"No, a shell splinter got him in the back—but many of the SS-men did commit suicide, though hardly any of the others.
"Altogether, the Germans lost over 70,000 of their best troops in their attempt to hold the Korsun salient, 55,000 dead and 18,000 prisoners."
"What had they done with their wounded? Is it true that they killed them off?"
"Yes. And that no doubt contributed to the hysteria that marked their last night at Shanderovka. The order to kill the wounded was strictly carried out. They not only shot hundreds of them—shot them as they usually shoot Russians and Jews, through the back of the head, but in many cases they set fire to the ambulance vans, with the dead inside.
One of the oddest sights were the charred skeletons in those burned-out vans with wide bracelets of plaster-of-Paris round their arms or legs. For plaster-of-Paris doesn't burn...
"The Korsun debacle prepared the ground for our present spring offensive. It was psychologically immensely important. To some extent the Germans had forgotten
Stalingrad; at any rate, the effect of Stalingrad had partly worn off. It was important to remind them. It's going to heighten enormously their fear of encirclement in future."
I find it hard to say whether Kampov's figures are any more correct than post-war
Russian or German figures; and whether it is true, as appears from his account, that no Germans broke out at all; probably some did—particularly the generals. Or perhaps they left by air a few days before. But, unlike the dull "technical" tone of most of the post-war military literature, Kampov's account—even allowing for a little romancing, especially about the cavalry—seems to give a striking and truthful picture of both the hysterical and desperate mood of the hardened Nazi troops as they found themselves trapped, and of a real ruthlessness—"no time to take prisoners"—among the Russian troops at the end of a fortnight's extremely costly fighting against both sides of the "ring".
The Ukrainian mud in spring has to be seen to be believed. The whole country is
swamped, and the roads are like rivers of mud, often two feet deep, with deep holes to add to the difficulty of driving any kind of vehicle, except a Russian T-34 tank. Most of the German tanks could not cope with it.
General Hube's 8th Army, having failed to break through to the Korsun bag, and having suffered very heavy losses in the process, decided, in spite of it all, to hold its part of the line running from Kirovograd in the south to Vinnitsa in the north, namely the line south of the Korsun "bag", now in Russian hands, and some forty miles north of the town of Uman. The Germans assumed that while the
continued, there was nothing to fear, and, mobilising thousands of Ukrainian civilians, they were busy fortifying their new line north of Uman.
It was on March 5, with the mud and "roadlessness" at their worst, that Konev started his fantastic "Blitzkrieg through the Mud". It started with a gigantic artillery barrage against the German lines; within six days, the Germans were driven forty miles back, and chased out of Uman. The mud was such that they abandoned hundreds of tanks and trucks and
guns, and fled—mostly on foot— to Uman and beyond. At one railway station the
Russians captured a newly-arrived train with 240 brand-new tanks. Usually, however, the Germans burned or blew up both lorries and tanks.
Although Russian tanks were able to advance through the mud, the artillery lagged
behind; and it was very often a case of Russian infantry, sometimes supported by tanks, but sometimes not, pursuing German infantry. Konev's Mud Offensive was "against all the rules", and the Germans had certainly not expected it. The Russian infantry and tanks rapidly advancing to the Bug and beyond—and, before long, towards Rumania—were
being supplied with food, munitions and petrol by a large number of Russian planes.
These also did some strafing of German troops, and would have done more but for the
weather. The only vehicles, apart from T-34 tanks, that advanced fairly successfully through the mud were the Studebaker trucks, for which the Russian soldiers were full of praise.
Very striking, as I was to discover in the next few days, was the high morale of the Russians and the poor morale of the Germans, who had been unnerved by the Korsun
disaster, by the suddenness of Konev's March 5 offensive and by the loss of practically all then-heavy equipment.