“Fortress Stalingrad” had a grandiose sound to it, but the title was deceiving.  German General Friedrich Paulus knew that his 6th Army was in serious trouble.  What a difference 5 days made!  Back then he believed his Soviet enemies had their backs against the proverbial wall and that Stalingrad was nearly his.

But a massive Soviet counterattack was rapidly changing the situation.  Launched in the dim morning hours of November 19th, Operation Uranus crashed into the weakened German flanks with devastating effect.  By the end of that first day, the Romanians (manning the flanks) had suffered more than 55,000 casualties.  The next day saw the 1st Romanian Armoured Division eliminated and the 22nd Panzer Army badly mauled.

The flanks largely collapsed, leaving the Soviets only modest resistance on their path to encirclement.  Paulus, seeing a horrific disaster unfolding to his back (the west), released his own 3 Panzer divisions, but a lack of fuel and ammunition – keep in mind that supply lines, which were incredibly long, came from the west – made their efforts much less effective.

On November 23, 1942, Paulus’ nightmare became reality when Soviet forces, which had stepped off from both north and south of the city, met up at Sovietskiy, 30 miles west of Stalingrad.  The encirclement, although tenuous, was complete.  What was left of the Romanian Third Army (more than 25,000 men) was forced to surrender…the Romanians suffered nearly 90,000 total casualties in four days of brutal fighting.

Inside the pocket lay Stalingrad, General Paulus, and his forces.  They comprised remnants of the Romanian Fourth Army, the Fourth Panzer, and (of course) the German Sixth Army…nearly 270,000 men.  It was at this point that Paulus stood his best chance of escape from his “trap on the Volga”.  Soviet forces had yet to consolidate their positions, Field Marshal Erich von Manstein was pushing to reinforce the destroyed flanks, and Paulus still commanded a formidable force with substantial artillery.  A breakout, while not anything close to victory, would have prevented certain destruction.

But it was at this point that the German High Command did itself in.  Hermann Goering foolishly boasted that his Luftwaffe could keep Fortress Stalingrad supplied from the air…even though Wolfram von Richthofen’s 4th Air Fleet only had half the aircraft it needed.  And Adolf Hitler, blinded to all reality but the now vanishing hope of capturing Stalingrad, bought Goering’s plan and ordered Paulus to hold his ground.  One can almost hear Goering’s arrogant assurance and the remaining Generals giving each other those fleeting glances of dismay.

However, in speaking of the German failures, one should not minimize Soviet Marshal Georgy Zhukov’s genius in launching Uranus.  I’ve mentioned Chris Bellamy’s book Absolute War on several occasions, and he is effusive in his praise…and rightly so.

He writes, “Along with the Carthaginians’ encirclement and annihilation of the Romans at Cannae in 216 BC, Zhukov’s destruction of the Japanese at Khalkin Gol in 1939, and Schwarzkopf’s Hail Mary of 1991, it was from a purely military point of view one of the greatest encirclements of history.  But its staggering scale, in spatial and human terms, especially given the very thin margins available to the Soviet High Command, and its strategic and political consequences must make it the greatest encirclement of all time.”

Experts may argue over the “greatest”, but the Soviet linkup at Sovietskiy set in motion the most significant defeat in the 4-year Russo-German war…probably the biggest defeat for Germany in the entire war.

Case Blue, launched in late June of 1942, got off to a smashing start for both the Soviets and the German aggressors…sort of.  The Red Army got smashed a lot, and the Wehrmacht did a lot of smashing.

By mid-August, the Germans were knocking on the doors of Stalingrad, having reached the Volga River north of the city.  The Soviet armies, having spent a couple of months retreating to avoid the dreaded encirclement, now had their backs to a river a mile wide.

At this point, the fighting degenerated into a meat-grinder house-to-house battle.  General Friedrich Paulus’ 6th Army drove into, and largely through, the city, with elements reaching the Volga to fire at the forces staged on the far side.  But Paulus and his men, while fully ensconced in the city, could not break through.

As the August heat gave way to the inevitable October cooldown, Soviet Marshal Georgy Zhukov began preparing a massive counterattack.  Codenamed Operation Uranus, it involved a double encirclement, with large forces attacking across the Volga to both the south and north of Stalingrad.

