For a week Berlin radio jittered with its strongest superlatives. “One of the war’s bloodiest struggles,” “mammoth offensive,” “grand assault,” “unheard-of numerical superiority,” “monstrous force.”
For six days Moscow was officially silent, permitted correspondents to cable that “when the news is finally released it is expected to be … sensational. . . .” But it was clear that three years and four months after Germany had invaded Russia, the Russians had invaded Germany. The battle for East Prussia — Germany’s “bowels of iron and heart of steel” — had begun.
So far, history was repeating itself. Thirty years before, the Russians had driven into the bleak, lake-studded land of many a Junker overlord and his cannon-fodder peasant. In August 1914, General Paul Rennenkampf’s Russian army attacked from the east, General Alexander Samsonov from the south. The Germans were routed in the first battle.
Dividing Point. In 1944 the Red Army confidently expected no further repetitions of World War I’s East Prussian history. In 1914 the team of Field Marshal Paul von Hindenburg, his brilliant chief of staff General Erich Ludendorff and chief of operations General Max Hoffmann had gone to the rescue of the Reich’s defeated army, and made Hindenburg an immortal among Junkers. Among East Prussia’s lakes Hindenburg trapped the Russians, cut them to pieces.
Joseph Stalin’s armies would meet no such fate. Besides their overwhelming numerical superiority, they were also well supplied, competently commanded.
In 1914 supply was chaotic, soldiers were exhausted from long marches, liaison was fantastically bad, command corrupt and inept. At the Masurian Lakes one Russian commander deployed his corps by plain-language radio orders, stupidly tipped off the Germans.
This time the Russian Army waited two months at East Prussia’s frontier, reorganizing and piling up supplies. When the attack began on Oct. 16, a frightened Berlin reported: “No battle in the east has ever seen such concentration of Russian air forces and seasoned campaigners can not recall a similar surfeit of Russian artillery and tanks.”
As in 1914, the Russians struck first with an army group from the east, on a line north of the Masurian Lakes. The honor went to the Third White Russian Army group, commanded by 37-year-old tank expert General Ivan D. Chernyakhovsky. The Third drove in from the east on a 25-mile front along the Kaunas-Insterburg Railroad. Then the Second White Russian Army group under Colonel General Georgi F. Zakharov struck from the Narew River in the south and the First Baltic Army group of Armenian General Ivan K. Bagramian pushed in from the north near Tilsit. In 1914 the Russians had thrown 25 divisions into East Prussia. Now the Red Army strength, by the best guesses, was estimated at more than double that number.
Head-On for Königsberg. Last week there was little news of the attacks from the north and the south. But by Berlin’s own admission Chernyakhovsky’s armor, smashing head-on toward Insterburg and Königsberg. the capital, was making progress. With what Berlin called fighting “at white heat” the attack from the east swept over the border town of Eydtkau.
Beyond was the first big town in East Prussia, Gumbinnen, scene of the first World War I battle between Germans and Russians. Chernyakhovsky’s left wing skirted the Rominter Heide, a deer forest once held sacred to Kaiser Wilhelm’s royal hunting, captured Goldap 18 miles inside Germany.
Seven days after the offensive began, Stalin broke his silence, announced that the Red Army had reached 19 miles into East Prussia on an 88-mile front.
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