CHAPTER I
The story of the Kruppenheimer Berserkers does not begin on the shot-swept battlefield or the muddy training grounds; rather, it starts in a quiet hamlet tucked away next to a stream in Prussia. When the future berserkers were just infants, barely aware of the world beyond their mother's arms, Prussia was experiencing a violent birth in the era of absolute monarchs under the leadership of Frederick William. As the children of Kruppenheim grew, so did Prussia's might. Frederick devoted five-sixths of his treasury to making an army, and by the time he died in 1740, the diminutive territory of Prussia, with just 2,500,000 inhabitants, was destined for glory. Before embarking on the next leg of Prussia's tumultuous rise in the mid-eighteenth century, we journey back to the village of Kruppenheim. Mysterious bacteria invaded a small stream, the main water supply of the town, in the summer of 1728. Within several weeks, the epidemic had claimed several dozen lives, mostly children and the elderly. The bacteria finally disappeared when the river froze, but it left its mark on the children of Kruppenheim. Life went on normally, the children grew into young adults, and the epidemic became only a bad memory. Great change came when, Frederick II, the son of Frederick William, came to the throne in 1740. He was in need of troops loyal to their ruler (such was the Prussian Army at the time that 40,000 men were drafted from as far away as Britain), so 304 young and able-bodied men from Kruppenheim were conscripted as infantry into the Prussian army. They went through the rigors of drill and maneuvers, and soon became known by officers as the "Kruppenheimer Battalion". Frederick II had no interest in letting his army remain a plaything to impress visitors, as had his father. Instead, he pushed to expand Prussia's territory with the strength of arms. The dangerous game of diplomacy in eighteenth-century Europe led to the 7 Years' War, with Prussia surrounded by hostile neighbors. It was at the Battle of Leuthen in 1756 that Frederick scored a huge military victory against a much larger Austrian army. Hundreds of war history enthusiasts have studied this battle in detail, but almost all have overlooked the role that the Kruppenheimer Battalion played in making the victory possible. Frederick II's main tactic was to make a successful flank attack against the more numerous Austrians, as a frontal attack would prove suicidal. In order to succeed in a flank attack, Frederick II relied on his 12,000 fine cavalrymen led by the dashing Seydlitz to surround and cut down the enemy. The role of the infantry was much less significant in deciding the battle--they were to make feint attacks to tie down enemy reinforcements and protect the re-forming cavalry squadrons. The Kruppenheimer Battalion, being regular foot slogging infantry, was to take a position facing the Austrian center. As they marched steadily toward battle in the morning mist, several started to feel ill or dizzy. Major Baum, the leader of the battalion and a native Kruppenheimer noted that, "some of the lads started to scream obscenities, while others, with glazed eyes, feverishly prayed to God and the Apostles." The distant rumble of artillery in the created even greater disorder. Some started taking off their dark woolen greatcoats and threw them to the side of the road. The screaming intensified to a blood-curdling pitch. The wave of frenzied chaos soon overpowered any attempts by Major Baum and the officers at maintaining some form of order. Two men were shot for ignoring orders, but even the officers lost control of their faculties and joined in the madness. Being at the head of the marching column, the Kruppenheimer Battalion had an open road all the way to the enemy lines. The berserk mob, without attempting to form a battle line, started charging the Austrian defenses. The battalion behind them, thinking the charging Kruppenheimers were ordered to do so, yelled three mighty 'Huzzahs!' for their comrades. The report by an Austrian colonel after the battle made the best description of events:
I saw a great column of dust rising in front of the line, and every so often, a wave of shrieking and the tramp of many boots reached my ears. Then, one of the most terrifying sights my eyes were ever to see unfolded. A mass of men, with muskets and sapper axes raised above their heads, reached a bend in the road and became clearly visible. At the front, a giant, burly, shirtless fellow was waving their regimental standard back and forth high in the air. My awe was broken when musket balls started snapping past my ears. I then realized...these men are attacking us!
