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Heinz Wilhelm Guderian Heinz Wilhelm Guderian (17 June 1888 – 14 May 1954) was a German general during World War II. He was a pioneer in the development of armored warfare, and was the leading proponent of tanks and mechanization in the Wehrmacht (German Armed Forces). Germany's panzer (armored) forces were raised and organized under his direction as Chief of Mobile Forces. During the war, he was a highly successful commander of panzer forces in several campaigns, became Inspector-General of Armored Troops, rose to the rank of Generaloberst, and was Chief of the General Staff of the Heer in the last year of the war. Guderian was born in Kulm, West Prussia (now Chełmno, Poland). From 1901 to 1907 Guderian attended various military schools. He entered the Army in 1907 as an ensign-cadet in the (Hanoverian) Jäger Bataillon No. 10, commanded at that point by his father, Friedrich Guderian. After attending the war academy in Metz he was made a Leutnant (full Lieutenant) in 1908. In 1911 Guderian joined the 3rd Telegraphen-Battalion of the Prussian Army Signal Corps. On October 1, 1913, he married Margarete Goerne with whom he had two sons, Heinz Günter (born Aug 2nd 1914 to 2004) and Kurt (born 17 September 1918 to 1984). Both sons became highly decorated Wehrmacht officers during World War II; Heinz Günter became a Panzer general in the Bundeswehr after the war. 1
During World War I he served as a Signals and General Staff officer. This allowed him to get an overall view of battlefield conditions. He often disagreed with his superiors and was transferred to the army intelligence department, where he remained until the end of the war. This second as-
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signment, while removed from the battlefield, sharpened his strategic skills. He disagreed with German surrender at the end of World War I, believing German Empire should continue the fight writing "the most the Allies can do is to destroy us. After the war Guderian joined the nationalist paramilitary Freikorps as part of commanding staff of Eastern Frontier Guard Service. He would join the Iron Brigade (later known as Iron Division). Eventually Guderian joined the Iron Division as its second General Staff officer re-assert military's control over the formation. The plan had failed as Guderian's personal anti-communism dominated over the orders he received. Iron Division waged ruthless campaign in Lithuania and pushed into Latvia; traditional German anti-Slavic attitudes however prevented cooperation with Russian and Belarussian forces opposing Bolsheviks. During the division's advance on Riga it committed numerous atrocities as part of its ideological mission to "cleanse and clean", these events are omitted by Guderian in his memoirs. After the war, Guderian stayed in the reduced 100,000-man German Army (Reichswehr) as a company commander in the 10th Jäger-Battalion. Later he joined the Truppenamt ("Troop Office"), which was actually the Army's "General-Staff-in-waiting" (an official General Staff was forbidden by the Treaty of Versailles). In 1927 Guderian was promoted to major and transferred to the Truppenamt group for Army transport and motorized tactics in Berlin. This put him at the center of German development of armored forces. Guderian, who was fluent in both English and French studied the works of British maneuver warfare theorists J. F. C. Fuller and, debatably. B. H. Liddell Hart; also the writings, interestingly enough, of the then-obscure Charles de Gaulle. He translated these works into German. In 1931, he was promoted to Oberstleutnant (Lieutenant-Colonel) and became chief of staff to the Inspectorate of Motorized Troops under Generalleutnant (Major-General) Oswald Lutz. In 1933 he was promoted to Oberst (Colonel). During this period, he wrote many papers on mechanized warfare, which were seen in the German Army as authoritative. These papers were based on extensive wargaming without troops, with paper tanks and finally with armored vehicles. Britain at this time was experimenting with tanks under General Hobart, and Guderian kept abreast of Hobart's writings using, at his own expense, someone to translate all the articles being published in Britain. In October 1935 he was made commander of the newly created 2nd Panzer Division (one of three). On 1 August 1936 he was promoted to Generalmajor, and on 4 February 1938 he was promoted to Generalleutnant and given command of the XVI Army Corps. During this period (1936–1937), Guderian produced his most important written work, his book Achtung - Panzer! It was a highly persuasive compilation of Guderian's own theories and the armored warfare and combined-arms warfare ideas of other General Staff officers, expounding the use of airpower as well as tanks in future ground combat. The German panzer forces were created largely on the lines laid down by Guderian in Achtung - Panzer! The British Army was the first to conceive and attempt armoured warfare, and though British theorists were the first to propose the concept of "Blitzkrieg" (lightning warfare), the British did not fully develop it. During World War I, the German army had developed the idea of breaking through a static front by concentration of combined arms, which they applied in their 1918 Spring Offensive. But they failed to gain decisive results because the breakthrough elements were on foot and could not sustain the impetus of the initial attack. Motorized infantry was the key to sustaining a breakthrough, and until the 1930s that was not possible. Soviet marshal Mikhail Tukhachevsky pursued the idea, but his doctrine was repudiated as contrary to Communist principles, and Tukhachevsky was executed in 1937. Guderian was the first who fully developed and advocated the strategy of blitzkrieg and put it into its final shape. He summarized the tactics of blitzkrieg as the way to get the mobile and motorized armoured divisions to work together and support each other in order to achieve decisive success. In his book Panzer Leader he wrote: In this year (1929) I became convinced that tanks working on their own or in conjunction with infantry could never achieve decisive importance. My historical studies; the exercises carried out in England and our own experience with mockups had persuaded me that the tanks would never be able to produce their full effect until weapons on whose support they must inevitably rely were brought up to their standard of speed and 5/258
of cross-country performance. In such formation of all arms, the tanks must play primary role, the other weapons being subordinated to the requirements of the armour. It would be wrong to include tanks in infantry divisions: what was needed were armoured divisions which would include all the supporting arms needed to fight with full effect. Guderian believed that certain developments in technology needed to take place in conjunction with blitzkrieg in order to support the entire theory, especially in communication and special visual equipment with which the armored divisions in general, and tanks specifically, should be equipped. Guderian insisted in 1933, within the high command, that every tank in the German armoured force must be equipped with radio and visual equipment in order to enable the tank commander to communicate and perform a decisive role in blitzkrieg. In the Second World War, Guderian first served as the commander of the XIX Corps in the invasion of Poland. He personally led the German forces during the Battle of Wizna and Battle of Kobryn testing his theory against the reality of war for the first time. After the invasion he took property in the Warthegau area of occupied Poland, evicting the Polish estate owners. Guderian told Manstein that he was given a list of Polish estates which he studied for a few days before deciding which to claim for his own;after the war he changed the dates and circumstances of situation in his memoirs to present taking over of the estate as legitimate retirement gift. In the Invasion of France, he personally led the attack that traversed the Ardennes Forest, crossed the Meuse River and broke through the French lines at Sedan. During the French campaign, he led his panzer forces in rapid blitzkrieg-style advances and earned the nickname "Der schnelle Heinz" (Fast Heinz) among his troops. Guderian's panzer group led the "race to the sea" that split the Allied armies in two, depriving the French armies and the BEF in Northern France and Belgium of their fuel, food, spare parts and ammunition. Faced with orders from nervous superiors to halt on one occasion, he managed to continue his advance by stating he was performing a 'reconnaissance in force'. Guderian's column was famously denied the chance to destroy the Allied beachhead at Dunkirk by an order coming from high command. In 1941 he commanded Panzergruppe 2, also known as Panzergruppe Guderian, in Operation Barbarossa, the German invasion of the Soviet Union, receiving the 24th award of the Oak Leaves to his Knight's Cross of the Iron Cross on 17 July of that year. From 5 October 1941 he led the redesignated Second Panzer Army. His armoured spearhead captured Smolensk in a remarkably short time and was poised to launch the final assault on Moscow when he was ordered to turn south towards Kiev (see LĂśtzen decision). He protested against Hitler's decision and as a result lost the FĂźhrer's confidence. He was relieved of his command on 25 December 1941 after Fieldmarshal GĂźnther von Kluge, not noted for his ability to face up to Hitler, claimed that Guderian had ordered a withdrawal in contradiction of Hitler's "stand fast" order. Guderian was transferred to the Oberkommando des Heeres (OKH) reserve pool, his chances of being promoted to fieldmarshal, which depended on Hitler's personal decision, possibly ruined forever. Guderian would deny that he ordered any kind of withdrawal. Ironically this act of apparent insubordination is cited by his admirers as further proof of his independence of spirit when dealing with Hitler. Guderian's own view on the matter was that he had been victimized by von Kluge who was the commanding officer when German troops came to a standstill at the Moscow front in late autumn/winter 1941. At some point he so provoked von Kluge with accusations related to his dismissal that the field marshal challenged him to a duel, which Hitler forbade. After his dismissal Guderian and his wife retired to a 2,000 acres (8.1 km2) sequestered country estate at Deipenhof in the Reichsgau Wartheland. In September 1942, when Erwin Rommel was recuperating in Germany from health problems, he suggested Guderian to OKW as the only one who could replace him temporarily in Africa, the response came in the same night: "Guderian is not accepted". Only after the German defeat at Stalingrad was Guderian given a new position. On 1 March 1943 he was appointed Inspector-General of the Armoured Troops. Here his responsibilities were to determine armoured strategy and to oversee tank design and production and the training of Germany's panzer forces. He reported to Hitler directly. In Panzer Leader, he conceded that he was fully aware of the brutal occupation policies of the German administration of Ukraine, claiming that this was wholly the responsibility of civilians, about whom he could do nothing. 6/258
According to Guderian, Hitler was easily persuaded to field too many new tank designs, and this resulted in supply, logistical, and repair problems for German forces in Russia. Guderian preferred large numbers of Panzer IIIs and Panzer IVs over smaller numbers of heavier tanks like the Tiger, which had limited range and could rarely go off-road without getting stuck in the Russian mud. On 21 July 1944, after the failure of the July 20 Plot in which Guderian had no involvement, Guderian was appointed chief of staff of the army (Chef des Generalstabs des Heeres) as a successor to Kurt Zeitzler, who had departed July 1 after a nervous breakdown. During his tenure as chief of staff, he let it be known that any General Staff officer who was not prepared to be "a National Socialist officer" was not welcome on that body. He also served on the "Court of Military Honour," a drumhead court-martial that expelled many of the officers involved in the July 20 Plot from the Army before handing them over to the People's Court. However, he had a long series of violent rows with Hitler over the way in which Germany should handle the war on both fronts. Hitler finally dismissed Guderian on 28 March 1945 after a shouting-match over the failed counterattack of General Theodor Busse's 9th Army to break through to units encircled at K端strin; he stated to Guderian that "your physical health requires that you immediately take six weeks convalescent leave," ("Health problems" were commonly used as a facade in the Third Reich to remove executives who for some reason could not simply be sacked, but from episodes Guderian describes in his memoirs it is evident that he actually did suffer from congestive heart failure.) He was replaced by General Hans Krebs. Together with his Panzer staff, Guderian surrendered to American troops on 10 May 1945 and remained in U.S. custody as a prisoner of war until his release on 17 June 1948. Despite Soviet and Polish government protests, he was not charged with any war crimes during the Nuremberg Trials, as his actions and behaviour were thought to be consistent with those of a professional soldier. After the war he was often invited to attend meetings of British veterans' groups, where he analyzed past battles with his old foes. During the early 1950s he was active in advising on the redevelopment of the West German army: Bundeswehr (see Searle's Wehrmacht Generals). Guderian died on 14 May 1954 at the age of 65, in Schwangau near F端ssen (Southern Bavaria) and is buried at the Friedhof Hildesheimer Strasse in Goslar. In 2000, a documentary titled Guderian, directed by Anton Vassil, was aired on French television. It featured Guderian's son, Heinz G端nther Guderian, (who became a prominent General in the post-war German Bundeswehr and NATO) along with other notables such as Field Marshal Lord Carver (129th British Field Marshal), expert historians Kenneth Macksey and Heinz Wilhelm. Using rarely seen photographs from Guderian's private collection, the documentary provides an inside view into the life and career of Guderian and draws a profile of Guderian's character and the moral responsibility of the German general staff under Hitler. DECORATIONS Iron Cross (1914) 2nd Class on 17 September 1914 Iron Cross (1914) 1st Class on 8 November 1916 Cross of Honor in 1934 Anschluss Medal (13 March 1938) Sudetenland Medal with Prague Castle Bar (1 October 1938) Iron Cross (1939) 2nd Class on 5 September 1939 Iron Cross (1939) 1st Class on 13 September 1939 Panzer Badge in Silver Knight's Cross of the Iron Cross with Oak Leaves Knight's Cross on 27 October 1939 as General der Panzertruppe and commander of the XIX Army Corps. 24th Oak Leaves on 17 July 1941 as Generaloberst and commander of Panzer Gruppe 2. Mentioned 5 times in the Wehrmachtbericht (6 August 1941, 7 August 1941, 21 September 1941, 18 October 1941 and 19 October 1941)
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Panzer Leader A Peculiar Fellow On 21st May 1940 a travel-stained German general, short in stature but powerful in enthusiasm, drove into Abbeville and gazed out across the English Channel. At the end of 'this remarkable day', as he described it, he basked momentarily in the realisation of a dream because, in and around the precincts of the town, the army corps of his creation, strong in armoured vehicles, held undisputed possession by right of conquest at the culmination of a performance which was unique in military history. With scarcely a pause the German tank force had fought its way through the intricate Ardennes, breached a fortified river-line and defeated a major portion of the enemy's best troops as it cut a swathe through France.
Still quite fresh, it had taken Abbeville practically unopposed because, at the end of an advance of nearly 220 miles in eleven days, it had, by the sheer speed of its progress, left the opposing forces far behind. 2 The Anglo-French and Belgian armies, which the Germans had so comprehensively outpaced, lay broken in their trail: the rest of the Channel ports stood virtually undefended, ripe for seizing, and those out-manoeuvred allied forces which still retained a measure of cohesion could only look on, aghast in the realisation that they were on the verge of total envelopment. General der Panzertruppe Heinz Wilhelm Guderian had arrived at the zenith of his career. At negligible cost and by the employment of a mere three divisions, with occasional assistance from others helped spasmodically by air power, he had thrown the Anglo-French allies into chaos and accomplished in a matter of days what the entire German Army had failed to 8/258
achieve at unprecedented cost in the four years of war preceding 1918. In the process this General Officer had elevated himself to the eminence of Gustavus Adolphus by creating a truly revolutionary concept and weapon in time of peace and pursuing the idea to a successful conclusion in war: the difference in authority between a monarch and a quite junior officer, however, made his achievement all the more outstanding.
