Last time we spoke about Day 2 of Operation Barbarossa. On the campaign's second day, Army Group North, led by Field Marshal Wilhelm Ritter von Leeb, aimed to seize Leningrad and prevent Soviet retreats. Initial assaults caught Soviet troops off guard, leading to devastating German victories. However, logistical challenges in harsh terrain began to hamper their advance. As Germany celebrated these wins, Soviet forces regrouped and mounted fierce counterattacks, demonstrating unexpected resilience amid chaos. In Finland, leveraging the situation, local activists orchestrated a rebellion in Kaunas, declaring independence and collaborating with German troops, marking a brief surge of hope among the populace. Yet, the brutality of war soon took center stage as Nazi units began committing horrific atrocities against Jewish communities. Amid these grim realities, soldiers faced not only daunting battles but also the moral implications of their actions. The tide of war began to reveal the brutal consequences of conflict, foreshadowing a dark period in history as both sides grappled with the unfolding horror of human suffering on the Eastern Front.

This episode is: Day 3 Operation Barbarossa: The First Encirclement

Well hello there, welcome to the Easter Front week by week podcast, I am your dutiful host Craig Watson. But, before we start I want to also remind you this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Perhaps you want to learn more about world war two? Kings and Generals have an assortment of episodes on world war two and much more so go give them a look over on Youtube. So please subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry for some more history related content, over on my channel, the Pacific War Channel you can find a few videos all the way from the Opium Wars of the 1800’s until the end of the Pacific War in 1945.

Well hello again, we are now on day 3 of Operation Barbarossa. Over the past two episodes we covered Army Group Center and Army Group North as they made their initial thrusts into the USSR. As the conflict unfolded, Army Group Center burst into the Soviet Union, fueled by an unstoppable momentum. The thrust was bolstered by the most formidable deployment of Luftwaffe assets ever seen on the Eastern Front. Imagine nearly 1,500 aircraft from the 2nd Air Fleet soaring through the skies, unleashing a relentless barrage on Soviet airfields, critical supply lines, and concentrations of troops. At first glance, the initial air superiority seemed like a foregone conclusion. However, this early success of the Luftwaffe belied deeper challenges lurking beneath the surface. Reconnaissance gaps and a glaring lack of close air support were quietly starting to impede the operational effectiveness of the German forces on the ground. As the campaign roared into action, German troops, led by Hoth’s 3rd Panzer Group and Guderian’s 2nd Panzer Group, initiated a swift, coordinated advance. Their goal? To encircle entire Soviet armies. Key locations like Alytus and Grodno became battlegrounds where fierce tank clashes unfolded. Here, the Germans encountered the formidable T-34s of the Red Army, a new and powerful adversary. Despite their bravery, disorganization and a failure to integrate combined-arms tactics ultimately doomed the Soviet counterattacks. Today we are going to continue the story and this will set the stage for one of the most significant encirclements in modern military history at the Bialystok-Minsk Pocket.

We are now venturing back to the campaign led by Army Group Center, who are currently being supported by two air corps, 2nd Air Corps, under General of Aviation Loerzer, the 8th Air Corps under Colonel General Richthofen both of which were part of the 2nd Air Fleet, under Field Marshal Kesserling. The 8th Air Corps was tasked with supporting the 9th Army, especially Armoured Group 3, while the 2nd Air Corps coordinated with the 4th Army, focusing primarily on Armoured Group 2. The previous successes of the Wehrmacht's land campaigns had showcased the enormous advantage Germany gained through effective combined-arms operations. Recognizing this critical synergy, Kesselring made it clear to his generals that the desires and strategies of the army were to be regarded as his own commands. This instruction underscored the necessity of collaboration, an essential element in the execution of their military plans. The commitment of air units to this campaign underscored the importance of Army Group Center as the spearhead of Operation Barbarossa. Around 1,500 planes took to the skies under the banner of the 2nd Air Fleet, boasting a formidable mix of modern light bombers, dive bombers, and fighters. In that crucial first week, these aircraft unleashed a series of raids on Soviet airfields and supply dumps, all in an effort to disrupt the Red Army’s ability to respond effectively to the invasion. By the end of this initial phase, it was clear: the Luftwaffe had overwhelmingly triumphed in the opening shots of the air war. Yet, even in this promising start, serious challenges began to emerge.

