Word: kharkov
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...Accuse documents the Kharkov war-criminal trials (TIME, Dec. 27, 1943) with the force of a pile driver. It shows the faces of the three virtual nobodies, "typical Nazis," and of the collaborationist Russian, a "miserable weakling," who stand accused. It shows the hideous photographs and testimonials of the atrocities, or kinds of atrocity,* to which the accused plead guilty. Even more overwhelming are shots of bereaved women as they touch and caress the wounds and the frozen feet of their dead; or the restrained but colossal grief and passion for retribution in the faces of the men & women...
...Allies landed in North Africa, in Sicily, in Italy, in Normandy, in southern France, on the east bank of the Rhine. This time the Germans felt the false hopes of abortive offensives, Atlantic Walls and secret weapons-and still hollower feelings after the fall of Tunis, Sicily, Naples, Rome; Kharkov, Kiev, Odessa, Bucharest; Paris, Marseilles, Antwerp; Riga, Sofia, Warsaw, Budapest; Aachen and Cracow; Frankfurt and Danzig; Essen and Vienna; Magdeburg and Nürenberg; Bremen, Milan, Munich, Berlin...
...accent is more Boston than any thing else (he was born in Kharkov, Russia, in 1899, the son of a successful novelist and playwright-grew tip in St. Petersburg-finished school there just before the revolution). He is low-voiced, restrained-and he wears rimless pinch-nose glasses (he served for five months as a machine gunner in the Ukrainian Army, then signed as seaman on a munitions ship bound for America-reached New York unable to speak English and with only 14? in Turkish money in his pocket. For months he worked as an engraver's assistant...
...Road Back. In that winter of disaster, the Germans retreated some 400 miles, lost (according to Moscow) 1,200,000 men and 5,000 planes, gave up Vyazma, Rzhev, Kharkov, Belgorod, Rostov, a foothold in Voronezh. Manstein, retreating along the southern fringe of Russia, shrewdly caught advanced Russian tank columns in the March mud and out of fuel, recaptured Belgorod and Kharkov, subsequently wrote a sometimes brilliant, sometimes mistaken, always futile chapter in the tactics of retreat...
...summer of 1932, while Germany and Russia were still slapping each other's backs, Manstein donned civilian clothes, went to Russia for a look. At the Kharkov station a leather-jacketed Soviet commissar bounced in, offered Manstein vodka and zakuska. While the surprised visitor was gulping the fiery drink, another commissar dashed in, pulled the first one aside. Both then approached Manstein, stuttering, red-faced: "Mistake. ... It was a mistake. . . . We thought you were Comrade Thälmann...