The force he had created was motivated by speed allied to armoured protection for the fighting men, and the panzer divisions he commanded were dominated by the tank, a weapon which had barely demonstrated its potentiality before 1918. Yet on 21st May 1940 the sheer pace of Guderian's advance, which had stricken the Anglo-French armies by its dash and discreet selection of objectives, also baffled the conventionally minded strategists and tacticians of the Great German General Staff when they watched the unbelievable unfolding before them on their maps and heard the reports flooding back by radio from the panzer spearhead. 3 Let it not be imagined that the officers of the General Staff were laggard in their search for military improvements; for generations their preoccupation had been the harnessing of the latest technology and techniques to the acquisition of swift decision in battle in pursuit of the aim of resolving political problems by means of short wars. Yet with the prospect of a short war in sight the finishing touches to the design etched by the panzer force were bedevilled by paradox. Cautious leaders restrained Guderian for fear of his becoming over-extended at a moment when one more quick advance would have completed the envelopment of the enemy. The Allies were allowed, eventually, to escape via Dunkirk. At the same time the reaction of the German hierarchy to Guderian's success was euphoric. Generaloberst Alfred Jodl, the Chef des Oberkommandos der Wehrmacht (OKW) 4 Operations Staff, recorded how the Head of State and Supreme Commander, Adolf Hitler, was '. . . beside himself with joy and he already foresaw victory and peace'. France, it was true, would fall, but the triumph was incomplete. For the British, encouraged by their army's escape, declined to give up the struggle: tanks could not easily cross the Channel and aircraft, unlike armies, would not bring a decision on their own. Guderian's triumph of method now acted as a spur to disaster. With the seizure of such immense gains by the application of comparatively minimal force, Hitler and the uplifted members of his entourage came to believe that nothing was beyond the power of their tank and air forces. In due course 9/258
German tanks would stamp their track marks across the rest of Europe, deep into Russia and along the North African shores. But never again would they wholly bring about the destruction of an entire major nation along with its army. The lessons which Guderian had learnt by studying the tactics employed against Germany in 1918 could themselves be copied. A colossal and unexpected military imbalance which had been revealed on the battlefield in 1940 was to be corrected. The road which led Guderian to Abbeville stretched back far beyond the point at which he joined it. As a Prussian he was identified with the tribe which, in medieval times, located itself between the Rivers Vistula and lower Niemen and whose gradual expansion after 1462 reflected the natural reaction of a people who for long had been under harsh Polish rule. Nevertheless, while the family of Guderian may well be either of Dutch or, far less likely, of Scottish descent, it is certain that it had little experience of military professionalism: they were landowners and professional people who, like the vast majority of Junkers, lacked great wealth. Such military ancestors as Guderian could claim came from the family of his grandmother, Emma Hiller von Gaertringen. The Millers had produced a crop of Prussian generals who had fought under Frederick the Great and in the Revolutionary Wars against France. Rudolf Freiherr Hiller von Gaertringen had been a cavalry captain involved in the debacle of 1806 though later, as Commander of the Neumark Landwehr, he had served with distinction against the French in the campaign of 1813 and in the conclusive fight against Napoleon at Waterloo in 1815; and in 1861 a Hiller von Gaertringen had been a cavalry captain told to plan a march on Berlin in support of the General Staff against the Diet.
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The Guderian family found its early role as civilian supporters of burgeoning Prussian militarism, the cult which flourished as a modern Sparta under the urging of the saviour of the Army after 1806, Gerhard Scharnhorst, and his notable successors, Carl von Clausewitz 5, Albrecht von Roon and Helmuth von Moltke the Elder. These men dwelt amid the relative poverty of the Junker aristocracy and recognised military preparations alongside what a future Chief of Staff, Paul von Hindenburg, described as 'wantlessness'. They felt a binding patriotism which traditionally permitted them, for example, to carry out a coup d'etat against the government providing the monarch did not object. Heinz Guderian's father, Friedrich, had recognised wantlessness only too well. His father had died young leaving a widow with six children and the widow had felt compelled to sell the family estate at Hansdorf Netz in the Warthegau in order to spend more time on the children (Guderians to this day form a closely knit family group) as part of a rationalisation of frugal effort for their well-being. But it was at his own wish that young Friedrich went to the Kadet Korps in 1872, though this was helpful to the family exchequer. He arrived there in the aftermath of Moltke's greatest victorious campaign, at a moment when Prussian armed might was supreme and Moltke was engaged upon extending its technical innovations. This the old nobility had opposed and so Friedrich Guderian fitted neatly into Moltke's scheme of diluting the army nobility with healthy infusions of the middle classes to fill vacancies in the technical arms. By 1872 only two-thirds of the General Staff was titled and the proportion of middle class officers throughout the Army was steadily rising - particularly among the most technical branches, including the Engineers, of whom it was quipped, 'A man sinks from step to step until he becomes an Engineer'. Yet Friedrich Guderian became a light infantryman, a Leutnant of the 9th Jager Battalion in an army which rated the cavalry uppermost in social favour, followed by the Guards infantry, the light infantry and then the artillery. Light infantry, like cavalry, were the swiftest moving elements of a fighting force which was thoroughly imbued with von Moltke's insistence that victory in war should be sought as a natural outcome through high mobility and offensive action. Coming fresh to the Army, untrammelled by traditional notions of how everything should be done, Friedrich welcomed each breath of change without rancour and was far from shocked by such typically Moltkesian dicta as 'Build no more fortifications, build railways'. This sense of radical openmindedness he, in due course, passed on to his soldier sons. The year 1888 was of intrinsic importance to Friedrich Guderian, and to Germany too. In October 1887 he had married and on 17th June 1888 he and his wife Clara were blessed with the birth of their first son, Heinz. Two days before, on the 15th, a new monarch, Kaiser Wilhelm II, had come to the throne and soon he was to sponsor the brash Weltpolitik which was to replace the shrewd statesmanship of Chancellor Bismarck. It would be wrong to suggest that Germany lived in a war atmosphere in the 1890s even though France longed for revenge after 1871 and even though the attempt to challenge British naval supremacy was being formulated in the shipyards. Germany's trade was expanding and busy industrial zones and outward signs of prosperity in the principal cities, along with advances in mass education, were beginning to replace the old austerity. Changes in government policy had scant effect upon the Guderians who indulged in routine garrison life in the manner of all newly wed couples who occupy a place in a privileged society. Fritz, a brother for Heinz, was born in October 1890 and the following year they moved to Colmar in Alsace, staying there until 1900 when they were posted to St Avoid in Lorraine. By this time both Heinz and Fritz had determined to become army officers, a choice fully endorsed by their father whose wishes in the matter can hardly ever have been in doubt since necessity also made demands. At St Avoid there were inadequate boarding school facilities whereas the cadet schools in Germany, like the Real Gymnasium, taught modern subjects (including French, English, Mathematics and History). From 1901 to 1903 Heinz and Fritz attended the Karlsruhe Cadet School at Baden and in 1903 Heinz was transferred to the Principal Cadet School at Gross-Lichterfelde, Berlin, whence he was later followed by Fritz. Here they came under the spell of Prussian discipline in its most insistent and sophisticated form. In contrast to the absurdities of the external manifestations of its military regime - the rigid minutiae of drill, dress and formality - there was an inculcation of a definitive philosophy and 11/258
attitude, a flexibility which is unfathomed by those who visualise Prussianism only in its unbending form. In parallel with uniformity of application went - chiefly for the officers' benefit - a recognition of the right and desirability of expressing uncompromising opinions up to the moment of an order's delivery. Thus a cadet's mental processes were schooled to acknowledging ultimate authority, but only after argument had been exhausted. It may be remarked that this is not so very different from the methods employed in most other armies. Quite: most other armies had copied the Prussian system the difference between them being merely that of degree. It was the meticulous thoroughness applied by the Germans that caused their embarrassed enemies to fear and hate a superior type of execution.
Outwardly, at first, Guderian acquiesced to the system: his reservations as to the spirit if not its letter would appear much later to suit the convenience of difficult situations.Flexibility of response was for ever close to his thoughts and actions. He did not immediately rebel and his reports improved as he progressed and began to develop the essential enthusiasm for those subjects which were for ever to enthral him. Usually he attained a good position in class. In Panzer Leader he recalled his instructors and teachers at Gross-Lichterfelde '. . . with emotions of deep gratitude and respect'. However, it was not so of the instructors at the War School in Metz: of them, in 1907, he wrote: 'The system is not for ambitious people - only for average persons. It is tedious', and added that he found his seniors unsympathetic. Yet, from what was written of him at the end of the course, it would seem the seniors were rather impressed by a cadet whom, they said, was serious-minded and looked ahead; was ambitious, honourable, a good rider, a strong character with charm, one who was, 'Intensely interested in his profession and very earnest'. Ironically, in the light of the future, he did poorly in his final examination on tactics by adopting a posture of defence instead of the prescribed solution of attack. 6To his immense satisfaction Guderian had been sent in February 1907 to Bitche as a Fdhnrich to join the 10th Hannoverian Jager Battalion, at that time under his father - a commander who was both loved and feared by 12/258
family and battalion alike. In January 1908 he became a Leutnant and immersed himself in the normal life of a typical young officer who liked animals, rode well, enjoyed hunting and shooting; and he also developed a delight in architecture and the countryside, and appreciated the theatre and dancing. But music defied him: he was dismally tone deaf and had to be dropped from a cadet choir when it was found that he sang different tunes from the others. There was perhaps something significant about this. Certainly his diary illustrates an awakening criticism of the system which possessed him and a healthy scepticism such as was shared by only a very small proportion of his contemporaries. It speaks of the study of military history: with an outstandingly good memory he could quote from the classical and military works by heart. It also tells of profitable battalion exercises under his father's direction, from whom he learnt so much: T try to copy him', he wrote.
There is, too, within the pages of a diary which records passing thoughts, the suggestion of an obsession with the meaning of enduring friendship. In July 1908 at a moment of loneliness he wrote: 'Friends demand that I should spend more time with them. If they had been more careful there need not have been a rift. Now it is difficult to repair the damage. They have lost my respect. They accuse me of being an introvert . . . but to run with the mob is nothing to be proud of.' And in November 1909: 'If only I could find a real friend. My comrades are very good, but there is not one I can depend upon wholly . . . Everywhere mistrust reigns.' A year later he finds a glimmer of hope when some new officers joined the battalion and he was no longer the most junior member: 'Good friendships are developing . . . Our youngest officers, including [Bodewin] Keitel, are very pleasant. The most promising with the most aptitude as a soldier and in other ways is Keitel, I think.' Already it was apparent that he was better with his juniors than with his seniors, another recurrent theme in later life. There were thus distinct similarities between Guderian and the men who, in many respects, were to play an equivalent role in the development of 13/258
British armoured methods - Percy Hobart and J.F.C. Fuller 7. Hobart had an even keener appreciation of the arts and was quite as earnest in his professional dedication and bubbling sense of criticism - but much rougher and ruder in emphasising a point. Yet Hobart spent his early career in fairly tolerant agreement with the professional standards of his fellow officers; but he belonged to the Engineers, a corps d'elite in the British Army. Guderian, on the other hand, regarded many of his brother infantry officers as insufficiently interested in their profession. So, in this respect he echoed J.F.C. Fuller, a light infantry man too, who also found himself mentally isolated from his fellow officers, '. . . a monk in a Trappist monastery, because when everyone round you is talking about the same things (foxes, duck and trout) morning, noon and night, they might just as well be saying nothing at all.' Fuller's invective was thus as acid as Guderian's was to become, their way of escape from mediocrity alike - by an application for a place at the Staff College.
