Voices of the Soviet Space Program

Cosmonauts, Soldiers, and Engineers Who Took the USSR into Space

S. Gerovitch

• Publisher: Palgrave Macmillan
• Year: 2014
• ISBN:
  9781137481795
• Topic: History
• Subtopic: European History
• Index: History

In this remarkable oral history, Slava Gerovitch presents interviews with the men and women who witnessed Soviet space efforts firsthand. Rather than comprising a "master narrative, " these fascinating and varied accounts bring to light the often divergent perspectives, experiences, and institutional cultures that defined the Soviet space program.

Part I

The Soldiers

Chapter 1

Commanding Officer Abram Krayzman

July 20, 2008

Brighton, Massachusetts

Interviewer: Slava Gerovitch

The interview was conducted in Russian and translated by Slava Gerovitch.

Figure 1.1 Abram Krayzman (left) and Valery Spitkovsky, July 20, 2008 (photo by author).

Abram Krayzman was among the group of Soviet military officers who played a key role in the transfer of rocket technology and know-how from Germany to the Soviet Union in the wake of World War II, and he took an active part in the formation of the Soviet Missile Forces. His story vividly illustrates the origins of the Soviet space program in postwar missile developments and gives a glimpse of close interactions between the military and the early rocket engineers who would become well-known Soviet designers of space launchers and spacecraft.

Biographical Information

Abram Borisovich Krayzman was born on October 17, 1918, in Korosten, Ukraine. In October 1941 he completed accelerated training at the Stalin Armored Tank Academy in Moscow and joined the 15th Separate Guards Mortar (Katyusha) Battalion of the Reserve of the Supreme Commander-in-Chief. Krayzman served with Katyusha units throughout World War II. In 1946 he was appointed chief of the Technical Division and deputy chief of staff for technical intelligence of the Special Purpose Brigade of the Reserve of the Supreme Commander-in-Chief, stationed in occupied Germany. The brigade was created to master German rocket weaponry. He served as the commander of a military train that brought German V-2 equipment to the Soviet Union. Krayzman subsequently graduated from the Military Academy of Rear Services and Transport in Leningrad and served as the commander of a strategic missile unit. Engineer Colonel of the Guard Krayzman was awarded numerous medals for his military service. In 1991 he emigrated to the United States and lived in Brighton, Massachusetts. Krayzman published a book of memoirs, Abram of the Vintage 1918.¹ He died on September 23, 2012.

Gerovitch: What is your background? How did you come into contact with rocketry?

Krayzman: I was born on October 17, 1918, in a Jewish family in the town of Korosten near Zhytomyr in Ukraine. After I graduated from high school, my father died, and our family moved to Kiev. In 1937, I enrolled in the Kiev Industrial Institute. In July 1941, shortly after the beginning of the Great Patriotic War, I was called to military service. I was sent to the Stalin Armored Tank Academy in Moscow. In October 1941, I graduated in the officer rank as a military technician of the second rank. Among the 37 graduating officers, 11 were selected to join a military unit with new secret weapons. I became a military technician at the 15th Separate Guards Mortar (Katyusha) Battalion of the Reserve of the Supreme Commander-in-Chief.²

During the military parade on November 7, 1941, I marched through Red Square with my unit. The son of the Red Square unit commander was in our division, and this commander arranged for our unit to march through Red Square during the parade. I saw how Marshal Semyon Budennyy rode through the Spassky Gate of the Kremlin; his horse stumbled, but using his skills as a rider (at the age of 57!) he managed to hold on to the reins and sit up.³ It was snowing heavily, a veritable blizzard. The square was covered with snow. I also saw and heard a speech of Stalin.

On December 5, 1941, our battalion took part in its first combat. It played an important role in the German defeat in the battle for Moscow. That battle was the first sign that we were able to resist Hitler. He had colossal, well-mobilized forces, while our troops were unprepared for the war.

In 1943, on the basis of three Katyusha battalions (##12th, 15th, and 23rd), the 59th Guards Mortar Regiment was formed. I became deputy commander for technical issues. Our regiment took part in the Orel-Kursk operation. We stayed on the premises of a church, and there was a heavy bombing raid on our location. One Russian betrayed us, passing on information about the exact location of our regiment to the Germans. He was later caught. Our regiment suffered heavy losses. More than half of all mortars, 13 out of 24, were destroyed. Many people were killed, many injured. Among others, Natashenka, the chief surgeon of the regiment, was killed.

After that, I was sent with a group of soldiers to a location near Moscow to receive new Katyushas installed on American Studebaker trucks. I will never forget how our regiment welcomed the train of 24 new Katyushas. In a week we hit the Germans with the new Katyushas very hard. It felt so good! It was the first strike with Katyushas on new vehicles. We must thank the Americans for that! Soviet ZiS-6 trucks were not bad, but no match for the Studebakers, which had superior maneuverability, speed, distance, etc.⁴

Our regiment met the snowy winter of 1944 in Kareliya. It’s a land bitterly cold and harsh. We moved with great difficulty: the snow was 1–1.5 meters deep, and most importantly it was extremely difficult to camouflage the weaponry. Our army suffered heavy losses from German bombers, because the targets were easily visible. The military personnel suffered from biting winds and frost. To save themselves from the cold, soldiers made fires, and that made it easy for the Germans to find targets and bomb them. A strict order was issued not to light fires, with the threat of severe punishment, even being shot on the spot. A soldier who made a large fire one night was shot right in front of me. I will never forget that. The officer who shot him was carrying out an order, but I was infuriated by his action and told him, “The boy you’ve shot could have been your son; he was probably just seventeen.” He answered, “If my son did it, I would have shot him too.” That’s what war does to people!

