Spearhead
And so when the sea started freezing up, the surviving MTBs of the Joint Squadron were taken to Viipuri where they started stripping out the engines and weapons. The battles of the Gulf of Viipuri in the fall of 1944 had pretty much decimated the fighting strength of the navy, culminating in the sinking of the Ilmarinen in a massive Soviet air operation south of Kotka in late October. Given how things were going, the navy leadership signalled the HQ in Mikkeli that there would be no chance the Finnish Navy could field a force capable of even tactical operations in the 1945 sailing season.
If such a season would ever be reached, that is. Generally, very few believed in that, come December 1944.
And so, in my capacity as the commander of the Joint Squadron, I was attached to the newly founded Viipuri Provisional Navy Workshop to oversee the construction of the new vehicles and subsequently to take control of the new unit. I believe the orders officially came through on December 7th – the day after I had been issued my second Mannerheim Cross, for the operations on the Gulf of Viipuri, mostly unsuccessful as they were.
Tervasmaa and Ylinen from the State Aircraft Factory, I think, had sent some of their junior engineers, and there was someone there from the Viipuri Boat Yard, and together they were putting these things together out of bits and pieces from boats and airplanes. I think each one was a prototype of sorts, some looked more like tanks, others like aircraft. All were heavier than any such vehicle before, but then they had more powerful engines and were more heavily armed as well.
There was a brief lull in the fighting – we later found out it was because the Red Army was putting its ducks in a row for the March offensive, after taking back Leningrad – or what was left of it, anyway – and when we were testing the damn things on the sea ice just outside Viipuri there was just sporadic gunfire from the east. At times, recon planes from Kuhlmey's unit flew over us, and in a few occasions tangled with Soviet fighters over Viipuri. Having made their point by pretty much levelling Helsinki in the six months before, the Soviet ADD was notably absent in December as well, and would also make itself visible only in February when the final preparations for the main offensive were kicked off.
What can I say about these tests? They were surprisingly succesful, I guess, though after one of the vehicles sunk in water in a weaker part of the ice, the designers started thinking about the issue of weight. What with the big aircraft engines, it would be impossible to mount any guns heavier than 20-30 mm on these things.
Which was a problem in terms of the punch they could deliver, of course. But there were workarounds. The lighter ones were armed with new German light anti-tank weapons, Panzerschrecks and the like, in addition to dual-mounted light machine guns, and it seemed to do the trick in terms of firepower. But the heavier vehicles...
We had heard what the Japanese were doing, of course. But until when we heard the news from the German fronts, we did not consider such measures. Then of course the Red Army completed the Smolensk encirclement and forced the surrender Hoth's forces... I don't know who suggested the idea first. But already in late December the first heavy vehicle with a static explosive load was planned. I heard the designers called it both the "Bobi Sivén" and the "Revenge of Kullervo". To me it seemed like poor form, at first, to be honest.
There was no denying that the Germans were losing the war, and Finland along with them. But after what the Soviets did to Helsinki, we thought, what they did to Mannerheim, Ryti and Witting... There was no giving up, not in early 1945. It was the question of the very survival of the Finnish nation, you see.
On January 13th 1945, the Separate Assault Sled Group came officially into existence, by order of the Mikkeli HQ, comprising of the Heavy Assault Sled Squadron ”Sven Tuuva”, the Light Assault Sled Squadron ”Jaakko Ilkka” and the Transport Sled Squadron. Organizationally the unit was directly under the Mikkeli HQ, to be subordinated on a case by case basis to other units, especially the Coastal formations in the southeast and of course the Army of the Isthmus. My HQ was originally set up at Uuras, from where I led the unit until February.
January and early February were mainly used for training and preparation. Thankfully the ice was now strong enough even for the heavy vehicles. In tests, we found that all the new models reached reasonable speeds, and that their engine configurations were trustworthy. What was more difficult was the steering of these beasts, and also the suspension on most vehicles was found to cause problems on uneven ice. Together, these problems affected controlling the vehicles and the handling both the machines themselves and their weapons at speed. Some improvements were made, but only a part of the problems could be removed.
In the second week of February, the units moved south and my HQ needed to set up at Hurppu near Virolahti. Reconnaissance units and radio intelligence reported troop movements to the isthmus and generally in the Leningrad area. There were also news of an impending Soviet breakthrough near Narva against the German and Estonian units, which would have made the Finnish strategic situation increasingly desperate.