In October 1909 the 10th J채gers were transferred to Goslar in the Harz Mountains, one of the loveliest parts of Germany, and there Heinz Guderian met and fell in love with Margarete Goerne. Difficulties arose, however, when in December 1911 they decided to marry. Gretel, as he called her, was only eighteen, and her father felt she was too young. Heinz was persuaded to agree to a cooling off period of two years, although they became officially engaged in February 1912. He concluded that it was unfair for him to remain in Goslar. Moreover he felt the need to undertake some sort of technical training to broaden the basis of his professional knowledge. Two courses of attachment were available, either to learn about machine-guns or about signal communications. Friedrich, who had just been promoted Generalmajor in command of the 35th Infantry Brigade, advised against machine-guns '. . . because they have little future', but he saw prospects in signalling, particularly the brand new wireless systems which had come to prominence at the turn of the century and with which German technology took a lead. His son was in accord. On 1st October Heinz joined the radio company of the 3rd Telegraph Battalion at Koblenz and there began the work which was to lead him to the peak of his achievements. 8 The year to come - indeed the next decade - was packed tight with activity for Guderian. Time passed quickly because the new work taxed him hard. As he describes it himself: 'Having had no 14/258
previous experience with radio communications and being in addition in charge of recruit training for some time, I was heavily burdened by my military duties. According to directives issued by the Chief of Staff, VIII Corps . . . officers from the Koblenz garrison conducted the preparatory course for the Kriegsakademie [War Academy], Preparation was very intensive . . . Moreover the instructors enlivened the class rooms with a spirit of comradeship, thus making our social relations also very pleasant. The curriculum covered tactics up to the level of a reinforced infantry brigade, field craft, engineering and instruction in arms ... It was left to our discretion to choose our own method of studying languages, geography and history.' In due course Guderian would qualify as an interpreter in French and he also became fluent in English. By frenetic application he passed the Academy exam at the first attempt and was thus the youngest at twenty-five of the 168 officers selected to attend the three years' course starting at the War Academy in Berlin on 5th October 1913. This was a clear indication of his maturity. But first there was another matter of high priority to be settled. Parents bowed before Guderian's wave of success and consented to an early marriage. On 1st October he wedded Margarete. Not for nothing in the years to come was he to earn the nick-name Schnelle Heinz (Quick Heinz). Nor by chance did he adhere to one of Moltke's dicta he liked to quote: 'First reckon, then risk'. He would win renown for his contradictory juxtaposition of methods, a compound of studied contemplation on the one hand with sudden impulse on the other. But his marriage was a deeply contemplated step and of fundamental importance. Margarete, with her peaceful soothing nature, adapted herself co his moods and aspirations and provided the perfect foil for the young officer who had already won a reputation for bursting energy and frightening impetuosity. Of her he wrote that she was a 'perfect helpmate' and their first son was to tell the author that she was absolutely essential to her husband. In fact this need of his for a cool partner and chief of staff was to become an absolute necessity to the German Army, too, as his career progressed. Of still greater importance were the evolving ambitions of Margarete who, as time went by, came to believe in her husband's great destiny and whose influence upon him, as will be seen, was not only designed to encourage but to guide his footsteps along safer paths when, in tempestuous moments, he threatened to throw everything away. And the wedding itself held pointers to the future: in attendance was the admired Bodewin Keitel (a second cousin of Margarete) whose brother, Wilhelm, would one day become Adolf Hitler's principal staff officer: both Keitels were destined to have their impact on Guderian's destiny in the years to come. At the War Academy still more strong characters in the drama of Guderian's life began to assemble. Among his contemporaries was Erich von Manstein who, of them all, came closest to understanding the philosophy and methods that, later, were to be preached and practised by Guderian. The senior member of the board of directors was Oberst Graf R端diger von der Goltz who, according to Guderian, exerted even pro-founder educational influence ilpon the younger officers than the director himself: six years later von der Goltz was to have a direct effect upon his erstwhile student. The first year at the college concentrated chiefly upon improving the general knowledge of the students. Guderian says that tactics were the main subject along with military history'. . . with special emphasis on the opening of the campaign in 1757, with the advance into Bohemia in separate groups and their juncture for the Battle of Prague. The campaign of 1805 was discussed subsequently'. Study of the past was terminated sharply when the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand of Austria at Sarajevo on 28th June threw the future into turmoil and uncertainty. At that moment Guderian, with the other infantry and cavalry members of the course, was serving an attachment with the field artillery for a period 'long enough to guarantee that the students gained a real insight'. The German Army always had been a protagonist of practical work in the absence of a war of its own, despite its delight in the developing of theories. Now the war which Kaiser Wilhelm II had provoked was upon them and the theories would be put to the test. On 1st August mobilisation was declared, the course at the War Academy was dissolved before Guderian could complete his attachment and he was ordered to join the unit with which he was to go into battle. It was not, however, the parent regiment to which his heart belonged - the WthJdgers. Because he had last served with 3rd Telegraph Battalion, his place in the mobilisation plan was in charge of Heavy Wireless Station No. 3, attached to the 5th Cavalry Division in I 15/258
Cavalry Corps which was part of the Second Army. War came at a bad moment for the Guderians. The political tensions which had raised Europe to fever pitch throughout the preceding decade were as nothing to the strain imposed by the knowledge that Margarete was expecting their first child within the month. Although the officer of twenty-six who went to war that August may not have been fully prepared for his task and had a backward look at his home, it is doubtful if many of his age were any better trained at that time. He had formulated a philosophy to which he had generally adhered since analysing himself prior to joining the battalion. In the diary, which was reserved more for reflections than a day-by-day record, he had written in 1908: 'I am a peculiar fellow. Sometimes I feel uplifted and believe that everything must go right and nothing wrong. The longer one lives the more one comes to realise that these are illusions. Sometimes little things cause despondency. Perhaps I will manage to discover the source of wisdom so that everything becomes easy. Yet I do not believe it is good to acquire too much equanimity otherwise one would become careless.' Absorbed as he was in the essential disciplines of the good soldier - high patriotism, a strict sense of duty and honour besides the basic tricks of his trade - he had not in the process, particularly when on field exercises, reduced an acute and fearless critical sense which he exposed both in manner and writing. To disguise personal feelings was almost an impossibility for Guderian, though the cutting edge of his temperament was frequently sheathed in banter. During the manoeuvres of spring 1913 he had been involved in one of the earliest trials of a wireless detachment working with cavalry and, in co-operation with the 5th Cavalry Division under Generalmajor 9 von Ilsemann, had gained valuable experience but also a feeling of disquiet at the way the exercises had proceeded. Often he was left out of touch with the division because insufficient thought was given to the Section's part in projected operations. As a result the wireless detachment usually lacked orders and frequently was out of touch. He wrote a strongly critical report which reached the general but, as Guderian remarked, '. . . it disappeared into his desk'. The fact remained that Guderian's detachment had failed to give the service of which it was capable and, due to excessive and unnecessary movement, its horses and the men (in that order of priority since, without the horses, the heavy radio and its batteries could not be moved) had become exhausted. This.was the general under whom he was to serve in his first campaign. The difficulties of cooperation between signal detachments and their parent headquarters were by no means restricted to Guderian's level, however, or to this particular commander. A failure to resolve basic misunderstandings between an infant technological weapon system (as wireless undoubtedly was, even if not recognised as such) and the General Staffs established practices lay at the heart of the trouble; yet it was merely typical of the problems normally associated with initiating any new and powerful weapon to best effect in the teeth of reactionary and entrenched practice and opinion. In 1914 the newly created wireless arm had neither the confidence nor the sympathy of the General Staff and consequently was deprived of information about strategic intentions and denied its full potential. Moreover its Chief was not a man to press his claims too heavily. In consequence forward planning of signal services to match operational requirements went by default. The equipment, which was heavy, incapable of operation on the move and none too easy to tune, was given little chance of achieving its best performance by a procedure which demanded that' out-stations', such as Guderian’s, had the responsibility of establishing contact with the central control set. This was far too time-consuming for units which were in contact with the enemy. The ether became jammed by competing out-stations struggling to break through to Control which, in turn, complained that there was insufficient time to pass a mass of information and orders to stations which switched off as they pleased. The Control Station did not command the networks; breakdowns occurred more"frequently as the intensity of operations increased. There was chaos and waste on a vast scale and so fighting formations were delayed in reaching the critical points at the right moment and in good order. These things Guderian witnessed as part of his induction to war, at a moment when he was malleable to sharp impressions.
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Factors for the Future To understand the reasoning which prompted the arguments that Guderian was one day to use in support of mechanised armies one has only to follow his career throughout the First World War, and in its immediate aftermath on the eastern frontier of Germany. Fate was to carry him to almost every front where the definitive actions took place. Thus he was able to witness and, in comparatively remote circumstances, register and store away acute personal memories, particularly concerning the atrophy of mobile warfare and the consequent onset of the stalemate which was to kill all hope of a quick end to the conflict.
The German Army went to war in 1914 under the direction of Helmuth von Moltke the Younger a Chief of Staff who, though the nephew of his great namesake, was a paler character by far. Likewise the plan of campaign which he adopted was a thinner version of the one created by his predecessor, Graf Alfred von Schlieffen10, an officer whose commitment to the study of war was such that he thought of nothing else. The army of Schlieffen's design was modern and contained two weapons which, it was hoped, would give a margin of technical advantage sufficient to overcome the enormous defensive fire power and elan of its enemies. 11 Heavy mobile artillery was intended to crush all kinds of fortifications and demoralise armies in the field; radio communications would enable information and orders to pass swiftly to and from command posts to the extremities of the battlefield and thus enable commanders to exert detailed control of the battle
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from remote locations. The sort of initiatives at the lower levels of command, which Moltke the Elder had found it essential to encourage, were being stifled. At the same time all-embracing envelopments in the quest for a modern Cannae, such as Moltke had accomplished at Sedan in 1870, was Schlieffen's aim, the mobility to be achieved by an even more extensive use of railways than Moltke had dreamed of. By a strange omission the method which might most extensively have increased the flexibility of the German Army's mobility was largely omitted from Schlieffen's plans and those of Moltke the Younger. Motor vehicles, fast becoming popular and in greater supply, were provided in some quantity but even so were neither sufficient in number nor efficient in performance. In 1923 Generaloberst von Kluck, who commanded the First Army in the march on Paris, and whose army was the principal sufferer from logistic failure, was to write that these systems needed to undergo a further test. In due course a young officer in 3rd Wireless Section would see to that. The German plan of attack into northern France, via Belgium and the Ardennes, committed the four principal armies involved to long marches in trying conditions of summer heat and dust. Once they had departed from the railheads adjacent to the frontiers it was the endurance of men on their feet and horses on their hooves which would decide whether or not the momentum of the marching masses could be sustained. Generalleutnant von Richthofen's I Cavalry Corps, of which 5th Cavalry Division was a part, and Guderian's 3rd Wireless Section the tentacle for its vital communications, was to have an almost unique opportunity to tour the battlefields leading to the .River Marne. For it began its progress into France within the boundaries of the Third Army, having marched to Dinant through the Ardennes in the first fortnight of August, and was then to pass across the rear of von Billow's Second Army to enter the battle at the junction between Billow's force and the strongly reinforced mass of manoeuvre, residual in von Kluck's First Army on the right wing, where it bore down past Mons towards Le Cateau and Paris. The arrows marked across the maps indicate that I Cavalry Corps marched 160 miles before it began to come seriously into action on 31st August, and that therefore it may already have travelled well over 200 miles when allowance is made for diversions. Guderian stayed with 5th Cavalry Division at Dinant between the 17th and 20th and thus was witness to the mass of horsemen, marching men, guns and transport columns passing smoothly in well-regulated columns of march through the intricate lanes and across the River Meuse - a spectacle which would have excited the least responsive military mind but which, upon him, was to leave indelible impressions of the logistic feasibility of moving such numbers through this notably difficult terrain. His detachment had to move greater distances than the rest of the division because, due to its unique nature, it was in constant demand and therefore switched from one division to another besides the 5th Cavalry. Frequently it was wastefully employed through lack of forward planning: either it was without clear orders or it was sent on tasks from which it might have been spared. More than most elements of First and Second Armies, which soon began to suffer from exhaustion, the horses and men of 3rd Wireless Section, dragging their heavy long-range set (with its transmission range of 150 miles), were in dire straits. German cavalry as a whole ran into trouble. II Cavalry Corps, pushing ahead as flank guard of First Army into Belgium, had soon complained of a fodder shortage and suffered a severe rebuff at Haelen on 12th August when they had been mown down by machine-gun and rifle fire from weak Belgian detachments. Never again would German cavalry advance with the supreme and gallant confidence of arrogance as that with which they began the war, though for a little longer the fascination of cavalry power held good. On 31st August, when the Fifth French Army stood its ground to the south of the River Serre and the British Expeditionary Force continued in withdrawal, a gap opened between the two armies. Richtho-fen was directed by radio from Second Army into the gap and told to turn east in order to seize ground between Soissons and Vauxaillon, thus cutting off the French Fifth Army's retreat. It was due to the contribution made by radio communication that the French were almost as quickly aware of this order as was Richthofen: most German radio traffic was either in 'clear5 or in code and the French had broken the German code within forty-eight hours of the outbreak of war. Thus Guderian was unwittingly wielding a double-edged weapon, for little thought had been given to signal intelligence's manifestations. 18/258
A grim race ensued on the French part to despatch infantry by rail and cavalry by road to block the German thrust before it reached its objective. German progress was monitored as their radio reports from the leading troops came in. There was rising panic when the British failed at once to send a division to head off the German spearhead. But the Germans were advancing fast because there was no opposition, yet beginning, as they got deeper into the 'gap' (so precious to cavalry in the implementation of its power), to complain bitterly that their horseshoes were worn out: a radio message (duly monitored by the French) asked for four lorry loads of shoes and, above all, nails to be sent to Noyon, at the starting point of their sweep. This habit of exposed forces in mobile operations to find excuses that might save them from further exertion was a psychological mannerism which Guderian would remember. In fact the whole Corps safely reached the area north of Soissons, well in the French rear, but then was pulled back; ostensibly because the higher command wished it to continue the advance to the south and maintain contact with First Army which was well ahead on the right; partly because enemy forces threatened and compelled the cavalry to dismount in order to fight; largely because they did not recognise the opportunity. The only material aid they gave to their own side was cursory information about enemy forces in Soissons. Richthofen, a commander who understood mobility, had actually created the opportunity dreamed of by cavalry men and so outpaced the enemy that they were unable to devise defensive measures fast enough to bar his way. But since he allowed himself to become divorced from radio, his advantageous position was unknown to those above him. In any case, he lacked an instrument that was capable of survival on the modern battlefield. His regiments, unprotected against fire, simply could not press home the advantages which his generalship had gained. When Guderian came to write Achtung! Panzer! in 1937 he quoted from the Reichsarchiv in its conclusions that'. . . nowhere had they [cavalry] managed to penetrate and gain insight into ac19/258
tivities behind the enemy lines'. The judgment was sweeping and, as the action at Soissons suggests, perhaps a little unfair, but it was duly recorded as a precedent for use in shaping the future as horsemen began to pass into the shades of war. The series of command vacillations which produced a German crisis at the Battle of the Marne could not be solved by Moltke from Luxembourg where he sat at the centre of a network of overloaded communications. Radio and telephone messages failed to compensate for close personal contact near the front - and that Moltke eschewed until the battle was lost. But personal contact was frequently at a premium everywhere. On 5th September, I Cavalry Corps was leading Second Army deep into another gap which had opened between the British and French and had pushed its leading elements across the Grand Morin '. . . continuing in its efforts to take the initiative', as the Reichsarchiv says. Guderian was with them and, had he known it, at the head of a formation which had completely broken through an Anglo-French line - the last time that was to happen until he personally repeated the performance twenty-six years later. But again nobody on the German side recognised the opportunity and for the reason, as usual, of Richthofen's isolation from Second Army. Meanwhile his men, faced with the lightest opposition, were invariably compelled to forfeit momentum while they took dismounted action. On the following day First Army's readjustment to curb the threat of the French, taking them in flank from the west, brought to Guderian's notice, for the first time, a feeling that things were going wrong. He had been noting with interest the neglected French villages as a sign that French power was on the wane, and he had glorified in the buildings of Soissons and the beautiful Marne valley. Suddenly everything changed. Overnight the cavalry ceased to be a spearhead and reverted to flankguard, first at the halt and then as a rearguard in retreat, filling the gap which had opened between First and Second Armies and which was about to be entered by both British and French troops. About 6th September Guderian recorded, in a letter to Gretel, that he was back with 5th Cavalry Division and under artillery fire at Cerneux - which was hardly surprising since at that moment this village was in no-man's-land! Next day he was at Bois Martin: 'Due to over-exertion three horses died. Horses and men extremely exhausted, added to the uncomfortable feeling of retreat'. On the 8th: 'The station under shrapnel fire for 3 km. Very uncomfortable situation.' And on the 9th, when 5th Cavalry Division alone filled the gap between First and Second Armies: 'Continuation of march at first without event, quite alone. In the afternoon when we reached the division, suddenly shrapnel fire into the column, again fortunately no losses . . . Horses and men pretty well done in.' Finally on the 11 th, after being verbally ordered to march to Chery via Cohan (no written orders were ever received), two horses fell and had to be replaced by requisitioning. But the delay was fatal. All at once the French were upon them, the station captured and with it all his personal belongings and a few of the less fortunate men. Guderian escaped by the skin of his teeth to finish up only with those clothes in which he stood at Bethenville, north-west of Reims. It was here that, at last, he received a letter saying that Margarete had also passed her crisis, for in his reply on the 16th he was to write: 'My dearly beloved, sweet wife, 'To-day I received the first anxiously awaited'news of your well being from your father . . . He told me about the happy birth of our beloved son. With deep thanks to God who protected you in this difficult hour, I extend you my dearest wife my deepest congratulations, my thanks for your love and kindness towards me. My thoughts are with you and our child all the time. Stay healthy and fresh and if God grants me a return from this terrible war may he then bestow upon us a happy reunion. 'But now I know that you came through this difficult time in good health a weight has been lifted from my heart and I shall approach the serious task which still awaits us here in a calmer way.' A few days later the tenderness had dispersed and he was angry, writing to Gretel: 'The newspapers I have read make too much noise ... It is cheap to joke about a brave enemy . . Also that which is written about breach of promises . . . everybody looks after himself and might is right. I therefore consider that scribbling about treason and the Tsar and the English is ridiculous. It simply happens that it is our world position and state of existence which is inconvenient to others. In some ways it gives me satisfaction to have foreseen this development.' 20/258
He was angry, too, with the apparent failure of General von Ilsemann who seemed to have failed to meet the highest standards he expected of him; but of his comrades in 5th Cavalry Division he had nothing but praise. These were traits which would shape his career - an unbending expectation of excellence from those set ab.ove him and a compassionate feeling, blended with hard demands, for those below. The war called him again almost at once, and once more to the crucial front - to Flanders with Fourth Army under the Duke of W端rttemberg. Here he was to be made aware of the fate that must almost always overtake infantry when pitted against a determined and unshaken defence, armed with what Fuller was to call' a nerveless weapon' - the machine-gun. Fresh German formations were thrown against Ypres in the attempt to roll up the Allied flank and seize the Channel ports. Of the advance on 20th October, of which he was well informed since he had been appointed to 14th Wireless Section at HQ Fourth Army (where his knowledge of communications and languages was invaluable), he was to write of... the young regiments, the German National Anthem on their lips', and go on to describe in Achtung! Panzer!'. . . their losses were very heavy, the results encouraging'. Then, 'The young troops renewed their attack after the artillery had supposedly done its work of destruction. The reserves pressed forward, filling out the depleted lines - and increased the losses . . . Sacrifices rose to immeasurable heights while offensive power declined . . . They had to dig in and call for entrenching tools.' Mobility was at an end; trench warfare behind barbed wire had begun on the Western Front.
