It was April 1945, and we were slated to move into Kassel, Germany, to secure our building and personality targets as the US Army Infantry was occupying the city. But before we could enter, there came a change of orders: “Proceed immediately to Magdeburg; the Soviets have reached the far bank of the Elbe River, and we need to have a US presence on the near bank.”
We continued on the autobahn to reach Magdeburg. On both sides of the highway, there were German soldiers who rushed toward us with the apparent wish to surrender. They were hungry and had had enough of the war; no one was shooting at us anymore. For us, it was obvious that the war was over. Well, not exactly. We had word that there was still heavy fighting in Berlin, and with the lack of full insight into conditions elsewhere, there may have been other places where people were still shooting. But for now, they were not shooting where we were and not where we were going either.
We reached Magdeburg, and my captain immediately received a “Top Secret” map that showed the “Occupation Zones,” the exact boundaries of responsibility for British, French, Soviet, and US forces, as we were moving into the occupation phase of the war. The map was “Top Secret” because we did not want the Germans to know the occupation boundaries. Otherwise, they could choose which force they favored in the occupation and move themselves accordingly. On closer examination it was clear that we were in Magdeburg. The city and even areas further west until Helmstedt were going to be in the Soviet Zone. Additionally, Captain Remple had orders to cross the river and consult with the Soviets. Nobody told me anything. I was still the lowest-ranking man on our six-man intelligence team, but it was not too hard to guess that Captain Remple was going to tell the Soviets not to cross the river yet, not until we could withdraw. At that time, the Elbe River had been designated by General Eisenhower as the dividing line between us—the US, British, and French forces coming from the west—and the Soviet forces coming from the east. Eisenhower had made it clear that we should not cross the river—the armies thereby would not intermingle, and potential confrontations would be avoided. It was actually a wise order because the rumor mill, spurred on by the Germans, stated that the western Allies would move past the Germans, against the Soviet Communists, and the war would continue with changed friends and foes—that was utter nonsense!
For his mission, Captain Remple needed a Russian-speaking interpreter. He checked with all the T-Force, 12th Army Group teams in the area, and there was none. Now, he turned to me and said, “Cohn, you are my interpreter, get ready to come with me.” I was anxious to get out of this assignment, since I knew I could not be of any help. I told Captain Remple that I do not speak any Russian, I know only one word, “tovarish” (friend), and that’s all. No luck. He insisted and told me to carry the map.
Captain Remple enlisted a German boatman at the Elbe to take us across. We hopped on the boat, and at the river’s halfway mark, he rose up and assured himself that the Soviets knew it was an American who was approaching. We reached the shoreline, and to our utter surprise, we received the most endearing, raucous reception. The Russians yell “Hurrah!” They hug us, they kiss us, they lift us up and carry us around. They try to ply us with vodka—I am 19 years old and have never had a glass of vodka, but I could tell that I'd better limit that stuff, for sure. I had some cigarettes and could try to reciprocate. Yes, the cigarettes were appreciated. Of course, I was of no help to the captain; no one spoke anything but Russian, and finally they had to take him to their rear, where I guess they would find an English-speaking Russian interpreter. I was left at the river’s edge, trying to make conversation with the Russian speakers. A sergeant took a particular shine to me, and he gestured, “I’m from Moscow.” I replied, “I’m from New York.” He motioned, “You come to Moscow.” I replied, “You come to New York,” and so it continued. Finally, Captain Remple returned, all smiles, I guess it had gone well, and we returned to our side of the Elbe. We told about the wild reception that we had received. Pretty soon, all of that faded into the background, and we turned to our mission to secure our building and personality targets. There were now lots of people to be arrested; it seemed that the Germans preferred to be arrested by the Americans rather than the Russians. When V-E Day arrived on May 8, it was of no particular significance for us; we knew the war had been over for us for weeks. But the next day, we got orders to proceed to Wiesbaden, where T-Force, 12th Army Group was deactivated, and our team was dissolved. We all received separate orders and were disbursed. It was almost a tearful goodbye as each team member left on their own way. I ended up in the intelligence center in Oberursel, near Frankfurt, as a “document specialist,” not a very exciting title. But there I got a good job. I was issued a jeep and had to commute each day from Oberursel to Fechenheim on the other side of Frankfurt, where I met a squad of German POWs who helped me ship sensitive documents back to the United States, in support of the prosecution of war criminals. I also started receiving promotions, and pretty soon, I was promoted to staff sergeant, a position authorized for my job. Now, I also pulled sergeant of the guard, that is the guard force for the outer perimeter of high-ranking German prisoners confined at Oberursel; their names were unknown to us and were kept secret.