As you know, the attack itself started on February 23rd, in the morning. It was surprisingly strong, even with the knowledge we had. It seemed the Soviet military was hitting us with all it had. Immediately after the attack begun, the Soviet air forces hit the Gulf area repeatedly and also we barely avoided losses due to air attacks. From that day on, I sent the Light Squadron and some of the better Transport Squadron vehicles on recon runs towards the south and southeast.
As we had predicted, three days from the beginning of the attack, the first Soviet infantry units, with light armor support were spotted on the ice, attacking west from the Koivisto area. As had also been expected, the Red Army followed quite closely the same plan they had in 1940, trying to go around the Viipuri area defences from the south to breach the Finnish lines.
Together with some mobile coastal artillery and coastal troops, the Separate Assault Sled Group was the unit that would have to beat back this attack.
And we were ready – as much as that was possible.
The recon missions soon turned into actual engagements. And on March 2nd we got word that a fighter pilot flying along the front lines had spotted large infantry formations, with many armored vehicles moving in support, on the ice, moving against the islands of Tuppura and Teikari. At the same time, we were informed of heavy Soviet armored attacks on the isthmus front, near Äyräpää. As all the assault sled units took off in the early morning, with a massive roar of engines on the sea ice, I had the feeling that we were living the deciding moments of Finland's fight against the eastern menace.
My plan was to take the squadrons south and then attack the enemy from their rear, if possible, to maximise the surprise effect. Our advance across the sea ice was masked by heavy winds and snowfall, making visibility poor for us as well as the enemy. I personally commanded KRK-12, one of the fastest ones of the light sleds, armed only with the dual 20 mm Madsens. And the tow mine, of course.
A bit after 8 a.m. we arrived within view of Pullinniemi, the head of land south of Tuppura and could see the Soviet forces attacking the island. As planned, the attacking force formed into two sharp wedge formations on the ice and in we went, opening fire only when we were 50 meters off the first Soviets.
The sleds attacked at speeds in excess of 80 km per hour. With our weapons blazing, we cut a wide opening in the ranks of the attacking Soviets, like a hot knife into butter. The surprise was nearly perfect – obviously the Soviets had not expected a counterattack across the ice. The Soviet infantry was mainly supported by BT series tanks, obsolete at that part of the war, but of course light enough to move across the ice. The sleds armed with AT weapons managed to take some of those out as well, though we performed better against the infrantry.
After this initial attack, we moved on with the second part of the plan. Betting on the attackers near Tuppura not being quick enough to alert their comrades to the north, the light squadron now moved to attack against the Soviet units attacking Teikari, while the heavy squadron pushed ahead, at maximum speed to overtake the attacking force entirely, turning around towards the east in front of the southern tip of the island where we could just see the Finnish coastal units defending the island pouring fire against the attackers. In the lead vehicle, I personally sent the identification code to the island with my signal lamp to avoid friendly fire.
The light sleds' attack against the enemy was not as successful as before Tuppura, but neither was it a failure. The heavy unit however – they managed a textbook turn, and while in front of Teikari, released their tow mines in a pre-planned move. As soon as the release was completed, the sleds again turned north to go around the island. And in 40 seconds, the tow mines exploded, as planned, to break the ice in front of the attackers and cut their way towards Teikari.
Everything went pretty much as I had planned it.
Apart from the fact that, as we soon learned, only two of the tow mines had been strong enough to actually break the ice.
As the assault sled squadrons regrouped and headed back towards Virolahti to replenish fuel supplies, I was already busy planning follow-up action. After a brief respite at Hurppu, we prepared for another attack in the afternoon. The word from Teikari was that while we had managed to hold back the enemy for a while, more men and tanks poured at the islands from the Koivisto area. At 3 p.m., we then got word that Tuppura had fallen and its last defenders had surrendered to the enemy. The defenders of Teikari sent us urgent radio messages that they needed help as soon as possible, or the same fate would befall them in hours.
When we again took off after 4 p.m., there were two sleds less in action than in the morning, due to damages caused by enemy fire. And some of the others were crippled, with some weapons not working, and so on. Five men had been lost. Now, in comparison to the morning, we could not trust in being able to surprise the enemy. It would have to be a direct attack against the enemy. The ”spearhead” sleds of the Heavy Squadron were loaded with their payloads, and I sent their crews, all volunteers, to the unit's chaplain before we went off, to make their peace with what was about to happen.