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Once more it was Guderian's destiny to observe closely the most important experiments, those of trench warfare. His sense of enthusiasm instantly welcomed the value of aerial reconnaissance and he was among the few who flew as observer in the search for information. He was on the Ypres front still when the Germans made their badly prepared, halfhearted attempt at a breakthrough using gas on 22nd April 1915 a classic example of the premature use of a 'secret weapon' before its potential value was assessed and a proper drill for its use worked out. On 27th January 1916, as Intelligence Officer, he was sent to join the Headquarters of the Fifth Army under the Crown Prince at Verdun where, for the ensuing six months, he helped synthesize the results of the first great attempt at reaching a decision by the brute application offeree to the total exclusion of mobility. Later his conclusions were those of every thinking soldier, a condemnation of the artillery's inability'. . . to break down enemy defences quickly and thoroughly enough to secure more than a simple incision - the prolonged time one needed to allow the guns to become effective'. Yet in the early days of the offensive he wrote to Gretel, perhaps by way of encouragement but more likely in tune with a current and general feeling of optimism, that the offensive was 'going well'. Guderian of course always was an optimist - his survival otherwise was inconceivable. One important event Guderian missed. In July he was sent back to Flanders to become Intelligence Officer at HQ Fourth Army. Therefore he was not present when British tanks made their debut on the Somme on 15th September. But even had he been there it is unlikely that he would have been any more impressed than his contemporaries. A mere 32 machines had caused only local terror where they had appeared in twos and threes, but the artillery had quickly destroyed those which persisted and the integrity of the trench front had never been seriously threatened. Along with the rest of the deeper thinkers in the German Army he largely ignored the reports of front line soldiers who called the tanks 'cruel as effective', and looked for more subtle combinations of proven weapons to unlock the fronts for the restoration of mobility. Nor, for that matter, did the possessors of this new weapon have much hope for its prospects. Major J.F.C. Fuller was frankly sceptical of their value at the time of his appointment as senior Staff Officer to the newly formed British Tank Corps at the end of 1916. He, like Guderian, was forever seeking new methods for infantry and in 1914 had published a perceptive article called 'The Tactics of Penetration'. Unlike Guderian, however, he pronounced (perhaps with tongue in cheek as might Guderian too when challenging the sanctity of official doctrine) that'. . . tactics are based on weaponpower and not on the experiences of military history' and that 'The commander who first grasps the true trend of any new, or improved, weapon will be in a position to surprise the adversary who has not'. Nevertheless, it was the British and, later, the French, who were to thrust the tank idea to the fore and largely because they placed officers of imagination and drive in charge of their new weapon. Though the Germans were to begin preliminary efforts to build a tank, starting in January 1917, there was negligible impulse because technicians and mediocrities were placed in charge and the General Staff withheld serious interest. Several crucial turning points of the war were rounded in 1917 - the outbreak of the Russian Revolution, the entry of the USA into the war and the final demonstration by the British of the abortive nature of an offensive based mainly upon artillery attack. For the Germans it was a year out of character. The exertions of the first two years' combat had so reduced their army that a period of recuperation on the defensive was obligatory. The logical conclusions of Moltke's dictum that because '. . . the defender has decided advantage during action under fire, the Prussian Army has all the more reason to use defensive methods' was put into practice by the construction of costly and intricate fortified zones, in addition to railways to serve them, guarding the Western Front. As a result a relatively limited industrial capacity was diverted from making primarily offensive weapons. To the concern of conventional General Staff officers, the morale of the men was undermined. More pernicious still, in the view of those who came to denigrate this development in hindsight (Guderian among them), the tactical doctrine of the 'delaying defensive' was virtuously adopted as a measure of economy in inherently wasteful attritional warfare - a method of defence in depth with an attendant wastage of life and material conducted by both sides with the intention of gradually inducing exhaustion. This was the inverse corollary of the Verdun type of offensive which, as Guderian put it'... converted the beautiful countryside into a moonscape'. De22/258
velopment of a method such as this, in the view of its critics, was the antithesis of a search for worthwhile conclusions in any war. Of immediate importance to the Germans, in the aftermath of 1916's destruction, was replacement of the wastage which had been incurred since 1914. The old army had not only bled to death; it had been denied infusions of new blood by a policy which had been based upon a short war and had not sufficiently come to grips with the demands of a long one. Promotions among the officers had been made at the peacetime rate and were insufficient to replace losses; the training of a new generation, including new members for the General Staff, had been minimal. As part of the process of reconstruction, fresh staff officers were created by taking, among others, those, like Guderian, who had been at the War Academy when it was dissolved in 1914 and putting them through a modified but strictly practical course that covered every aspect of staff duties. It included attachments of a month's duration at all levels from Army Group to Division, plus short spells with an artillery unit and, finally, a month in command of an infantry battalion in the line. 12 Throughout April Guderian was with formations along the River Aisne and thus present when the French used tanks - with barely recognisable results-for the first time. Then, starting in January 1918, he spent two months as a student in a General Staff Officers' Course at Sedan where, no doubt, in the intervals between intensive study, he took the opportunity to visit the scene of Moltke's 'Cannae' of 1870 and fixed in his memory the nature of the ground where, twenty-two years later, he was to play his own great gambit. The short detachments he deplored as unsettling, but the training he received called only for praise. It was, he claimed,'. . . comprehensive and thorough. After finishing my studies in Sedan I felt capable of mastering any tasks which the future might hold in store for me. On 28th February 19181 was appointed a regular member of the General Staff Corps.' It was among the proudest moments of his life. Of its performance in the First World War he was to say that: '[Germany's] position as a world power . . . called forth a military self-confidence which found perhaps its most graphic expression in the very top intellectual ranks of the officer corps, hence in the General Staff. Not that his final judgement on the General Staff would be uncritical - far from it: on reflection he considered it 'too narrow a concept', though there was no such pronouncement when first he took the carmine stripe. 13 Undoubtedly the General Staffs failure to maintain fully the principles of Moltke, which Guderian claimed it tried to do, led to its lack of technical awareness in perceiving the tank's potentiality. The events of 20th November 1917 when Guderian was working at the Headquarters of Army Group C and therefore remote from Cambrai and the first victory by massed tanks, exposed the General Staffs deficiency of foresight. That event, Guderian was to rate the moment when '. . . the tank force provided the real dynamic punch [Stosskraft] of the Entente armies since they broke through the Siegfried [Hindenburg] Line, regarded as impenetrable at Cambrai, in one morning'. Cambrai was the brain-child of Fuller, though it was hardly his fault that an initial victory should have been turned abruptly against the British within a matter of days by an equally shattering German counter-offensive which also employed new methods. Crucial to the future of warfare, as 1917 drew to its end, was the disclosure by both sides of methods which, when used in conjunction in a later decade, would revive mobility as the key to the swift decision of a campaign. At last the Germans were made aware that the tank posed a deadly threat and one to which they had no immediate answer due to their neglect of technology. At the same time they had proof that the new tactical methods which they had been developing since Generaloberst August von Mackensen and his Chief of Staff, Oberst Hans von Seeckt, had defeated the Russians in Gorlice in 1917, gave them the chance of a victory before tanks (and millions of Americans) appeared in sufficient numbers to make utter defeat unavoidable. Mackensen and Seeckt had achieved deep penetration of the Russian front in 1915 by superior organisation. They fed reserves through the breach in a narrow front and then maintained the logistic momentum of their pursuit in depth. The Russians had collapsed but it had to be admitted that they were already weakened by serious deficiencies in equipment and organisation. Again, at the end of 1915, the same German command team broke a weakened Serbian Army and practically eliminated that nation from the war. To Seeckt's joy an infantry mass made cavalry exploitation possible and convinced him that 23/258
horsemen still had a future on the battlefield; it was a false lesson but of importance to the unfolding history of Germany. For Seeckt, too, was a man of the future.
German experiments into the restoration of open warfare continued in 1917 while the tactics of defence in depth stood prominent as the expression of their strategy. In September of that year another enfeebled Russian army received a paralysing blow when an army under Generaloberst Oskar von Hutier struck hard at Riga. This time the technique of infantry penetration had been advanced a stage further. Following a surprise bombardment which was short and sharp (not in the least like those which had rolled on for days at Verdun and were at that moment pulverising the Ypres salient) the assault was spearheaded into the enemy lines by a hardened tip of specially picked and trained 'storm troopers' who infiltrated the Russian defences, bypassing opposition that could not at once be eliminated, and plunged ever deeper into the undefended enemy rear, creating chaos and uncertainty by their mere presence. Later the isolated strong points which held out would be destroyed by yet another new combination - ad hoc teams of infantry, machine-gunners and light artillery combined in the forefront of the battle under a nominated local commander who made best use of whatever was locally available to him. With this there emerged a flexible devolution of the command function: the man at the front, who best understood the situation, was again given local control within an overall design laid down quite loosely from above. Flexibility of method depended heavily upon far better signal communications than those which had failed in the 1914 campaign. The Germans had industriously made use of every possible new technical device and had so reorganised that the Signal Officers were closely associated at all levels of command so that they could exert a profound influence upon operations. German communication methods had acquired recognition as the weapon system it was, but it was still technically defective, as Albert Praun, one of its most able practitioners, points out: 'The technical problems of adequate permanent communications systems for strategic and tactical purposes during movements, of telephone connections over long distances and of the use of multiple-channel telephone cables and of wireless transmission without interfer24/258
ence still remained unsolved.' Even so the elder Moltke's 14 cloak was once more laid upon the battlefield and at once inspired outstanding results. The Russians were routed at Riga. A month later, at Caporetto, when the same treatment was meted out to the Italians, Itajy might have been thrown out of the war if only the offensive's momentum could have been maintained. Here were the weakest links. Logistical failure, the exhaustion of the leading troops, and an inability to keep control at the point of action and to feed in fresh reserves, brought things to a standstill as they had at the Marne. The methods of infiltration by storm troops and battlegroups that were employed at Cambrai in effective retaliation to the British tank, worked smoothly enough, but there a deep penetration was not sought and logistics went untested. They would not be tried again on a vast scale until 21st March when the Germans under Hindenburg and the direction of Generaloberst Eric Ludendorff launched what was intended to be the final, crushing offensive in the West, designed to complete the(task of defeating the British and the French now that Russia was out of the war and immersed in the turmoil of the Bolshevik phase of the Revolution.
