Counterpoint to Stalingrad: Operation Mars, November-December 1942 – Marshal Zhukov's Greatest Defeat

Marshal Georgi K. Zhukov.

by David M. Glantz

After enduring months of bitter and costly defensive combat at Stalingrad, on 19 November 1942, Red Army forces struck a massive blow against the hitherto triumphant German Army. To the Germans' utter consternation, within one week Soviet forces encircled German Sixth Army in the deadly Stalingrad cauldron. Ten weeks later, the army's tattered remnants surrendered, ending the most famous battle of the German-Soviet War.

History states the titanic Battle of Stalingrad altered the course of war on the German Eastern Front and set the Wehrmacht and German Reich on its path toward utter and humiliating defeat. History accorded enduring fame to the victors of Stalingrad. The victorious Red Army seemingly never again suffered strategic or significant operational defeat. The architects of the Stalingrad victory entered the annals of military history as unvanquished heroes who led the subsequent Soviet march to victory. Foremost among them was Marshal of the Soviet Union Georgi Konstantinovich Zhukov, the hero of Moscow, Stalingrad, Kursk, and Berlin.

History, however, has misinformed us. The muses of history are fickle. They record only what was reported and ignore what was not. The adage, "To the victors belong the spoils," applies to history as well as war. As a spoil of war, history also exerts a powerful influence over future generations. Nowhere has this been more evident than in the case of Germany's war on the Eastern Front. The victorious Germans proudly recounted the triumphant course of the war to late 1942. Thereafter, the victorious Soviets proclaimed their martial feats, and few Germans disputed them.

The place names of 1941 and 1942 fame, such as Minsk, Kiev, Smolensk, and Khar'kov, properly evoke images of German triumph, while the names Moscow, Stalingrad, Kursk, Belorussia, and Berlin resound as unqualified Soviet victories. These images, however, are deceptive and flawed. For example, despite the impressive German advances in 1941 and 1942, German Operations Barbarossa and Blau [Blue] failed, Moscow and Leningrad remained in Soviet hands, and catastrophic German defeats followed, which culminated in the destruction of the German Reich.

Likewise, the history of the later war years has misled U.S. to an even greater extent by failing to qualify seemingly unending Soviet battlefield success. Understandably, the Soviets were quite reluctant to tarnish their record, and the Germans often avoided the unpleasantness by simply attributing defeat to a demented Hitler and overwhelming Soviet strength. The resulting Soviet combat record thus resembled a seamless, unblemished march to inevitable victory. This flawed historical mosaic has perverted the war's history by masking numerous Soviet failures and defeats which punctuated the Red Army's admittedly victorious march. It has also elevated the reputations of certain victorious Soviet commanders such as G. K. Zhukov and I. S. Konev to almost superhuman proportions, covering up the fact that, after all, they too were human and, as such, demonstrated characteristic human weaknesses.

This article begins the process of correcting the historical record of this most terrible war by identifying the flaws and by placing those famous battles which have already been recorded and extolled in their proper context. This is an impartial process, for almost as much has been forgotten about the period of German victory before late 1942 as has been forgotten about the Soviet triumphant march after late 1942.

Soviet Operation Mars is the most glaring instance where the historiography of the German-Soviet War has failed U.S. Originally planned for late-October 1942, but postponed until 25 November, Operation Mars was intended to be a companion piece to Operation Uranus, the code-name for the Soviet's Stalingrad strategic counteroffensive. By conducting Operations Mars and Uranus, the Soviet Stavka [Headquarters of the High Command] sought to regain the strategic initiative on the Eastern Front and set the Red Army on the path to total victory. Planned and conducted by Marshal G. K. Zhukov and a host of other famous Soviet generals and appropriately named for the God of War, Operation Mars formed the centerpiece of Soviet strategic designs in Fall 1942. Its immense scale and ambitious strategic intent made Operation Mars at least as important as Operation Uranus and likely more important. In its fickleness, however, history has forgotten Operation Mars because it failed, while it has extolled Operation Uranus because it succeeded.

Today, sufficient German and Soviet archival materials are available to permit correction of this historical mistake and to commemorate properly the sacrifices of the half million Red Army soldiers and the many Germans who fell during the operation, a figure which exceeds the military death toll of the United States Armed Forces throughout the entire war.

In late September 1942, key Stavka political and military leaders formulated a strategy to reverse the fortunes of war. Their plans reflected the bitter experiences of the prior 18 months of war and the military realities they confronted. During the tragic initial period of war in 1941, the ambitious German Operation Barbarossa had propelled German forces to the gates of Leningrad, Moscow, and Rostov before stiffened Soviet resistance and the effects of the Soviet Union's vast territorial expanse combined to bring exhausted German forces to a halt. German overextension and a desperate Soviet counteroffensive inflicted unprecedented, but temporary, defeat on Blitzkrieg at the very gates of Moscow in December 1941. Despite subsequent Soviet successes in the harsh winter which followed, however, German forces remained menacingly close to the Soviet capital.

Undeterred by their Moscow setback and inspired by the disastrous defeat of twin Soviet offensives in May 1942 at Khar'kov and in the Crimea, in June 1942 the German Army unleashed Operation Blau in an attempt to regain the strategic initiative and win the conflict. Replicating their ambitious 1941 operations, although on a lesser scale, in summer 1942 German forces plunged eastward across the endless steppes of southern Russia to the banks of the Volga River at Stalingrad and toward the oil-rich Caucasus region. After spectacular gains, the headlong German offensive reached the banks of the Volga in September but ground to a halt in October in the ruins of Stalingrad city and along the treacherous northern slopes of the imposing Caucasus Mountain barrier. Once again, German planners and operators alike had underestimated the resilience of the Red Army, the imposing challenges of the immense theater of operations, and the stoic resolution of their foes. Once again, in fall 1942 the Wehrmacht faced the inevitable wrath of a Soviet winter counteroffensive. The only question was, Where?

Marshal Zhukov played a significant role in September and October 1942 Stavka planning sessions. This was so because he had earned Stalin's trust by proving to be a tenacious and often victorious fighter. A former cavalry officer, Zhukov had earned much of his reputation as a fighter in action against the Japanese in August and September 1939. Forces under his command had utterly routed Japanese forces at Khalkhin Gol in eastern Mongolia, a defeat which later contributed to the critical Japanese decision to remain aloof from the German-Soviet War. Few now recall, however, the ruthlessness of Zhukov's assaults along the Khalkhin Gol [River], which had cost him about forty percent of his attacking force and had prompted sharp criticism from the Red Army General Staff.

After beginning the war as Chief of the Red Army General Staff, Zhukov received field command and was instrumental in bloodying the German's nose in the terrible battles around Smolensk in July and August 1941. In September Stalin relieved Zhukov of his command along the Western axis and dispatched him to Leningrad, ostensibly because Zhukov disagreed with Stalin's disastrous decision to defend Kiev. After stabilizing Soviet defenses around Leningrad, in October Stalin summoned Zhukov to Moscow, where he needed a fighter to halt the German juggernaut. Zhukov answered Stalin's call by planning and leading the victorious Soviet Moscow counteroffensives in winter 1942. Subsequently, in spring and summer 1942, he commanded Soviet forces along the Moscow axis. While the Germans were advancing on Stalingrad, Zhukov orchestrated several offensives against German forces in the central sector of the front, including a major attack on the Rzhev salient in August, which was a virtual rehearsal for Operation mars.

Based on his own strategic analysis and personal combat experiences, Zhukov believed in a "northern" strategy for winning the war. Frustrated over his failure to destroy German forces at Moscow in winter 1941-42 and in lesser operations during the German advance across southern Russia during 1942, Zhukov believed that the Soviet Union could best achieve strategic victory by smashing German forces along the Moscow axis. In short, Zhukov considered that German Army Group Center, whose forces were lodged in the Rzhev salient menacingly close to Moscow, posed the most serious threat to Moscow and the Soviet war effort In his view, the Rzhev salient, a legacy of the chaotic fighting of winter 1941-42, which measured 150 x 150 kilometers and which contained Army Group Center's powerful German Ninth Army, represented a dagger aimed at Moscow. Therefore, argued Zhukov, the Soviet Union could best achieve strategic victory in 1942 by smashing German Ninth Army in the salient and, thereafter, all of German Army Group Center.

From his earlier combat experiences, Zhukov well understood that this would be no easy task. General Walter Model's German Ninth Army had erected strong defenses around the salient and had fortified all cities and towns along the salient's periphery, including the key cities of Rzhev, Belyi, and Sychevka. The Germans had fortified the rivers flanking the salient and had cleared timber from the main north-south and east-west roads and rail lines which traversed the salient. Zhukov and Model both understood that whoever controlled the roads would control the salient. Although heavy forests and swamps dominated the terrain in the salient's western and central regions, the Germans had cleared sufficient terrain to permit both firm defense and the maneuver of mobile tactical and operational reserves within it. In addition, by late October, the dirt roads and many rivers criss-crossing the salient should be frozen or close to frozen.