After the morning, the weather had cleared, and now we were speeding towards the east in bright sunlight. There was no way the enemy would not see us coming. We still tried to stay near the coast to get some visual cover from it. After reaching the tip of Häränpäänniemi, we headed towards the Soviet units visible to the south of Teikari. There was an air battle raging above, Finnish and German planes tangling with their Soviet counterparts in a desperate fight that masked our advance towards Teikari, I hoped, at least somewhat.
As soon as we got closer, we started receiving fire from the Russians on the ice, and from Tuppura to the south as well. The first ones of the light sleds got hit and flew spectacularly around on the ice, at the speed of circa 90 km/h, one kilometer before Teikari. The rest flew on as the sun started going down behind us. I had planned for the sleds to attack roughly from the direction of the setting sun. I don't know if that helped us.
Soon we were closing in on the Soviet units attacking Teikari. I could see several tanks turning their guns towards us, and there were already Red Army soldiers on the island itself, manhandling light artillery pieces into position. My plan was again to attack the enemy at one point, to use speed and concentrated fire to punch through the enemy formation to cause maximum damage.
Closing in, I could hear rifle caliber bullets making a sound like hail on the sled's front plate, the only strongly armored part of the vehicle. Looking to the left, another of the light sleds veered off its course and overturned, its pilot apparently having been hit by bullets or shrapnel.
Now the heavy ”spearhead” sleds were leading the attack. The men of the ”Sven Tuuva”, volunteers all. Speeding across the uneven ice towards sure death. All the four heavy sleads were only manned by two men and lightly armed. What made the bulk of their weight were the Isotta-Fraschini aircraft engines and several depth charges rigged on both sides of the central body of the vehicle. These sleds as well were only armored at the front.
As I watched from my command sled, RRR-2 and RRR-3 cut into the Soviet infantry formation, both receiving multiple hits from light weapons as they did so, and almost in unison, both exploded in the middle of the Red Army units, filling the air with a deafening roar and shrapnell of various kinds. My own sled jumped on the ice due to the pressure from the explosions but continued to the same direction. The explosions apparently startled the Soviets, as their fire grew more sporadic.
And then it was time to RRRs 4 and 5 to go explode in the middle of the enemy as well. I just had time to think that even if the human cost to the Separate Assault Sled Group was great, it looked like we had stopped the attack this day. The enemy looked to be in disarray after these suicidal attacks, and the remaining defenders on Teikari had now the chance to throw back the invaders.
As soon as I managed to get this idea into my mind, the command sled struck something, maybe a part of one of the now disintegrated heavy sleds and stopped abruptly. It then flipped around, from the speed of very nearly 100 km/h, I think. The last thing I remember is a comical look of terror on the face of an upside down Red Army soldier as I am flying towards him.
Then, darkness.
Finally, I wake up in pain. Someone pulls me up violently and shouts something to me. It is pitch dark, at first.
” - This is an officer”, I hear in Russian, ”see”, says someone, tugging at my uniform.
” - Take him to the command post, now!”, continues the same voice and I am pushed forward on the ice, still stunned. I now see some early evening light around me as someone strikes me in the back with something, maybe a rifle butt.
” - Move, you bastard! That way.”
You know the rest. I was one of the few survivors of my unit. The island of Teikari was taken the next day, I understand, and Viipuri itself fell only a week later.
I have told you what I know of the last part of my war, to the best of my knowledge. I 've left nothing out, and if you ask the other survivors of the unit, you'll hear pretty much the same.
As to what you are asking, in general, I can't help you there. I am a Navy officer and now I am a prisoner of war. I accept that.
What I am not is a traitor.
(Note 1: Excerpt taken from the interrogation transcript of one Pirhonen, Jouko Kalevi Esaias, formerly an officer in the Finnish Navy and the commander of the Separate Assault Sled Group in early 1945.
Prisoner of War Camp No. 256, Vorkuta.
Dated September 12th 1946.)