The methods studied by Guderian and his contemporaries at Sedan in the winter of 1918 were those to be used in the Ludendorff 15 offensive. They were intended to fit the students for any task that the attacking formations demanded. But so far as tanks were concerned there were less than 20 of their own manufacture available to the Germans, plus a few captured machines, and so they were hardly worth study. For his part Guderian was to find himself divorced from tactics because, in May, he became quartermaster of XXXVIII Reserve Corps and thus immersed in the world of logistics - admirable experience for one who, in the years ahead, was to tax the capabilities of logisticians to the limit. To him fell the responsibility of arranging the supplies for his corps as it provided flank protection for a subsidiary offensive across the River Aisne. It began 25/258
with complete surprise on 27th May, and achieved the longest advance (14 miles) so far accomplished since trench warfare began in 1914. On that occasion his task was limited. It was tougher the next time when XXXVIII Reserve Corps was made to attack under the redoubtable Hutier on the left flank of the so-called 'Matz' offensive which was launched on 9th June with the intention of widening the scope of its failing predecessor on the left and expanding the threat to Paris. Unhappily this offensive lacked the surprise factor enjoyed by its predecessor. Moreover it was met by Frenchmen who kept their nerve and who retaliated with a brusque counterattack which turned the Germans about. Nor was it merely the steadiness of the French which helped them prevail. This time they used tanks with a concentration and strength such as had been absent in all the previous Allied defensive battles of 1918. Tank soldiers had to learn new lessons like everybody else; learning became swifter when time was cut to the bone. It had taken a year for Allied recognition of the need for concentration of tanks in attack: it took a mere three months for it to be seen that, since the tank was essentially a weapon of offence, its employment in defence must be conditioned by the principles of attack of the same need for concentration in force instead of dilution by 'penny packets', the acceptance of what was an age-old principle of orthodoxy. Even so, until 144 tanks were used along a broad front by the French on 12th June, the tendency had been for them to be employed in handfuls: the Germans put in five at St Quentin on 21st March (their first use of tanks), the British mostly used them in twos and threes; at Villers-Bretonneux on 24th April 13 German tanks had an encounter with 10 British tanks and the honours in this first tank-versus-tank engagement were about even. Against the French, the Germans scattered 15 machines along the front with scant success at Soissons and Reims on 1st June: they merely copied the French who themselves rarely committed more than six at a time throughout April and May. Not that the first more concentrated use of tanks by the French at the Matz was an enormous triumph. Of the 144, 70 were lost because insufficient care was taken to neutralise German artillery which killed the scattered French machines at will. Nevertheless where tanks were not available or were destroyed the French infantry stuck: when tanks were present they advanced. These things Guderian may have, noticed in spare moments between his normal duties so that, when he came to write of the 1918 tank battles in the course of his crusade for tanks, he was aware of them. But his primary duties came first and nobody pointed him in the tanks' direction at a moment when the claim of the tank upon attention was irresistible. Massed tank counter-attacks became the rule. Sixty went in with the French at Cutry on 28th June; another 60 on 4th July; 471 spread over various sections between 18th and 26th July to reverse irrevocably the final effort by the Germans to break through on the Marne. In this battle there began to appear a degree of mobility unseen for years, for the 'delaying defensive' practised by the Germans stimulated the resurgence of open warfare. Allied tanks and infantry, supported by artillery and aircraft, drove deep among German infantry who were mainly defended by artillery in the anti-tank role. Losses up to 80 per cent were sometimes incurred by the tanks when the guns fought them over open sights, but somehow the attackers kept going and the defending infantry fled once their guns were lost. Into this cauldron was thrown XXXVIII Reserve Corps to stabilise the right flank of the German Army as it fell back in the first week of August. In due course its frontage rested upon the original alignment between Soissons and Vesle. Of this period Guderian significantly records his operations as involved with 'mobile defence Marne-Vesle'. Five days later he, and the rest of the German Army, were shaken by reports of the heaviest tank attack of the war, one which had been launched opposite Amiens and had achieved such concentration that the artillery defence was, in places, saturated by tanks. The infantry had given way and though Ludendorff might attempt to denigrate a tank threat which he could not match, the fact remained that the German Army from this moment onward was jittery whenever these machines were supposed (let alone known) to be present. What the British regarded as a means of destroying machine-guns and barbed wire was looked on by the Germans as a 'Terror Weapon'. The withdrawal that was to become endless until an Armistice was signed in November now began. For Guderian it was a period of endless toil with little rest, made no easier because his commander came in for criticism: 'He makes life very difficult and is pretty demanding compared with good old Hofmann.' But in those days, as he wrote, 'Always there is something to 26/258
worry about... The whole Army is exhausted.' Tersely he traced the battles: '4th to 16th August. Oise.' (Here XXXVIII Corps fell back under flank leverage caused by the defeat at Amiens and the subsequent pressure exerted against the Germans on an ever widening frontage until the decision was taken to withdraw to their starting point in the Siegfried Line.) '17th August to 4th September. Aisne.' (XXXVIII Corps was covering the withdrawal in a period when increasing war weariness and obvious disaffection made it all the more apparent that even a delaying defensive was unlikely long to avail and, to Ludendorff, that the war had to be ended.) '5th to 18th September. Siegfried Line.' (The final 'backing' into the Line in which XXXVin Corps fought at the hinge of the German manoeuvre, first in Ninth Army and then in Seventh when it took over the Ninth.) Then he was sent to Italy as la (Chief Operations Officer) to the German Military Mission, just in time to be caught in the backwash from the Austrian defeat at Vittorio Veneto which was to put Austria out of the war. Yet the nature of this ephemeral appointment cannot be glossed over in consideration of the development of Guderian's career. It indicates that he had made a considerable impression upon his superiors both before, during and after the Sedan General Staff Course as an eager, imaginative and earnest staff officer who, sometimes, perhaps breached Moltke's rule: 'Accomplish much, remain in the background, be more than you appear to be'. Guderian liked that maxim, however. Fate ordained that he should experience the Revolution in double measure with a double shock. On 20th September he could not envisage an immediate end to the war, writing to Gretel that 'The peace efforts of the Austrians . . . seem utter nonsense to me. The time chosen was unfortunate - in the middle of a battle which gives only hope to the enemy ... I believe we will achieve more by dignified waiting and actions than through all this twaddle about peace. Nobody wants the war to last longer than necessary. In my opinion we will not achieve an endurable peace the way it is sought now'. He was ever the supreme optimist and this passage simply illustrates an attitude which was to both buttress and undermine his efforts in two world wars. Comprehensively he was disabused. On 30th October he found himself the junior member of a two-man German delegation that was sent to Trent to act in negotiations between the AustriaHungarian Armistice Commission who were dealing with the Italians. They travelled in a railway coach without windows or heating and arrived to find the Commission had already left. Next day they caught up by motor, crossing into the Italian lines under the protection of the White Flag and preceded by a trumpeter. But the Italians at XXVI Corps were not interested in having the Germans present and so Guderian and his companion were returned to their own lines,'. . . with our bright blue eyes blindfolded', there to find scenes of the greatest turmoil. Indignation poured from Guderian in his letter to Gretel in description of a hair-raising and shameless scene in which Germany's allies behaved 'without honour'. 'The regiments were coming back singing, without weapons but with red flowers in their place. The mob demonstrated in front of the Dante monument. All stores were plundered and burnt. Russian prisoners of war were released and took part. Soon shooting and stabbing began while the population happily joined in.' He was fortunate to escape and return to a Germany that was in even worse case. 'Our beautiful German Empire is no more. Bismarck's work lies in ruins', he wrote to Gretel from Munich on 14th November. 'Villains have torn everything down to the ground . . . All comprehension of justice and order, duty and decency, seems to have been destroyed. The Soldiers' Council still suffers from teething troubles . . . and makes ridiculous regulations ... I only regret not having civilian clothing here in order not to expose to the jostling mob the clothes which I have worn with honour for twelve years.' 16 Almost overnight the highly disciplined Army abandoned its cohesion and ceased to be reliable as Sailors' and Soldiers' Councils took the law into their hands and the old order degenerated into a whirl of putsch and counterputsch. At the end of November Guderian returned to Berlin, to a city of violence and fear, and in the knowledge that the Army no longer counted as a factor of stability in the affairs of the nations. In the knowledge, too, that Germany herself was threatened not only by Communism from within but from the encroachment of Bolshevik and Polish armies approaching the eastern frontier, while the victorious but less predatory powers in the west 27/258
closed upon the Rhine. In the New Year he was given his next assignment on the staff of Central Headquarters of the newly formed Eastern Frontier Protection Service, the organisation brought into being by Hindenburg as an agency to co-ordinate the emergency defence bands which were to spring into existence to combat the Bolshevik and Polish menace. The General Staff would run it as a symbol of its abiding integrity, but in chaos the Regular Army was of far less account than the freshly raised groups of dedicated righting men known as the Freikorps, the invention of Major Kurt von Schleicher. With a mammoth task before it the Eastern Frontier Protection Service would allow none of its staff much time to think about the immediate future, let alone long-term problems connected with tanks. Guderian was committed to the defence of German soil and the very territory in the east from which his family had sprung. At the same time the ugly conditions he had witnessed within Germany prompted a changed attitude of mind - the need to save Germany from herself - which pervaded his political philosophy thereafter. He spoke of Bismarck who had created modern Germany and, by omission, discarded Kaiser Wilhelm II who failed his nation. Subconsciously, perhaps, he began to yearn for a new Bismarck, a strong man who would save Germany.
The Blackest Days From first to last the Freikorps saw itself as the sole secure bulwark against Communism. Its advent coincided with revolution, its first role was in the destruction of the Spartacists in January 1919, and its subsequent expansion was arranged in proportion to the size of the Bolshevik threat both from within and from outside Germany. Where Freikorps' brutality stained the pages of history there was invariably a foregoing or simultaneous record of excess by their sworn opponents, for these antagonists numbered among their ranks the most deadly killers produced 28/258
by the armies of the First World War. The prime elements of fanaticism and military professionalism rubbed shoulders and exchanged blows. The Communists were led by fervent ideologists and revolutionaries. The Freikorps was largely directed and officered by men for whom the overthrow of the Monarchy and the old system of life appeared outrageous, besides aiming a blow at their own status. They were the core of an essentially patriotic group which was bitterly ashamed at losing the war; at the same time they feared the elimination of their influence and wealth. The soldiers who followed them, to use Guderian's definition, were 'the real fighting men', those who represented 'Germany's last chance'. Few who fought with or against the Freikorps would deny their military prowess, but inevitably the ruthless and, at times, depraved nature of their behaviour became a byword even when undeserved. Excesses, of course, were "all the more likely when it is realised that each unit and formation owed direct allegiance to the men who raised and commanded them and that, initially, the Government was compelled to make do with them for want of an alternative. Largest and most efficient of all the Freikorps formations was the Iron Brigade. It had been raised by Major Joseph Bischoff-'an old campaigner'- partly from the most determined elements of Eighth Army which had fought Germany's battles in Russia from the start. As that army was brought home under the arrangements made by Generaloberst von Seeckt and his la, Major Freiherr Werner von Fritsch, the belligerent minority who wished to carry on with the fight joined Bischoff and his type. Seeckt also wished to fight. Early in 1919 he had become Chief of Staff of Frontier Protection Service, North, at Bartenstein - at the same time as Hauptmann Guderian was sent as a staff officer to Frontier Protection Service, South, at Breslau. It was in the north where the action was hottest and here that the ablest men began to congregate. Guderian was transferred to Bartenstein in March. Because the Bolsheviks pressed hardest into the Baltic States and closely threatened the heart of Prussian heritage, tribal sentiments were strongly aroused and the toughest of the Freikorps were attracted in that direction. Furthermore they were tempted by promises of free land, and there arose in the minds of some that what could be taken by the sword would be theirs at the peace - that the more Latvians who died the more vacant estates there would be. They did not all think this way: the genuine settler wants to settle in friendly territory. Nevertheless one of the oldest lures in history attracted the fiercest, most predatory agents of a feudal-style warfare. Bischoff s Iron Brigade rapidly raised its strength to 15,000 men, organised into three regiments fully supported by artillery. Soon it had to be renamed the Iron Division and was in need of a properly constituted staff. Unavoidably it became a significant political force, and with redoubled effect in the hands of Guderian's revered pre-war instructor at the War Academy - Generalmajor R端diger von der Goltz 17 who had won a distinctive reputation for determined leadership in unusual situations during the war. Von der Goltz was a hero - with all the exaggeration and magnetism that invoked. Seeckt had mixed feelings about von der Goltz and his followers. As stopgaps prior to reconstitution of a new army, they were essential to the defence of Germany against the traditional enemy from the East. On the other hand he had to weigh the Freikorps' impact on Germany's internal security: their independence of mind and intention was a constant threat to a weak Government which existed under terrible pressures from all sides, pressures that would soon multiply when the terms of the Peace Treaty became known. In the spring of 1919 Germany stagnated politically in a fool's paradise. Apart from a handful of politicians and soldiers, her people, short of food, ill-clad and frightened, entertained false hopes (built on propaganda delusions) that her erstwhile enemies would be 'realistically' generous and permit the German Empire to revert to a semblance of its pre-war status: the generous settlement by the British with the defeated Boers earlier in the century gave grounds for this optimism. But Germany's former enemies were the prey of the same hate propaganda which had sustained their war effort, and they regarded the people who had started the war as 'criminal' particularly the dominant Prussians and their institutions. Some of these things Seeckt already knew (and when he shortly became Military Member of the Peace Commission to Versailles would understand only too well): he grasped at anything that might shore up German morale and which might, at the same time, embarrass the Entente. By April, von der Goltz had repulsed 29/258
the Red Russians in Lithuania and from the southern part of Latvia. At the same time he delved in politics by appointing a Latvian prime minister of his own nomination, Karlis Ulmanis. His operations were accompanied by a purge, the pitiless execution of Reds, or anybody suspected of Communist sympathies, and plans for the taking of Riga. Seeckt favoured the Riga operation also because German presence in the Baltic States alongside White Russian troops would provide a bridge with a future Russian government, assuming that the Whites achieved their aim of advancing on Petrograd and unseating the Reds - a nebulous aim which also had the support of the Entente powers. The bridge was desirable since Germany was totally without allies and this she could not afford to be. It was a delicate situation and one demanding an almost impossibly tight supervision over von der Goltz and the Iron Division — the most aggressively German and volatile elements in the polyglot units who were endeavouring to co-operate against the Reds while retaining Entente goodwill. The German Government, which had no alternative but to comply with the wishes of the Entente, could not overtly support von der Goltz's expansionist schemes. Yet a way round the problem of committing the Iron Division to the attack upon Riga on 21st May was found. To this division on 2nd June went Guderian as 2nd General Staff Officer, an appointment that was clearly intended by Seeckt and Fritsch to reinforce General Staff influence at the most sensitive spot. It was a pointer to the future and their confidence in this young officer of a mere thirty years that they reposed such trust in his judgement at a time of mortal danger when patriotic feelings could so easily overcome circumspection. If he did well his sound prospects would be vastly enhanced: not only was Seeckt the man of the future, so too were Wilhelm Heye (the new Chief of Staff) and Fritsch: those who were selected for high places usually carried their most favoured staff officers along wit]j them. Within only a few days, on 21st June, in a battle at Lemsal, Guderian displayed, for the first time in a moment of critical importance, that tactical flair for which he was to become famous. The leading column under Hauptmann Blankenburg failed after its commander had been wounded. Guderian at once saw the danger but recognised also an opportunity. On his own initiative he alerted a reserve infantry regiment, throwing it into the fray to keep the momentum of the attack rolling. It was not his fault that the attack finally broke down due to insufficient preparation and inadequate resources. Already, of course, the situation was passing out of German control, and largely they were to blame. The fall of Riga had been followed by massacres to which Bolsheviks, Germans and Latvians had contributed. Guderian reported in a letter that the Bolsheviks had killed over 4,000 people, but there is enough evidence to show that as many atrocities were committed by their opponents. Standards fall low in times of desperation. A member of the Freikorps wrote: 'Where once peaceful villages stood was only soot, ashes and burning embers as we passed. We kindled a funeral pyre, and more than dead material burned there - there burned our hopes . . . the laws and values of the civilised world . . . and so we came back swaggering, drunken, laden with plunder'. They certainly overstepped the bounds of common sense at a time when moderation might have paid. Ulmanis had already complained that the Germans were driving the Latvians towards Communism '. . . the Latvian people have found that the Bolsheviks are less cruel than the Germans' he wrote. Von der Goltz replaced Ulmanis with a new government of his own choice under Andreas Needra and the Allies, who until now had vacillated, recognised at last the implications of von der Goltz's ambitions. Irresistible pressure was at once applied by the Entente to halt the rape of Latvia. In May the terms of the Peace Treaty became public and on 28th June the Tuc treaty of Versailles, in all its severity, was signed. It dealt a shattering blow to Germany, her armed forces and her hopes. The Navy would be forbidden U-boats and great warships; for the Army there were to be no more aircraft, heavy artillery, gas or tanks. Moreover the Army itself was to be reduced to a strength of 100,000 by 3rd March 1920 and those institutions in which Guderian had been educated - the Cadet College at Lichterfelde, the War Academy and the Great General Staff - abolished. Germany would soon be defenceless, as Hindenburg, Seeckt and the upper hierarchy fully recognised. Optimistic notions of retaining what the Allies now forbade had to be abandoned; only 30/258