Zhukov also realized that General Model would be a formidable opponent, for he too was a fighter. Model had delivered a stinging rebuff to Soviet forces in the region in winter 1941, and combat in 1942 provided Model's forces with a keen appreciation of literally every inch of terrain in the region. Nevertheless, Zhukov was convinced that his forces, together with the massive strategic reserves which the Stavka had assembled at near-frenzied pace in summer 1942, were strong enough to permit the Red Army to deliver two major, mutually supporting strategic counteroffensives, one, which he advocated, against German Army Group Center and the other, which others supported, against overextended German Army Group South at Stalingrad.

During the Stavka's deliberations, Zhukov emphasized Soviet force superiority in the decisive central sector of the front. Here the Soviet Kalinin and Western Fronts, supported by the Moscow Defense Zone, numbered almost 1,900,000 men with over 24,000 guns and mortars, 3,300 tanks, and 1,100 aircraft. On the other hand, in the southern Soviet Union, the 3 Soviet fronts in the Stalingrad region fielded over 1 million men with about 15,000 guns and mortars, 1,400 tanks, and over 900 aircraft. Admittedly, the Rumanian, Italian, and Hungarian forces deployed in the south added to German vulnerability, and their presence there undoubtedly improved Soviet chances for success. However, Zhukov argued, eradication of the German threat to Moscow would inevitably contribute to success in the south as well. Should either Soviet offensive falter, Stavka reserves could develop and exploit the other offensive. Stalin accepted Zhukov's recommendations, for he too still seethed over previous failures to defeat German Army Group Center.

On the evening of 26 September, the Generalissimo ordered major strategic counteroffensives be conducted at both Rzhev and Stalingrad. Appropriately, Zhukov would command the former, and his contemporary, General A. M. Vasilevsky, would command the latter. Vasilevsky, then Chief of the General Staff and Deputy Minister of Defense, was a penultimate staff officer and a prot‚g‚ of former Chief of the General Staff, marshal B. M. Shaposhnikov. At the outbreak of war, Vasilevsky had been chief of the General Staff's Operations Directorate, and, because of his obvious talents, he rose from colonel to colonel general in only four years. His wartime accomplishments as key General Staff planner and "fireman" in key operational sectors had won Stalin's confidence and appointment in July 1942 as Chief of the General Staff. Vasilevsky's calm demeanor and keen intelligence tended to moderate both Stalin's and Zhukov's excesses.

With Stalin's formal approval, the General Staff, Zhukov, and Vasilevsky planned the twin two-phased strategic offensives and assigned each of four planned operations with the code name of a planet. In Operation mars, planned to commence in late October, forces of the Kalinin and Western Fronts would encircle and destroy German Ninth Army in the Rzhev salient. Two to three weeks later, in Operation Jupiter, the Western Front's powerful 5th and 33rd Armies, supported by 3rd Guards Tank Army, would attack along the Viaz'ma axis, link up with the victorious mars' force, and envelop and destroy all German forces east of Smolensk. Vasilevsky's initial operation, code-named Uranus and tentatively timed for mid-November, was to envelop German Sixth Army in the Stalingrad region. In Operation Saturn, set to begin in early December, Vasilevsky's forces would seize Rostov, envelop German Army Group B, pin its remnants against the Sea of Azov, and cut off the withdrawal of German Army Group A from the Caucasus.

 The Stavka dispatched the directive for Operation mars to the Western and Kalinin Fronts on 28-29 September, and participating fronts issued orders to their armies on 1 October. Although the offensive was slated to begin on 28 October, rainy weather delayed the usual October freeze and forced postponement of the operation until late November, less than a week after Vasilevsky launched Operation Uranus. A revised Stavka directive, dispatched to Army General I. S. Konev's Western Front on 10 October, left the original objectives intact, stating: "The forces of the Western Front's right wing and Kalinin Front's left wing are to encircle the enemy Rzhev Grouping, capture Rzhev, and free the rail road line from Moscow to Velikie Luki." The directive required Western Front's 20th and 31st Armies, supported by 29th Army, to make the main attack against German defenses along the Osuga and Vazusa Rivers northeast of Sychevka. Once these armies had penetrated German tactical defenses, a cavalry-mechanized group (6th Tank and 2d Guards Cavalry Corps) was to exploit through 20th Army, capture Sychevka, roll up the German Rzhev defenses from the south, and link up with 41st Army forces attacking eastward from the Belyi region. 20th and 31st Armies would then mop up German forces in the salient in conjunction with supporting armies and prepare to attack southward toward Viaz'ma with 6th Tank and the fresh 5th Tank Corps.

Army General M. A. Purkaev's Kalinin Front was to conduct its main attack south of Belyi with 41st Army and along the Luchesa River north of Belyi with 22nd Army, while 39th Army, at the northern extremity of the Rzhev salient, would launch a secondary assault southward across the Molodoi Tud River toward Olenino. The crack Stalin 6th Volunteer Rifle Corps would spearhead 41st Army's attack. Once German defenses had been penetrated, 1st and 2nd Mechanized Corps would exploit eastward to link up west of Sychevka with 20th Army's cavalry-mechanized group. Kalinin Front's 22nd Army, spearheaded by 3rd Mechanized Corps, would advance eastward up the Luchesa River valley, pierce German defenses, assist in the capture of Belyi, and encircle German forces around Olenino in conjunction with 39th Army. After the main attacks had succeeded, other Soviet armies around the flaming circumference of the Rzhev salient would join the offensive, destroy German Ninth Army, and regroup to participate in Operation Jupiter.

In Operation Jupiter, Western Front's heavily reinforced 5th and 33rd Armies, deployed astride the Moscow-Viaz'ma road, would penetrate German defenses east of Viaz'ma. The 9th and 10th Tank Corps, followed by 3rd Guards Tank Army, would then exploit to capture Viaz'ma, link up with Kalinin Front forces, and, if possible, continue the attack toward Smolensk. To insure success the Stavka provided extraordinary armor, artillery, and engineer support for Zhukov's two attacking fronts. In fact, Zhukov's over 2,300 tanks and 10,000 guns and mortars exceeded the firepower the Stavka allocated to Vasilevsky to carry out Operation Uranus.

The long delay in the launch of the operation provided more than adequate time for Zhukov and the front commanders to assemble their imposing host and prepare the troops for combat. As usual, to insure the secrecy of the operation, troops were notified of the attack only days before it commenced. Typical of last minute preparations was this order to the 20th Army's 8th Guards Rifle Corps:

To the commanders of 8th Guards Rifle Corps formations.

20.11.42

…the corps orders:

1. Fully occupy jumping-off positions by dawn on 23.11.42 … Carefully conceal movement of personnel and equipment…

2. [Move] infantry in small groups and tanks, vehicles, and transport individually…

3. Eliminate squads and platoons made up of "nationals" [ethnic non-Russians] by dividing them up among subunits. For camouflage purposes, whitewash all guns and transporters…

4. During the day on 22.11.42 conduct study of the attack axes with command personnel....

5m…

a). Provide personnel with a chance for a good sleep and, without fail, feed [the troops] with warm food and distribute the required vodka norm before the attack…

b). Provide all personnel with a bath and a pair of clean clothes…

c). Obtain white camouflage overalls and felt boots…

8th Guards Rifle Corps chief of staff, Guards Colonel Posiakin

Chief of the corps' operation section, Guards Colonel Andrianov

The plan for Operation mars bore all the characteristics of a Zhukov-style offensive operation. To maximize pressure on the Germans, his forces would attack simultaneously in all sectors. By launching his main attacks against the base of the Rzhev salient from both east and west, Zhukov sought to envelop German forces in the salient with frontal assaults without having to conduct complex maneuver with his mobile forces across the difficult terrain and in the harsh weather conditions. To achieve quick success in his attack sectors, Zhukov ordered his front commanders to mass their forces and commit all of their armor early in the battle. By doing so, he hoped that the Soviet armored spearheads could sever vital German communications routes, the key road and rail lines along the flanks of the Rzhev salient. By late November the long-awaited cold weather finally arrived, and area rivers, streams, and swamps froze, thus permitting operations to commence. The ensuing constant snowy weather, however, hampered mobile operations, hindered artillery observation, and grounded supporting aircraft on both sides.

Zhukov's offensive began early on 25 November simultaneously against the eastern, western, and northern flanks of the German Rzhev salient. Preceded by vicious artillery preparation, infantry and supporting tanks of Western Front's 20th and 31st Armies' struck hard at the defensive positions of German XXXIX Panzer Corps along and north of the Vazusa and Osuga Rivers northeast of the vital German rail head of Sychevka. Although the Germans expected an attack soon, the assault caught the defenders at an awkward moment, when their 78th Infantry Division was in the midst of conducting a relief-in-place of 5th Panzer Division forces along the Vazusa. Numbering well over 200,000 men and 500 tanks, the 2 Soviet armies faced about 40,000 German defenders. Despite this numerical superiority and initial German confusion, the violent attack achieved only mixed results since German forces occupied strong defenses, and Soviet forces had to assault across generally open and rolling terrain at a time when incessant fog and driving snow showers reduced the effectiveness of the Soviet artillery preparation.