(Note 2: Suggestion to transfer subject to the Finnish People's Navy as a specialist denied on account of unsuitable political attitudes and extensive wartime affiliation with Hitlerites. - Beria)
And so when the sea started freezing up, the surviving MTBs of the Joint Squadron were taken to Viipuri where they started stripping out the engines and weapons. The battles of the Gulf of Viipuri in the fall of 1944 had pretty much decimated the fighting strength of the navy, culminating in the sinking of the Ilmarinen in a massive Soviet air operation south of Kotka in late October. Given how things were going, the navy leadership signalled the HQ in Mikkeli that there would be no chance the Finnish Navy could field a force capable of even tactical operations in the 1945 sailing season.
If such a season would ever be reached, that is. Generally, very few believed in that, come December 1944.
And so, in my capacity as the commander of the Joint Squadron, I was attached to the newly founded Viipuri Provisional Navy Workshop to oversee the construction of the new vehicles and subsequently to take control of the new unit. I believe the orders officially came through on December 7th – the day after I had been issued my second Mannerheim Cross, for the operations on the Gulf of Viipuri, mostly unsuccessful as they were.
Tervasmaa and Ylinen from the State Aircraft Factory, I think, had sent some of their junior engineers, and there was someone there from the Viipuri Boat Yard, and together they were putting these things together out of bits and pieces from boats and airplanes. I think each one was a prototype of sorts, some looked more like tanks, others like aircraft. All were heavier than any such vehicle before, but then they had more powerful engines and were more heavily armed as well.
There was a brief lull in the fighting – we later found out it was because the Red Army was putting its ducks in a row for the March offensive, after taking back Leningrad – or what was left of it, anyway – and when we were testing the damn things on the sea ice just outside Viipuri there was just sporadic gunfire from the east. At times, recon planes from Kuhlmey's unit flew over us, and in a few occasions tangled with Soviet fighters over Viipuri. Having made their point by pretty much levelling Helsinki in the six months before, the Soviet ADD was notably absent in December as well, and would also make itself visible only in February when the final preparations for the main offensive were kicked off.
What can I say about these tests? They were surprisingly succesful, I guess, though after one of the vehicles sunk in water in a weaker part of the ice, the designers started thinking about the issue of weight. What with the big aircraft engines, it would be impossible to mount any guns heavier than 20-30 mm on these things.
Which was a problem in terms of the punch they could deliver, of course. But there were workarounds. The lighter ones were armed with new German light anti-tank weapons, Panzerschrecks and the like, in addition to dual-mounted light machine guns, and it seemed to do the trick in terms of firepower. But the heavier vehicles...
We had heard what the Japanese were doing, of course. But until when we heard the news from the German fronts, we did not consider such measures. Then of course the Red Army completed the Smolensk encirclement and forced the surrender Hoth's forces... I don't know who suggested the idea first. But already in late December the first heavy vehicle with a static explosive load was planned. I heard the designers called it both the "Bobi Sivén" and the "Revenge of Kullervo". To me it seemed like poor form, at first, to be honest.
There was no denying that the Germans were losing the war, and Finland along with them. But after what the Soviets did to Helsinki, we thought, what they did to Mannerheim, Ryti and Witting... There was no giving up, not in early 1945. It was the question of the very survival of the Finnish nation, you see.
On January 13th 1945, the Separate Assault Sled Group came officially into existence, by order of the Mikkeli HQ, comprising of the Heavy Assault Sled Squadron ”Sven Tuuva”, the Light Assault Sled Squadron ”Jaakko Ilkka” and the Transport Sled Squadron. Organizationally the unit was directly under the Mikkeli HQ, to be subordinated on a case by case basis to other units, especially the Coastal formations in the southeast and of course the Army of the Isthmus. My HQ was originally set up at Uuras, from where I led the unit until February.
January and early February were mainly used for training and preparation. Thankfully the ice was now strong enough even for the heavy vehicles. In tests, we found that all the new models reached reasonable speeds, and that their engine configurations were trustworthy. What was more difficult was the steering of these beasts, and also the suspension on most vehicles was found to cause problems on uneven ice. Together, these problems affected controlling the vehicles and the handling both the machines themselves and their weapons at speed. Some improvements were made, but only a part of the problems could be removed.
In the second week of February, the units moved south and my HQ needed to set up at Hurppu near Virolahti. Reconnaissance units and radio intelligence reported troop movements to the isthmus and generally in the Leningrad area. There were also news of an impending Soviet breakthrough near Narva against the German and Estonian units, which would have made the Finnish strategic situation increasingly desperate.