Despite the impressive number of aircraft, there was never enough close air support available to adequately assist the frontline troops. Gaps in air reconnaissance quickly became an issue. This lack of information allowed Soviet troop concentrations to go unnoticed, resulting in missed opportunities and surprise counter-attacks. This failure to gather intelligence left the Corps and Army commanders with an incomplete tactical picture. However, amid these challenges, there were also significant successes for the close air support units of the air fleet. Throughout this tumultuous beginning, the sky remained a battleground of innovation and conflict, where both sides wrestled for dominance as the war unfolded. Some of the reasons for this was because the 8th Air Corps had been heavily involved in the capture of Crete, and with the battle concluding in early June, there was barely any time to prepare for Barbarossa. By June 21, the 8th Air Corps was critically short on resources: approximately 600 motor vehicles, 40 percent of its aircraft, and essential communication equipment were all lacking. This significant shortfall loomed large just days before the invasion. On that same day, Colonel-General Wolfram von Richthofen, the commander of the 8th Air Corps expressed deep concern, stating, “We are greatly concerned that our units are as yet unready.” Maintaining hundreds of aircraft at peak operational readiness proved to be a constant technical challenge, obscuring the stark difference between the total number of aircraft and those truly combat-ready. For instance, out of 425 dive-bombers, only 323 were actually fit for combat, and of the 98 'destroyers', merely 60 were operational. Among the 384 fighters, just 284 were combat-ready, while the total bomber force of 299 aircraft saw only 222 remain serviceable. Overall, while Air Fleet 2 boasted a total of 1,367 aircraft across all types, but only 994 were capable of executing combat operations. This issue wasn't limited to Air Fleet 2; throughout the whole Eastern Front, the Luftwaffe faced an average 25 percent fallout rate among its aircraft. Consequently, a combined strength of 2,995 aircraft translated into just 2,255 that were truly combat-ready. By the summer of 1941, it became increasingly evident that the Luftwaffe would only be able to fulfill its commitments if the war in the east could be won swiftly and with minimal losses. Practical concerns, such as oil availability, and strategic considerations regarding Britain, made a prolonged campaign simply untenable. The Luftwaffe was already stretched thin across multiple fronts, with approximately 1,566 aircraft tied down in Western Europe, the Mediterranean, North Africa, and within Germany itself. This significant dispersion of strength across less critical theaters hindered their ability to concentrate on the most vital front, the one with the narrowest window for success.

The left flank of Army Group Center was firmly anchored by the 6th Corps within the Suwalki salient. These determined troops advanced in a northwestern direction toward Vilnius, aiming to seize control of the critical bridges at Alytus on the Neman River. In their path lay several divisions of the Red Army. However, the Soviet 11th Army, led by Lieutenant General Morozov stretched thin across a wide front of 170 kilometers, offered little resistance to the relentless march of the German Panzers from the 3rd Panzer Group. It was no surprise, then, that in the early hours of the 3rd Panzer Group’s surge eastward, forward units reported encountering “only very weak or no enemy contact.” Luftwaffe reconnaissance confirmed this, identifying just one enemy artillery battery in their path. By the end of the day, Hoth’s panzer group had reached the Neman River, seizing captured bridges at Olita and Merkine. The penetration of the Soviet front was significant; Halder remarked that the panzer group had already gained the freedom of operational maneuver, but also noted in their war diary “Where the enemy appears, he fights tenaciously and courageously to the death. Defectors and those seeking to surrender were not reported from any positions. As a result, the struggle will be harder than those in Poland and the Western campaign.” The strategic importance of Alytus was clear: it needed to be secured to maintain the momentum of the offensive. On June 22, the Germans achieved a crucial victory with the capture of Alytus. Under the command of Colonel General Hoth, the 3rd Panzer Group pushed forward with incredible speed, covering a distance of 65 kilometers from their starting point to the bridges at Alytus in less than ten hours. After quickly brushing aside a small NKVD border guard post on the outskirts of the town, the Panzers began to cross the Neman River almost immediately. This rapid advance not only secured the vital crossing but also set the stage for further operations deeper into Soviet territory.

On the Soviet side, the invasion triggered nothing short of utter chaos, most strikingly evident in the Western Military District, which faced Army Group Center. Here, the command structure collapsed almost immediately due to a near-total loss of communication at most levels of the chain of command. This complete disarray made it impossible to gather coherent information about the current situation, severely hampering the development and execution of a coordinated Soviet response. As internal confusion mounted alongside external pressure from the German advance, the Western Military District descended into disintegration. This slide toward chaos was exacerbated by the Soviet High Command's misguided adherence to pre-war plans, which called for immediate counterattacks. However, due to the lack of proper preparation and direction for these efforts, they resulted in piecemeal assaults that proved ineffective while inflicting heavy casualties on Soviet forces.