The ultimate goal was to drive through the German flanks (protected by 170,000 Romanian troops) and trap the German 6th Army in the city.  But it was a massive undertaking to move the requisite men and supplies into place while still maintaining some form of secrecy.

General Paulus recognized that his flanks were weak and over-exposed and, on November 17, 1942, German reconnassaince discovered what appeared to be a Soviet buildup northwest of the city.  But still his troops were slashing the remnants of decimated Soviet 62nd Army.  The German press said that the battle for Stalingrad was in its final phase…

…until November 19, 1942.  At 7:30am, Uranus was launched with a massive artillery barrage.  More than a million men, nearly 1,500 tanks, and 900 aircraft crashed into Paulus’ Romanian flanks.  The Romanians put up a valiant effort, but were simply overwhelmed.

Zhukov’s Operation Uranus was a brilliant counterstroke, catching an over-extended army trapped in the rubble of a city.  What’s more, Paulus’ Sixth Army wasn’t allowed to retreat from their positions, forced to hold Stalingrad by Hitler, who had become obsessed with the river-side city.  In less than a week, the German Army would go from “the verge of victory” to trapped.

Recommended Reading: Absolute War

Sixty-seven years ago, the newly formed 312th Bomb Group was stationed at Hunter Field in Georgia. Hunter Field was a new Army post with comfortable barracks, a chapel, tennis courts, baseball diamonds, and clubs for the enlisted men and officers. In the relative comfort of this base, the 312th men learned what they needed to do to function as a bomb group. Everybody from maintenance to the parachute department was kept busy fine-tuning their various skills.

An aerial view of Hunter Field in January 1943.

The Group started training on the Vultee A-35 Vengeance dive-bomber, a very troublesome aircraft for pilots and mechanics alike. The A-35 was a single-engine plane that held a pilot and rear gunner, six .50-caliber wing-mounted machine guns and a single .50-caliber machine gun in the rear. It could carry a bomb load of up to 2000 pounds, but the aiming system was terrible and caused the crews to miss their targets by as much as 100 yards.

The A-35 Vengeance dive-bomber: a troublesome but easy-to-fly aircraft.

When pilots went to land their planes, they hoped that the landing gear wouldn’t collapse on them because it was so poorly designed. As problematic as the plane was, it was easy to fly and fairly stable. The maintenance crews also benefited from the challenges of this aircraft by gaining substantial experience dealing with all the problems. The men worked on and soon perfected their navigation skills and flying in formation.

The 312th BG flew the A-35s until they received the A-36 Apache dive-bomber in late November. This plane was a version of the P-51 Mustang with lattice-type dive brakes in the wings and would not exceed 300mph with the dive brakes extended in a vertical dive. Unlike the A-35, pilots actually enjoyed flying this aircraft. Not long after they started training on these planes, the 311th Bomb Group took them to India. The 312th then flew the Douglas A-24 Dauntless dive-bomber, a slower plane that allowed the crews to train for providing closer support to Army ground forces.

(Left) The A-36 was used by the 312th for a short time. (Right) Once the 311th Bomb Group was sent to India, the 312th started flying the A-24.

November 23, 1943 was a tragic day for the Group. While returning to Hunter Field from Little Rock, Arkansas, two members of the 388th Squadron, 1/Lt. Reynolds H. Middleton and M/Sgt. David L. Dean, crashed near Macon, Georgia when they flew into a severe thunderstorm. They were the Group’s first fatalities.
The 312th rotated to Statesboro, Georgia for ten days to practice maneuvers and experience life in the field. Working and sleeping in tents at Statesboro was the first taste of Army life for many men. As the months progressed, the Group continued and finished their training at Hunter Field by the middle of February 1943. From there, they moved to De Ridder Army Air Base and later Rice and Salinas air bases in California, where they transitioned to the P-40. Salinas was the final Stateside training base for the Group.

The new year of 1942 began cold and damp, and once more we had to face the walk to school in all weathers. It was a good thing we all loved going to the village school, as it made the long walk more bearable. It was about this time that Mum and Dad started to receive letters from the school board regarding my brother George. He had turned five years old, and they still had not sent him to school. He should have attended some months earlier.