As you know, the attack itself started on February 23rd, in the morning. It was surprisingly strong, even with the knowledge we had. It seemed the Soviet military was hitting us with all it had. Immediately after the attack begun, the Soviet air forces hit the Gulf area repeatedly and also we barely avoided losses due to air attacks. From that day on, I sent the Light Squadron and some of the better Transport Squadron vehicles on recon runs towards the south and southeast.
As we had predicted, three days from the beginning of the attack, the first Soviet infantry units, with light armor support were spotted on the ice, attacking west from the Koivisto area. As had also been expected, the Red Army followed quite closely the same plan they had in 1940, trying to go around the Viipuri area defences from the south to breach the Finnish lines.
Together with some mobile coastal artillery and coastal troops, the Separate Assault Sled Group was the unit that would have to beat back this attack.
And we were ready – as much as that was possible.
The recon missions soon turned into actual engagements. And on March 2nd we got word that a fighter pilot flying along the front lines had spotted large infantry formations, with many armored vehicles moving in support, on the ice, moving against the islands of Tuppura and Teikari. At the same time, we were informed of heavy Soviet armored attacks on the isthmus front, near Äyräpää. As all the assault sled units took off in the early morning, with a massive roar of engines on the sea ice, I had the feeling that we were living the deciding moments of Finland's fight against the eastern menace.
My plan was to take the squadrons south and then attack the enemy from their rear, if possible, to maximise the surprise effect. Our advance across the sea ice was masked by heavy winds and snowfall, making visibility poor for us as well as the enemy. I personally commanded KRK-12, one of the fastest ones of the light sleds, armed only with the dual 20 mm Madsens. And the tow mine, of course.
A bit after 8 a.m. we arrived within view of Pullinniemi, the head of land south of Tuppura and could see the Soviet forces attacking the island. As planned, the attacking force formed into two sharp wedge formations on the ice and in we went, opening fire only when we were 50 meters off the first Soviets.
The sleds attacked at speeds in excess of 80 km per hour. With our weapons blazing, we cut a wide opening in the ranks of the attacking Soviets, like a hot knife into butter. The surprise was nearly perfect – obviously the Soviets had not expected a counterattack across the ice. The Soviet infantry was mainly supported by BT series tanks, obsolete at that part of the war, but of course light enough to move across the ice. The sleds armed with AT weapons managed to take some of those out as well, though we performed better against the infrantry.
After this initial attack, we moved on with the second part of the plan. Betting on the attackers near Tuppura not being quick enough to alert their comrades to the north, the light squadron now moved to attack against the Soviet units attacking Teikari, while the heavy squadron pushed ahead, at maximum speed to overtake the attacking force entirely, turning around towards the east in front of the southern tip of the island where we could just see the Finnish coastal units defending the island pouring fire against the attackers. In the lead vehicle, I personally sent the identification code to the island with my signal lamp to avoid friendly fire.
The light sleds' attack against the enemy was not as successful as before Tuppura, but neither was it a failure. The heavy unit however – they managed a textbook turn, and while in front of Teikari, released their tow mines in a pre-planned move. As soon as the release was completed, the sleds again turned north to go around the island. And in 40 seconds, the tow mines exploded, as planned, to break the ice in front of the attackers and cut their way towards Teikari.
Everything went pretty much as I had planned it.
Apart from the fact that, as we soon learned, only two of the tow mines had been strong enough to actually break the ice.
As the assault sled squadrons regrouped and headed back towards Virolahti to replenish fuel supplies, I was already busy planning follow-up action. After a brief respite at Hurppu, we prepared for another attack in the afternoon. The word from Teikari was that while we had managed to hold back the enemy for a while, more men and tanks poured at the islands from the Koivisto area. At 3 p.m., we then got word that Tuppura had fallen and its last defenders had surrendered to the enemy. The defenders of Teikari sent us urgent radio messages that they needed help as soon as possible, or the same fate would befall them in hours.
When we again took off after 4 p.m., there were two sleds less in action than in the morning, due to damages caused by enemy fire. And some of the others were crippled, with some weapons not working, and so on. Five men had been lost. Now, in comparison to the morning, we could not trust in being able to surprise the enemy. It would have to be a direct attack against the enemy. The ”spearhead” sleds of the Heavy Squadron were loaded with their payloads, and I sent their crews, all volunteers, to the unit's chaplain before we went off, to make their peace with what was about to happen.