through subterfuge could much be saved. Seeckt, appointed as Chairman of the Preparatory Commission of the Peacetime Army and the Commander-in-Chief designate, had as his primary task the removal of German soldiers from the Baltic States and, as a desirable corollary, the elimination of Freikorps' power. It was he who at once persuaded von der Goltz to withdraw from Riga, making it clear how tenuous was the future but also striking a wounding blow at those like Guderian whose loyalties were torn between military obedience and patriotism. All at once everything Guderian held dear was demolished and emotions, such as can hardly be imagined by anybody with a grain of patriotism who has not suffered the ignominy of sudden defeat, were aroused. Every letter to Gretel tells of a kind of desperation and almost unbearable personal inner tension that is fundamental to an understanding of his subsequent career. On 14th May he had recorded astonishment at what he called the 'beer-calmness' of the East Prussians at the revelation of the peace terms and their apparently supine acceptance of their implications. 'If we accept this peace we are finished as we may be if we don't. Therefore I am for doing nothing. The Entente can then seize by force what it wants. We shall see how far they get for they can do no more than destroy us. If we only still had the army, our proud, beautiful army, such an ignominy would not have been possible'. But already he knew that the existing German forces in the Baltic States, with the notable exception of the Iron Division, were fading away because '. . . they will not fight for the Fatherland, only the land they would be settled on'. He was disgusted. On 6th July he heard they must withdraw from Riga and that same day had received a realistic letter of reproof from a worried Gretel: 'I can understand your rage at this shameful treaty', she wrote, 'and yet a few people cannot alter things, their sacrifice is in vain. The Fatherland will need you later on, the moment has not come . . . nothing can be achieved now that the peace has been signed and the conditions accepted by this criminal government. So you will have no backing for your campaign in the Baltic States . . .' The letter was intended to calm him but he rarely paid much attention to her political advice sound though it was on this occasion. On the 12th he passionately replied: 'You write that our work here is hopeless. That may be so. But who can judge whether some small success may yet materialise out of these struggles? . . . The enemy resolves to destroy us. So be it. The English can certainly force us to leave the country and with it cut the only connection we still have with Russia . . . The enemy now has the power to impose his will... in spite of that: show strength and never give in ... 'Salvation can only come from within us. We ourselves have to see to it that the shameful peace cannot be implemented, that our proud army does not disappear and that, at least, an attempt is made to save its honour. We will try to put into practice the solemn promises we carelessly made earlier. You well know the " Wacht am Rhein" and the old Prussian march: "As long as a drop of blood flows, a fist the sword draws . . . May the day be dark, may the sun.shine bright, I am a Prussian and Prussian I will be". The day now is gloomy. Everything depends now on keeping the oath . . . Everybody who still has the smallest sense of honour must say: I will help. 'Believe me, my darling, above all I would love to return to you and the children ... I am not acting recklessly. I have given this step very careful thought. 'An officer can do nothing more in Germany. According to the Peace Treaty the General Staff is to be abandoned. It is questionable whether the next independent German government will, in general, still keep reactionary officers. Nevertheless, one cannot expect an old Prussian officer to serve under criminals. I would therefore resign my commission. Where shall I go? Do we receive a well-earned pension? . . . Shall I perhaps lead, under French control, a so-called "company" of continuously mutineering policemen and adorn my hat with the black, red, golden cockade of shame? You cannot expect that of me - at least not now when all the possibilities have yet to be exhausted and I have not yet become a miserable scoundrel.' Towards the end of July, Guderian (who for most of this time had acted as 1st Staff Officer of the Iron Division in the absence of the actual la) wrote a memorandum for Bischoff. It is difficult to translate into English in all its original force, for Guderian composed with an elaborate - and at times dramatic - style. It began by summarising the deteriorating political situation, reflecting Seeckt's earlier aims, continued with views that were his own and divergent from official policy: 'Germany is then surrounded at her borders by Entente states. Industry and commerce are sub31/258
ject to supervision by the Entente. An upsurge and strengthening of the German Empire is excluded. 'Therefore the question arises, how to keep a way open to Russia through the Baltic? 'The Division has not abandoned the plan to establish a bridge between Germany and Russia, even though the policy with Latvia has been wrecked. It has made contact with [White] Russian units in Mitau in order to achieve an association with the Russians. 'Two political alternatives are offered by the Russians. One sees them joining the Entente as the best and right way. This view is predominant in Lieven's battalion and is, therefore, English orientated. The larger part of this battalion has, in the meantime, been taken to Reval for action on the Northern Front. 'The Regiment of Graf Keller, which is led by Bermondt, represents the other view. This Regiment is German orientated. Colonel Bermondt considers the German Empire strong enough to help the Russians in their endeavours, particularly as an alliance with Russia is of the greatest significance and would free Germany from encirclement. Important German authorities, like High Command North and Zegrost, support the Division. Even if they were not convinced of the hope for the plan they nevertheless thought it should be tried.18 In this they were supported by the 2nd General Staff officer , Hauptmann Guderian, who personally went to High Command North at Bartenstein. 'The German Empire does no't suffer pecuniary damage by handing over war material [to the Russians] as, according to the Peace Treaty, the largest part of it has to be given to the Entente for destruction. 'If the Division remains in the Baltic States against the orders of the Government it should naturally make itself recognisable as Russian troops. 'The transfer depends primarily upon its being financed by the Russians . . . The Division has forbidden a preliminary transfer of individual formations. Only through a complete transfer can the rightful demands be met... If individual officers and men go over they do so at their own peril . . . The Entente insists on the speediest evacuation of the Baltic States which has been emphasised emphatically at various discussions . . . The English fear a reorganisation of Germany in the Baltic States and, simultaneously, the nullification of the Versailles Treaty 19. The Higher Command has already issued orders for an evacuation . . .' This document deeply impressed Bi'schoff because it represented his own ideas. Yet its bias was hardly that of the dispassionate staff officer sent by Seeckt to restrain the Iron Division. Guderian's personal preferences show through along with the political notions which disturbed so many German officers of his persuasion. Bischoff remarked that he had no desire to ask the 'so-called Weimar Coalition' Government for anything impossible. 'Even if the Government is unable to identify itself openly with us ... it does not mean that in reality it has to work against us or make our work impossible'. But, Micawber-like, he, Guderian and the rest waited for something to turn up in their favour even after the first orders for a phased withdrawal were received, August 23rd was the day set for the first departures. 'I travelled with Hauptmann Guderian', wrote Bischoff,'. . . still hoping that perhaps a counter order might yet arrive. As I stood in front of the troops, and saw misgivings in their eyes whether it really was in earnest and the hope that it was not, all doubts and misgivings fell from me. I was convinced that the whole division would stand behind me.' He refused to order entrainment and called upon the troops to remain. There was a display of wild enthusiasm and a torchlight procession in celebration. This was the awful moment of climax after a period of terrible anxiety for Guderian. On 26th July he had replied to a letter in which Gretel had complained of his seeming indifference to her and the children. 'I need peace and quiet in a deep wood - away from work to become calmer, to be rid of these emotional upsets . . . The emotions stir one's nerves until one feels raving mad. You must cure me once more - as I know you will in a few days and twist me round your little finger.' But in tne same letter he had asked, 'Where is there a man who dares to commit a single satisfactory deed?' His memorandum and personal pleading had warned those at Bartenstein that he did not wholeheartedly support Seeckt although Seeckt at that moment was suffering a heart attack which, temporarily, put him out of action. On 27th August he had written to Gretel 32/258
about his feelings on 23rd August. 'My dearest little woman' - and told her again of the torture he was enduring. 'I had to make the most difficult decision of my life and take a step fraught with consequence. May God grant us success. We acted for the best, for our country and our people.' He concluded: 'Matters are on a razor's edge and I am nearly at my wit's ends. It is desperate with us. The morale of the troops is good - almost as in 1914.' He had flung his career into the melting pot and opted to stay with an organisation which did not have first call upon his loyalty. It could have been an irredeemable turning point in his life had not his masters at Bartenstein also been torn by identical conflicts of conscience. The Great German General Staff now demonstrated its compassion and its appreciation of a young staff officer whose abilities it valued highly 20: it pre-emptorily recalled him to Bartenstein and prevented him from going near the Iron Division again.
It - probably Oberst Heye, who in a few years would become C-in-C - tried to provide time for Guderian's inner storm to subside and the impulsive facet of his nature - that side which rebelled against injustice and against harm to the interests of the soldiers he respected - to be subjugated once more to the discipline of the Staff Corps. But his involvement with politics and his susceptibility to the lures of extremist factions marked an important stage in his development. Within the rules of the Prussian disciplinary code he had carried an argument up to and then beyond the point of decision: he had disobeyed, had so nearly been destroyed and yet had survived. It had been painful and yet it indicated the feasibility of breaking rules providing the cause seemed just. The parting of the ways had come between the established army that Seeckt was restoring, and the freebooters of the Freikorps who were to prolong their resistance and become transfigured 33/258
into the forces that are recognisable as the vanguard of the Nazis. In Bartenstein, Guderian obstinately chanced his arm and continued the struggle on behalf of the Iron Division. But its lonely stand in the Baltic was as hopeless as Gretel originally said. Although on the 27th he had written pessimistically that he could not expect to remain in a General Staff which had been reduced to 120 officers or expect a place in the Frontier Force, on the 31st optimism reasserted itself and led him to the bitter end: 'Up to date the movement in Kurland has gone in such a way that it will produce the results desired by the troops. It means, therefore, permission for settlers, fighting Bolshevism and the continuing existence of a national force capable of improvement. It would be welcome if Graf Goltz were to remain at the head of the corps. He is an excellent man with good soldiers, has tremendous diplomatic qualities and is of a high-minded disposition.' This letter was just another illustration of a blind spot in his outlook, an inability to foresee or evaluate political factors, which time was not to cure. If on 15th September he could encourage Bischoff on the lines that '. . . the Government, Reichs Defence Ministry and Foreign Office would not abandon the Iron Division and the other troops in the Baltic States' that unrealistic persuasion was soon undermined along with his own position. He had believed what he had been told and had failed to examine political forces. Freikorps' numbers were dwindling as the disenchanted drifted home and their opponents increased in such strength that military defeat became inevitable. In October the German forces were beaten in battle. Thereafter further official support for the Freikorps, even clandestinely given, was pointless. At the end of September Guderian had been put out of harm's way, or as he wrote to Gretel,'. . . please remember that I am just now plunged into loneliness'. They posted him to a place of relative political innocu-ity - with Reichswehr Brigade 10 in Hanover. Then, in January 1920, he was given what was, maybe, an essential respite from General Staff work and sent to rejoin his old 10th Jdger Battalion at Goslar as a company commander. The future he regarded gloomily, recording in Panzer Leader that he had left the General Staff'... in circumstances not of the happiest'. He was distinctly under a cloud in fact! He had sampled the heady wine of ideological nationalism, found it tempting but then had it dashed from his lips. He had been retained as part of the sober and respectable officer corps whose task it was to restore the stability of an old and trusted order to Germany, and thus he was diverted from the self-destruction upon which the Freikorps was bent. This withdrawal from hot political contacts was effective if not absolute. There is little doubt that his removal from the General Staff post inflicted a severe and memorable shock. Under conditions of moderate political pressure in the future he would react like a Pavlovian-conditioned animal and seem to resist positive political commitment by assuming an attitude of military propriety. Yet Guderian always retained a proneness to subversive intervention into matters which he judged to be of overriding importance. This he would justify as the ultimate interpretation of Prussian discipline's inner meaning, but it was a proclivity of which illdisposed colleagues in the future became increasingly wary. Not did he quite forgive Seeckt for his part in sanctioning the withdrawal from the Baltic States - even though he paid lip-service to the fundamental tenets of Seecktian political behaviour. Not long after the Second World War Guderian gave the Americans a character sketch of Seeckt which, in one way, was more revealing of himself than it was of the subject. Seeckt, he said,'. . . was alert, reflective, cool and an almost timid person'. The italics are mine because it is a judgement, so far as I am aware, which is unique, somewhat different to Guderian's subsequent assessment that Seeckt was 'coldly calculating'. It was at variance with the consensus of opinion among German generals - those like Manstein 21, Guderian's old classmate at the War Academy who had served under Seeckt in war and peace, when he wrote of... the inner fire that inspired him and the iron will which made him a leader of men'. Seeckt was the new Commander-in-Chief and faced with the formidable task of rebuilding an army that was deep in politics at a time when a weak Government was threatened with serious internal disorders. He recovered from his heart attack in sufficient time to meet the first major challenge to his intention of steering the Army out of politics, a challenge which came, not unexpectedly, from the remnants of the Freikorps, homeward-bound in hostile mood from the Baltic with the ambitious von der Goltz in their midst. Officially they had been abolished though many were still in the Baltic, and for years they were to reappear in various forms. Men such as von 34/258
der Goltz were not easily denied. In March 1920 the long-feared coup took place when elements of the Freikorps converged on Berlin and appeared in several other cities in response to a putsch initiated by a politically inept civil servant called Wolfgang Kapp. Backed by Ludendorff, the Freikorps, and those who still looked upon them as the salvation of Germany, put heavy pressure upon the Government and formed a puppet regime of their own in Berlin. Seeckt refused the request of the Government to use the Reichswehr against the Freikorps saying, 'Would you force a battle at the Brandenburg Tor between troops who a year and a half ago were fighting shoulder to shoulder against the enemy?' Instead he took indefinite leave and thereby emphasised his professed determination to keep the Army out of politics. Into his place Kapp put von der Goltz, but it was all a charade. A General Strike called by the real Government quickly brought about the collapse of Kapp, with his ramshackle organisation, and Seeckt was able to return to the work of reconstruction with a strengthened hand.
There was little bloodshed as a result of the Kapp putsch even though the Freikorps marched on Berlin and made its presence felt in various other parts of Germany. The 10th J채ger Battalion, Guderian with it, were on stand-by and he was provided with light comic relief when most of his fellow company commanders were captured by rebels in Hildesheim. They managed, however, to seize guns from the rebels. In five days all was over. Commonsense persuaded him to resist the temptation to join with Kapp and von der Goltz in their attempt to set up a military dictatorship. A year later, during the Max Holtz disturbances, and in 1923 at the time of the Hitler putsch in Munich, Guderian remained loyal to Seeckt and the new Reichswehr 22as it grew as a separate instrument of state, controlled by the Chief of the Army High Command, working through and not against the Republic to which they swore their oath of allegiance. Nevertheless Guderian had railed, on 8th April 1920, against 'lack of energetic action' in the 35/258
aftermath of the Kapp putsch and'. . . the cowardice, stupidity and weakness of this lamentable Government. . . when at long last will the Saviour come . . . ? I am becoming more and more pessimistic with regard to the hope for peace. We are in the middle of a Thirty Years' War. It is sad but cannot be altered. Our children will only know the word peace by its name'. Soon he was answered by a ruthless killing of Communists in the Ruhr by units of the Army and the Freikorps of Ritter von Epp. In the reorganisation of the Reichswehr, Seeckt's aim encompassed, in addition to political isolation, the creation of a defence force which could be so constructed that it laid the foundation for the resurrection of the German Army when the time was ripe. The 100,000 men it was to recruit, many of whom would be of commissioned or non-commissioned officer calibre, would form a strong foundation of leadership in the event of expansion. Though the General Staff was proscribed, its function and existence were to be preserved in a special Truppenamt (Troop Office) with responsibility for defence, organisation, intelligence and training. In addition a civilian department, guided by ex-General Staff officers, carried out research into history and future military developments. In the shadow of defeat the new organisation was dedicated to the analysis of what had gone wrong and to the development of every feasible scheme of modernisation which could be studied or carried out within, or just beyond, the fringes of the Versailles Treaty. The officers of the German Army performed their task in an atmosphere absolutely different from that enjoyed by their predecessors. Guderian stated that 'They had to relinquish many privileges and forego many cherished traditions, and they did so to save their Fatherland from inundation by the flood of Asiatic Bolshevism then already threatening. The Weimar Republic did not succeed in turning this marriage of convenience into a love match. 23 No genuine attachment evolved between the officer corps and the new State.' Until the end of 1921 Guderian was committed to a solitary function - lowly but fundamental: that of training a company of infantry. Since this was almost his first spell of duty in command of soldiers since 1914 (apart from the brief month as a temporary battalion commander in September 1917) and a considerable diminution of responsibility, he threw the most terrific energy into the task and drove his men hard. This was his first opportunity to become involved with exercises at the lowest level in consolidating the lessons of 1918. In 1921 there were exploratory manoeuvres with mechanised troops in the Harz near Goslar. The task was dear to his heart since it enabled him to experiment with the closer officer-man relationship that to him was so important - as it was to Seeckt whose policy sought a closing of the gap between the ranks. He could be rough with the men, even rougher with the officers, and his caustic tongue would lash and hurt. Yet he was fair and, as a trainer, systematically progressive, meticulously thorough, and always careful to explain the reasons for whatever demands he made. Only a company of the finest skill, morale and polish could be the product of such inspired and relentless leadership by a man who believed as much in persuasion as brute compulsion. They never forgot him and always welcomed him back. 24 When the time came to leave, his men expressed their feelings in a piece of verse which perfectly sums up his impact upon ordinary soldiers: It is you, Hauptmann Guderian Who not merely saw an instrument in man, Who taught us the 'why' of such unavoidable toil. If things were sometimes severe, then duty is harsh! What fears the Warrior! The company is grateful.
