Niemirow AAR Sgt. Borosov & Little Sasha

[heinrich55]

Tretiev is everywhere, bellowing curses and calling the enemy to task for the loss of his friends.

He is a man possessed with almost superhuman strength, his bloodlust aroused to fever pitch.

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Outside, the tankers are mere spectators. The tank commanders look on helplessly, unwilling to cut their comrades down but desperate to provide covering fire and help the men in the building.

The screams of the dead and dying can be heard over the roar of their tank engines.

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The tension is unbearable, as frantic Russian soldiers fire through windows trying to help Tretiev and his brave squad.

Seconds later Tretiev, the unbreakable, the one who could never fall no matter how many enemy bullets targeted him….he is stitched across the chest with machine pistol bullets. A look of incredible surprise crosses his face for a moment, as if this possibility never occurred to him, that he might actually be killed.

Then he slowly slides to the floor, staring forever but not seeing his fellow comrades cut down in a hail of gunfire.

There are a few more screams, some more sounds of machine pistol fire, and then silence. The machine pistols have overwhelmed the bolt-action rifles of the brave Russians.

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The soldiers outside the building hesitate. If Tretiev was unable to best the enemy at hand-to-hand, how will they fare.

Corporal Valen sees the look in their eyes and knows they will not charge into the building now. He yells at them to fire through the windows.

At the same time the tank crews now have a clear shot into the building without fear of killing their own and they let loose with a barrage of HE shells. Valen thinks that if they can weaken the enemy, his men might then have a chance to overwhelm the defenders.

[heinrich55]

While Tretiev is falling in battle, Lt. Turov decides to give his idea one more try but this time Capt. Denska is the one who motions rapidly to Turov’s men; he sees the immediate merit to the idea.

Wasting no time, Turov scrambles up onto the rear deck of the Captain’s tank, followed quickly by his men. Denska shouts into the tank and the driver grinds the gears fast – they lurch forward and race into the mouth of the unknown.

Turov’s men fire for all they are worth as Denska’s tank races across the open meadow.

They are all amazed when they make it to shelter behind a line of houses.

[heinrich55]

Much has happened since Little Sasha pushed forwards with the infantry in the woods on the right flank. Borosov and his crew have been unaware of the disasters befalling the left flank, or of Tretiev’s gallant charge and demise. They have been covering the slow infantry crawl towards several enemy-occupied buildings. Borosov has also seen the successful taking of the bridge by Morska’s medium tankers. They are essentially linked up.

But, things are taking too long. The attack has stalled in the face of fierce firepower from the enemy.

He kicks Petya in the center of the back and Petya gooses Little Sasha to rush a nearby ruin.

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They pull up to the ruin and he rotates the turret to bear on the last known enemy position, knowing just how menacing Little Sasha must appear.

The enemy is flushed from their hiding place and run out the back side of the building.

“Fire!” roars Borosov, “Cut them down fast!”

Run, little rabbits, run, he silently urges the enemy soldiers, fleeing for their lives.

Why he thinks this, he cannot say. Perhaps his heart is not properly hardened.

[heinrich55]

Vannya has hurled another shell into the gun breech in the blink of an eye.

“Last one” he screams over the roar of battle.

Borosov cannot believe it – they have fired all of their HE shells now. Damn it, he thinks as he punches the trigger.

Little Sasha roars her anger and a gout of flame reaches out for the fleeing rabbits.

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Most of them are still running, some down and broken, and odds are they won’t make it, but Little Sasha has no more HE shells.

Borosov immediately fires his turret-mounted machine gun.

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Lt. Turov and Capt. Denska are hatching their plan on the other side of town which borders on the aggressively reckless. They now have two squads riding their last two BT-7 tanks.

Denska shouts “Where to?” and Turov merely points towards the town square. The Captain nods and motions both tanks into a rush.


The two tanks rush forward, cutting between buildings, past the silent dead of earlier attacks. They mean to actually rush through into the town center. There is a heady air of fear and adrenaline rush in the men as they cling to the steel tanks, rocking through the underbrush.

As the one tank rounds a building corner, machine gun fire rips down from a church spire. The enemy is on target and the one squad bails off the back of the tank. Turov is on the other tank and he curses out loud. This will slow their attack.

[heinrich55]

Denska’s tank lurches around the corner and starts to rush up the street.

Turov never hears the screams of his men as the first of many rounds tear through him and scythe down his entire squad.

Denska does not hear the screams as his tank transmission is roaring. He no longer has his riders.

