the news came in early December that Army Group Center had been encircled near Moscow that shook everyone, Manstein realized that he would not wait for any more reserves. Nevertheless, the order to take Sevastopol by storm was still in force, and Manstein had to make do with the available resources in a rapidly deteriorating situation.
Manstein understood that there was no point in resuming an assault on the city while a strong group of Soviet troops was in his rear. He left a covering force at Sevastopol and concentrated his main forces against the Russian armies, which were entrenched on the Kerch Peninsula and constantly tried to break through from there into the interior of Crimea.
The Führer's order to begin using chemical weapons against the Red Army did not please Manstein. As a military strategist, he understood Hitler's motives – the Army Group Center, sitting in the Moscow Pocket, had to be saved by any means. Nevertheless, he did not expect a long-term effect from the use of chemical warfare agents. The civilian populations of Russian cities could indeed become very unhappy, but Manstein strongly doubted that chemical munitions would be more effective at the front than conventional shells and bombs.
Near Moscow, mustard gas was already flowing and clouds of phosgene and cyanogen chloride were swirling over Russian positions, while in the Crimea, both sides were in no hurry to throw chemical shells at each other.
Manstein had had his fill of this stuff during World War I, and did not seek to repeat that unpleasant experience, and the Soviets, who were not subjected to chemical attacks, were not the first to use poisonous substances either.
Stocks of shells and bombs with colorful rings on their casings had just been piling up in the front depots, and then went back to the Reich when, in late January, the Führer suddenly changed his mind and ordered the cessation of the use of chemical weapons.
The winter in Crimea was unexpectedly cold. Of course, the freezing temperatures here could not be compared to what was going on at Moscow and Leningrad, but the roads were first icy and then muddy, which made it very difficult to move the troops. And yet now, in mid-March, Manstein felt that he could not drag it out any longer. The problem of Feodosia and Kerch should have been solved immediately. The battle of Moscow ended in heavy defeat, but the front was stabilized, and the Führer finally remembered that there were other battlegrounds. After long arguments Manstein still managed to convince the command to allocate a tank division armed with new long-barrel cannons capable of penetrating the armor of Russian T-34s and KVs from a reasonable distance to strike the Kerch Peninsula. In addition, Colonel General Richthofen's Fourth Air Fleet was to support his offensive from the air. Manstein understood that this was the maximum he could get, and Hitler's best strategist no longer doubted – it was time to start.
Stalin did not let me go to the Crimea alone. Well, who would have doubted it. The Army Commissar 1st Rank, Lev Zakharovitch Mekhlis, went with me as the Chief's watchful eye, and, interestingly enough, also as a representative of the Headquarters of the Supreme High Command. Considering that the rank of my "colleague" corresponded to that of the General of the Army, I had great suspicion that my decisions would be challenged all the time by this comrade, who was very active and unconditionally loyal to Stalin, and who had very little knowledge of military matters.
From the very beginning Mekhlis looked at me with almost undisguised suspicion; he only kept his caustic remarks to himself, it seemed, because of the direct order from the Supreme Commander-in-Chief. But that was while we were in Moscow. The farther our plane moved from the capital, the clearer was the mixture of disdain and mistrust in the Army Commissar's glances he cast at me. I completely ignored these glances of his and behaved in an emphatically neutral manner.
Mekhlis finally couldn't stand it. “You are not a member of the Party, are you, Major General?”
“I am not,” I replied, as indifferently as possible.
“Is this your position of principle?”
“I would not say so. Rather, there are objective circumstances that prevent…”
“It's all excuses,” Mekhlis cleaved the air with his hand, reinforcing the categorical tone of his words, “I read your profile. You are hiding behind religious beliefs, even though you know very well that this is complete nonsense.”
“Lev Zakharovitch, unfortunately, my point of view on this issue does not coincide with yours.”
“Be kind enough to address me according to regulations, Major General. You are three ranks below me, and it is strange to me that I should have to teach you the chain of command.”
“My fault, Comrade Army Commissar 1st Rank. It won't happen again.”
I answered calmly and even indifferently, and that seemed to infuriate the impulsive Commissar the most.
“Comrade Stalin has placed a high degree of trust in you, Major General,” Mekhlis's voice sounded threatening, “But that doesn't mean that now everyone around you will instantly let their guard down.”
“That's right, Comrade Army Commissar 1st Rank,” I answered with the same indifference, “Loss of vigilance is a direct path to bigger problems. It must not be lost under any circumstances. If you'll excuse me, the last three days have been very stressful, and you and I will have a lot of urgent work to do once we get there. With your permission, I'll get some sleep.”
I made myself comfortable in my chair and closed my eyes, completely ignoring Mekhlis's face, which was twisted with anger. The funny thing was that neither I nor the Commissar could figure out which one of us should obey whom. Comrade Stalin was always an extremely cunning bug; he masterfully knew how to plant potential conflict bombs under relations between his subordinates. Didn't he know Mekhlis's character well? I don't believe it! Rather the opposite. Stalin was well aware of what our joint mission to the Crimean front would entail, and he evidently sincerely believed that it would only be better for the cause.
Mekhlis did outrank me by quite a bit, but it was I, not the Commissar, who received the authority to make personnel decisions regarding the leadership of the Crimean Front. Stalin also explicitly recommended Mekhlis not to interfere in my military-strategic decisions, leaving him with disciplinary matters, moral-political preparation of the operation and some general control over its course, whose essence I could not fully grasp, and the Chief himself did not elaborate on his idea.
All in all, it turned out to be a pretty good jar of spiders, and in addition to purely military matters, I clearly had a lot of problems to deal with in the near future due to the manic suspicion and unparalleled mistrustfulness of the Army Commissar. But I don't care! The trouble to come was to be met as it came. I activated the augmented reality mode and unfolded a virtual map of the Crimean peninsula before my eyes.
The picture that emerged was, to put it bluntly, contradictory. At first glance, the Red Army and the Black Sea Fleet had considerable forces in the Crimea. On the Kerch Peninsula the 44th, 47th and 51st Armies were concentrated, having in their composition nearly 250,000 infantry, six tank brigades, and two separate tank battalions. The garrison of the Sevastopol defensive area had about 120,000 soldiers and commanders, numerous artillery, including coastal batteries of large caliber, 47 tanks, and more than a hundred aircraft, based at the airfield built at the beginning of the war on Cape Chersonesos. The Black Sea Fleet had the battleship Paris Commune, the cruisers Krasny Krym and Krasny Kavkaz, three destroyer battalions, two light cruisers, a fairly impressive underwater force and a significant number of minesweepers, small artillery ships and boats.
These seemed to be impressive forces, but there were some serious "buts". First of all, of course, aviation. This misfortune had only worsened by early 1942. The losses of the initial period of the war also affected the Red Army Air Forces and, no less importantly, the
