Episode IV – Transfer
January 9th, 1936
Öbisfelde Bahnhof, Wolfsburg, Germany
It was already getting dark when the train pulled into the railroad station at Öbisfelde, some 15 kilometres east of Wolfsburg. The stop was only long enough for some papers to be checked and the driver to make a visit to the men’s room at the station. Strangely enough the platform was almost devoid of passengers; as if someone had made en effort to make the train pass through with as little notice as possible. But then again, this particular train was not intended for ordinary passengers.
Most of the men were chatting, playing cards, reading letters from home or trying to catch up on some sleep. The last few days had been hard on all of them.
Unterfeldwebel Ulrich Wetzelberge was looking out the window at the snow falling quietly in the cool evening air. It made him think of childhood winters in Bavaria, skiing with his father and his two older brothers. He smiled to himself, as he remembered how his brothers Karl and Heinrich had always been competing with one another, racing down the mountain side, sometimes hitting a tree or almost running off a cliff. But that was a long time ago.
Heinrich had joined the army in 1928, four years before Ulrich, as a cadet and was now an instructor teaching at the Mountain Warfare School in Bad Reichenhall. Karl had joined the clergy and become a Catholic priest in a small parish. He had seen neither one of them in over a year – his Christmas leave had been cancelled when the 2. Panzer-Division had been put on alert in the middle of December.
But it was not until three days ago that something had actually happened. Their company commander,
Hauptmann Faerber, had ordered them to prepare the 1st company for an immediate transfer – destination unknown. Rumour in the battalion was that they were heading south for some sort of joint exercise with other units of the
Heer.
This morning they had held a parade on the grounds at their barracks in Berlin, the entire 2. Regiment had been lined up and their division commander,
Generalmajor Heinz Guderian, and the commander of the entire I. Panzer Armee,
Generalleutnant Paul Hausser, had been there to inspect them.
2. Regiment of the 2. Panzer-Division on parade
Afterwards the company had proceeded to the nearby railway station and the tanks had been loaded on open railway wagons, secured and covered with heavy-duty tarpaulin. The men of 1st Company had been pleased to see that real passenger cars and not just box wagons had been provided for their use. The officers had their own wagon, while Ulrich and the other
Unteroffiziere had to ride with the men in the back. Not that he minded though. The camaraderie felt between these men was strong – a natural consequence of hard training and the knowledge that they belonged to one of the Reich’s most prestigious formations, the
Panzerwaffe.
He looked around at the men and smiled. Across from him sat Conrad, the driver of his LKA –
Landswerk Krupp A – a light tank with twin MG13 Dreyse machine guns, reading a copy of the
Völkischer Beobachter. He and Conrad had been a team since
Panzertruppenschule in Münster three years ago, where they immediately became good friends. Several times he had accompagnied Conrad on weekend leave to visits to his family in Küstrin and he had come to regard them as his own family.
Sitting around him cramped together in the compardment were the other men of his platoon. There was their platoon leader,
Oberfeldwebel Heinz Baum, a stern disciplinarian of Prussian descent. His driver, Bruno, was busy as usual braggin about his many women to the rookie of the platoon – 17 year old Johann.
Johann’s tank commander was Willi Beck, a carefree young man who could usually be found at the centre of any lively gathering singing and laughing loudly. At the moment, though, he was reading an edition of Faust quietly by the window.
Behind him, the fourth tank commander of the platoon, Sepp Bergmann, was playing cards with some men from 1st platoon. Sepp never missed an opportunity to supplement his meager army wage with some gambling profits.
His driver, Günther, was watching them, rubbing his fingers in an oily rag. Günther was notoriously unkempt for a soldier in the Wehrmacht, always featuring a soiled, oil stained uniform, but Sepp did not care about his behaviour because Günther was nothing less than a mechanical genius – some would say the best in the entire division. Heinz disapproved greatly and just barely tolerated the pair.
The train’s signal whistle blew and with a slow, hissing groan the engines started moving the train once more out of the railway station. Ulrich leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes to try and get some sleep. Wherever they were going, he felt he was going to need it.