Chapter 3: The Spanish Civil War – The Battle of Jarama (2)
Translated by Vine | Proofread by Lust
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On February 11th, under Colonel Escamez’s command, they successfully crossed the river and even managed to capture Pinar de Chamartin hill, their original objective.
However, as feared, the Republican forces had been heavily reinforced during the rain, and the fortified enemy on the eastern hills of Jarama put up fierce resistance.
The International Brigades, reportedly from Britain, fought valiantly despite heavy casualties, resisting until even their battalion commander was killed in action, but they ultimately lost the hill and were routed.
A famous poet was also said to have died. They probably fought a desperate battle to defend democracy and justice. The Nationalists mocked their corpses, calling them foolish Reds brainwashed by the Bolsheviks.
Facing the desperate resistance of the Republicans, the Nationalist high command’s idiotic plan of resorting to wave attacks whenever things deviated from the plan was resulting in massive casualties.
While accurate figures were unavailable, casualties were estimated to be at least 4,000. 4,000? Their company had a total strength of 101, including officers. His company in Korea was about the same size.
Reading about the tens of millions of deaths in World War II and acknowledging it as a horrific war was one thing. But standing here on this battlefield, knowing that casualties exceeding 40 times their entire company’s strength had occurred, carried a different weight.
Moreover, from his current position on Pinar de Chamartin hill, he could clearly see Nationalist soldiers being pointlessly mowed down by artillery and machine-gun fire as they charged forward.
After several days of such senseless slaughter, the battered Nationalist offensive began to lose steam, and they faced a Republican counterattack.
—
February 14, 1937
Pinar de Chamartin hill, east of the Jarama River, southeast of Madrid, Central Spain
February 14th. If he were in Korea, it would have been Valentine’s Day, a day that would have irritated him with couples flaunting their affection, yet he would have secretly held some expectations.
Of course, such a thing didn’t exist in this era.
“Enemy aircraft approaching!”
“Adjust the firing angle! Quickly!”
An early version of the famous 8.8 cm anti-aircraft gun, the Flak 18, creaked as the soldier desperately cranked the adjustment wheel, elevating the barrel. It fired with a roar, but the shell missed the enemy aircraft and exploded harmlessly.
“Damn it! Take cover!”
“Aaargh!”
As soon as the soldiers abandoned the anti-aircraft gun and dove into the trenches, machine gun fire strafed overhead.
“What the hell is the Luftwaffe doing?!”
“We’ve lost air superiority! The enemy’s new aircraft are clearly superior to our fighters!”
Even the usually good-natured Captain Kaufmann cursed, and he could only report the truth. They were using outdated biplanes, while the enemy had deployed the new Soviet I-16 monoplane!
The Axis losing air superiority? This is like a preview of the horrors of the late stages of World War II. He could only curse.
“Enemy’s new tank!”
Meanwhile, a new enemy tank, a BT-5, was seen rapidly approaching the front lines. The BT-5 charged at a speed that the Panzer I, already struggling against the T-26, couldn’t hope to match.
It was a light tank whose main advantage was its high speed and nothing more, but it was enough to terrify the infantry facing it for the first time, and the Nationalist forces quickly crumbled.
“Damn it, stay calm! If they come without infantry support, we just need to blast them with anti-tank or anti-aircraft guns!”
Chaos erupted as Lieutenant Clemens, the 1st Platoon Leader, frantically ran around shouting, and his adjutant, Sergeant Kohr, slapped sense into the panicking soldiers.
What rear echelon, no direct combat my ass! If the front line collapses in an instant, this becomes the front line! You incompetent Spaniard bastards!
“Aaaagh! My arm! My aaarm! Mamaaaa!”
A soldier, unlucky enough to be hit directly by a tank shell, tumbled from the Pak 36 anti-tank gun, thrashing about and searching for his arm. Meanwhile, another Flak 18 pierced the paper-thin armor of an enemy tank, silencing it.