Once, on a sunny spring day, our regiment commander Lt. Col. Grigoriy Trofimovich Frich invited the regiment commissar and me to come to his dugout to have a shave and breakfast together.⁵ While shaving, I proposed that all three of us keep the mustache and not shave it off. Everybody liked the idea, and Grigoriy Trofimovich said, “Let’s keep the mustache; the one who shaves it loses and must come to visit first after the war is over.” “That’s good,” I replied and added, “And if one is killed, he wins, and the others will take care of his family. I don’t like this gloom though. After shaving, let’s drink to life!” “Agreed,” said the commander, and since March 15, 1944, the three of us grew a mustache. Later, if one of us said over the radio, “It looks like I am winning,” this meant, “It’s dangerous, I can get killed.” We often used this code at perilous moments during combat.

I will never forget the dawn of April 16, 1945, the day we stormed Berlin. The entire sky was covered with all colors of the rainbow; the sound from the massive firing and explosions was incredibly forceful; and thousands of searchlights blinded the defensive positions of the enemy. Then an assault by the infantry, motorized, and tank units, supported by aviation, began. At first it seemed that the German defense would not withstand such powerful strikes. Yet our forces met fierce resistance and suffered enormous losses of personnel and weaponry.

In the entire Russian history, in both defensive and assault operations, we usually try to win by numbers, not by smarts, and we sustained tremendously huge losses that do not have any justification. To attack Berlin straight on, through the Seelow Heights, was truly a disaster.

Our regiment commander was always calm, cold-blooded, and rational. In those days of dangerous, tragic combat with immense human losses, however, the nerves often gave out. I talked to him many times over the radio, and besides giving me orders concerning technical support of Katyusha operations, he often said, “I can win today,” recalling the agreement we had made. I loved him not merely as a commander, but as a friend.

Gerovitch: Was Katyusha an effective weapon?

Krayzman: Very effective. Soldiers ran away in terror in all directions while they were firing. They fired at distances of 8 km. Each M-13 shell (13 cm diameter) weighed 41 kg. The firing zone of one batallion of Katyushas covered more than 1 hectare. Our regiment’s fire zone covered more than 3 hectares. Within 10 seconds, the regimen could fire 384 rockets at the enemy, that is, nearly 16 tons of explosives. It was a tremendous, mass destruction of the enemy forces. The Germans tried to capture Katyushas, but failed. By the end of the war there were many Katyusha military units—regiments, brigades, divisions . . .

After the war, our regiment was relocated to Wismar in the north of Germany and soon disbanded. I was transferred to the 92nd Guards Mortar Regiment under the command of Lt. Col. Petr Grigoryevich Chernenko and was appointed deputy commander for technical issues. The 92nd Regiment was stationed near the town of Sondershausen in the south of Germany. I arrived at the regiment on December 31, 1945, right in the middle of a New Year’s Eve banquet.

In the summer of 1946, on the basis of the 92nd Guards Mortar Regiment, the Special Purpose Brigade (BON) of the Reserve of the Supreme Commander-in-Chief was formed. General Aleksandr Fedorovich Tveretskiy was appointed brigade commander,⁶ Colonel Leonid Vasilyevich Smagliy became chief engineer, our former regiment commander Colonel Chernenko became deputy brigade commander. I was appointed chief of the Technical Division and also deputy chief of staff for technical intelligence.

Gerovitch: Which Soviet rocketry specialists did you meet?

Krayzman: I was lucky. The brigade was assigned the task of helping the a research institute, located in Nordhausen and, led by General Lev Mikhaylovich Gaydukov.⁷ We met with leading Soviet rocketry specialists: Sergey Pavlovich Korolev,⁸ Yuriy Aleksandrovich Pobedonostsev,⁹ Naum Lvovich Umanskiy,¹⁰ Boris Yevseyevich Chertok, Leonid Aleksandrovich Voskresenskiy,¹¹ Mikhail Klavdiyevich Tikhonravov,¹² and others.

Gerovitch: Can you tell about your meetings with Korolev?

Krayzman: We liked each other. I spent three years with him: two in Germany and almost one year in Kapustin Yar. Several times I traveled around Germany with Korolev. He was born in Zhytomyr, Ukraine, and I was born near Zhytomyr. Korolev joked that we were “relatives.” He was very glad to learn ...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title
• Introduction Multiple Perspectives on Soviet Space History
• Part I The Soldiers
• Part II The Engineers
• Part III The Cosmonauts
• Notes
• Selected Bibliography
• Index