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Korev is trying to keep up with Denska’s charge. He, too, is unaware he has lost his squad.

His driver spins the right track faster and slips the tank out into the street more. The driver thinks he sees a blossom of red and orange way down the street, and in that instant he is confused at what it could mean…..

He never realizes that he is witnessing his own demise.

Sgt. Korev does, and begins to shout a warning to his crew. The words are not faster than the shell that rips him apart.

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The shell penetrates the thin armor and leaves no time to scream or even realize what is happening.

The tank comes apart, literally at the seams.

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There are no survivors. There will be little to indicate that men even existed once inside the flaming coffin.

The squad of infantry that were only moments before on the rear deck of this funeral pyre watches the horrible turn of events from the safety of a building they took cover within.

Their faces are white as they realize they could be burning now too if fate hadn’t saved them for the moment.

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Denska now sees the danger looming large before them. His driver yells out that they have taken damage to their left track and Denska instantly knows they cannot charge the enemy gun with reduced speed. It will have to be his skill that saves or kills them.

“Stop, Stop, Stop!” he shouts to the terrified driver, and the tank lurches to a halt as he spins the sights to line up their gun on the enemy.

They already have an HE shell in the breech – if only he can get the first shot off.

[heinrich55]

Locked in a deadly duel with the enemy AT gun he has no other thought than to line up the crosshairs…..

....and the red and orange billow of flame light up his gun sights. His last thought is Dammit, TOO LATE!

As Korev’s tank billows flames of death behind Denska, the German AT gunners have practically no correction to make.

They duck and cover their ears as he is the first to see Act II of the tragedy plays out on the Niemirow stage.

[heinrich55]

An ear-splitting roar announces the death of Denska and his gallant crew.

Two black funeral pyres now tower over the graves of the tankers.

With the loss of those two tanks, morale has been broken and the battle ends quickly.

[heinrich55]

Aftermath

It is a legendary defeat, as the Germans cannot be pried out of their buildings, even with point-blank shells from tanks. The word filters to the exhausted men; pull back. In many cases they were already doing so, having lost their leadership.

When he notices a runner trying to get his attention, Sgt. Morska stops and receives the word. He then signals the rest of his tankers, and they, in turn signal the other units.

Close to the burning funeral pyres of Denska’s tank and Korev’s tank, the infantry in town have already lost heart and are slowly extricating themselves from their position near the center square. Wounded are everywhere and are slowly trudging to the rear or being carried by others not as badly wounded.

[heinrich55]

Lt. Malinov slowly backs his T-34 away from the building where Tretiev and his men so gallantly fell. He does so with a heavy heart and the feeling he is betraying their courage.

Corporal Valen makes curt hand gestures to the remaining squad and they fade back. He will try to hitch a ride on Malinov’s T-34. He wanted to assault the building and recover the bodies of Tretiev’s men while avenging their deaths, but he knew his squad was not up to the task.

Ivan Norov finally climbs from the silent T-34 he has crewed by himself. He will return to recover it, he hopes. It will probably be towed. He wonders if the loader and MG gunner got Detya back to the aid station. Were they in time to save him? His boots make puffs of grey Russian dusts as he plods slowly back to his lines.

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And what of Sgt. Andreyev Borosov and his gallant crew of Little Sasha?

While it cannot be recorded the fate that befell the “rabbits” that Little Sasha was hunting, as the battle ended so quickly, we can be sure that none of the “rabbits” made it to safety. They lie in the dust of that obscure road intersection in Niemirow, staining the dust a dark reddish brown, a bloody-reddish brown.

On their way back to the starting point they collect many wounded tankers, some horribly burned or torn from shrapnel. They finally lurch into their camp by late afternoon, and the wounded are removed to the aid station. Not many will survive, Borosov is convinced.

Vannya jabs his sergeant in the ribs and silently points. Borosov looks in that direction and sees their major being led away by grim-faced men with greenish uniforms and markings – yes, it is the dreaded NKVD. They are wasting no time.

The Major has a sad look of resignation on his face and knows that he will be lucky to get a quick bullet to the back of his head for incompetence of command. He cannot look any of his men in the face as he is driven away.

Political Officer Major Storok has a particularly pleased look on his face and has just announced that he is now in command. Groty, ever faithful, stands behind his hero.

“Look how his boots shine,” remarks Vannya Set ‘yanev.

Borosov feels an involuntary shiver go up his spine. He knows his loader is already plotting something nefarious for Storok.