The famed 8.8 cm anti-aircraft gun of the Wehrmacht was indeed living up to its reputation, proving its effectiveness against ground targets. He would have been impressed if his own unit wasn’t on the receiving end of this demonstration!
The Republicans, having launched their counteroffensive with great momentum, seemed to realize that the Condor Legion was qualitatively different from the average Nationalist troops after several of their tanks were destroyed by concentrated anti-tank and anti-aircraft fire. They halted their tank deployment and switched to an infantry assault.
Seeing such a quick response, could this be Enrique Líster’s 11th Division? Whether it was or not, they had no choice but to defend.
“Fire, fire!”
Although not quite as infamous as Hitler’s buzzsaw of ’42, the MG 34, mounted on its dedicated tripod, belied its light machine gun classification, mercilessly shredding the enemy infantry with its rapid rate of fire.
Witnessing flesh being torn apart in real-time is not good for one’s mental health.
“Hmm, excellent. The Wehrmacht’s new weapons are indeed quite powerful.”
It was only natural that a unit over-equipped with heavy weaponry, meant to be a testbed for new weapons, would perform well, but he still admired Captain Kaufmann’s composure as he calmly observed the situation through his binoculars. However—
A disturbing whistling sound reached his ears.
“Captain!”
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Without a second thought, he tackled the Captain and threw himself into the trench.
As soon as they landed, the explosion of the impact followed, and sand rained down mercilessly on his head and back. F*ck. That hurts…
“Ugh, cough…”
“Cough, cough…”
He coughed in the dust and dirt, his body trembling from the shock, but thankfully, he didn’t seem to have lost any limbs. The Captain, who had pushed him off first, helped him up.
“Thank you, Lieutenant.”
“Cough, it’s nothing, Captain.”
This isn’t right. This is a full-blown front line now. This is completely different from what that damn Hitler intended!
He wanted to retreat immediately, but unfortunately, the messenger sent by Major Beckers, the battalion commander, relayed the order to stay put, test the weapons, and earn some glory. They might as well take advantage of the opportunity and show off to the battered Nationalist forces.
What a sh*tshow. Whether he was angry or not, the situation was rapidly deteriorating.
The Republicans, having been unilaterally pushed back and lost the west side of the Jarama River, were now attacking relentlessly from all directions as if seeking revenge.
Meanwhile, Colonel Rada’s unit, which was supposed to hold the north, was reportedly engaged with enemy forces advancing from central Madrid.
The Republican armored units, having lost more than a dozen light tanks they had received from the Soviets while trying to recapture Pinar de Chamartin hill, which was held by the Condor Legion, had retreated in shock. But they soon regrouped and decisively defeated Colonel Asensio and Baron Fernando’s central force, which had been attacking the enemy lines.
The Nationalist forces hadn’t lost the territories they had captured, but the offensive was over, and they were now struggling to defend against the Republican counterattack.
Casualties were piling up. Just a few days after being horrified by the report of over 4,000 casualties, the number had soared to at least 6,000, with estimates exceeding 10,000.
And they were on the defensive now!
Even in the Condor Legion, whose equipment far surpassed that of the Nationalist units, casualties were mounting. Since the operation began, five men had been killed and twelve wounded and sent to the rear from their company of 101.
Lieutenant Julius Habenstein, the 3rd Platoon Leader, seemed to be suffering from depression after losing Sergeant Neuer, his adjutant since their deployment.
He didn’t know the Republican casualties, but just looking at the corpses piled up in front of their defensive line, it was clear they numbered in the hundreds, not tens.
The whistling and roaring of incoming shells constantly rang in his ears like tinnitus. He had lost count of how many times he had bolted upright in his sleep, mistaking the tinnitus for shelling.
He had often heard that war wears people down, but experiencing it firsthand and being eroded by it was truly a dreadful experience.
The Republican counterattack continued for almost two weeks, piling up mountains of corpses.
The Republican offensive gradually faltered as their air force suffered losses to the Flak 18 anti-aircraft guns provided by the Condor Legion across the front lines. It finally ended when they lost air superiority to the Luftwaffe’s He 51s and the Italian CR.32 fighters, which had been forced into action by pressure from the Nationalists.