After the morning, the weather had cleared, and now we were speeding towards the east in bright sunlight. There was no way the enemy would not see us coming. We still tried to stay near the coast to get some visual cover from it. After reaching the tip of Häränpäänniemi, we headed towards the Soviet units visible to the south of Teikari. There was an air battle raging above, Finnish and German planes tangling with their Soviet counterparts in a desperate fight that masked our advance towards Teikari, I hoped, at least somewhat.
As soon as we got closer, we started receiving fire from the Russians on the ice, and from Tuppura to the south as well. The first ones of the light sleds got hit and flew spectacularly around on the ice, at the speed of circa 90 km/h, one kilometer before Teikari. The rest flew on as the sun started going down behind us. I had planned for the sleds to attack roughly from the direction of the setting sun. I don't know if that helped us.
Soon we were closing in on the Soviet units attacking Teikari. I could see several tanks turning their guns towards us, and there were already Red Army soldiers on the island itself, manhandling light artillery pieces into position. My plan was again to attack the enemy at one point, to use speed and concentrated fire to punch through the enemy formation to cause maximum damage.
Closing in, I could hear rifle caliber bullets making a sound like hail on the sled's front plate, the only strongly armored part of the vehicle. Looking to the left, another of the light sleds veered off its course and overturned, its pilot apparently having been hit by bullets or shrapnel.
Now the heavy ”spearhead” sleds were leading the attack. The men of the ”Sven Tuuva”, volunteers all. Speeding across the uneven ice towards sure death. All the four heavy sleads were only manned by two men and lightly armed. What made the bulk of their weight were the Isotta-Fraschini aircraft engines and several depth charges rigged on both sides of the central body of the vehicle. These sleds as well were only armored at the front.
As I watched from my command sled, RRR-2 and RRR-3 cut into the Soviet infantry formation, both receiving multiple hits from light weapons as they did so, and almost in unison, both exploded in the middle of the Red Army units, filling the air with a deafening roar and shrapnell of various kinds. My own sled jumped on the ice due to the pressure from the explosions but continued to the same direction. The explosions apparently startled the Soviets, as their fire grew more sporadic.
And then it was time to RRRs 4 and 5 to go explode in the middle of the enemy as well. I just had time to think that even if the human cost to the Separate Assault Sled Group was great, it looked like we had stopped the attack this day. The enemy looked to be in disarray after these suicidal attacks, and the remaining defenders on Teikari had now the chance to throw back the invaders.
As soon as I managed to get this idea into my mind, the command sled struck something, maybe a part of one of the now disintegrated heavy sleds and stopped abruptly. It then flipped around, from the speed of very nearly 100 km/h, I think. The last thing I remember is a comical look of terror on the face of an upside down Red Army soldier as I am flying towards him.
Then, darkness.
Finally, I wake up in pain. Someone pulls me up violently and shouts something to me. It is pitch dark, at first.
” - This is an officer”, I hear in Russian, ”see”, says someone, tugging at my uniform.
” - Take him to the command post, now!”, continues the same voice and I am pushed forward on the ice, still stunned. I now see some early evening light around me as someone strikes me in the back with something, maybe a rifle butt.
” - Move, you bastard! That way.”
You know the rest. I was one of the few survivors of my unit. The island of Teikari was taken the next day, I understand, and Viipuri itself fell only a week later.
I have told you what I know of the last part of my war, to the best of my knowledge. I 've left nothing out, and if you ask the other survivors of the unit, you'll hear pretty much the same.
As to what you are asking, in general, I can't help you there. I am a Navy officer and now I am a prisoner of war. I accept that.
What I am not is a traitor.
(Note 1: Excerpt taken from the interrogation transcript of one Pirhonen, Jouko Kalevi Esaias, formerly an officer in the Finnish Navy and the commander of the Separate Assault Sled Group in early 1945.
Prisoner of War Camp No. 256, Vorkuta.
Dated September 12th 1946.)
(Note 2: Suggestion to transfer subject to the Finnish People's Navy as a specialist denied on account of unsuitable political attitudes and extensive wartime affiliation with Hitlerites. - Beria)
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