized riflemen were by the mud. Belov’s reports to Berzarin, which were passed on to Timoshenko, promised that the British positions would be wiped out quickly. Reports also came at that time that the Germans and remaining British forces were beginning a general withdrawal from what remained of German Lithuania and toward the East Prussian city of Konigsberg.


Belov’s attack on Mazirbe, which he promised would lead to the crushing of the minor pocket.

Timoshenko sighed, disappointed that the sickle cut had failed. Instead of crushing thirty Anglo-German divisions, it was three British divisions that would be smashed. One corps was broken and fleeing from Memel, the two corps in Siauliau were withdrawing to prevent from being cut off, as were the eighteen divisions around Alytus. Timoshenko shook his head, it was a pity and likely caused by a panic that stemmed from the fall of Memel. Timoshenko frowned, perhaps that was why the Germans had counterattacked, to buy time for their sister units to withdraw out of Lithuania. It was a definite possibility, Timoshenko decided. Now, looking at the map, he was attempting to predict what might happen next…