North of the Osuga River, the German 102nd Infantry Division successfully repelled repeated assaults by 20,000 infantry and over 100 tanks of 3 Soviet 31st Army divisions. Soviet infantry clad in winter white advanced in echelon, their ranks interspersed with supporting tanks. German artillery, machine guns, and small arms fire tore gaping holes in the ranks of the assaulting infantry as antitank weapons picked off the accompanying tanks. For three days and at a cost of more than half of their riflemen and most of their tanks,, the Soviets hurled themselves in vain at the 102nd Division's prepared defenses. Faced with this determined resistance, the 31st Army's assault collapsed, and, despite Zhukov's and Konev's exhortations, it could not be revived. Three 20th Army rifle divisions attacking between the Vazusa and Osuga Rivers met the same grisly fate. Despite strong armored support, their attacks stalled after suffering frightful losses. Undeterred by the initial failures, the carnage increased as Zhukov and Konev insisted the attacks continue to support operations further south.

To the south, along the banks of the frozen Vazusa River, a single rifle division of Major General N. I. Kiriukhin's 20th Army achieved signal, if limited success. Taking advantage of the Germans' temporary confusion, Major General G. D. Mukhin's 247th Rifle Division, supported by tank brigade of about 50 tanks, lunged across the frozen Vazusa River, tore through forward German positions, and seized 2 German fortified villages on the river's western bank. Exploiting the opportunity, General Kiriukhin quickly moved Colonel P. F. Berestov's 331st Rifle Division across the river and into the breach. Fierce fighting raged all day in the rolling open country west of the river as Soviet infantry struggled to overcome pesky German village strong points and expand the bridgehead. It was critical they do so, for Konev and Kiriukhin planned to commit their second echelon 8th Guards Rifle Corps and their mobile group, the 6th Tank and 2nd Guards Cavalry Corps, into the breach to enlarge the bridgehead and exploit the operation westward. All day, exhorting, cursing, and cajoling, Zhukov, Konev, and Kiriukhin urged their men on. By day's end, although the bridgehead was still too small, Konev decided to accept the risk and ordered Kiriukhin's second echelon and mobile group to advance the next morning.

This decision, however, turned out to be premature and ill-advised because the hard-pressed German forces offered stubborn and desperate resistance. Caught midst their complex regrouping, both 5th Panzer and 78th Infantry Division troops fought with grim abandon. Small ad hoc German combat groups [kampfgruppen] of infantry, tanks, and artillery in company and battalion strength fiercely defended their hedgehog defenses around the numerous log and stone villages that dotted the generally open, rolling, and snow-covered fields west of the Vazusa River. Attacking Soviet forces lapped around these defenses, overcame some, but left many as deadly obstacles strewn throughout their rear area. Beset by command, control, and communications problems, the German XXXIX Panzer Corps could not appreciate the chaos their fragmented resistance was causing in Soviet ranks. Nevertheless, the corps took desperate measures to shore up its sagging defenses and ordered its reserve 9th Panzer Division, then in camp west of Sychevka, to march to the sounds of the guns and plug the developing breeches.

The Soviet command also appreciated the gravity of the situation. On the night of 25-26 November, while Mukhin's and Berestov's riflemen strained to expand their tenuous bridgehead, Soviet second echelon and exploitation forces struggled forward. Under constant German artillery fire, over 200 tanks, 30,000 infantry, and 10,000 cavalrymen, with their accompanying logistical trains, moved inexorably forward through the murky darkness along 2 frozen dirt roads through the light forests to the east bank of the river. Since both roads had been unmercifully chopped up by artillery fire, and too many forces were using them at the same time, the consequences were predictable. Chaos ruled supreme. The reinforcing infantry and tanks of the 8th Guards Rifle Corps clogged the crossing sites over the Vazusa as harried front and army staff officers tried in vain to clear the way for the advancing armor and cavalry of 6th Tank and 2nd Guards Cavalry Corps. It was an impossible task. Although the rifle corps made it across the river, the tank and cavalry corps could not. It was mid-day on 26 November before the 170 tanks of Colonel P. M. Arman's tank corps could go into action, and the mounted troopers of Major General V. V. Kriukov's 2nd Guards Cavalry Corps remained east of the river until 27 November. To Zhukov's and Konev's utter frustration, offensive momentum was already flagging. Furthermore, reinforcing forces had already suffered light casualties and were disorganized after the chaotic night march.

The defending Germans experienced the full impact of Kiriukhin's assault on 27 November. While German reserves from the 9th Panzer Division maneuvered into blocking positions along the open terrain either side of the critical Rzhev-Sychevka road, German front-line forces desperately, but skillfully defended their fortified village strong points, severely disrupting the attempted Soviet armored and cavalry exploitation. After noon Colonel Arman's 6th Tank Corps, attacking in brigade columns of about 50 tanks each with infantry riding on the tanks, lunged between and, in some cases, over the German strong point defenses, followed on horseback by the troopers of 2nd Guards Cavalry Corps. The German fortified village defenses atomized the Soviet attack into fragments. Nevertheless, three of Colonel Arman's brigades ran the gauntlet and crossed the vital Rzhev-Sychevka road, while one could not. General Kriukov's more fragile cavalry suffered frightening losses as elements of three of his divisions raced through withering German fire across the road into the German rear, leaving the corps headquarters and logistical trains isolated in the small bridgehead far to the rear. The Germans responded by counterattacking from north and south along the Rzhev-Sychevka road against the exposed flanks of the exploiting Soviet forces. . All the while, reinforced Soviet infantry struggled painfully to expand the bridgehead against undiminished German resistance.

A German eyewitness account captured the ferocity of the action, writing that the commander of the 78th Infantry Division's 215th Grenadier Regiment:

…was ordered to gather all of the units in the threatened sector into one combat group under his command, to close the gap, and, while ignoring the enemy who had already broken through, to prevent further breakthroughs. In his sector, [he] was able to assemble around him, in a blocking position at Lopotok, the division training company and whatever assault guns and stragglers were available. As he was organizing them, about five Cossack squadrons galloped down upon them, trying to break out to the southeast. Everyone who had a weapon, whether infantryman, artilleryman, and even the assault guns and a light battery, engaged them in direct fire. By chance, a Ju 88 was circling over the village, discovered the Russians, and joined in battle with its bombs and on-board weapons. All of the Cossacks were killed by this conglomerate of fire...After this episode...he formed three sectors out of splinter groups and stragglers and actually succeeded in closing the gap and repulsing all attacks.

A Soviet account laconically confirmed the terrible carnage:

The commander of the 2nd Guards Cavalry Corps was not able to assign his divisions' penetration missions in timely fashion on 28 November and did not provide for their timely commitment into combat. Having received its mission in timely fashion and, while operating skillfully and decisively, two regiments of the 20th Cavalry Division successfully penetrated between enemy strong points , but, having been cut off from the main force, the third regiment was unsuccessful and suffered heavy losses.

Having received its penetration order two hours after the 20th Cavalry Division, the 3rd Guards Cavalry Division attacked an already prepared and alerted enemy, fell under his concentrated cross-fire, and suffered heavy losses, including almost all of its artillery and the entire 10th Guards Cavalry Regiment.

In two days of fierce fighting, the 5th Panzer Division had suffered over 500 casualties, and the 78th Infantry Division reported, "All units severely weakened and great losses in equipment and weapons." The cost to the Russians was obviously higher, for the Germans counted at least 50 destroyed Russian tanks, and the snow-covered fields in front of their positions were littered with brown-and white-clad Russian dead.

By nightfall on 28 November, it was clear to all that the Soviet attack had faltered. Although the bulk of Colonel Arman's tank corps and three of General Map 4 - Situation in the Sychevka sector, 28 November 1942.

Kriukov's cavalry divisions had reached the forests across the Rzhev-Sychevka road, the attrition in armor and cavalry had been staggering, and German counterattacks along the Rzhev road had slammed the door on their withdrawal. Worse still, the exploiting tankers and cavalrymen were no longer within the range of supporting artillery, since there was no room for it in the bridgehead. Zhukov and Konev, however, remained undeterred. They ordered their beleaguered tankers to organize a breakout to the west during the night of 28-29 November, while exhorting their forces in the bridgehead both to support the breakout and widen the breech in German lines. Zhukov's continued grim optimism was conditioned, in part, by his stubborn refusal to admit defeat and by the striking success Soviet forces seemed to be achieving to the west.

There, in the Belyi and Luchesa River sectors along the western flank of the Rzhev salient, Major General F. G. Tarasov's 41st and Major General V. A. Iushkevich's 22nd Armies had made striking progress in the first three days of battle and appeared close to reaching deep into the defending Germans' rear area. Once they had done so, thought Zhukov, the temporary difficulties along the Vazusa River would become irrelevant.

The 90,000 men and over 300 tanks of General Tarasov's 41st Army struck at 0900 hours on 25 November after an artillery preparation had smashed German forward defenses south of the fortified town of Belyi. Advancing in a driving snowstorm across the frozen, forested, and snow-covered swamps into the more open terrain along the main Belyi-Dukhovshchina dirt road which traversed the western flank of the salient, the riflemen of Major General I. I. Popov's 6th Stalin Volunteer Rifle Corps, supported by tank detachments from General M. D. Solomatin's 1st Mechanized Corps, easily overcame forward German defenses and lunged into the villages along the road and Vishenka River in the German tactical rear area.