To give an example, the 11th Army, operating under the command of the Soviet Northwestern Front, had begun to organize a counterattack against the 4th Panzer Group around Raseiniai. However, the situation was precarious; the 11th Army had only the 5th Tank Division available to respond to the German crossing at Alytus. To complicate matters further, the Soviet tanks faced a 30-kilometer road march to reach their positions, causing a crucial delay that allowed the German Panzers time to concentrate their forces. By the time the Soviet tanks were nearly in position, the Panzers had managed to deploy an entire regiment ready to cross the Neman River. Unfortunately for the Soviets, some of their tanks suffered mechanical issues and fell behind on the way. Nonetheless, they arrived in force with 44 T-34s, a mark of their formidable capabilities. In this first encounter, the German troops were taken by surprise by the T-34s. The Soviet tanks swiftly targeted the northern of the two bridges, effectively shutting it down, and destroyed a Pz. 38(t) on the site. However, the Soviet tanks faced a limitation of their own; they were short on armor-piercing ammunition. To minimize their exposure while still covering the bridge, they pulled back to a defilade position, continuing to keep the Panzers in check.

On the scene, Colonel Rothenburg, the German commander, quickly called in Luftwaffe support. The air force arrived shortly, unleashing high-explosive bombs on and around the Soviet positions in the northern sector. Just prior to this, the T-34s had received reinforcements in the form of additional T-28 medium tanks. Together, they formed a defensive line that kept the Germans just out of range of the Panzers’ light armament. While this confrontation unfolded at the northern bridge, more Panzers began crossing the southern bridge, only to encounter BT-7 tanks waiting to engage them. A minor stalemate developed in both sectors, but the Soviets quickly began to show signs of weakening. Unlike their German counterparts, they lacked the staying power needed to hold their ground under pressure. As evening fell, it became evident that the Soviets’ failure to provide adequate support for their tanks was detrimental. They struggled without sufficient infantry, artillery, and air support to bolster their defenses. Finally, the Germans managed to break through, regaining momentum and resuming their drive forward.

The next morning, the Soviet 5th Tank Division withdrew, having suffered substantial losses, approximately 70 tanks in total. This included at least 27 of the modern T-34s, which were in short supply during the early days of the war. Tragically, many of these tanks were lost due to operator error; two of them accidentally drove into the river, resulting in complete losses. The Germans, on the other hand, incurred losses of around 30 tanks, though only 11 of these were total losses. Significantly, all of the Soviet losses were irrecoverable, a stark contrast to the German experience. Several factors contributed to this discrepancy, but the most apparent was the chaotic nature of the Soviet retreat. The Soviets often fell back in disarray, which hindered their ability to recover and salvage their equipment. Even if they had been more organized, it remains questionable how well-equipped the Soviet Tank Divisions were with recovery equipment. The tables of organization of the Soviet Tank Division in 1941 authorized one crane truck and twenty recovery tractors. Most sources do not cover the status of this type of auxiliary equipment but considering what we know about the poor state of the authorized tank strengths, it is unlikely that any division had the proper recovery vehicles in place during the first days and weeks of the war. In the early weeks of the war, the Germans clearly excelled in this critical aspect of military operations, allowing them to maintain their momentum while the Soviets struggled to regroup.

Whatever delays and casualties these early Soviet counterattacks caused the German forces, the horrendous losses on the Soviet side have often led literature to portray a one-sided conflict that favors the narrative of an unrelenting German blitzkrieg. This focus tends to obscure an important reality: from the earliest stages of the war, German losses were far from negligible. Typically, German casualties did not stem from large-scale battles in conventional engagements with the Red Army. Instead, they were primarily the result of the disintegration of organized Soviet fighting formations. The breakdown in command and control led to numerous smaller skirmishes that, while not significant on their own, collectively inflicted a substantial toll on the invading forces. On only the third day of conflict, Halder noted that casualties were “bearable,” but he added, “Remarkably high losses among officers.” During this period, Soviet tactics, though crude, proved effective. Engagements were often initiated by small groups of Soviet soldiers, who would ambush unsuspecting German forces from carefully selected positions. This approach leveled the playing field against the German superiority in heavy weapons, mobility, and air power. The dense Belarusian forests and high summer cornfields provided excellent cover for these Soviet troops, allowing them to prepare ambushes along the roads essential to the German advance. As German columns stretched longer across the countryside, gaps inevitably opened between the fast-moving Panzers and the slower-trudging infantry. This left poorly defended supply columns exposed to attacks, even from small groups of soldiers without heavy weaponry. This situation sparked an immediate and effective form of guerrilla resistance, executed by soldiers armed with military-issued equipment rather than untrained peasants.