The Nationalists failed to achieve their ambitious goal of cutting off the road between Madrid and Valencia, and while the Republicans overcame their initial disadvantage and launched a counteroffensive, they failed to recapture any of the key strongholds lost to the Nationalists.
No one knew the exact number of casualties on both sides. It was only estimated that the combined losses were at least 20,000.
The blood that dyed the Jarama River red had gained nothing for either side.
—
After the front lines entered a lull, with both Republicans and Nationalists suffering unsustainable losses, they were finally able to withdraw.
In contrast to the somber atmosphere of the devastated Nationalists and those who had lost their comrades, the rest of the Condor Legion was in a surprisingly cheerful mood.
They were even holding a small celebration despite being in the midst of this civil war.
Or perhaps this was the normal sentiment in this era.
“Hey, Dietrich. Enjoying yourself?”
“Yeah, so-so. You good, Clemens?”
“Great!”
Clemens, with a beer in one hand, grinned as he touched the Iron Cross 2nd Class pinned to his chest.
The Condor Legion, utilizing Germany’s new equipment, had successfully repelled the Republican counterattack and obtained valuable combat data.
The Panzer I proved to be utterly useless in tank warfare, though it might be of some use in infantry support. But even such a conclusion was a valuable lesson, and no one had high expectations for the Panzer I, which was essentially a prototype.
It was cobbled together after the Nazi Party came to power, developed under the ridiculous name of “tractor” because Germany, defeated in World War I, was prohibited from manufacturing tanks under the Treaty of Versailles. It would have been stranger if it had been a high-quality product.
The problem was that this useless thing would be used on the front lines in the early stages of World War II…
In any case, other army weapons proved quite useful, and the performance of the Condor Legion silenced the Nationalists, who had been whining about only receiving a small force due to fear of Britain and France.
Germany seemed quite encouraged and awarded the Iron Cross 2nd Class to all officers who fought on the front lines.
Setting aside other matters, the Pak 36 anti-tank gun, with its pathetic penetration power, effective only against older light tanks, would become the subject of ridicule as a “door knocker” from the beginning of World War II, so they shouldn’t be complacent.
Should I write a report suggesting that the anti-tank guns seem to have less penetration power than the anti-aircraft guns? Unlike him, lost in thought, Clemens was simply excited.
“Yes! The Iron Cross! Our efforts have been recognized, haven’t they? If we do well, maybe we can become General Staff candidates?”
He could only smile at the elated Clemens. My friend, becoming a General Staff officer isn’t that easy…
It was true that he felt a certain emotion wearing the Iron Cross, which modern Germany had abolished, competing with the Nazis.
Once World War II started, the Nazis would hand these out like candy, and eventually, everyone and their dog would be wearing one.
Thinking about it that way, the ones they received were made before 1939, when the Nazis established a new version, so they were actually from the German Empire era, making them rarer?
“Hey, Dietrich.”
“Yeah?”
In the direction Clemens indicated, Spanish women in elegant dresses were smiling flirtatiously.
It was probably similar to the admiration Korean women felt for American soldiers after the Korean War. Honestly, he wasn’t in the mood for such things.
“Go on. Great hero of Germany.”
“Why are you holding back? Well, enjoy yourself then.”
He sent Clemens off, puzzled by his words, “Why are you holding back?” He searched his memories and realized that Dietrich was quite the playboy.
Despite attending Heidelberg University, he underwent officer training because he seemingly failed to live up to his father Hjalmar Schacht’s expectations, and then came to Spain, claiming he would earn glory for the Führer…
Moreover, this guy, with his somewhat handsome face, had a history of playing the field. Damn it, I was a virgin until I was discharged as a Sergeant, but this guy was having a blast?
A sudden wave of irritation washed over him…
Still, having been thrown into battle as soon as he woke up as Dietrich, he finally had some time to organize his thoughts now that he was alone.
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