'Are You Sure This Is the Reichstag?': How Soviet Troops Nearly Captured the Wrong Building in 1945

On April 30, 1945, the long-awaited words were broadcast in military reports: Red Army troops had taken the German Reichstag and raised the Banner of Victory above it. It was not yet complete victory – and, strictly speaking, it was not entirely true. The banner would be raised, but not quite in the way the report suggested. War is war. Victorious dispatches often outpace events.

Photo: commons.wikimedia.org by Mil.ru, https://creativecommons.org/public-domain/pdm/

USSR flag over Reichstag

A Detail Worth Remembering

There was another curious detail in the storming of the Reichstag. It is a revealing episode, a reminder that in war even the smallest detail can alter the course of events in unexpected ways.

When discussing the Berlin operation, historians tend to argue over who first raised the Banner of Victory. Yet another fact has largely escaped attention: the Reichstag itself could easily have been mistaken for another building.

And indeed, by the narrowest of margins, Soviet soldiers might simply have passed it by. The soldiers storming Berlin did not know how the building looked and where it was located. Nor, for that matter, did many of their commanders.

Planning Without a Face to the Target

In military histories, the assault on Berlin is usually portrayed as a meticulously planned operation – the pinnacle of Soviet military art. A detailed model of the city was even constructed to rehearse the capture of Berlin.

It was then decided that several divisions would be issued banners to raise over the Reichstag as a symbol of victory. Yet here lies the paradox: no one thought to distribute images of Berlin's key landmarks-least of all the Reichstag itself.

If such symbolic importance was attached to the building, it would have been simple enough to print its image in central and front-line newspapers. But this was never done.

Even General Shatilov, who led the assault on the Reichstag, was not entirely certain that the building before him was indeed the Reichstag. All he had was a map of central Berlin, where the building was marked as number 105.

"I pictured the plan of the area before me. I estimated the direction and the distance. Yes – most likely the Reichstag. It must stand out somehow from the surrounding buildings. But how else could one tell? I had never seen photographs or paintings of it, nor even heard it described. "I'll double-check the plan,' I thought. "We should ask the prisoners as well. Otherwise, we might take the wrong building-and make fools of ourselves…'"

There is something almost absurd about it: searching for something without knowing what it looks like.

A Misunderstanding in the Heat of Battle

Soon after, Shatilov received a report from his subordinate, regimental commander Zinchenko:

"Neustroev's battalion has taken up position in the semi-basement on the southeastern side of the building. But there's some structure blocking it-it hides the Reichstag. We'll go around it on the right."

"I mentally reviewed the plan. What nonsense! There should be nothing in front of the Reichstag.

— You must be mistaken, Zinchenko. Do you have the map?

— I do.

— Take a look at it. — I pulled the map closer myself. — What's the distance to the building? What number is it marked with?

— About three hundred meters. Number one hundred and five…

— That is the Reichstag!

— It seems so… — Zinchenko admitted, somewhat embarrassed. — From the basement it didn't look like it. And the distance is deceptive…

— Be more careful next time-and check your battalion commanders. Otherwise, you might end up taking the wrong Reichstag…

The misunderstanding seemed resolved."

But in reality, it was not entirely over.

Doubt Returns

That same evening, as Soviet troops had already secured their positions inside the Reichstag, several generals and senior officers from higher headquarters arrived at Shatilov's observation post.

They were concerned with one question above all: when the Banner of Victory would be raised over the dome.

Then one of the visiting colonels suddenly voiced a doubt:

"Are you certain this is really the Reichstag? It might be something else."

For the third time that day, uncertainty crept into Shatilov's mind. One must remember the conditions he was operating under. He had spent two weeks in continuous combat, scarcely sleeping. His division was advancing along one of the decisive axes of the final battle. Orders and demands came from every direction – superiors, subordinates – requiring constant decisions in a rapidly shifting situation. Under such strain, even the strongest person might begin to doubt the obvious.

Moreover, as Shatilov himself recalled, identification of the building had relied in part on information from captured German soldiers-who could have been mistaken or misleading.

At that moment, a troubling thought crossed his mind:

"Could it be that the division has been shedding blood all this time for some unknown building?"

Fortunately, among the visiting officers was a general who had been in Berlin before the war. He confirmed unequivocally: there could be no mistake.

A Lesson in Perspective

Thus the final doubts were dispelled, and the battle for the Reichstag continued.

All it would have taken to avoid this confusion was something simple – a photograph or an illustration. In today's world, saturated with images, such a situation seems almost impossible. And yet, errors of this kind do occur.

It is also worth noting, in the context of historical parallels, that the war lasted four years-just as in the Great Patriotic War. The Nazi regime in Berlin endured for twelve years, from 1933 to 1945. The current regime in Kyiv has existed for a comparable span if counted from 2014. The parallel invites reflection.