It was Dad who was keeping him home as he loved having George with him all the time and was loath to send him away from home for the best part of the day. In the end, Dad realised that he was not being fair to George, as he was missing out on his education. So our brother joined us on our walk to school.

As the year turned from winter to spring, Dad started to prepare his allotment again. Some days he would come in from the garden looking quite ill, and would have to go to bed. Mum told him not to worry about trying to make extra money selling any spare produce, as we would manage on what we had. At this Dad shouted at Mum: “That’s right, make me feel more bloody useless. I thought it would be my way of helping the family.” Mum said that she was only thinking of his health, but she never mentioned again that she thought the digging was too hard for Dad. At the time I did not understand why my Dad was so angry, but now I realise how frustrated he must have felt at not being able to support his family. He had always taken great pride in providing his large family with a decent standard of living while he was at work.

Our Mum was expecting another baby, and her legs were troubling her. She had very bad varicose veins which made her legs ache when standing for long periods. Mary, Kath and I tried to help more in the house so Mum could have a rest during the day.

Lil had now left school and was working in the kitchen of a hotel in Cardiff, and because of the distance, she had to live in. Although the extra money that Lil sent home was handy, Mum missed all her help in the home.

One day Mum and Dad received a letter from our Gran. In the letter, Gran wrote how bad the blitz was getting in London. Gran then asked my parents if they could find room for her elderly friend, who was in bad health and lived on her own. Her only son was in the air force, and he was worried about the effect the raids were having on her. Mum and Dad did not like to say no, so it was decided that Gran’s friend would come to stay the following week. It was a decision they would regret. It was decided that she would have the small bedroom, and my brothers would have to share our room. The boys had one bed, and us three girls shared the other one.

Gran’s friend arrived one day in a car, and she made the driver bring her right to the house. We never found out who the car belonged to. Dad said it probably ruined the tyres coming through all the stony ruts in the lane. When she stepped out of the car, we were amazed at how posh she looked. Her hair was grey and cut in a bob, and she had a touch of make-up on. She was quite well built, and the expensive suit she had on was a perfect fit. I could not take my eyes off her fox fur, complete with head, that she wore around her shoulders. Her luggage consisted of three very expensive cases which she told the driver to carry into the house. Then she reached into the car and brought out a cat in a wire cage. We learned later that it was a Siamese cat, and was also a very spoilt cat. She paid the driver some money, and he went back down the lane. As she walked into the house she told my parents that her name was Mrs Costin. My brothers and sisters were all staring at her but she totally ignored us, and asked to see her room.

When Mum showed Mrs Costin her room, she complained that it was too small, and there was nowhere to hang her clothes. Mum said she was sorry but it was the only room they could spare. Mum asked if she would like a drink or anything to eat, and she replied that she wanted a cup of tea and would take dinner later. Mrs Costin told Mum that she wanted all her meals in her room, as there were too many children downstairs for her liking.

As Mum was going out the door, Mrs Costin said to her: “Get your husband to bring my cases up.” Mum came down the stairs muttering to herself, saying: “What does she think this is, a bleedin’ hotel?”

Mum asked me to take the tea upstairs to Mrs Costin. I knocked on the door before opening it, but as I entered the room the cat jumped at me, spitting and snarling. I dropped the tea all over the floor, and ran downstairs to tell Mum. Mum said she would take the tea up and have a word with Mrs Costin about the cat.

When Mum took the fresh pot of tea upstairs, the cat did the same thing to her, but luckily Mum held on to the tea. When Mum told Mrs Costin she would have to have her meals downstairs because of the cat, she said that she would keep the cat on a lead at meal times. She then asked Mum if we could take the cat for a walk twice a day. The first time I took the cat for a walk it kept hissing and snarling, then it pulled and tugged on the lead. In the end I tied it to a tree for a while, making out I had taken it for a walk.

Mrs Costin rarely came out of her room. Once a week she gave Mum some money to buy her food and medicines. There was a small table behind the door in her bedroom and this was full of pills, bottles of medicines, creams and bandages. Mum had to buy the cat’s food as well, and this had to be fresh fish as she did not like the cat to eat tinned food. With all the rationing at the time, it was quite a problem for Mum. As the weeks went by the small bedroom began to smell of a mixture of cats and medicines. Mum complained about the smell, but Mrs Costin would never open the window.