Sven Hassel - S.S. General

S.S. GENERAL

by Sven Hassel

S.S. GENERAL A Bantam Book/ published December 1972

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Copyright (c) 1972 by BantamBooks, Inc.

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library of Congress Cataloging inPublication Data

Hassel, Sven, 1917-

S.S. GENERAL

1. WorldWar, 1939-194S-Fiction. I. Title.

   [PZ4.H355Sac] [PT8175.H3536] 839.81374 72-8836

Published simultaneously in theUnited States and Canada

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PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OFAMERICA

CONTENTS

Prologue 1

1 The Bridge

2 Journey by Sled 27

3 Portas Breakfast 42

4 The Battle of Krasny Oktyabr 61

The Young Lieutenant

6 Farewell to theColonel 99

7 Summary Executions

8 Generals We HaveKnown

9 Traitors

10 GeneralsCakewalk

11 Christmas on theSteppe

12 Retreat

13 Dinner and Dancewith the Kalmucks

14 Prisoners of theNKVD

5 Backin German Lines

16 The Train

17 Executions

Prologue

Germany has had the goodfortune to find a leader capable of bringing together the forces ofthe entire country to work as a collective body for the commonprosperity.

Daily Mail, London,October 10, 1933

Sunday June 30, 1934,was one of the hottest days Berlin had ever known, but it has gonedown in history as one of the bloodiest. Long before sunrise on thatday, the city had been surrounded by an unbroken cordon of troops.All roads leading in and out were closed, guarded by the men whoserved under General Goering and Reichsfuhrer SS Himmler.

At five oclock on themorning of June 30, a large black Mercedes, with the inscription SA Brigadenstandarte on the windshield,was stopped on the road between Lubeck and Berlin. Its important occupant, a brigadier general, was orderedout at gun-point and thrown into the back of a police wagon. Thedriver, SA Truppenfuhrer Horst Ackermann , was bluntly advised to movehimself, which he did at top speed. He regained Lubeck and madehis report to the chief of police, who at first refused to attach anycredence whatsoever to the story. Upon the Truppenfuhrers insisting,the man could think of nothing more constructive to do than pick upthe telephone and seek help and advice from his old friend the headof the Criminal Police. Both of them had been members of the SA, theold guard of the National Socialist assault troops, but the previousyear, along with all the other police officers in the Third Reich,they had been transferred to the SS.

Well, what do youthink?

There was an uneasysilence from the telephone.

The chief of policetried a new tack. Grunert ? Areyou still there? Its hardly likely theyd dare lay hands on one ofthe SAs best-known officers, is it?

Another silence.

Is it? herepeated nervously.

This time there was acynical laugh from the other end of the line.

You think not? Inthat case, I suggest you leave the telephone a moment and take aquick look through the window yourebehind the times, my friend! Ive known this was coming for the pastfew months and more. All the signs were there, for anyone who kepttheir eyes and ears open Eickes been far too active for far too long, something had to break. Notonly that, they cleared the camp at Borgemoor a while ago, and youre not trying to tell me theyd let a place likethat stay empty for very long? Not on your life! Its been taken overby Eickes SS boys and theyre already prepared for full-scale murderdown there.

The brigadier general,Paul Hatzke, found himself shut up in a cell at the former cadettraining school of Gross Lichterfeld, now used as a barracks forAdolf Hitlers personal troops. He sat on a pile of bricks and calmlysmoked a cigarette, his legs in their long black cavalry bootsstretched out before him, his back against the wall. He was put outat his unceremonious treatment, but he saw no reason to fear for hissafety. He was, after all, a brigadier general and commanded fiftythousand troops of the SA. He was also an ex-captain of His Majestythe Emperors own household brigade. He was far too prominent a manfor anyone to touch.

Outside the tranquility of his cell, the world seemed to be in temporary uproar. Men shouted,doors banged, footsteps thudded impatiently along passages and up anddown staircases. The SS men who had arrested the brigadier generalhad muttered something about a revolt.

Nonsense! No suchthing! Hatzke had dismissed it impatiently. Any talk of arevolt and I should most certainly have had word of it. Its all aridiculous mistake.

Of course, ofcourse, they had murmured soothingly. Thats all it isaridiculous mistake.

Hatzke tore open hisfourth pack of cigarettes and raised his eyes to the small barredwindow high up in the wall.

A revolt! Arrantnonsense! He smiled to himself. All other considerations apart, theSA didnt possess sufficient arms to attempt a revolt. On this pointat least he was well briefed.

On the other hand,looking back to the 1933 revolution, it was only to be expected thatthe two million members of the SA should not be altogether satisfiedwith the treatment they had received. Not one of the prerevolutionpromises made to them had been kept; not even the most basic promiseto find them work. Some, indeed, had been given jobs in the policeforce, but their ranks were inferior and their wages were lower thanthe unemployment benefit paid in the days of the Weimar Republic. Butwhile it was certainly true that the men were disgruntled and bitter,from that to an open declaration of war was something else again.Especially war against the Fuhrer. Ifthe SA were ever to rise up, it would sooner be against the Army ofthe Reich, the number one enemy of the workers.

Hatzke suddenly stubbedout his cigarette and held his head to one side, listening. Was thatthe sound of gunfire he had just heard? A truck started up somewhereoutside, its engine coughing; a motorcycle screamed past; a carbackfired or was it a rifle shot? He could not be sure, butthe idea unnerved him. Gunfire in Berlin on this hot summers day? Itmade no sense. Men were going on leave, preparing to meet theirgirls, lying in the sun

The palms of Hatzkeshands grew damp. He clenched his fists. This time there could be nomistake. He could not indefinitely pretend that the sharp crack ofrifles was the backfiring of a car. And there it went againandagain. Outside, the truck was still trying to pull away. It had beenjoined now by a recalcitrant motorcycle. The thought crossed Hatzkesmind that they could have been planted there deliberately, in anattempt to mask the sounds of gunfire; a shudder of anticipationshook his body. What was Himmlers band of thugs up to this time? Youcouldnt shoot men on mere suspicion. Not in Germany. Among thesavages of South America, perhaps, one might expect that sort ofbrutality. But not even among the barbaric Russiansandcertainly not in Germany.

Another salvo of shots.Hatzke leaped to his feet, his upper lip awash with perspiration.What the devil was going on out there? They surely werent conductingexercises in this weather?

He took an agitated turnabout his cell. Could there afterall be some truth in this absurd story of an SA up-rising? But God inheaven, that was sheer madness!

He tried to arrange hispile of bricks so that he could stand on them and see through thewindow, but there were not enough for a double row and they collapsedas soon as he put his foot on them.