Heartened by the first day's successes, at dawn the next day, General Tarasov ordered his entire mechanized corps into action. Marching in brigade column with his 65th and 219th Tank Brigades in the lead, the 15,200 man and 224 tank-strong 1st Mechanized Corps, commanded by the experienced General M. A. Solomatin, made spectacular initial progress. Moving painfully through the heavy and virtually roadless forests, by nightfall General Solomatin's tank force had torn a hole 20 kilometers wide and nearly 30 kilometers deep in the German defenses. His lead brigades proudly announced their arrival along the Belyi-Vladimirskoe road astride vital German communications routes into Belyi.

Solomatin later described the difficult advance, writing:

There were no roads which would permit free movement of transport vehicles. The enemy had destroyed all bridges during his withdrawal. The deep snow cover and poor visibility in the falling snow strongly inhibited movement. The corps had no special vehicles for clearing snowdrifts and constructing column routes. We employed T-34 tanks for that purpose. They traveled in echelon, one after the other, so as to blaze a trail for the infantry vehicles and the towed artillery. In some instances motorized infantry followed the tanks on foot, which exhausted them and limited any form of combat maneuver.

The absence of roads, the dense forest, and the poor visibility in snowfall made orientation on the ground difficult. The tank subunits, especially those in the in the lead, collided with one another. Advancing units often found themselves on the routes of their neighbor, which made it exceedingly difficult to control the force and slowed the rate of advance.

Despite the difficulty encountered in keeping some sort of order during the advance through the forest depths, Solomatin's tank brigades succeeded in reaching the key communications road linking Belyi with the German rear area.

The German XXXXI Panzer Corps intelligence report that evening recognized the gravity of the situation, accurately noting:

The Red Army... broke through in the sector of the 352nd Grenadier Regiment...on a front of 15-20 kilometers wide and to a depth of 30-40 kilometers. The first assault wave consisted of 22 Red infantry battalions, supported by up to 100 T-34 tanks. About 24 infantry battalions followed, supported by another 200 tanks to enlarge the breakthrough to the east and to tie up German forces on the autobahn.

The further news that "another 20 Red battalions and 100 tanks were attacking further north in the Lushesa valley," prompted a German commander to note that, "The situation in the Szytschewka-Rzhew-Belyi area was exciting enough."

Despite General Solomatin's seemingly dramatic success, the attack plans of General Tarasov's 41st Army almost immediately went awry. Although ordered to avoid a prolonged struggle for the city of Belyi, Tarasov was inexorably drawn to the enticing target. The success of the initial Soviet assault seemed to indicate that Belyi was available for the taking. Drawn like a magnet to the city, Tarasov first committed Colonel N. O. Gruz's 150th Rifle Division against the city's southern defenses, and, when they did not prevail, he reinforced Gruz's division with a mechanized brigade from Solomatin's exploiting mechanized corps. Despite Tarasov's exertions and fierce fighting on the southern approaches to the city, Belyi could not be taken.

The credit for defending Belyi belonged to the commander of German XXXXI Panzer Corps, Colonel General Joseph Harpe, who decided to hold the city and relied on fate, luck, and anticipated German operational reserves to save the situation in the German rear. Harpe directed the infantry of his 246th Infantry Division to establish a strong point defense south of the city. He then requested and received a kampfgruppe each from Panzer Grenadier Division Grossdeutschland and 1st Panzer Division, which were located in reserve positions northeast and southwest of Belyi, respectively. Racing forward across the frozen snow-covered roads, 1st Panzer Division's Kampfgruppe von Weitersheim reached Belyi on late morning of 26 November, and Grossdeutschland Division's Kampfgruppe Kassnitz arrived several hours later. Together, the two groups began a bloody, but successful struggle to hold the city.

Meanwhile, an increasingly frustrated General Solomatin attempted to sever the crucial Belyi-Vladimirskoe road running northwest into Belyi, which was the only available German resupply route into the city. Now opposed by company and battalion combat groups from 1st Panzer Division, which were deployed along and forward of the critical supply artery, Solomatin urgently asked Tarasov to reinforce his flagging attack with two mechanized brigades in army reserve. However, after demurring for a day, on 28 November Tarasov denied Solomatin's request and instead committed his two reserve brigades to the battle for Belyi. Colonel I. F. Dremov's fresh 47th Mechanized Brigade attacked northward east of Belyi in yet another attempt to envelop the city. Although Dremov's brigade severed the Belyi-Vladimirovka road, it ended up unsupported in an exposed position northeast of the city. All the while, Solomatin's overextended mechanized force fought a bitter day-long struggle along a 30 kilometer sector of the key Belyi-Vladimirovskoe road. Solomatin's frustration increased when, on 29 November, his forward forces announced the arrival of fresh German armored reserves. Solomatin then knew what Tarasov did not. The fortunes of battle were clearly turning, and initial Soviet success had been squandered in the futile battle for Belyi. Consequently, Solomatin consolidated his positions, went over to the defense, and awaited the German counterstroke, which he knew was inevitable.

Solomatin was correct. The fresh German forces were the advanced elements of a force which General Harpe was frantically assembling to contain and, ultimately, defeat the Soviet offensive. Relying on 1st Panzer Division to hold the Belyi strong point and the thin defenses along the Belyi-Vladimirskoe road, Harpe requested all available reserves from higher headquarters. General Alfred Model, the Ninth Army commander, and Field marshal Guenther von Kluge, the Army Group Center commander, responded quickly by ordering the 12th, 20th, and 19th Panzer Divisions to march to the sound of the guns. To reach the battlefield, however, these divisions had to march long distances over difficult routes in the harshest of winter conditions. Until they arrived, both XXXXI Panzer Corps and Ninth Army's fate hung in the balance.

Model at Ninth Army had other worries. Although the situation along the Vazusa River seemed to be under control, further north his front lines along the Luchesa River had been breached, and his defensive positions along the Molodoi Tud River were under assault and seriously sagging. German headquarters across the front were also transfixed by the great battle playing out around Stalingrad. The knowledge that all was not well at Stalingrad lent urgency to their grim task.

Model's growing concern was justified. Early on 25 November, General Iushkevich's 22nd Army, with over 50,000 men and 270 tanks of Major General M. E. Katukov's 3rd Mechanized Corps, assaulted eastward up the Luchesa River valley. Attacking along a narrow corridor flanked by forests and frozen swamps, Soviet forces tore a gaping hole through German defenses and drove German forces eastward up the valley. General Iushkevich's attack was spearheaded by Colonel I. V. Karpov's 238th Rifle Division and two regiments of Colonel M. F. Andriushenko's 185th Rifle Division, supported by a tank brigade of General Katukov's mechanized corps. The combined force routed a regiment of the German 86th Infantry Division and punctured the German front at the junction of the XXXXI Panzer Corps' 86th Infantry and the XXIII Army Corps' 110th Infantry Division. During the next two days Iushkevich committed Katukov's full corps and drove German forces further up the valley.

The German XXIII Army Corps responded by committing Grossdeutschland Division's Grenadier Regiment into the fray to slow the Soviet advance. Heavy fighting raged for possession of the key village of Starukhi as Soviet forces drove inexorably toward the Olenino-Belyi road in an attempt to support 41st Army's advance further south. Although the Germans were unable to close the yawning gap created by 22nd Army's attack, the often impenetrable terrain, deteriorating weather, and skillful German defense took a heavy toll on the advancing Soviets and halted them short of their goal. By 30 November the Soviets occupied a salient 8 kilometers wide and almost 15 kilometers deep in the German defenses. But, try as they did, Iushkevich's army could not overcome German resistance and reach the key Olenino-Belyi road.

A German participant later recorded the ferocity of the fighting, stating, "It was indescribable, what the infantrymen, engineers, the artillerymen, and the forward observers had to endure in the snow and ice of the forward combat line. Alert units had to be formed from convoy and supply units to close some of the developing gaps." Another remarked, "There were attacks everywhere!. Crises rose by the hours!." Nevertheless, the German defenses bent but did not break.

The tense situation along the Luchesa River was only exacerbated by unrelenting Soviet pressure against the northern extremity of the German Rzhev salient. There, on a broad front along the Molodoi Tud River, on 25 November the 80,000 men and over 200 tanks of Major General A. I. Zygin's Soviet 39th Army launched Zhukov's secondary attack with three rifle divisions and several rifle brigades, supported by two tank brigades and three separate tank regiments. Since Zygin's attack was intended to be secondary, he was unable to exploit several opportunities for success which arose on the first day of combat. Although Soviet forces achieved some initial success in the snow-covered, rolling, and partially wooded countryside, they were unable to exploit it because of skillful action by German tactical reserves from the 14th Motorized Division and the Grossdeutschland Division's Grenadier Regiment.

By 30 November this struggle too had degenerated into a series of grinding Soviet attacks, which achieved only limited gains. The German XXIII Army Corps' defending 206th Infantry and 14th Motorized Divisions were forced to conduct some tactical withdrawals but, nevertheless, maintained a continuous defense line, which denied General Zygin's forces access to their objective, the Olenino-Rzhev road and rail line.