By June 24, the 3rd Panzer Group reported that the forests were teeming with fugitive Soviet soldiers who were “attacking from the flank and rear,” causing unrest and “slowing the advance.” Therefore, a request was made for reserves from Colonel-General Adolf Strauss’s 9th Army to be dispatched to “clean out the woods.” However, the vast area in question made this an impossible task, especially given the limited German reserves. In fact, at no point in the war did German security forces succeed in eliminating partisan resistance in Belarus. On the contrary, these forces only grew in number and effectiveness. A similar pattern of attacks plagued the 2nd Panzer Group’s rear area from the outset of the war. A former officer from the 3rd Panzer Division observed: “During the first two days of combat, unarmored troops and rear echelons suffered considerable losses inflicted by hostile enemy troops cut off from their main bodies. They hid beside the march routes, opened fire by surprise, and could only be defeated in intense hand-to-hand combat. German troops had not previously experienced this type of war.”

Now to the south of the Alytus area lay the Bialystok Salient, a broad protrusion of Soviet lines extending into German-controlled Poland. This salient was flanked by German forces on both its northern and southern sides, stretching approximately 250 kilometers at its widest point. The fortress of Brest anchored the southern end of the front along the Bug River. The dividing line between the Soviet Northwestern and Western Fronts ran just south of Alytus, creating a distinct advantage for Hoth’s Panzers as they operated along this divided area of responsibility. The bulk of the opposing Western Front forces remained concentrated within the Bialystok Salient. Although the utter disarray engulfing the Soviet Western Front positioned most of their counter-moves for failure, the impact of the Red Army’s new tanks was evident even in the most one-sided encounters. In an attempt to cut off the German penetration and seal the dangerous breach in the Soviet front, Lieutenant-General Dmitri Pavlov, the commander of the Western Front, launched frantic counterattacks on June 24 and 25 against the left wing of Army Group Centre using his 11th and 6th Mechanized Corps. The 11th Mechanized Corps was comparatively weak, equipped with only 60 T-34s and KV-1s, supported by 200 older T-26s and BT series tanks. In contrast, the 6th Mechanized Corps fielded 960 tanks, with approximately half being the newer medium and heavy T-34 and KV-1 designs.

Unfortunately, plagued by communication issues and a lack of precise intelligence, the Soviet offensive was hopelessly ill-coordinated. As a result, it missed its intended target, Hoth’s 3rd Panzer Group, and instead collided with the 20th and 8th Army Corps of the advancing 9th Army. Even before making contact, the counterattack, directed by Pavlov’s skilled operations officer, Lieutenant-General Ivan Boldin, was severely hindered by the relentless aerial assaults of Colonel-General Wolfram von Richthofen’s 8th Air Corps. Boldin’s scattered forces endured heavy losses even trying to reach their designated assembly areas in the Lunna–Indura–Sokolka region south of Grodno. His long, armored convoys became easy targets for the formidable Ju-87 Stuka dive bombers, which in some cases were equipped with phosphorus bombs. Complicating matters further, the T-34s and KV-1s had only recently been introduced to the two Mechanized Corps, arriving in April and May 1941. Many KV-1s still lacked ammunition, and crews for the new models were assigned only in late May and early June, leaving training rudimentary at best.

As a result, Boldin’s counter-stroke was merely a shadow of its intended strength. Nevertheless, the sight of massed Soviet tanks, particularly the newly seen T-34s and KV-1s, instilled panic among the German Panzerjäger anti-tank units as they watched round after round bounce off the Soviet armor. Urgent requests for more armor-piercing shells were sent out, while Richthofen’s squadrons provided critical close-air support. The near-total absence of aerial cover cost the Soviets dearly, and the offensive soon devolved into another catastrophic defeat with heavy losses. However, two significant factors emerged from this engagement. First, the battle delayed the advance of the 9th Army’s right wing and widened the gap between the 3rd Panzer Group and its infantry support. More importantly, this confrontation exposed the vulnerability of German units to attacks by the latest Soviet tank models, which, with Soviet factories now working at a furious pace, posed a dire threat for the Germans if the war dragged on beyond its expected timeframe.

A report about a junior Soviet officer, Lieutenant Pavel Gudz, commanding five KV-1s and two T-34s on the southern front during the war’s first day captures the scene vividly: “The Germans started bombing the column... A shell from a German anti-tank gun bounced off the tank’s heavy armor... Gudz, who was both the tank’s gunner and commander, fired a single shot in return, destroying the enemy gun. He and his platoon went on to knock out five German tanks, three armored personnel carriers, and several cars. After lunch, the Germans attacked again, and Gudz disabled three more tanks. His driver, Galkin, rammed another German tank, dislodging its track and forcing it into a ditch. The fields were covered with burned-out tanks and dead Germans.”

