I have necessarily spent a great deal of time addressing the build-up toward war in the East, and with very good reason.  The Second World War was, in many ways, several different wars that somehow united into one giant maelstrom.  But the eye of the storm, from June 22, 1941 onward, was in the clash between Hitler’s Wehrmacht and Stalin’s Red Army.  The war between Japan and China, then Japan and the United States; the wars between the Anglo-Americans and the German Reich, any of them by themselves, would have comprised one of the greatest and bloodiest conflicts in human history.  But (with the possible exception of the Sino-Japanese war, in terms of casualties and sheer brutality) none could match the Nazi-Soviet conflict in terms of sheer immensity of scale, number of men and weapons involved.  It is, beyond the shadow of a doubt, the largest and bloodiest war ever fought in human history.  The outcome on the Eastern Front would determine the outcome of the war.

Adolf Hitler was gambling everything on the ability of the Wehrmacht to destroy the Soviet Union.  Knocking Britain’s continental sword out of her hand (to borrow the Fuhrer’s quaint phrase) would force the British to concede that they could not win the war, and also would make the Americans think twice about entering a war in which they almost certainly could not achieve anything better than a bloody stalemate.  Germany would be free from dependence upon foreign imports, and from the repercussions of the Royal Navy’s blockade, because it would enjoy unfettered access to the food and mineral resources of the former Soviet empire.  On the other hand, if for some reason the Wehrmacht failed, Germany would become mired in a protracted, two-front war which she could not possibly win, no matter how superior her forces might be at the tactical and operational level. 

Most of the Red Army was massed near the frontier, which played into Hitler’s hands.  The plan was to effectively destroy the Soviet forces in approximately three weeks of encirclement operations, such as had worked with such brilliance against France.  Of course, the size of the Soviet Union dwarfed that of the Western Front, and the Red Army had access to almost limitless reserves of manpower, as well as possessing colossal industrial strength.  But if the Red Army was smashed, and the Soviet state collapsed—as Hitler predicted—then the Third Reich could form its eastern empire all the way to the Urals, and leave only a token force to guard against any resurgence from a Communist state (or whoever took Stalin’s place), and begin settling German farmers and their families in the conquered areas.

At approximately 3 a.m. on June 22nd, 1941, the German artillery roared, and the Luftwaffe aircraft took off from their bases to begin the surprise attack.  Although, as Nikita Kruschev would later relate, everyone from Stalin down knew that war was about to break out, Stalin had been fanatically committed to refusing to do anything to provoke Hitler.  It is impossible to know for certain why Stalin allowed his forces to be caught unprepared.  The idea that he “trusted Hitler” seems almost laughable.  More likely, he was focused on his own offensive ambitions, and did not imagine that Hitler would attack without warning.  He probably expected some sort of concessions to be demanded, over which there would be diplomatic wrangling, while he prepared his forces for war. 

It was a deadly mistake.  The Red Army was not in position, the Red Air Force was caught with its pants down, thousands of planes being destroyed on the ground, giving the Luftwaffe complete air superiority.  The river Bug proved no obstacle to the advance of the German army groups, as their panzers sliced dozens of miles deep into the Soviet rear areas before the sun set on the first day of the war.  Confusion reigned in the Red Army; one commander named Pavlov panicked and fire off contradictory orders in all directions, for which he was summarily executed at Stalin’s order.  It was several hours before the Kremlin acknowledged they were at war, and ridiculous orders to counterattack were issued.  There would be no counterattacks, no taking control of the situation at the front.  The Red Army was reeling, and within days tens of thousands of its front-line soldiers would be encircled in giant cauldrons.

But there were also signs that this would be a far harder campaign than any in which the Wehrmacht had engaged so far.  While panzer and mobile divisions raced eastward, the infantry besieged the fortress of Brest-Litovsk.  Surrounded and cut off from all hope of relief, the Russian soldiers refused to surrender, but fought a resistance for days that was so bitter it amazed the German commanders, who had expected a quick surrender.  All along the front, though for the most part the Germans were advancing in breakneck speed, from place to place Russian soldiers were showing the dogged toughness that had made them a respected adversary in days gone by, and which would eventually turn around the disastrous situation brought about by Stalin’s refusal to put his forces on a war footing.