Zhukov, Konev, and Purkaev alternated between elation and frustration over the results of the first five days of operations. The Western Front's main attack in the Sychevka sector had clearly faltered. Although 20th Army's infantry had secured a foothold over the Vazusa River and its mobile forces occupied precarious positions astride the critical Rzhev-Sychevka road, the 31st Army's attack had utterly failed, and the 29th Army had not yet joined the assault. Nevertheless, both the 41st and 22nd Armies had made significant gains, and Konev still had significant reserves, including the almost 200 tanks of the 5th Tank Corps , which he could commit in the 20th Army's sector. Consequently, on Zhukov's instructions Konev reinforced the 20th Army with the 31st Army reserve divisions and ordered Kiriukhin to withdraw his exploiting armor and cavalry from their exposed position west of the Rzhev-Sychevka road. After regrouping, Kiriukhin was to continue his assault. Meanwhile, General Purkaev's two Kalinin Front armies west of the Rzhev salient would develop their attacks in support of the 20th Army. What Zhukov did not know was that the German command was preparing to strike back in the very sector where Zhukov's forces had achieved their greatest success.

Having failed to exploit their opportunities west of the Rzhev-Sychevka road and now starved of ammunition and logistical support, Colonel Arman's 6th Tank Corps and cooperating cavalry had no choice but to attempt a breakout to the east. On the night of 29-30 November, the force launched a desperate breakout attempt in coordination with fierce Soviet attacks from within the Vazusa River bridgehead. In bitter and chaotic fighting which cost Arman nearly all of his remaining 100 tanks, the bulk of the corps' personnel broke out of encirclement. The more fragile cavalry fared even worse and were mercilessly slaughtered by withering German fire. Many of the cavalrymen made it out of the encirclement, but some did not. The Tadzhik cavalrymen of Colonel Kursakov's 20th Cavalry Division could not, and for weeks they fought alongside Soviet partisans within the salient before the remnants of the force finally reached Soviet lines in the Luchesa River valley in early January.

A German eyewitness of the costly breakout recorded that, at day's end, "The battlefield was spotted with dead and wounded, a view which the oldest veteran cannot forget." The Soviet 6th Tank Corps commander reported, "Tens of our soldiers suffered heroic deaths in this heavy combat, among whom were the commanders of the 200th Tank Brigade and 6th Motorized Rifle Brigade...who died leading the attack." The intense combat took its toll on the Germans, as described by a 5th Panzer Division participant, who wrote:

Again, a heavy day of fighting had come to an end. All enemy attacks had been repulsed. But there was no doubt that the limits of our soldiers' load-bearing capability had been reached, and, in many cases, it had already been exceeded. The kampfgruppe [combat group] leaders reported that soon there would be complete apathy perceptible in soldiers of all ranks due to the severe over stress caused by the lack of sleep, severe cold, insufficient supplies and incessant combat activity.

Zhukov was bitterly disappointed. General Kiriukhin's 20th Army had lost over 30,000 men and 200 tanks in 5 days of vicious combat. Losses in the 31st Army were just as severe, and little had been gained by the effort. Even more disconcerting, on the west side of the salient, the 41st Army's seemingly certain victory soon degenerated into catastrophic rout, and 22nd Army soon faced frustrating stalemate.

South of Belyi, General Solomatin's worst fears materialized. Not only were the Germans able to hold on to Belyi, but they were also able to orchestrate an effective counterstroke. The situation began deteriorating after 1 December, after Solomatin had shortened his corps' front and gone on the defense. First, between 2 and 6 December, the German XXXXI Panzer Corps' 1st Panzer Division and the newly arrived 12th Panzer Division regained firm control of the Belyi-Vladimirskoe road, cut off and destroyed Colonel Dremov's isolated 47th Mechanized Brigade northeast of Belyi, and began applying unremitting pressure to Solomatin's defense lines southeast of the city. Even more devastating for the Soviets, the German XXX Army Corps, with the 19th and 20th Panzer Divisions, began concentrating south of the Soviet Belyi salient. It was no mean task, since every German movement was contested by the terrible weather conditions, the abysmal roads, and intense resistance by Soviet partisans. Despite these difficulties, by 6 December XXX Corps units were in a position to strike back at the Soviet 41st Army. They did so on the morning of 7 December against the 41st Army's southern flank, while the 1st Panzer Division and the Grossdeutschland Division's Fusilier Regiment attacked southward from Belyi.

In three days of intense fighting, the combined German force slashed through the 41st Army's rear area and encircled the bulk of Tarasov's army southeast of Belyi. The glorious Soviet thrust had degenerated into an inglorious trap. General Solomatin, who was assigned command of all encircled Soviet forces, did what he could to organize a breakout, but all initial attempts to escape failed. Abandoned by his army commander, Solomatin ordered the troops of his and Colonel Popov's 6th Rifle Corp to dig in, organize all-round defense, and wait until help could reach them.

Soviet progress further north in the Luchesa River valley promised no relief. Despite strenuous efforts, General Iushkevich's forces in that sector could achieve little more. Having lost about half of its initial manpower and even more of its tanks, his 22nd Army lacked the strength to expand its sizable penetration. Nor could the Germans eliminate it. Although intense fighting ebbed and flowed for days, the stalemate endured. Further north, General Zygin's 39th Army continued its slow progress at the northern apex of the Rzhev salient against stout German resistance with little prospect for significant victory.

Zhukov responded to the depressing news from the Belyi sector with characteristic resolution. Unwilling to admit defeat, he orchestrated a massive build-up of forces in the 20th Army's sector along the Vazusa River. Between 2 and 10 December, he reinforced Kiriukhin's army with the fresh 5th Tank Corps and with several divisions transferred from the 31st Army, he hastily reconstituted Colonel Arman's 6th Tank Corps with tanks received from the Stavka reserve, and he reinforced Lieutenant General M. S. Khozin's adjacent 29th Army to twice its original strength. While the fighting raged on at Belyi, Zhukov ordered the 20th and 29th Armies to resume their assaults on 11 December in concert with a fresh drive in the north by General Zygin's 39th Army, which he reinforced with a stream of divisions from the 30th Army in the Rzhev sector.

The new act in the developing drama began playing out in the Vazusa River bridgehead on the morning of 11 December. At 1010 hours massed Soviet infantry from the 20th and 29th Armies, supported by all remaining infantry support tanks, resumed their attacks from and south of the Vazusa River bridgehead. Despite withering German fire, Konev and Kiriukhin committed the almost 350 tanks and 20,000 men of his new 5th and refurbished 6th Tank Corps into combat. So hastily organized was the attack that many of the new tanks had not received their coat of white camouflage paint. Attacking with abandon across a 4-kilometer sector into the teeth of reinforced German antitank defenses, the desperate assault cost Soviet 20th Army about 300 tanks lost in 2 days of incessant and deadly combat. A Soviet 5th Tank Corps account captured the grim and futile nature of the combat:

A rocket rising into the air signaled the attack. All those around came to life. The cries of "Forward!" and "For the Fatherland!" resounded across the field. It was 1010 hours on 11 December 1942. The first to rush forward were the regiments of the 20th Army's 243d and 247th Rifle Divisions. Soon, however, their forward ranks were forced to take cover against the heavy enemy fire. A fierce, bloody battle began, which lasted all day.

The attack misfired almost along the entire extent of the penetration front. Then, the brigades of the 5th Tank Corps were committed into battle. They began literally to chew their way through the enemy defense. The tank assaults gave way to furious enemy counterattacks. Individual heights and the most key positions changed hands several times. The entire battlefield was covered with destroyed and burning tanks and smashed guns—both sides suffered heavy losses.

Although the carnage was frightful in the attack sectors of both the 20th and 29th Armies, Zhukov and Konev urged their forces on. The assaults continued for three days before collapsing in utter exhaustion on 15 December. . The German Ninth Army's situation report for 15 December recorded the last agonies of the Soviet 20th Army, stating:

…along the eastern front, the enemy has once again launched a large-scale attack. Disappointed by failure in all front sectors and with an almost limitless application of force, the enemy wanted, once more, to try to find a weakness on the eastern front and force a decision. This attack was spearheaded by even greater massed use of tanks. Executed in a narrow area..., he tried to collapse our front with superior human efforts. However, in such a short period and in such a narrow region, it caused enemy tank losses that exceeded those of the heavy tank battles at Rzhev during the summer. Within 48 hours 300 tanks were shot up in a sector only 4 kilometers wide.

By that time, all from the lowliest private to Zhukov himself realized that defeat was at hand. If the carnage along the Vazusa River did not confirm that reality, then the fate of Solomatin's force at Belyi would.