On June 25, elements of the 57th Panzer Corps, under General of Panzers Kuntzen captured Vilnius, while the 39th Panzer Corps, under General of Panzers Schmidt began advancing toward Minsk. They executed a wide flanking maneuver behind the Soviet 3rd Army, effectively trapping them in the early stages of what would evolve into the Bialystok-Minsk encirclement. Despite his firm belief that Army Group Centre's top priority should be the closure of the encirclement at Minsk, Halder favored sending elements of both Panzer groups toward the Dvina and Dnepr rivers to secure bridgeheads for the next stage of the advance. On June 29, Halder recorded in his diary for the first time his objective for Army Group Centre: the attack on Moscow. He expressed hope for the seizure of Rogachev and Mogilev along the Dnepr, stating that this would "open the road to Smolensk and, from there, the course to Moscow."

Meanwhile, at Hitler's headquarters, a very different picture was emerging. Hitler was also considering the continuation of the campaign following the elimination of the pocket. The critical question was whether the main thrust of operations should be directed toward Moscow or Leningrad. Field Marshal von Brauchitsch of the OKH was known to be in attendance at the Wolf's Lair on June 29, and while the records do not specify, he likely recommended the Moscow option to Hitler. Even if he did not, he certainly would have supported it. However, Hitler was more inclined to focus on cutting the Soviets off from the Baltic Sea, thereby denying them access to the North Sea. This strategy would secure Germany’s ore transports from Scandinavia and allow for the concentration of Finland’s strength for their attack in the east. Regarding an eventual thrust on Moscow, Hitler argued that an advance on Leningrad would secure the left flank of the later operation, and that, for the time being, the Soviet capital should simply be subjected to bombing. The following day, June 30, Hitler expanded on these sentiments, asserting that the addition of Panzer forces from Army Group Centre would facilitate the rapid seizure of Leningrad’s industrial area and that only after this should the attack on Moscow be launched.

In more immediate concerns, Brauchitsch reported that Hitler was once again expressing nervous anxiety about the depth of Schweppenburg’s 24TH Panzer Corps, which had reached Bobruisk and was building a bridgehead on the eastern bank of the Beresina River on June 29. Brauchitsch reassured Hitler that this was simply flank protection for the main operation at Minsk. However, Halder, who was not present but later received a report from Brauchitsch, recognized that Guderian would settle for nothing less than the quickest possible crossing of the Dnepr. Halder personally supported Guderian in this endeavor. Yet, Hitler remained concerned that the 24th Panzer Corps had over-extended itself. He forbade army command from issuing any further orders for the eastward advance of the Panzer Corps, effectively tying Halder's hands.

Halder regarded this as a grave mistake but was unwilling to concede command of the campaign to Hitler. In his diary, Halder defiantly stated: “Let us hope that the middle levels of command will do the right thing on their own and without express orders, which we cannot issue because of the Führer’s orders to Brauchitsch.” A strict interpretation of his orders prohibited him from issuing a command to advance, but it did not explicitly require him to forbid action if it was undertaken independently by the generals themselves, which he assumed it would be. Using this tenuous reasoning, Halder convinced himself that he could still achieve his objectives without disobeying orders. While Germany’s leading generals clashed among themselves and with Hitler’s headquarters over direction for the eastern campaign, infighting among Germany’s political institutions was even more intense. Headed by some of the most unscrupulous personalities in the Third Reich, notably Hermann Göring and Heinrich Himmler, each man vied for the largest slice of the lucrative Soviet prize, seeking to expand their respective empires within the internal authorities of the Nazi state. Observing this chaotic scene, Goebbels, who himself was embroiled in a dispute with the OKW and the designated minister for the new eastern territories, Alfred Rosenberg, over the dissemination of propaganda complained in his diary: “Always the same thing: spheres of authority.” He astutely added: “If we go down, it will be as a result of these disputes.”

Earlier, during the afternoon of June 22, German assault guns from the 8th Infantry Division took Grodno. As they advanced, they encountered the 29th Tank Division. Unfortunately for the Red Army, the local commander, Colonel Studnev, was not among the most competent leaders. Mistaking the assault guns for Panzers, he decided to engage from a distance. His poorly trained gunners wasted their ammunition with ineffective shots. Recognizing that their assault guns were unlikely to achieve significant results, the Germans took cover and called in close air support. Ju-87 Stuka dive bombers swiftly arrived and began attacking the stationary Soviet tanks. Meanwhile, the 8th Infantry Division engaged with their artillery, proving effective in destroying several light tanks. After enduring four hours of this combined arms assault, Studnev's men retreated, having lost 33 tanks while inflicting only a couple dozen casualties on the invaders. Importantly, this delay did not significantly hinder the Germans; in fact, the Panzers were never present in the area. They were busy pushing east and north at breakneck speed, seeking to envelop the very units that were so eagerly rushing to the border within the growing pocket.