The Search For a Saviour At the heart of the task of military reconstruction facing Germany, as Hans von Seeckt saw it in 1921, was the restitution of the ancient and traditional codes of honour and obedience and their fusion with a modern, forward-looking outlook in the fields of strategy and tactics as conditioned by burgeoning technology. Seeckt, like so many of his predecessors and contemporaries, was a man of maxims. Concerning the soldier's honour which demanded of an officer, for example, that he defend to the utmost not only his own character but that of his wife also, he was un36/258
bending: 'Herein lies the new and serious duty of the commander, the duty of severity for honour's sake', he wrote. The requirement was not so very new but he felt it had to be said over and again. Nor was he pronouncing startling originalities when he wrote: 'The more efficient this [regular] army, the greater its mobility, the more resolute and competent its command, the greater will be the chance of beating the opposing forces' and demanded: 'High mobility, to be attained by the employment of numerous and highly efficient cavalry, by the fullest possible use of motor transport and by the marching capacity of infantry; the most effective armament and continuous replacement of men and material'. He did not actually exclude tanks from his inventory, even though they were not mentioned: these he regarded as 'developing into a "special troop" besides Infantry, Cavalry and Artillery' - an important distinction which was to cause much controversy later on. In addition to the Truppenamt and related central organs of the Reichswehr, command Inspectorates were set up to control and probe into matters which Seeckt deemed essential for the future. Among them was the Inspectorate of Transport Troops, under General von Tschis-chwitz, whose wide-ranging task encompassed both their tactical employment and the widespread complexities of their administration - such matters as fuel supply, repair and maintenance and road construction, none of which had been seriously tackled except from the angle of logistic supply of a fixed front prior to 1918. It was to this Inspectorate that Guderian was nominated in 1922. But the manner of his posting clearly, and for sufficient reason, undermined his confidence in what the future held. A vague enquiry by his colonel in the autumn of 1921 as to his feelings about rejoining the Staff, was followed by a long silence until January when he received a telephone call from Oberstleutnant Joachim von St端lpnagel of the Truppenamt, asking why he had not reported to the 7th (Bavarian) Motorised Transport Battalion at Munich. There had been a breakdown in staff duties. Immediately, however, a suspicious Guderian was demanding explanations. What was going on? How stood his prospects? At a time when promotion was stationary a job in a lonely Bavarian Transport Battalion far from represented a staff appointment with sound prospects. The appointment sounded all too much like a side-track, remote from a place at the centre of things to which Guderian was accustomed and which an ambitious officer required as a springboard for advancement. St端lpnagel hastened to explain that he was destined to become the General Staff officer to Tschischwitz but that the posting to Munich was to enable him to obtain prior, first-hand experience of transport troops. He followed this with a letter on the 16th January which was a mixture of placation and sound advice: '. . . your employment with the Inspectorate of Motorised Troops is intended to be a special recognition for your performances up till now. To speak in confidence, you are supposed to transmit the intentions of the General Staff to the motorised troops . . . You can imagine that some specialists will not like your coming. All the more important it is for you to break through with tact and understanding for the larger interests and gain the recognition of the specialists.' At that time, in every army, there yawned a gulf between specialists and regimental and staff soldiers, a gulf that was exceptionally wide in the German Army due to a common contempt for 'rude mechanicals'. With Guderian no such snobbery existed. His service with the signallers had eliminated any there might have been and so his selection for this task was admirably made. He was, as he wrote, delighted and made happier still by Major Oswald Lutz, the battalion commander in Munich, whose task it was to give him all the experience possible in less than three months. Lutz was a railway engineer by training, a man of remarkably clear mental aptitude and thoroughly receptive to new ideas. He also possessed the sort of whimsical humour that was compatible with Guderian's kind of banter: he once ordered the cadets at the training school to climb into the trees and when they returned to the ground explained that he had done so in order to see 'if their platoon leader would go up into the trees for me'. He had! Guderian was on the threshold of his last years of comparative repose in his military career. Ahead lay a decade of study, the development of revolutionary ideas and the pursuit of knowledge stimulated by the demand that he should teach. It was of small account - in fact it was to his eventual advantage - when, at the outset in the Inspectorate, Tschischwitz' s Chief of Staff, Major Fetter, insisted upon overruling his general concerning the sort of work upon which Gu37/258
derian was employed - as any Chief of Staff in the German Army was fully entitled to do. Instead of directing Guderian's energies upon the organisation and employment of motorised troops in a combat role he was put to work on logistics. The prospect appalled him. He protested and was overruled: he asked to be sent back to the IQthJdgers and was told quite firmly not to argue and instead to get on with his job. It could not have been better than if it had been so arranged. It deflated Guderian's ego and cleared his mind so that he could tackle a totally new experience from first principles, working for men who were determined to be masters in their own house. The General Staff, even in its new, covert guise, was a remarkably tightly knit organisation with a talent for making the best use of its component parts. Seeckt might desire that its members should conform to a standard code of conduct in addition to standardised methods of work, but, in the final analysis, careful attention was given to putting the right men into the most appropriate employment. It is to be wondered, however, if anybody had foreseen the outcome of posting young Guderian to a rather out of the way appointment in 1922, whether they would have held back. For Guderian was bent on innovation on a scale which would leave the General Staff and, eventually, the world breathless. By the application of that dynamic industry which now was second nature, he mastered the office work and decentralised routine subjects to the clerks. With mundane things out of the way he could turn his mind to what Tschischwitz - a hard taskmaster - had always intended he should do: study motorised troops. He entered an academic world, almost cutting himself off from the political and economic turmoil that went on outside - the upheavals of putsch and counter-putsch; the effects of allied reparations on the economy with the attendant French occupation of the Ruhr in 1923 and the runaway inflation of the Mark which did fearful damage to stable segments of society and crippled industry; the rise of the private armies - Stahlhelms, Sturm Abteilung 25 and their ilk; the prevalent wavering of a weakened democracy before the threat of strong men and vested interests. Political events he carefully watched but studiously managed to avoid or deflect since his work and income remained fairly constant. Yet, in anger, he could sympathise with political aspirations and formulate political alignments even though, as an officer, he was neither allowed to take part in politics nor cast a vote. At heart he remained a patriot in search of a Saviour - a new Bismarck - for his country and, when in 1925, Paul von Hindenburg, a staunch monarchist, became Reichspresident and inaugurated, in company with Seeckt and Gustav Stresemann, a period of tranquillity, it seemed possible that the deity he longed for had been found. In a letter to his mother on 21st September 1925 he described the great ovation Hindenburg received when he visited the annual Army manoeuvres - the enthusiasm of the people for the man, the torchlight processions and the specially composed poems recalling the glories of the past. He rarely mentioned the politician Stresemann whose achievements were, in fact, considerable, but consigned him, as a politician, to a lower place, well beneath the god-head, the President. But the Army upon which so much glory had been built in the past, was now a feeble specimen armed with material that could have little practical use either in war or for experiments into the future. The tracked transport vehicles in the columns were neither robust nor agile enough to simulate the cross-country movement demanded of fully mobile troops. Moreover they were even more vulnerable than the cavalry and infantry who had been shot down by droves in the course of five years' combat. Some form of protection, a vehicle with armeur since men could not be personally armoured, was obviously needed and this Guderian must have realised from the start, even though in Panzer Leader he makes awfully heavy weather of describing the evolution of his mental processes. Later he was to complain that the official historical division had failed because it did not issue progressive directives to the Army Archives Office which was working on the history of the First World War, saying: 'The problems of modern warfare, problems arising from air and armoured operations, had deliberately been neglected, the historians not being equal to the task'. Though a trifle unfair (the historians quite reasonably tackled the war in chronological order) his remark that the history 'had not even reached the tank battle of Cambrai by the time the Second World War broke out' was only too true. Nor, for that matter, had the British Official History got that far by 1939. So Guderian was compelled to look elsewhere for precedents from a few German tank survivors, particularly from Leutnant Ernst Vol38/258
kheim 26 (the most experienced of German tank survivors), from a couple of German handbooks, but also from the French and, above all, the British practitioners.
In 1923 the British became unique in establishing a Tank Corps that was detached from the Infantry, Cavalry and Artillery; a separation that was the result of the expression of an independent line of thought by those among them who had built the tank force into a match-winning combination at the end of 1918 and who had devised schemes which bordered upon the suggestion that special Tank Armies ought to be created. The brain behind these ideas was Fuller's, whose talents for analysis, organisation and penetrating expression had marked him out as a staff officer and a reforming military genius of the very first water. Immediately after the war Fuller had written highly perceptive articles expounding the future of armoured mechanised warfare dominated by the tank and by aircraft. At the same time a good book about the Tank Corps by the brothers Williams Ellis, had been published in 1919. Also at that time Captain Basil Liddell Hart 27 was beginning to make a name for himself by his early lectures and writings on infantry tactical systems which were very similar to those already in use in the German Army. But it was to Fuller who Liddell Hart turned for guidance on tanks and to Fuller who Guderian looked for initial guidance with regard to the development of armoured warfare - notwithstanding the implication in a paragraph on page 20 of Panzer Leader that Liddell Hart provided the principal inspiration. In fact, that paragraph appears only in the English editions of Panzer Leader, for which Liddell Hart wrote the foreword, and not in the original German language Erinnerungen eines Soldaten. Moreover there is no mention of works by Liddell Hart in the bibliography of Guderian's Achtung! Panzer! (though he is mentioned in company with Fuller, Martel and de Gaulle in the text of that book) whereas books by Fuller, Martel and de Gaulle do appear in that book's bibliography. Guderian's elder son, in fact, writes: 'As far as I know it was Fuller who made the most suggestions. Once before the war my father visited him. Fuller was almost certainly more competent as an active officer than Captain B.H.Liddell Hart... At any rate my father often spoke of him [Fuller] while I cannot remember other names being mentioned at that time [before 1939] . . . The greater emphasis upon Liddell Hart seems to have developed through contacts after the war.' In the simplest terms Fuller envisaged armoured mechanised armies which had the inherent capability, supported by aircraft and artillery, to breach a fortified line and then achieve deep pene39/258
tration of enemy territory, mopping up the forward artillery zones, knocking out headquarters, capturing supply dumps, cutting communications and generally causing such damage and confusion amid the least well defended parts of the enemy hinterland that a total collapse of morale, command and control and resistance could be expected.
To sustain operations of this kind Fuller demanded heavy tanks for breaching the line in what, by 1918, was a conventional assault with infantry and artillery. This would be simultaneous with exploitation in depth by lighter and faster tanks that had a speed of 20 mph and a circuit action of 150 to 200 miles. They would be supported by mobile artillery, tractor-drawn infantry and cavalry 'if [the latter] have sufficient endurance to keep up a pursuit of at least 20 miles per day for a period of 5 to 7 days'.28 For practical experiments the British possessed, in addition to the clumsy machines with which they had fought in the war, a new family of much more agile heavy, medium and light tanks along with armoured cars, cross-country lorries and troop transports and self-propelled artillery. Mainly these machines existed only in prototype but by the middle 1920s there was a growing number of the Vickers Medium tank - a fighting vehicle which, though so thin of skin as to be nearly pervious to ordinary bullets, achieved new standards in speed and reliability (without saying too much for the latter) along with an improved layout of the fighting compartment which allowed the crew to make best use of their single 47mm quickfiring gun, in its rotating turret, and of several machine-guns. With this sort of equipment, such as no other nation had either in sufficient quantity or quality until the 1930s, the British were able to establish a lead both in theory and practice. In the summer of 1927 they deployed a completely motorised force of all arms on Salisbury Plain and used it to such effect that a conventional horse and foot force was hopelessly outmanoeuvred - despite the motorised force being inferior in number, bereft of an established technique and almost totally devoid of wireless for command and control. The other nations of the world intently watched and eagerly began to emulate what they had seen.
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By order of the Versailles Treaty (or Diktat in German terminology) the Germans could only listen, take, note, study and wait - their every false move observed and squashed by the members of a Control Commission which acted as monitors of good behaviour. But monitors have their blind spots and treaties their loop-holes: the all-demanding sport with the Germans was finding them. The Versailles Treaty did not prohibit Germany from having allies. What more sensible policy that she should look to another 'isolated power' for the alliance that the Entente discouraged? When, in 1921, Lenin made overtures for a German-Russian treaty of co-operation, Seeckt welcomed the new 'bridge', such as he had sought in 1919 in company with different supporters on the Russian side. Moreover Seeckt, as the most powerful man in Germany, carried the political weight to push through the Treaty of Rapallo which was signed on 17th April 1922, which restored collaboration between the signatories and encouraged, among other things, military cooperation, particularly with regard to the projects of more advanced technology such as tanks, gas and aircraft.
