Stalingrad Private Footage Pt 2 + 71st Infantry Div 22.6.1941 Pt 2, Army Group South, War in Ukraine

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In part 2 we are embedded with our author Heinze’s unit as they cross the Soviet border and engage the enemy for the first time. Heinze would go on to earn the Iron Cross second class and would be awarded the Wound Badge. As we showed the entire front for June 21 in part 1 of this series, here we’ll show the positioning of all 3 Army Groups for June 22, the day that Barbarossa kicked off.

The 71st ID spent the Winter of 1940/41 training at the Königsbrück facility in Saxony, Germany. In March of 1941 it was moved to the Gouvernement region of occupied Poland which is where the 194. IR, Heinz’s regiment, was incorporated. There the division secured a length of 25 KM between the Russian and German zones of interest defined in the Molotov-Ribbentrop non-aggressions pact. For the following three months, during extensive training exercises, the division became accustomed to operating with the harsh road and weather conditions specific to the East.

It wouldn’t be until May that the division’s leadership would be informed about the coming campaign against the Soviet Union. For the next month the division reconnoitered the border area, improved the roads leading up to it, and set up communications networks the task which Heinz was primarily involved with. In the background the leadership was also quietly preparing the orders of attack for each of the divisions 3 IRs.

Sunday, 22.6.41
At 3.00 we wake up and begin to march In single file through the woods. The only sounds come from the sticks breaking beneath our boots and the soft metal on metal clinking of our weapons and equipment. Arriving to a staked border marker we begin to traverse along a barbed wire dividing fence. Eventually we reach an opening where one of our pioneers has cut through the barbed wire and we’re able to wriggle through. Heavy underbrush blocks the way and forces us to scamper forwards all fours. We reach a clearing which opens up to a panoramic view of a rural, somewhat hilly landscape. Behind that we see a town that a train is currently departing from. On the horizon the sun is beginning to rise; it’s a peaceful scene without a single person in sight.

Along with the usual equipment, rifle, gas mask ammunition etc, strapped to my back is a 50lb radio-set. It’s a cumbersome load. The ground is wet and soft and our boots sink into the mud with every step which makes moving forwards all the more difficult. We pass an excavated line of trenches that’s filled with stagnant water. Our attention suddenly turns a large group of Russian soldiers who appear walking towards us with their arms in the air; not a shot’s been fired. They’re wearing dirty, olive colored uniforms and some have their feet wrapped in layers of tattered rags. When they see that we are no threat, they smile and pass us moving on towards the border to surrender. For them the war is already over; for us it is only just beginning.

We make our way over the trenches and through hedges. Climbing over the numerous obstacles is difficult under my heavy load. Since the radioman needs to keep up with the commander I do the best I can. Suddenly loud sounds of combat ring out and we take cover in a corn field. In the distance we see that the gun fire is coming out of a farm house which is then immediately fired on by a German anti-tank gun. The house’s straw roof catches fire. Slowly advancing through the tall corn stocks we are unable to actually see the enemy. Tentatively we peek down a path that has been cut through the corn field and see a Russian soldier about 50m away. We jump back hoping to avoid being seen.

Evidently spotted, a few seconds later heavy gunfire rings out and cuts through the corn stalks around us. About 5 m from me our messenger falls to the ground, shot dead. He was probably about 18 years old. Judging by the direction of the gunfire all around us we realize that we’ve advanced farther than we should have. As we try to carefully make our way back, friendly fire opens up on us from behind. The commander uses a signal flare to identify us as friendlies and that gunfire stops. We get to an embankment, crouched down and protected I’m finally able to rest. The firefight, now in front of us, dies down as the Russians begin to pull out. We retrace our steps moving forwards and reach the outskirts of the town. Individual terrified civilians begin to come out walking towards in a daze. In the corn field, on the ground, lies an old man trying to help to his wife who has been shot in the back. Bleeding profusely and no longer moving there is nothing that can be done for her. A medic tends to the old man.