On the southern half of the developing encirclement was the 2nd Panzer Group under Colonel General Guderian. His group represented the largest concentration of armored forces ever assembled in the short history of the Wehrmacht. Guderian was a prima donna by reputation even at this early stage of the war. However, he was a daring commander who never hesitated to argue with his higher command. He schemed to increase his responsibility and resources. In the initial stages of Operation Barbarossa, Guderian's Panzer Group faced one of the longest marches to its objective: Minsk, situated over 400 kilometers from their starting point. For comparison, the march of the 3rd Panzer Group was notably shorter at only 300 kilometers. It was also anticipated that Guderian’s route would encounter some of the stiffest enemy resistance. The first week yielded mixed results. The Brest Fortress could not be overwhelmed and needed to be bypassed; infantry units from Field Marshal Kluge’s 4th Army were assigned to reduce it instead. Guderian’s tanks faced Red Army units immediately upon crossing the Bug River on the morning of June 22. The 14th Mechanized Corps launched a counterattack en masse, deploying over 200 tanks. However, nearly all of these were outdated light tanks from the previous decade. The newer and more advanced models, which were causing other German Panzer units significant trouble elsewhere along the front, were conspicuously absent from Guderian's opposition. Several factors combined to give the Panzers a decisive edge in this engagement. The T-34, KV-1 and KV-2 were still in limited production runs and would not make up the bulk of the Red Army’s armor forces until later in the war. Exact dates are disputed but it is likely that by late 1943 this generation of designs dominated the front-line armor units. Of course, on no side during the war was tank development static and many sub-models and evolutions of designs were admitted into service; some were better than others. They enjoyed tactical surprise, demonstrated superior organization, and had ready access to close air support, among other advantages. As a result, the Soviet counterattack was halted in its tracks, leading to severe losses bialfor the Red Army. While the Germans did suffer some tank losses, the counterattack had not significantly hindered their progress.

In the following days, Marshal Timoshenko, as the commander of the entire field army, sought to galvanize the Western Front into utilizing its armor to counter the invading forces. He directed several armored units to retake Grodno, still unaware that no Panzer units were present in the city. The 6th Mechanized Corps was ordered to march on Grodno and expel the Germans. The Luftwaffe’s extensive commitment to Army Group Center once again proved effective, as aerial reconnaissance detected the approaching tank columns on June 23. This intelligence was promptly relayed to 8th Flying Corps Headquarters, which dispatched aircraft to attack the advancing columns. Under the command of Colonel General Richthofen, the Luftwaffe destroyed 63 tanks, causing significant disruption to the Soviet march. Richthofen was a cousin of the infamous Red Baron of World War One fame, Captain Manfred von Richthofen. He was an ace in his own right and would go on to the highest levels of command in World War Two. He was an ardent supporter of Hitler and accepted bribes and other extra-legal benefits in the dictator’s service. He spent the last months of his life as an American POW before succumbing to a brain tumor in July 1945.

When the 6th Mechanized Corps arrived in the Grodno area, it was a formidable force, on paper, the strongest collection of armor in the Red Army. Under Major General Khatskilevich, the corps boasted at least 100 KV tanks, nearly 200 T-34s, and hundreds of light tanks. However, there were significant logistical challenges. The light tanks required gasoline, while the medium and heavy tanks operated on diesel. This discrepancy meant that logistics would need to provide two types of fuel, with stocks depleting at uneven rates. Unfortunately for Khatskilevich, the closest major supply depot in Bialystok had been destroyed, forcing him to rely on his next supply source in Vawkavysk, located 75 kilometers to his rear. Recognizing the urgency, he sent whatever resources he could back to retrieve more fuel supplies. For the moment, the 6th Mechanized Corps found itself hindered by this fuel shortage. Additionally, the lack of radios and other communication equipment made it impossible to coordinate any action with the 11th Mechanized Corps. As a result, while the previously mentioned 29th Tank Division was enduring a devastating assault, Khatskilevich was unable to provide any assistance.

