The story of 19-year-old Alfons Volgemuts about the intelligence battle on February 17, 1945 near Priekule

On February 16, we were on the edge of a forest north of Priekule. We received an order to come to the former Priekule manor house ready for the battle at 10 pm. We checked the walkie-talkie and in the evening we went to the indicated place, where already about 200 grenadiers from II / GR426 and 20 tanks had gathered.

We talked quietly. We realized that we would go to battle with tanks. Franci and I sat on the ground by a thick tree. It was frozen, but not too cold. While waiting for the order to leave, we talked about what might happen to us.

Until now, we controlled the artillery fire with the help of a walkie-talkie, but now, it seemed that we would have to take part in the battle. Francis told me to stick with him all the time. And then the tanks began to roar, each taking in about 10 men sitting on the platform. The three of us sat on the front tank, behind which everyone else was heading southwest. It was around 2:00 a.m. on February 17, 1945. We drove across the railway, along the forest in a southwesterly direction. The shooting was not too intense. At first, the Russians fired only with small arms, then from anti-tank guns. We remained intact, only a piece of Francim's grenade tearing off the heel of the boot.

After about 3-4 km, the tanks stopped. We jumped out of them. Bullets shone around. The shots came from a hill about 100 m to the left of the road, from a country house. A not too deep ditch winded along the road, we jumped into it. The tanks turned and left. In the dark we could see a small barn from which 2 Russian soldiers ran away. Apparently without weapons. One of them looked hurt.

Francis shouted, “Stop! Ruki verh! ” Both soldiers raised their hands in the air. Gave up. We ran into the barn. This was probably our goal, where the commander had ordered to take up combat positions. Shortly before that, the area was completely in German hands. Shed, about 6x6 m. At the bottom is a basement with a deep entrance, with three sections separated by boards. In the first, the largest - a large table with telephones. In the further district, which were two-storey bunk beds, we imprisoned both Russian prisoners. We arranged the transmitters and antennas.

We tried to contact our battery, but we did not receive any response. Contacts were not established later. There was a noise outside. There ours attacked the Russian positions. We sent a report on the situation but received no response. The Grenadiers took Russian positions, only with very heavy losses. Sanitary brought 2 wounded to the basement, took care of them.

At one point of respite, I released the wounded Russian from the district. He had a gunshot wound to his chest, but he was able to breathe perfectly. I put a bandage on him, gave them both a piece of bread and a cigarette.

As the day wore on, another wounded person was deducted from the sanitation. It lay about 100 m from us and groaned heavily. No one shot for a while. Then the war resumed. It seems that the Russians had received an addition and attacked again.

The Russians began to use heavy weapons. Some Grenadiers came to us and said they could no longer hold these positions because most of us had already fallen as soldiers and officers. Nothing else but retreat. There were 14 soldiers and three wounded left in the basement. No officer. One of the soldiers recommended to run to the edge of the forest along an open field about 250 m wide. It could have happened if we had fire protection. It was therefore decided; 3 of us will stay and continuously shoot at the Russians to allow the rest to retreat to the nearby forest.

Another 19-year-old boy and an older grenadier with a head injury were chosen to stay in the basement to secure the fire. Around 10:00 on the morning of February 17, the others left the basement of the country house. We shot three in Russian positions as much as there was power. The others ran away as much as there was power. One of the runners fell and fell asleep. I thought it was sanitary. The others reached the edge of the forest, but there they were greeted by a Russian fire. I heard loud screams. It seemed to me that I had heard the voice of my friend Franz Kellenter among them. Then everything fell silent. Silence also came to us. Terrible silence.

We realized we would be captured or shot. The injured moaned softly. Their fate was also unknown. The door to the outside remained open. I didn't know if to go out or stay in the basement.

Then a German tank suddenly appeared on the road. It stopped. It did not shoot and was not fired. Therefore, we decided that it was a Russian-occupied tank. Then it turned sharply and left. A few minutes later, I heard a quiet noise outside, as if someone was carefully walking through the rubble. I looked at the open basement door and saw a bearded face with exploring eyes. Then those eyes saw me! The man turned quickly and disappeared. After a few minutes, we heard loud voices outside. At the entrance to the basement, a hand grenade fell and exploded loudly. Some rubble hit the wounded and they shouted loudly.