The 41st Army's encircled force of about 40,000 men commanded by General Solomatin held out southeast of Belyi for as long as humanly possible. Finally, the absence of any support from the 41st Army, the unrelenting pressure by the four encircling German panzer divisions, and the dwindling logistical stocks forced Solomatin to act, lest his isolated force be entirely destroyed. Solomatin orchestrated his breakout on the night of 15-16 December. Shrinking his perimeter defense, he destroyed his remaining armor and heavy weapons and thrust westward with his remaining infantry. Running the fiery gauntlet, Solomatin saved what he could of his corps and the accompanying forces of Popov's 6th Rifle Corps. The cost, however, was devastating. The German 1st Panzer Division alone counted over 102 Soviet armored vehicles destroyed, and Solomatin reported over 8, 000 of his 12,000 troopers killed and wounded and most of the corps' over 200 tanks destroyed or abandoned. The toll in the remainder of Tarasov's 41st Army was equally grim, totaling over 200 tanks and 10s of 1,000s of riflemen.

Even the twin catastrophic Soviet defeats along the Vazusa River and at Belyi did not totally destroy Zhukov's resolve, for, despite being thwarted on the flanks of the Rzhev salient, Zhukov continued to attack with the 39th Army in the north until mid-December. Despite Zhukov's stubborn defiance of reality, by 15 December Operation mars was a shambles. Stalin, the Stavka, and perhaps even Zhukov himself knew well that mars was at an end. Furthermore, long before, Stalin had abandoned any hopes of launching Operation Jupiter. By early December 1942 the bulk of Stavka reserves were already en route southward to reinforce Vasilevsky's successful Operation Uranus at Stalingrad.

Zhukov conducted Operation mars in characteristic fashion. The Soviet assaults were massive and unsparing in manpower and material. Discounting the harsh terrain and weather conditions, he relied on pressure across the entire front and simple maneuver by his powerful mechanized corps and tank corps to achieve victory. Neither did. Skillful German tactical defense by relatively small but tenacious combat groups, which exploited terrain and man-made obstacles to maximum, bottled up attacking Soviet mobile forces before they reached key objectives in the German operational rear area. In the process the Germans inflicted maximum Soviet casualties by separating attacking Soviet infantry from their supporting mobile forces. Avoiding panic and holding only where necessary, the German command slowly assembled the reserves necessary to counterattack and achieve victory. Nevertheless, German victory was a "close thing." While causing catastrophic Soviet casualties, the German divisions themselves were fought to a frazzle. It was no coincidence that several months later Model asked for and received permission to abandon the Rzhev salient. He and his army could ill afford another such victory.

Operation Mars cost the Red Army nearly half a million men killed, wounded, or captured. Individual Soviet combat units were decimated in the operation. The Soviet 20th Army lost 58,524 men out of its original strength of over 114,000 men. General Solomatin's 1st Mechanized Corps lost 8,100 of its 12,000 men and all of its 220 tanks, and the accompanying 6th Stalin Rifle Corps lost over 20,000 of its 30,000 men. At lower levels the cost was even higher. The 8th Guards Rifle Corp's 26th Guards Rifle Division emerged from combat with 500 of its over 7,000 combat infantrymen intact, while the 4,500 man 148th and 150th Rifle Brigades had only 27 and 110 "fighters," respectively, available at the end of the operation.

Soviet tank losses, correctly estimated by the Germans as around 1,700, were equally staggering, in as much as they exceeded the total number of tanks the Soviets initially committed in Operation Uranus at Stalingrad. In Western armies losses such as these would have prompted the removal of senior commanders, if not worse. In the Red Army it did not, for when all was said and done, Zhukov fought, and the Red Army needed fighters.

Although far less severe than those of the Soviets, the Germans too suffered grievous losses in the operation, losses which they could ill afford given their smaller manpower pool and the catastrophe befalling them at Stalingrad. For example, the 1st Panzer Division suffered 1,793 casualties, and the 5th Panzer 1,640, while losses in the infantry divisions (the 78th, 246th, 86th, 110th, and 206th) along the Soviet main attack axes were even greater. The overall Soviet casualty toll, however, was at least 10-fold greater that the total German loss of around 40,000 men.

Zhukov said little about the defeat on his memoirs, and what he did say was grossly distorted. He mentioned only the December operation, and, without revealing its code name, he called it simply a diversion for the Operation Uranus. Among the many thousands of Soviet memoirs and unit histories, only a handful mention the operation, and these do so without revealing its full scope. Even formerly classified accounts avoid covering the operation in its entirety. Archival materials, however, do cover the operation in greater detail, but only in selective sectors.

In assessing blame for the failure, none of the few available Soviet accounts mention the role of key commanders such as Zhukov or Konev. For example, General Getman, commander of the 6th Tank Corps, who was ill in November and did not participate in the attack, wrote:

The offensive was conducted against fortified positions occupied by enemy tank forces and in swampy-forested terrain in complex and unfavorable weather conditions. These and other conditions favored the enemy. We lacked the required coordination with the infantry and reliable artillery and aviation support. The organized suppression of enemy strong points was inadequate, especially his antitank means by artillery fire and aviation strikes. This led to the tank brigades suffering great losses.

Other formerly classified Soviet sources and archival materials candidly critiqued the problems, and German reports echoed those critiques. A 15 December German Ninth Army report judged that the Russian operation had sustained a heavy defeat and "bled itself out," adding:

The enemy leadership, which demonstrated skill and adaptability in the preparation and initial implementation of the offensive, ... once again displayed its old weaknesses as the operation progressed. Indeed, the enemy has learned much, but he has again shown himself to be unable to exploit critical unfavorable situations. The picture repeats itself when operations which began with great intent and local successes degenerated into senseless, wild hammering at fixed front-line positions once they encounter initial heavy losses and unforeseen situations. This incomprehensible phenomenon appears again and again. But, even in extremis, the Russian is never logical; he falls back on his natural instinct, and the nature of the Russian is to use mass, steamroller tactics, and adherence to given objectives without regard to changing situations.

The manner in which Operation mars was fought and the carnage the operation produced has few parallels in the later war years. In its grisly form, its closest peer was the famous Soviet frontal assault on the Zeelow Heights during the April 1945 Berlin operation. Not coincidentally, it too was orchestrated by Zhukov. Unlike the case in 1942, however, the victorious conclusion of the Berlin operation required no alteration of the historical record to preserve Soviet pride or commanders' reputations.

The legacy of Operation mars was silence. Stalin and history mandated that Vasilevsky's feat at Stalingrad remained unblemished by the Rzhev failure. Stalin recognized Zhukov's greatest quality—that he fought—and, at this stage of the war and later, Stalin needed fighters. Therefore, Zhukov's reputation remained intact. Stalin and Soviet history mandated that he share credit with Vasilevsky for the Stalingrad victory. Zhukov gained a measure of revenge over German Army Group Center at Kursk in summer 1943 and in Belorussia in summer 1944. Ironically, however, it would be Vasilevsky who, as key Stavka planner, would play an instrumental role in finally crushing that German Army Group in East Prussia in January 1945. Such is the fickleness of history.

Soviet military history ignored other notable Soviet defeats during the later war years. Among those notable operations, which, like mars, endured obscurity and silence, were the failed Soviet Central Front offensive of February-March 1943 in the region west of Kursk, the abortive Soviet Belorussian offensive of fall 1943, and futile Soviet attempts to invade Rumania in May 1944 and East Prussia in fall 1944. This silence was possible because each of these defeats occurred at the end of a major Soviet strategic advance, when victorious context masked the failure to vanquished Germans and history alike and shrouded the events in a cloak of anonymity, which has endured for more than fifty years. That cloak is finally being lifted.

Operation Mars, 25 November-21 December 1942.

German forces fighting in the town of Belyi during Operation Mars.

General Georgi Zhukov in 1941.

Field Marshal Georgi K. Zhukov, Red Army.

German soldiers move past a Russian building completely engulfed in flames during Operation Mars.

Collective farmers from the Moscow suburbs handing over tanks manufactured on their money to Soviet servicemen.

Field Marshal Gunther von Kluge.

Troops of 2nd Luftwaffe Field Division in Operation Mars.

Troops of 2nd Luftwaffe Field Division in Operation Mars.

Soviet Il-2 Sturmoviks during Operation Mars.

Soviet partisans caught and hanged after Operation Mars.

 

Deadly Gadgets of the OSS: When Uncle Sam Played Dirty in World War II

OSS Time Pencil Fuze.

by Stanley P. Lovell

"I'm Colonel Donovan, Dr. Lovell. You know your Sherlock Holmes, of course. Professor Moriarty is the man I want for the OSS. You're it. I need every device and underhanded trick to use against the Germans and Japanese—by our own people, but especially by the underground in occupied countries. You will have to invent them."

I had never met a man of such magnetism. I heard myself say, "I will."

As soon as I could, I looked up references to the fictional Professor Moriarty. Most of them were discouraging to a chemist called to play the role. "Famous scientific criminal"—well! "The organizer of every deviltry." Come! Come!

I moved into a small office down by a brewery. My title: Director of Research and Development, OSS.

The first job was a plant for documentation. Spies or saboteurs would have short shrift unless they had perfect passports, ration books, and money to confirm their assumed status. These are the little things upon which the life of the agent depends. But enemy documents had security built into them, just so no one could imitate them. The paper contained special fibers, invisible inks, and trick watermarks so counterintelligence could expose a forged document.

Philippine money proved the toughest because the fibers were kudsu and mitsumata, to be found only in Japan. No substitute would give the "feel."

