So what did the alert mean for you?
It was a mixture of things really, this was right after the regrettable incident involving some idiot sending some of our motor riflemen to go back up the East German security forces who were putting down riots in East Berlin. Well, most of our young conscripts had never a) been out of barracks except on supervised trips before and b) didn't speak a lick of German and c) were downright terrified.
Well, the result there was predictable. A young conscript lost his head, and began firing. Before long, his whole damn company opened fire into the crowd. It says a lot for the marksmanship of the average Soviet soldier that not only were members of the crowd hit, but members of the East German police and some of their Stasi Wachtbattalion men. It was a damned mess. Hell, I think some West Germans got hit too. Our own officers had a hell of a time restoring order, and I am ashamed to say they shot some of those boys to do it.
I arrived to become the deputy battalion commander for the tank battalion two days after the event. Our orders mostly restricted us to barracks, with orders to "keep the men out of trouble, and don't give the imperialists any provocations." Yeah, we must not provoke NATO, but the old men in the Kremlin can shake the damned sabre as much as they liked. Fucking chekists!
Are you alright, Major?
Yes, I apologize Comrade Professor, those fools in the Kremlin. They deluded themselves with the idea NATO, especially the Americans were drug sodden pampered pushovers who would not fight the Soviet Army. That was a foolish mistake. A mistake that killed millions ultimately.
So, what occurred next?
On or about the 12th of February, we were taken by train to a exercise area. Which one, I do not know as even we were not told. The train's windows were blacked out and we had armed soldiers of the Commandant's service posted between cars. We met up with equipment that was slightly older than ours (T-64 tanks and BMP-1s) and for three days, we exercised with copious amounts of live ammunition. I hadn't seen this much live ammunition since Afghanistan, and I even remarked to my battalion commander about it. He told me "not to worry about it". There was also the increasing venom in the lectures of the political officers about the "fascist German hyenas" and their "American mercenaries". I knew then, the decision had been made for war.
How did that make you feel?
Sad, angry, and a bit resigned and relieved. I was sad and angry because I knew our mission was to help the East Germans take West Berlin. I knew how that was going to end up. Urban combat never goes well for either side, especially for the attacker. I was resigned, because, well, it was that typical Russian fatalism. We know it's going to happen no matter what we do, so why the hell worry about it. See about trying to survive it. As for the relief part? Well, we'd wondered who was better for 40 years. Now, we'd find out, eh?
Sounds a bit bloodthirsty, considering what came next?
Yes, but I was a foolish man then, we all were. When word got around that the command would finally be "на западе" (to the West), some people cried, some prayed..actually, a lot did, but some pulled out bootleg vodka and began to sing songs about being in Calais in ten days. Yes, Comrade Professor, we were very foolish men. After we got the word, we slunk back into our barracks and did our best to prepare unobtrusively for war. I doubt the west missed it.
How so?
The west had their own military missions, and even though we went with a warplan that pretty much had us attacking from a standing start (which led to all KINDS of problems), we did catch NATO by some measure of surprise. Or, at least that's what we had hoped for. As it turned out? We didn't. NATO's Berlin garrison had been on alert since the 15th. They were waiting for us.
How bad was it?
Bad, very bad, Comrade Professor. By the time I traded my battalion's tanks for those German trucks for the trek across Poland? There was barely 7 tanks and 20 men left. And this was after 5 days of fighting.
END PART THREE