Well, our Russian prisoners shouted something to their members. We let them out. After a while we were called to come out with our hands raised. In front of us stood a sergeant of the Soviet army with a gun in his hand and some other Russian soldiers. The wounded in the basement moaned and screamed. The sergeant went down. We heard shots. Then everything fell silent.

The sergeant came to me and aimed. Then both our captives began to speak, pointing to us. The sergeant dropped his weapon. Our pockets were searched. My rose crown was dropped. Even more Russian soldiers arrived. We were taken to a connecting point. Along the way, we had to carry a stretcher with a severely wounded soldier. He had a broken leg. It held only in a small tissue stalk. As we carried him across the field, a shooting started nearby. We fell to the ground as usual. The injured Russian cried out in pain in a stretcher. He kept repeating, "Tihonko, tihonko!" Then I didn't know what that meant. Later, when I was learning a little Russian, I realized what that word meant.

That's how we reached the Russian headquarters in a country house. There we were questioned one by one. I was threatened with hanging (pointed rope) and had our battery positions shown on the map. It was a Russian map. I said I couldn't read anything in it. Then I was brought a German card. There I saw the way we came from Paplaka to Priekuli. The wolf on the map with my finger and pointed to a field about 200 m to the left of the road. In fact, our positions were on the right side of the road, behind the woods.

Later, after the capitulation, I met a feldfele from our part in the prison camp. He was pleasantly surprised to meet me. He said that no one had returned from our operation on February 17 and that there had been a heavy fire near our position on the left side of the road that day. There was only no serious loss for us.

The third of us, a senior grenadier with a head injury, was completely confused. Apparently, under the death of its members. A Russian went behind the barn with him. A shot came from there, and the Russian returned. Alone. That's how we stayed together. In the evening I was taken to two senior Russian officers. One of them spoke German. He talked to me in a very humane way. By the way, he asked me about my attitude towards war. I talked about my life and how the Nazi government had treated my family. My father was a police officer;

In 1934, he was fired for refusing to join the SS. The father fell in France in 1944. After questioning, we received millet porridge, bread and water.

We spent the night with several Russian soldiers in the same room. We were allowed to sleep under the beds on the floor. The next day, accompanied by several soldiers, we were taken by truck to a prison collection point in a barn near Skoda. There were about 10 of us there. None of our battle groups were among them. There were no more prisoners at the time. About 200 men took part in our operation. If no one was here but the two of us, then everyone had fallen. The meaning and purpose of this operation is described in the Division Chronicle. Strategy and execution are not understandable to me as a strategy dilettante. I also do not understand what was paid for with 200 lives.

This was followed by two years of Russian captivity in Riga: a camp in the Kaiserwalde, demolition work in the city and in Olaine, a peat camp south of the port of Riga. Peat works lasted all summer. Our proverb: "Water from above (rain), water from below (swamp), water inside (on foot from hunger) - its Olaine suffering." I had already lost 50 kg in the autumn. It was further moved to Northern Estonia: Kotla-Jarve, Jove, Tammika - quarries, forestry, construction, etc.

In 1947, I was released from the camp on suspicion of having tuberculosis.

I found my mother, who had been expelled from East Prussia, in Westphalia.

In 2008 I visited Latvia with my son and a friend's family. In the vicinity of Priekule, we were looking for the fateful place where most of our members died and where I was captured. It was found with great difficulty about 7 km southwest of Priekule. Basement ruins, uninhabited country house - all overgrown with bushes. A strong touch, standing in the same place where the gun was aimed at me. I managed to survive!

There was no one to ask if there was a German cemetery nearby. We visited a cemetery of Russian soldiers south of Priekule. There's more than 20,000 fallen and a very expressive monument. In Russia, too, mothers, wives and children wept for their sons, husbands and fathers. A serious warning that nothing will ever happen again.