Only on June 24 did Major General Khatskilevich order an assault. Due to the ongoing diesel shortage, he could only deploy his light tanks, which were poorly positioned and ran directly into prepared anti-tank defenses. The attack was repulsed. On June 25, he attempted again, this time incorporating his medium and heavy tanks. However, success remained elusive. There was essentially little to no effective combination of artillery, infantry, and air support with the tanks, unlike the coordinated assaults the Germans had consistently demonstrated in the early days of the campaign. Consequently, any localized moments of success were swiftly crushed by the Wehrmacht’s combined arms approach, as the beleaguered Soviet tanks attacked in waves of increasing desperation. While the Soviet heavy tanks proved daunting for the Germans to handle, they, too, suffered from inept crews and poor coordination. Eventually, these tanks were either abandoned or destroyed by close-range heavy anti-tank fire. It wasn't until late in the afternoon that Western Front Headquarters realized they were squandering their armor. The Wehrmacht had not concentrated its armor at Grodno but had instead positioned it on the flanks of the salient. In horror, Pavlov recognized this too late and ordered the remnants of the 6th and 11th Mechanized Corps to pull back and cover Slonim to prevent Guderian from cutting off their main line of retreat. Unfortunately, this retreat did not go well; it effectively broke the units, leaving them as little more than a disorganized mob. The 17th Panzer Division arrived at Slonim late on the 24th, only to find the bridge blown. They quickly deployed pioneers to build a new bridge across the Schara River that night.

Meanwhile, the rest of the 47th Panzer Corps caught up and pushed through to Baranavichy. The Bialystok pocket was now all but closed. Although Guderian’s 2nd Panzer Group and Hoth’s 3rd Panzer Group still needed to reach Minsk, there was now little standing in their way. The 12th and 20th Panzer Divisions reached the outskirts of Minsk on June 26.

Contact finally established between Hoth and Guderian at Minsk, ostensibly closing the outer ring of the encirclement. However, in practice, the southeast side was far from being hermetically sealed. At Army Group Centre, Field Marshal Friedrich Fedor von Bock was anxious to advance toward the great rivers but was dismayed by the lost opportunities caused by higher command’s insistence on focusing on the Bialystok-Minsk pocket. Venting his frustration, Bock wrote: “That is the curse of the evil deed! If we turn near Minsk, there will inevitably be a stop there until the entire Bialystok-Minsk pocket has largely been cleared. I wanted to take possession of the Dnepr or at least the Beresina bridges quickly, so as not to have to fight for them later which, unfortunately, will now be the case!”

They began their assault the following day. The city was encircled by a ring of bunkers and fortifications, but these defenses were not manned with the full strength necessary for a proper hold. Minsk marked the easternmost point of an encirclement that had trapped the better part of three Soviet armies: the 3rd, 10th, and 13th Armies. These forces were loosely arranged in an oval stretching from Navahrudak in the west to Minsk in the east. The last major independent unit of the Western Front was the 4th Army, commanded by Major General Korobkov. He narrowly escaped encirclement along with his comrades near Minsk, primarily because Guderian’s Panzers had split him from the rest south of Baranovichi. While the 4th Army lived to fight another day, it suffered significant losses inside the pocket.

As Hoth’s Panzers assaulted Minsk, the fortifications continued to hold them back, resulting in casualties. The recent rainfall had turned the ground to mud, severely limiting their maneuverability as they fought through and around the city’s outskirts. Meanwhile, Guderian’s leading elements remained far from being able to seal the southern flank of the encirclement. The Luftwaffe relentlessly bombarded the city, causing widespread fires upon detonation. At one point, nearly half of Minsk was engulfed in flames, which made the defense of the city even more challenging. Finally, on June 28, the heart of Minsk was occupied by elements of the 12th Panzer Division. However, Guderian was still unable to close his end of the encirclement. It wasn’t until well after the fall of Minsk that his forces linked up with Hoth’s. By June 29, the encirclement was officially sealed, but there was just enough time for several units of the 13th Army to slip through the gap.

However, Guderian was blind to such problems, and his post-war memoir glossed over the incomplete nature of the encirclement, seeking instead to celebrate his achievements at Minsk as an outstanding success. Reflecting on the final days of June, Guderian wrote: “The Russian forces, which had been in the Bialystok area and had been attempting in vain to break through our encircling pincers, were now completely surrounded. The foundations had been laid for the first great victory of the campaign.” The confident tone of these reflections hid a more genuine picture of the fighting that Guderian had conveyed in a letter to his wife on June 27. After describing the initial days as "strenuous," he mentioned the loss of several officers who had been close to him and the sadness it caused. When discussing the Red Army, he noted with a hint of grim resignation: “The enemy resists bravely and bitterly. The fighting, therefore, is very hard. One just has to put up with it.” By nature, Guderian was not a pessimist; indeed, he had previously been accused of viewing events through an overly optimistic lens. His letter simply conveyed the character of the new war in the east, which was marked by fervent hostility and fanaticism, unlike anything he had encountered before.