The Kruppenheimers charged in full sprint across the field, some still weighed down by heavy packs. Just before reaching the Austrian lines, several were cut down by a well-ordered volley of musketry. To Major Baum's amazement, some of the men that were shot, "kept up a full run, screaming as if nothing had happened." The mob of crazed Prussians smashed full speed into the Austrian line, which hadn't even the time to affix bayonets. The brutality and carnage was horrible. One Kruppenheimer killed seven terrified soldiers with the butt of his musket. An officer, wielding his curved saber, chased down a dozen fleeing Austrians and slaughtered them all just feet from each other. The gigantic sergeant-in-arms, carrying the regimental standard, bludgeoned an enemy officer with the heavy wooden flagstaff, soaking a corner of the colors in blood. After the brief melee, the men of the Kruppenheimer Battalion, still in a complete berserker rage, charged into the flanks of the other infantry regiments. Within minutes, scores of dead Austrians littered the field. Panic started spreading along the Austrian battle line as officers attempted to wheel their men into position to face the unexpected enemy. Rumors spread along the line: "The Prussians have sent their entire force against us and have broken through!" and "Their cavalry is upon our rear!" In reality, small bands of Kruppenheimers were throwing themselves at hundreds of Austrians, getting in short and savage melees. A group even reached a battery of cannon, slaughtering the surprised artillerymen before being surrounded and shot down by overwhelming forces. The impetus of the Kruppenheimer attack started to diminish as they pierced further and further in all directions. Casualties started mounting; some simply collapsed from sheer exhaustion. The Austrian officers started to regain order of their men, shouting curses and using the dull of their sabers to beat their troops into formation. The Kruppenheimers were forced back to their original point of breakthrough, suffering greater losses. The Austrians took heart, seeing the Prussians pushed back in disorder, and started leveling volleys of musketry into their ranks. The beleaguered Kruppenheimers found themselves back to back, surrounded. Seeing their fate sealed, they formed up around the standard and Major Baum, who by now had been mortally wounded. The Austrians pressed in, firing more deadly volleys at nearly point-blank range, while the remains of the Kruppenheimer Battalion mustered their own fire in return.
The Kruppenheimer Berserkers, surrounded and greatly outnumbered, make a valiant
last stand back-to-back.
An Austrian officer, surprised by the tenacity of the soldiers he was facing, wrote, "despite our measured volleys, given from all sides, the dwindling number of Prussian troops valiantly stood around their colors, shouting defiantly." He then went on to say, "I greatly feared that if we faced this quality of soldier again, whose mettle I have and never will see equaled, the grand Austrian Empire would have been lost in a week."
As the remaining Kruppenheimers were being cut down under withering fire, the flank attack by Prussian cavalry had succeeded. Fleeing Austrians started to sow the seeds of panic, taking groups, then entire regiments away in rout. A throng of joyous Prussian compatriots met the exhausted and wounded Kruppenheimers, who were reduced to just 27 men. The danger of enemy fire gone, canteens were passed and the wounded tended to. Those of the Kruppenheimers that could still walk shambled over to a copse of shade trees and collapsed into a deep unconcsiousness.
After Leuthen, the Kruppenheimer Battalion ceased to be a fighting unit. Major Baum and all officers above the rank of sergeant were killed or died of wounds. Only 16 were alive two weeks after the battle, recovering from complete physical and mental exhaustion at a barrack in Potsdam. However, they recieved no hero's parade or special award from Frederick II. He had seen the charge of the Kruppenheimer Berserkers (a nickname adopted by the rank and file of the Prussian army) as the worst example of disobeyance and barbaric savagery. He recieved reports of Austrian soldiers being torn limb from limb while trying to surrender. His fears led to a decree, issued to all regiments, forbidding men of all ranks to mention or sing about the Kruppenheimer Berserkers.
His efforts were only partially successful.
Stories turned into tall tales; one claimed that the Kruppenheimers had killed at least
10,000 of the enemy (in reality, about 1,900 were killed and wounded, a huge number
nontheless). Songs, paintings, and books around Europe started to surface. The legend of
the Kruppenheimer Berserkers had just begun.