I learned that Japanese paper existed in the United States. We could rework it into currency. However, were we to buy it, someone would reason that we wanted it for counterfeit Japanese money. I turned to James Byrnes, then assistant to the President. How he did it I'll never know, but within a week the entire lot of Japanese paper was in a warehouse available to us only.

And in the nick of time. General MacArthur sent word that currency was vital in the Philippines. It was extremely difficult to manufacture the money, even with the proper fibers. The "banana-tree" engraving was most intricate, and there were several color engravings.

Even more baffling, Japanese money in the Philippines was overstamped to identify the district in which, alone, it was valid. This was an ingenious method of controlling travel. If a bill marked 'Davao' were offered in Manila, its possessor was forced to explain what he was doing in Manila. Each Filipino was frozen in his town.

We engraved money sufficient to fill a cargo plane, all overstamped in direct proportion to the population census. The fibers were crisp kudzu and mitsumata, the inks had identical fluorescence under ultraviolet light, and all secret marks were exactly duplicated. These bills would pass everywhere. The Japanese never realized that the OSS utterly destroyed their population currency control in the islands.

In Java and Sumatra little resistance could be encouraged with bribes of Japanese occupation currency. The money for which the Indonesians would do anything was the Maria Theresa thaler, a coin about the size of a 25-cent piece.

Accompanying this information was a note saying, "Nothing to be done: the last Maria Theresa thalers were made in 1870."

We located two or three authentic thalers from collectors. We studied the metal on an alloy-analyzing machine. Silver wasn't hard to get.

We made an excellent mold. The molten metal was poured, cooled, the flash trimmed off, and there were as fine thalers as Maria Theresa had ever seen. My group was not enthusiastic. They all felt a counterfeit of cheaper alloy would be more in their line. It was the most honest job we ever did.

I was not able to follow Maria Theresa beyond the shipping door. Did she contribute to the overthrow of the Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere or was she added to the secret hoard of rascally Sumatrans? I'll never know.

A spy must never have a weapon. His job is to collect and transmit information. The transmission of information was a whole study itself.

One device originated when a spy told me he was all but trapped in the Adlon Hotel in Berlin. "I would have given anything," he said, "if I could have created a panic in that lobby."

My answer was "Hedy," a firecracker device which simulated the screeching of a falling bomb and then ended in a deafening roar—all completely harmless. By activating Hedy the agent could escape in the turmoil.

One day the Joint Chiefs of Staff asked me to demonstrate our devices. I showed booby traps, our derailing system, incendiaries—and Hedy. As I spoke I activated one casually in a wastebasket. Hedy interrupted, shrieking. Then came the bang. I saw generals clawing to get out the single door. We were never again invited before the Joint Chiefs.

Unlike the spy, the saboteur is a man of violence. He must harass the enemy. One way is to derail a train. This is easy, we thought: take out one rail and the train falls over. Unfortunately, it doesn't work.

Perhaps the perfect weapon for derailment was "Casey Jones." It consisted of a permanent magnet on a box. This magnet was to stick the box to the underside of railway cars. From the box an electric eye looked down on the track. Our electric eye was not affected by a gradual diminution of light, such as nightfall, but only by a sudden cutting off of light when a train entered a tunnel. This activated it instantly, and an explosive would blow a wheel off the car.

The resistance put Casey Jones first on repair trains. After that, men, women, and children placed them on any rolling stock.

A long line of cars would wind into a tunnel. Explosion and derailment followed. When the repair train crawled in, it, too, was derailed in the cramped tunnel. Now both wrecks had to be worked on by hand, and the through line was blocked for a long time.

Every Casey Jones had a decal in German: "This is a Car Movement Control Device. Removal is strictly forbidden by the Third Reich Railroad Consortium. Heil Hitler."

To attack an enemy automobile or tank, one could take two approaches—the fuel tank or the oil system.

The attack on the fuel tank was solved by "Firefly," a small plastic cylinder easily palmed by a filling-station attendant. It contained explosive which fired after the gasoline had swelled a rubber ring. This took hours, so the German vehicle was far away.

Fireflies were rushed to the French underground for the landings at Marseille. Two German divisions, ordered to repulse this attack, proceeded down the highways. All gasoline pumps en route were staffed by the Resistance. As the attendant inserted his hose in the filler pipe, he dropped a little Firefly into it.

The results were dramatic. Along the highways, off in fields, or smack in the roadway were abandoned vehicles. The success of the Marseille landings owed much to little Firefly.

The oil system was harder. All the time-honored tricks failed. Sugar? No result. Sand? Dirt? A little scoring of pistons, but the engine kept running. We tried fifty additives until my respect for the standard six-cylinder engine almost overcame any further work to destroy it.

A Harvard scientist suggested a compound to be put up in a small rubber sack and dropped through the breather pipe. After heat opened the rubber container, his compound became a dispersion. This hit the small mechanical tolerances of the bearings, and all seized simultaneously. The cylinder head burst into shrapnel.

Simple weapons were best. Suppose you knew a French girl who had access to a German officer's room. You'd give her your candle to replace his. It would burn perfectly until the flame touched the high explosive composing the lower two-thirds of the candle. The burst was as effective as a hand grenade.

The simplest weapon we made was a three-inch piece of steel so shaped that, however it fell, there were three prongs pointing downward and one erect. Thrown on a highway, it would cause a blowout. Too small for the driver to see as he bowled down the road, it destroyed any tire that ran over it.

One weapon the Germans or Japanese never did discover. Only the United States uniforms had a small "fob" pocket over the right hip. No enemy searching our people looked there. We evolved a gun to fit. The "Stinger" was a three-inch-by-half-inch little tube, innocent looking as a golfer's stub pencil. The tube held a .22 over-loaded cartridge. It was cocked by lifting a lever on the tube with the fingernail. Squeezing the lever down fired it.

One agent was picked up by the Gestapo. They frisked him and found no weapon, but put him in a staff car, in the back seat. En route to German headquarters for interrogation, the officer got out to telephone ahead. Our agent, left alone with the chauffeur, took out the overlooked Stinger, cocked it, held it near the back of the driver's head and fired. He pushed the body to one side, took the wheel, and drove to the American lines.

The Stinger not only saved the man's life but allowed our planes to destroy the German headquarters. By telling the driver what route to take, the officer had unwittingly given the OSS man priceless information.

Another simple weapon, the pull-type booby trap, had infinite applications. It was very effective against trains, for instance. A heavy bomb, called a "Spigot Mortar" was screwed into a tree on one side of a track. A wire crossed the track tautly fixed to a tree on the other side. The railroads had corps of trackwalkers, but our wire was over their heads and they were looking down. When the enemy train came along, the stack pulled the wire, and the bomb hit the engine and bowled it over.

One of our achievements was a high explosive that would act like ordinary flour, arousing no suspicion. It had almost the effect of TNT, but could be wet, kneaded into dough, raised, and actually baked into bread. I called it "Aunt Jemima."

We made Chinese flour bags and sent them, properly stenciled, to Chungking. Bags of this camouflaged explosive were laid against a bridge over the Yangtze River, destroying it completely.

My personal troubles with Aunt Jemima began when I found about 100 pounds in my office. I telephoned an expert to come take it away. He said, "Flush it down the toilet." It took some time to do that. When I returned to my desk the expert's boss was on the phone. "Don't flush that explosive down the toilet. The organic matter in the sewer will react with it and blow Washington sky-high."

I thanked him as calmly as I could. There was no point in his worrying, too. The sewer ran from our offices to the White House.

Every truck that backfired, every door that slammed, raised the hackles on our necks. In the morning we decided that the War College might blow up, but that the White House was safe. We knew, because we stood at its gates at sunrise.

A special weapon of the saboteur is the "Limpet," named after a shellfish which adheres to rocks. By means of a magnet or rivets, the Limpet anchors to a ship below the waterline. It holds a few pounds of high explosive. Although the hole it opens in the side of the ship is small, the result is devastating. The ship is promptly sunk because the recoil of the ocean upon that hole opens it up to a 20-foot aperture.

Our saboteur puts the Limpet against the ship's side with a long pole. Withdrawing the pole activates the tiny explosive. A magnesium window in the Limpet is slowly etched away by salt water and after several hours the explosion takes place.

In 1944 the Norwegian underground advised that the Germans might withdraw their army of occupation, and they needed Limpets to put on German troopships. The Torpex explosive we used was in Nebraska. Express, parcel post, railroads, or airlines were out. An Army captain and a sergeant offered to get it if I would provide an automobile. I gave them my own car and they were off. Their drive from Nebraska to Washington was an epic. The load of sensitive explosive weighed the small car down.

Were they to be stopped by police and their illegal load given publicity, the whole venture would have had to be abandoned. I thought of our Documentation Branch. Our letter, typed on White House stationery said:

"Captain Frazee and Sergeant Walker are on a secret mission for me as Commander-in-Chief. Any assistance given these officers will be helping to win the war. Any interference with their vital mission will be followed by disciplinary action. This is a Top Secret operation."

Franklin D. Roosevelt would have sworn that he had signed it.

Twice my men were stopped by local police and twice this letter evoked abject apologies.