By the end of June, a begrudging acknowledgment of the Red Army's unexpectedly zealous resistance was growing among upper circles of the Wehrmacht and the Nazi Party. This reflected the stark contrast between the reality of war and the elevated confidence that had consumed the German leadership prior to the launch of operations. For many, this realization was just beginning to take hold. While it would be too much to suggest that anyone doubted Germany's ultimate triumph, the shock of facing genuine resistance was palpable. On June 29, Goebbels noted in his diary: “The Russians are fighting bravely. Their command is functioning better than during the first few days.” The following day, he remarked: “In foreign countries, our military situation is, if anything, being judged rather too optimistically, even by our enemies. They think our Wehrmacht capable of the most amazing achievements.” By July 1, despite general satisfaction with developments, Goebbels conveyed a clear sense of unease: “The Russians are putting up more of a fight than one would have expected. Our losses in men and equipment are not completely insignificant.”

Similarly, Bock described the ongoing challenge of defeating the sizable Soviet armies, noting that the swift breakthroughs to Minsk had not fully achieved this goal. Unlike previous campaigns, where surrounded enemy units acknowledged their defeat and surrendered willingly, the Red Army was far more resistant. The implications for Operation Barbarossa were profound. Reviewing events in his rear area on June 28, Bock observed: “Our losses are not inconsiderable. Thousands of Russian soldiers are hiding in the forests, far behind the front, some in civilian clothes… catching them all is impossible given the tremendous size of the area. One hundred kilometers behind the front, at Siemiatycze, the 293rd Division is still fighting for a row of strongly fortified bunkers, which have to be taken one at a time. In spite of the heaviest fire and the employment of every means, the crews refuse to give up. Each one has to be killed one at a time.”

Meanwhile the infantry armies of Army Group Center advanced and began the process of reducing the pocket, but this was no easy task. Even when Red Army units surrendered, the sheer size of the encirclement made it difficult to manage. Many soldiers continued to fight and die long after the Wehrmacht’s generals had deemed the situation resolved. It would be several days before the pocket was officially declared liquidated. Fighting remained intense until the very end. This battle became known as the Bialystok-Minsk pocket. It marked the first major operational success of Operation Barbarossa and was one of the largest encirclements in modern military history, rivaled only by the Dunkirk pocket. The vast majority of the Western Front was either destroyed, encircled, or disintegrating as they retreated from the advancing Germans.

In the aftermath of sealing the encirclement, Hitler intervened in the chain of command and ordered the Panzers to halt their advance. This move echoed his earlier decisions during the lead-up to Dunkirk, driven by a similar fear: he was concerned that the Panzers would leave the infantry behind, exposing their long and fragile logistical lines to a counterattack. Colonel General Halder, in his role as chief of staff of the OKH, argued against this decision. He was nominally the man responsible for such strategic choices, and in previous wars, he would have had the authority to proceed as he saw fit. However, Halder underestimated Hitler’s resolve regarding this matter, a miscalculation he would continue to make throughout his tenure. Halder, at least externally, was a man of complex motivations. He was bribed by Hitler throughout his tenure. He was certainly aware of the racial motivations of the Nazi regime and was comfortable exercising command in an Army engaged in a war of genocide as a matter of course. At the same time, he was sympathetic to the July 20 plotters and their attempted assassination of Hitler. Acquitted of war crimes, after the war he would go on to lay the groundwork behind the myth of the “Clean Wehrmacht.”

Ultimately, the Panzers were halted despite Halder's objections. Meanwhile, the Soviet leadership was distraught but determined to continue the fight. Much of the Nazi leadership believed that the Soviet Union could not withstand such a severe blow as they had delivered at Minsk. They thought they had kicked in the door and expected the entire structure to crumble. They were mistaken. Stalin would not permit the Soviet Union to fall so easily. Timoshenko was appointed to lead the Western Front in Pavlov’s stead, and he immediately set about organizing defenses in front of Smolensk. The enemy's objective was now clear: the Panzers aimed to continue their advance along the Brest-Minsk-Smolensk-Moscow route. It was Timoshenko’s task to halt their progress.

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Army Group Center advanced relentlessly, supported by a powerful Luftwaffe. Initial successes against poorly prepared Soviet troops gave rise to confidence, but logistical issues soon hampered German operations. As Soviet forces regrouped, fierce counterattacks emerged, revealing their resilience. The chaotic response from Soviet command only deepened their losses. Within days, the Germans encircled vast Soviet armies at Bialystok-Minsk, marking a significant operational victory.