SS Charlemagne: The 33rd Waffen-Grenadier Division of the SS

News was received of the outside. The Wenck Army, which was trying to reach the capital, had reached the outskirts of Potsdam. On the other hand, the Reds had launched their big offensive across the Oder that we had been expecting for weeks and had already reached Prenzlau, which, until recently, had been the seat of the OKH. Those of our comrades that had remained in Neustrelitz while waiting to join us in Berlin would now be engaged in battle. In any case, even if the Wenck Army succeeded in getting through to us, our comrades would not be able to rejoin us.

The day was over, and as the Division feared night infiltrations by the Reds, the battalion was tasked with setting up sentry posts. That night two anti-tank commandos set off for Belle-Alliance-Platz (now Mehringplatz). The first was led by von Wallenrodt, the second by Staff-Sergeant Hennecart. Hennecart was the man who would walk through a hail of shells and bullets with his hands in his pockets and, whenever cautioned, would answer: ‘I am already too old to make a corpse.’ At 38 years old he was in our eyes an old man, almost ancestral, and the men venerated him. He should have received the epaulets of a second-lieutenant a long time ago, having earned them a hundred times, and should have figured on the 20th April (Hitler’s birthday) promotions list. But where was it?

Time passed, but no one came back. The Division was still asking for reinforcements for its sector and, if this went on, all the battalion would soon be engaged. Douroux led me hobbling over the rubble and I do not know what ruined monument to Stadtmitte U-Bahn Station, where the general briefed me in detail on the situation. The whole battalion was to be engaged together at Belle-Alliance-Platz to prevent access by the Red tanks and infantry to the Reichs Chancellery via Wilhelmstrasse and Friedrichstrasse. I got up to go. ‘Where are you going?’ asked the general. ‘To get the rest of the battalion going. We should be gone in ten minutes.’

‘Don’t leave here, you can’t even stand! Issue your orders and remain at rest here in the command post.’

‘General, it is impossible for me to remain here when all my men are in action!’

‘I find it above all impossible that you should not obey my orders,’ replied the general. ‘Don’t insist!’

Time passed slowly in this wretched underground. The Reds did not forget us, for a shell landed on the access staircase killing or wounding fifteen men. The battle continued to rage all day long and one no longer paid attention to it.