Tens of thousands of German soldiers marched into captivity and an uncertain future. Their Soviets captors were scarcely in a forgiving mood. In Belorussia, where trackless forest hid nests of partisans, the viscous cycle of terror and counter terror initiated by the Nazis spiraled down to lowest depths of humanity.
If this were not enough, the German army destroyed everything that could be of use to the advancing Soviet juggernaut- leaving behind a scorched wasteland. Bagration had torn a mile-long hole into the German front. Only the wings of a reeling AGC were still able to put up a fight. In the north, the Third Panzer Army held on, while to the south, the Second Army fought for its life.
Every German reserve was rushed in to stem the Soviet tide bursting forth, ever further, westward, toward Poland and the Fatherland. The roads were jammed with leaderless German soldiers streaming toward the west, while others pushed through the panicked mob to engage the oncoming enemy.
Soviet dive-bombers strafed their victims below. Artillery fire plastered the roads, collapsed houses and set them aflame. Holding Daugavpils was imperative to the Germans, who rushed reinforcements to the area.
The railway box carts rolled into the town and into Turmont to the south carrying division after division. When they got a chance, the stiff-legged Landsers German infantrymen relaxed beneath the pine trees, shaded from Soviet aircraft and the summer heat, to pass around the obligatory bottle of Schnapps. Then it was back into the transports and south through clouds of dust.