Not sure when this happened, but it was a long while after I crossed the Elbe. I woke up one morning at Oberursel, and it hit me. I suddenly understood why we had received such a dramatic reception after crossing the Elbe. It was really obvious, and I couldn’t understand why I had not thought of it before. The Germans, as they invaded Russia, had mistreated the Russians. And when the tide of battle turned, the Germans did not want to be taken prisoner by the Russians, who were taking their revenge. So, the Russians had to fight heavily all the way up to the Elbe River. When they finally saw Americans, they realized there were no more Germans in front of them—they had survived the war. They were celebrating their survival as they discovered and greeted us at the Elbe River.
Many years later, in 2003, a fellow retired officer, who had been a Russian linguist, confronted me with the remark that he had heard I’d met the Russians at the Elbe at the end of the war. He said that I should come to Arlington National Cemetery every April 25, where the Russian ambassador holds a ceremony at a marker that commemorates the meeting of US and Soviet forces at Torgau. I had never heard of this marker or the ceremony, and I told him that I was not at Torgau, where the first meeting occurred. I was at Magdeburg, where we met the Soviets, probably a couple of days later. He said no matter, just come.
I did, and there the Russian ambassador presided over a wreath-laying ceremony, where all the former Soviet republics, which were now separate nations and were still on speaking terms with the Russians, would bring their wreaths and, in sequence, place them next to the marker. The Russian wreath was finally laid as the last one, right on the marker. Russian school girls, who went to school in Washington, DC, brought some flowers and gave them to us few American veterans who attended the ceremony, and we placed the flowers on the marker, underneath the Russian wreath.
It seemed like a very awkward ceremony for us Americans. Why were we not properly represented, and why was there not an American wreath? I felt so strongly about that, and I wrote Senator John Warner of Virginia about it, who agreed. The next year, in 2004, a lieutenant colonel in uniform from the protocol office showed up, but no wreath, and, eventually, he just got lost in the shuffle.
I was told then that the next year, in 2005, there would be a bigger ceremony since it would be the 60th anniversary of the Torgau meeting. I thought that they might have a large reception at the Russian Embassy. But to my surprise, I received an invitation to come to Moscow, all expenses paid, to celebrate the meeting of US and Soviet forces at the Elbe. Sixty years earlier, I had been trying to get out of that detail! I was treated royally in Moscow; all that had to be said was that I was a World War II veteran who had met the Russians at the Elbe, and all doors were opened.
The next year, nothing much had changed at Arlington. There was still no American wreath. So, in 2007, I bought a wreath, a smaller one than what the former Soviets brought, but my wreath said that it was from the “Military Members of the United States.” When the Russians saw me with that wreath, they placed me at the head of the line, and my wreath was placed right next to the marker. I continued to bring a wreath every year. Then, in 2010, I was again invited to come to Moscow, but this time to celebrate Victory Day on May 9, the Russian V-E Day. I was therefore able to attend the April 25 ceremony at Arlington. This time, our Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff attended with a wreath, and he was met by his Russian counterpart. The State Department also came with a wreath, and my wreath was now third in line. But I was happy about the US participation; it was the correct thing to do. Would you believe that I was again invited back to Moscow in 2015 for the Elbe ceremony? I probably would have been invited in 2020, but the virus spoiled all that, as it did with the Arlington ceremony. And by 2023, the relationship with Russia had deteriorated to the point that the Russian ambassador was advised that he is no longer welcome at Arlington National Cemetery. History is being rewritten. Did World War II really end with a US-Soviet meeting at the Elbe River?
In retrospect, we really did receive a hearty welcome, along with the Russians celebrating their survival. At that time, we were their comrades-in-arms. And that spirit carried forward. It was important for the Russians to maintain that part of history, since it kept one lifeline available, to maintain at least one continuing cordial connection when everything else deteriorated. Can it remain friendly with the hope that better relationships may eventually return? And one more thought; you really can’t rewrite history as long as witness testimony documenting what really happened is retained.
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