The vital load was transported to Norway and encased in Limpets by the underground. Our timing was perfect. The Germans were recalling troops from Oslo, Stavanger, and Narvik. The British said that when Hitler most needed reinforcements to defend 'Festung Europa,' the fjords were in possession of many sunken German ships, with troops caught in that watery graveyard. The little Limpets from Nebraska had fulfilled their mission.

Some problems could not be solved. One was "Simultaneous Events," a means of activating high explosives that would be unaffected by any outside source except an air raid. The operator could secretly plant his explosives. Nothing would happen until an air raid. The target would blow up and the blast would be blamed on the airplane bombings. This would furnish an ideal alibi for the underground operator. Also, he could pinpoint the damage where it would hurt most.

We approached it from two angles; one was ground shock of a raid, the other a radio signal to be sent from the bombers. Nothing we invented passed our trials. The ground-shock devices would detonate prematurely from a passing truck. The radio signal depended on batteries, as well as an objectionable antenna. When Germany surrendered we were still working on Simultaneous Events.

My favorite attack on Hitler was a glandular approach. Gland experts agreed that he was close to the male-female line. A push to the female side might make his mustache fall out and his voice become soprano.

Hitler was a vegetarian. At Berchtesgaden, the vegetables had to have gardeners. A plant to get an OSS man there was approved. I supplied female sex hormones to be injected into 'der Führer's' carrots.

I can only assume that the gardener took our money and threw the medications away. Either that or Hitler had a big turnover in tasters.

One morning a radio message from one of our spies in Switzerland said: "French workman who swam Rhine last night told improbable story. Said he was guard for casks of water from Rjukan in Norway to Peenemünde."

A week before I had attended a discussion by scientists involved in atom bomb studies. Someone said, "Graphite would be a more efficient neutron arrester than heavy water."

The only water in the world worth guarding is heavy water.

I rushed to the maps. What was Rjukan? The biggest hydroelectric development in Europe and perhaps the only place where heavy water could be produced. I obtained air photos of Peenemünde. Dairy farms, thatched farmhouses. I didn't believe that!

In August 1943 the RAF staged a raid at Peenemünde that killed a thousand people and inflicted heavy damage—not on the atomic lab we thought was there but on the rocket station that was there. Dr. Martin Schilling, who was then chief of the Test Section at Peenemünde, recalls that it delayed the use of V-1s and V-2s until after the Normandy landings. Had those rockets landed on England prior to that date, the invasion of France would have been delayed.

The French workman was quite right, so far as he knew. For security, the guards had been told that the heavy-water shipments were headed for Peenemünde. Actually the load was sent to other destinations where nuclear research was really being carried on.

And so the strangest coincidence of all. The OSS message was incorrect, yet its interpretation helped implement the decision to bomb the headquarters of German rocket research.

Office of Strategic Services Insignia.

 
OSS Escape Utility Knife. This is basically a Leatherman except instead of scissors and a useless saw, you get wire cutters and special blade for slashing tires.

SOE Agents Assassination Pen Dagger. The name of this item pretty much says it all. It's a pen until you need to kill someone, and then the device comes apart to reveal a dagger with a 7.5cm blade. According to the auction house, "These were also given to resistance fighters."

SOE Agents Concealment Key. Interesting iron key which the end screws off to reveal hollow center which could be used to smuggle out messages, conceal a compass or even used to conceal a weapon or poison.

SOE / Commando Garrote Wire. This advanced version a Mafioso's piano wire is studded with razor sharp barbs, so that when you go to strangle the enemy, you can cut off their head at the same time.

SOE Agents Assassination Lapel Spike.

Biscuit Tin Radio. A radio disguised as a biscuit tin – simple yet ingeniously effective! During the war the Special Operatives Executive (SOE) had a team of spy gadget specialists dedicated solely to inventing radios that were made to look like everyday objects. One of the most effective has to be the Biscuit Tin radio, an ingenious way of communicating crucial messages to fellow spies.

Footprints have long been amongst the most obvious methods for spies and detectives to discover someone's presence. In order to conceal their location, SOE agents would use these rubber soles.

These overshoes would be slipped over military boots to hide their tread and fool the enemy into believing they were the footprints of barefooted locals.

Bigot Pistol. a late-World War II experiment created by the OSS to take the place of a suppressed .45 pistol. A spigot-mortar-like guide rod was installed in the barrel of a standard 1911, onto which a big steel dart would slide. The dart had a .25 ACP blank cartridge in its nose, and dropping the hammer on the 1911 would fire that blank. The resulting pressure would launch the dart out at roughly 200 fps. Not very fast, but certainly fast enough to make it very unpleasant to get hit by.

Lock-picking tools issued by the OSS.

A Type B Mk II suitcase radio used by two World War II outfits: America's Office of Strategic Services (OSS) and Britain's Special Operations Executive (SOE).

SOE wireless set disguised as a suitcase.

B2 suitcase set designed by Major John I. Brown.

An undercover ID for Office of Strategic Services director William J Donovan.

Sleeve gun. It is not known whether the sleeve gun was actually used in the field. According to the SOE catalogue, the assassin lets the gun slide into his hand and presses the muzzle against the victim, whilst pulling the trigger with his thumb. As the gun is only a few inches in length, it can then once again be hidden up the sleeve. The bullet cartridge remains within the gun, so there is no tell-tale evidence left lying around. The gun had a range of up to three yards, but allowed only one shot.

'Sleeping Beauty' canoe. The SOE semi-submersible canoe was nicknamed the 'Sleeping Beauty.' It was battery powered, had a top speed of 4.4 knots, and could travel for some 30 miles at a cruising speed of 3 knots. It was designed to carry up to three and a half pounds of explosives and, if necessary, to be dropped near its target by a heavy bomber. The canoe was used in the disastrous Rimau Operation, which saw the loss of the entire SOE team for no reward.

Amphibian breathing apparatus. The 'Amphibian' apparatus had an oxygen bottle with one and a half hours' supply. The SOE catalogue states that 'breathing should be quite normal.'

Sten gun with silencer. The silencer for the Sten gun was first developed in 1942, and was put into action in 1943. It meant that the gun could be used without alerting the enemy to small-arms fire in the vicinity. Only someone who was within 200 yards of the firer would be able to recognize the sound as gunfire. Another advantage of the silencer was that it eliminated any muzzle flash. This was important when the SOE team was operating at night. The Sten gun silencer was an ideal weapon for assassination, and it is known that it was used to kill the Norwegian traitor, Ivar Grande, in 1944. It is also thought that these guns were used during Operation Ratweek, when the SOE targeted collaborators in 1943.

Shaving cream tube with secret chamber. These chambers were used to conceal messages or objects. Toothpaste tubes were also used, but clearly the chamber would have been smaller. All the tubes were branded with the name of an appropriate manufacturer, and the top of the tube was filled with shaving cream or toothpaste so that it could be used normally, averting any suspicion. If the concealed object, such as a code printed on silk, required damp proofing, it was placed inside a balloon. This would be placed in the tube along with a bit of cotton wool to keep it in place. Instead of messages, glass-frosting ointment was also sometimes hidden in this secret compartment. The ointment could be used for sabotaging optical instruments.

'Exploding' rat. The idea for the 'exploding' rat - now immortalized as part of the SOE legend - was developed in 1941. The aim was to blow up the enemy's boilers by lying the rat on the coal beside the boiler, with the fuse being lit when the rat was shoveled into the fire. They were never used, as the first consignment was seized by the Germans and the secret was blown. The Germans were fascinated by the idea, however, and the rats were exhibited at the top military schools. Indeed, the SOE files show that the Germans actually organized searches for these rodent explosives. The source of the dead rats was a London supplier, who was under the mistaken belief that it was for London University.

Plaster logs. The plaster logs were designed to smuggle arms and ammunition into enemy territory. The arms or ammo were packed into cardboard containers, and sealed to protect the contents from the damp. The sealed containers were then built into dummy logs, which were carefully modeled on actual common tree varieties of the place of destination. They were then painted and embellished with moss and lichen, to make them look even more real.

Cork with hidden compartment. This normal bottle cork has had a secret compartment whittled out of it. It was used to conceal codes and micro-prints from the enemy.

Techniques of disguise. The SOE used a range of disguise techniques. The illustration shows what the catalogue claims can be done with a 'little shading, a theatrical moustache and a pair of glasses.' These minimalist, but highly effective, disguise techniques were drilled home to the SOE recruits by their instructors. In the field, new disguises had to be quick and easy. For more radical disguises, some agents even underwent plastic surgery to change their appearance.

Incendiary suitcase. These incendiary suitcases were intended to provide security for secret documents, and act as a booby trap for any snooping enemy soldier or secret policeman. They also came in the form of briefcases. To open the case safely, the SOE agent had to make sure that the right hand lock was pressed down and held to the right. If this wasn't done, the left hand lock would fire the charges when anyone attempted to click it open. The exploding cases could also be hazardous to members of the SOE. One briefcase exploded unexpectedly and injured an SOE agent, David Smiley, in Thailand. He was severely burnt by the explosion, but after treatment returned to active service.

Sedgley OSS .38 AKA Glove Gun or Glove Pistol.