In due course three experimental training centres were set up in Russia where machines, substances and techniques could be tested and a cadre of specialists trained. Not only were Russianbuilt tanks (the MS I and the MS II with its 37mm gun) developed and employed for the most part, but also certain German designs. One was a 9 ton light tank (Leichter Traktor) armed with a high velocity 37mm gun in a fully rotating turret, produced in secret as agricultural machinery by the firm of Rheinmetall in 1926 or thereabouts and assembled in Russia: it had a remarkable similarity in layout to the British Medium. Another was the heavy, 20 ton Grosstraktor which appeared about 1929 and was armed with a short, low velocity 75mm gun in a fully traversing turret mounted on a hull inherited from an experimental tank of 1918 vintage - the A7V(U) . Produced secretly in Germany and at once shipped to the tank testing ground on the Kama River, in 41/258
Russia, the secret existence and quick disappearance of these machines neatly skirted infringement of the Versailles Treaty. Thus small tank design cells were formed within German industry (Krupp and Daimler Benz came in at this stage along with Rheinmetall) to tackle basic design and production problems in connection with optics, armament, armour, power plant, transmission, suspensions and tracks. Also an eye was kept on the Swedish M 21 tank, manufactured by Bofors, who had an arrangement with Krupps. The M 21 was a derivative of the German LKII which had been copied in 1918 from the British Whippet. It was out of date - but at least it was German. Encouraged by Tschischwitz and Lutz 29,and kept firmly on the ground by Fetter, Guderian approached motorisation with inventive zeal. The constructively critical faculties of his mind, which, up to now, had merely been called upon to modify matters of daily routine in work conditioned by the stress of war and civil strife, were highly responsive to brand-new concepts.30 War had left him physically unscathed and mentally uninhibited by paralysing experiences of trench warfare. Never had he been wounded, rarely infected by personal involvement with the cramping fears of the circumscribed tactical routines of the trenches. Hence he could scan the future prospects of warfare with an outlook that was untrammelled by indelibly inflexible impressions. He began to envisage himself as a repository for information from which he developed new combat ideas that encroached upon a largely unexplored operational field. The age of thirty-five was perhaps a little late to find original inspirations, but he could hardly have been expected to initiate original schemes before since the war had precluded an opportunity. Be that as it may, he now recognised, with mounting and excited perception, the deficiencies of the current ways of making war and, more important, means to make a fundamental change. As he read more deeply into his subject there began to appear profound conclusions drawn from his study of ancient and contemporary history. This led to the pursuit of a pastime which used to absorb the old Prussian General Staff - prodigious writing in military journals. Encouraged by General von Altrock, the Editor of the Militar-Wochenblatt (Military Weekly) he composed articles (some of them anonymous?) which crystalised his thoughts and his style and, at the same time, won him a reputation for clear exposition on controversial matters of immediate interest in the contemporary debate surrounding the reasons for Germany losing the last war. But it also won him enemies, for at this early stage the tank enthusiasts proposed converting the cavalry to mechanised divisions. There were German generals too, among them von Kuhl, who were saying that the tank had won the war for the Allies and that lack of the tank had been crucial in Germany's failure-an exaggeration that was sufficiently emotive to discourage serious denial. Essentially Guderian opened his own mind to the future. Giinther Blumentritt was to remark: 'If you suggest revolutionary ideas to Guderian he will say, in 95 per cent of cases, yes, at once'. But that too was an exaggeration. In exercises which had taken place in the winter of 1923/24 with motorised troops under Oberstleutnant Walter von Brauchitsch, the examination of mechanisation had gone further than the earlier Harz exercises in that, in addition to march discipline, command and control, they investigated close co-operation with aircraft. As time went by, before and after theoretical exercises such as these, Hauptmann Guderian would be invited to give the tank expert's opinion - a quite essential requirement demanding of imaginative description since German experience was mostly at the receiving end from these machines. Always his precise and convincing explanations, interlaced with witty historical precedents and skilfully angled arguments, made a strong impact upon the audience. He developed into a star turn equipped with keen analysis an.d bubbling enthusiasm. Once more career prospects were moving ahead: in 1924 it was suggested that he should be employed as an instructor in tactics and military history - a shrewd placing of a man who had worked himself out of the pit into which he had fallen. Moreover his new master was to be an old commander, von Tschischwitz,. whose open-mindedness guaranteed Guderian ample room for the expansion of ideas. Prior to 1914, von Schlieffen had sought historical precedents to substantiate the basis of his military theory of attack. Of him Guderian once wrote that he was clever, cold and sarcastic, a general who '. . . through clarity and firmness in military planning . . . sought to compensate for the aimlessness and indecisiveness of politicians'. Guderian also searched for precedents to justi42/258
fy the creation of a new theory of attack, one which could swiftly overcome the barriers erected by current defensive practices. But it was revealing that, as a supreme optimist, he took to examining examples of failure in history in order to justify his arguments for change, whereas Schlieffen had pinned his hopes on successes, on the Prussian victory at Leuthen and, later, on Hannibal's masterpiece at Cannae as illustrating how a battle could be won by total envelopment - forgetting to mention that neither of these victories had actually decided a war. Guderian looked to defeats for enlightenment and enlivened his lectures and papers with remarks and quotations which were more sardonic than sarcastic, with a delivery that was as direct as it was pointed. Standing in front of a class, eyes sparkling with enthusiasm, and using the minimum of demonstrative posturing, he would drive home each point by sheer force of dedication and knowledge. In the manner of all good teachers he found that the impulse to communicate was itself a wonderful stimulant to original thought. In his case the need for excellence was pitched above that of his normal high standards by the obligation to overcome the scepticism of highly critical students - the pick of the Reichswehr - to what amounted, in some minds, to outlandish concepts. Present these well-informed officers with a weak argument and they would rend the lecturer. Convince them and he had recruited disciples.
At the centre of his programme was a theme - that of Stosskraft - dynamic punch - and its bearing upon the weapons of the past and the present. Of the disastrous Prussian campaign against Napoleon in 1806 he would ask, apropos the present, 'Do we make the same mistake as they did "to proudly meet the enemy without firing a shot since to take aim with a volley might upset the battalions' upright bearing" : in other words do we fail to take cover from enemy fire?' He would jeer at the bayonet:' One is still regarded as a heretic if one dares impune that sacred symbol of infantry Stosskraft', and called Moltke the Elder to his aid, quoting the Master's dictum, 'Fire 43/258
must be used against the enemy during an offensive in order to weaken him before a bayonet fight ensues'. Caustically he quoted again:'. . . the day of honour at Hagelberg in 1813 when a celebrated bayonet charge cost the enemy all of 30 to 35 dead'. This was his destructive phase prior to the moment of construction. For he would then go on to demonstrate how Stosskraft was subject to technological change. In 1914 it lay with fire-power,'. . . that is to say in the infantry's machine-gun and with other heavy weapons, but largely with the divisional artillery. If the Stosskraft was sufficiently strong then the offensive succeeded as it did in the East, in Rumania, in Serbia and Italy. If it was weak, as on the Western Front, it failed . . . The World War proved that Stosskraft does not depend upon fire-power alone . . . Guns must be brought close to the enemy lines ... so that pin-point targets can be recognised at close range and then annihilated by direct fire'. The cavalry sword he would dismiss with a flourish similar to that with which he disposed of the bayonet: 'Even the celebrated attacks by the Bayreuth Dragoons at Hohenfriedberg and by Seydlitz's cavalry at Rossbach were made against infantry who were already shattered. Attacks against fresh infantry were not decisive, as the Battle of Zorndorf confirms.' 31 From this starting point he could begin his examination of means of 'bringing fire on to the enemy lines' during fast monoeuvres. 'Here', he said, 'only the restoration of an ancient means could help - armour. Armour has fallen out of favour not because it could not be made thick enough to offer protection against rifle shots, but because neither man nor horse has strength enough to carry or move it'. At this moment he could announce the advent and the case for the tank and declaim: 'What then is Stosskraft It is the force which enables the soldier in combat to bring his weapons close enough to the enemy lines in order to destroy him. Only troops with this integral capacity have Stosskraft and with it the capacity to attack. We are not unreasonable when we maintain, as the result of our war experiences, that of all land forces the tank possesses most Stosskraft.' And at this point, as time went by and his convictions hardened, the teaching of history gave way to the dissemination of tank propaganda at which he became expert.
These were halcyon days in that there was ample time for calm and thorough consideration of problems which, in the foreseeable future, could have no immediate effect upon an army which thought deeply but, in outward form, hardly changed at all. Guderian kept himself thoroughly informed of the latest moves by the Inspectorate of Transport Troops as it took an increasingly active part in the co-operation with Russia and placed the first orders in 1926 for the Leichter Traktor, mentioned above. It was ironic, in fact, that as these small but significant movements 44/258
took place in the direction of an eventual rearmament, Western Europe entered the zone of a tranquillity such as had been unknown for more than two decades. In 1925 the Locarno Treaty was signed and introduced a brief epoch of mutual security between nations and the gradual rehabilitation of Germany: the admittance of Germany into the League of Nations in 1926 and the withdrawal in 1927 of the Control Commission led to the final removal of Allied troops in 1930. On the other hand, when strong moves towards a Disarmament Conference were in train, it was the British who first assembled an experimental armoured force in 1927. And so, by default, when politicians steered hard for peace, a simultaneous tack was taken in the direction of war by military demonstrations aimed at showing how a short, decisive campaign could be implemented. In Russia they were assimilating fast and furiously everything that the Germans, and anybody else, could teach them; it is probable that they benefited far more from Rapallo than did the Germans. In January 1927 Guderian was at last promoted Major in a small Army where circumstances naturally retarded ambition, and in October 1927 his academic work was curtailed by a posting which sent him to the Truppenamt and therefore, for all practical purposes (despite the Versailles Treaty), back to the General Staff. There he was assigned to the Transport Section, which belonged to the Operations Department, where his task was, ostensibly, the further development of troop transportation by lorry. It was another shrewd and logical selection for a man who been converted into what is to-day called a Technical Staff officer, inviting him to perform a task which involved both technological and operational subjects. It did not matter that he was not an engineer or particularly mechanically trained.'His technical awareness was what counted and produced an individual who was of the greatest rarity in almost every army of the day. Change was in the air: his arrival in the Truppenamt practically coincided with that of its new head, Generaloberst Werner von Blomberg, whose destiny would soon be linked with German revolution of another kind. For Guderian a terrific challenge awaited. The Truppenamt, prompted originally by Seeckt with his insistence upon cavalry and infantry aided by motor transport, tended to look upon road transport services as an extension, albeit a more flexible one, of the railway. They seemed to postulate that what already went by rail in future should also go by road to satisfy existing organisations and methods. They rather overlooked the obvious defect that Europe's railways were much more highly developed than her highways and were quite unprepared to admit that the composition of fighting formations would greatly alter in the future. Hence they demanded that lorried transport must be capable of carrying the same loads in the same manner as railways, and those loads would consist of everything a cavalry or an infantry division possessed - equipment, men and horses. In so many words they were trying to use lorries as taxis in order to preserve the status quo without admitting, as Guderian insisted they must, that past concepts were out of date and demanding of total reconstruction. He says that there were many heated discussions and more sceptics than believers in the possibility of finding a workable solution. The days of tranquillity were past, in fact. In stating his opposition to the unworkable and to concepts which were the antithesis of what he reasoned as essential, he nailed his colours to the mast and embarked upon the course which was to change history. At about the same time as liaison with Russia commenced, the training of a new staff was demanded. The Transport Department set up its own small school to instruct officers, civilian employees and noncommissioned officers in automotive mechanics. In 1928 it was decided to add a tactical wing to study and teach the employment of tanks and their co-operation with other arms - and who better to found that wing than Guderian. But in the autumn of 1928, when the suggestion was approved, he had to admit that as yet he had not even seen the inside of a tank. This was soon rectified. In 1929 he went with Gretel to Sweden via Denmark, an occasion which prompted him, in Panzer Leader, to give a rare insight into his abiding delight in beautiful things - the countryside and the Scandinavian cities - the sort of pleasure which used to pass soldiers like Schlieffen and Erwin Rommel 32 by. As the guest of a Swedish tank battalion equipped with the M 21 tank of German origination, he drove the machine, assessed its performance (judging its limitations and vulnerabilities) and witnessed small exercises in which the tanks cooperated with other arms and made attacks under cover of smoke screens. The M 21 was a poor 45/258
machine but the experience it gave Guderian marked another turning point in his career. Perhaps he rather over-dramatises his conclusions when he says that it was in 1929 he became convinced 'that tanks working on their own or in conjunction with infantry could never achieve decisive importance', for his early lectures and studies at no time give the impression of a belief that tanks in isolation could prosper. But that year he devised and consolidated a scenario for all future conflict - presenting it both in the councils of the General Staff and on the training grounds. In the summer of 1929, he ran a divisional-sized field exercise that incorporated a battlegroup of all arms such as an armoured division could deploy - a copy, in fact, of the earlier British experiment such as the Americans and Russians were trying at the same time.
The concept of the armoured division, a formation comprising a balanced force of tanks, armoured cars, motorised infantry, artillery and engineers, was by no means a German invention. The idea had long ago been suggested by British and French protagonists of the tank who saw it as the dominant weapon. It had been discussed in public and was often mentioned in the quite large number of books about tanks then beginning to appear. Indeed, so profuse were the writings on tank warfare that the problem facing the Motor Transport Inspectorate was one of selection before making any recommendations. The Russians were tending towards independent tank formations which could be used in the traditional strategic role of cavalry. The French saw the tank as a strictly infantry support weapon, moving at the speed of marching men, and looked on armoured cars as the seekers of information in the old cavalry role. The British quite notice46/258
ably tended towards balanced armoured forces, as their experiments in 1927 had plainly shown, but also were attracted by armoured cars for reconnaissance and heavily armoured tanks for infantry support. Economically the Germans could afford to adopt only one system. Though Seeckt had been succeeded as Commander-in-Chief in 1926 by Generaloberst Wilhelm Heye (a milder disciple of Seeckt), Seeckt's authority still held sway: 'The smaller the army, the easier it will be to equip it with modern weapons'. And although Seeckt wrote in 1930 that he could not imagine '. . . armoured engines and the horseman entirely superseded by the motor soldier' the drift of his thoughts ran mighty close to those of Guderian when he added, 'No longer, like Frederick at the end of the day, will we hurl our jingling squadrons upon the tottering foe. The modern Seydlitz will lead his well-nursed troops with their mobile artillery behind the flank and rear of the enemy in order to join with the advancing infantry and other units in securing the final decision.' This, though it excluded the provocative work 'tank', was the essence distilled of Fuller and Guderian. Fuller's concepts rode the Germans hard. In 1936 Guderian could sincerely acknowledge in public that it was decided to rely mainly on English observations as contained in Part (Vol) 2 of the 'Provisional Instructions for Tank and Armoured Car Training', published in 1927. This document bore the imprint of Fuller and included the conclusions drawn from experience in the First World War plus that gathered in three years' experiments with the latest tanks. It was obtainable, price 9d, from His Majesty's Stationery Office. In due course would appear 'Mechanized and Armoured Formations, 1929' and 'Modern Formations, 1931' which were Security-graded documents, 'not to be communicated either directly or indirectly to the Press or to any person not holding an official position in His Majesty's Service'. Nevertheless they each found their way into unauthorised hands, including those of the Germans. The 1927 book, according to Guderian, contained '. . . the essential basic rules . . . clearly expressed ... so that trials could be started, but at the same time it gave the necessary flexibility for further development. This was not the case with the well-known contemporary French manual which seemed to hinder all development by the inflexible binding of tanks to infantry. The recommendation to use the English manual was approved by Reichswehr Headquarters. It remained the basis for the indoctrination of the officers of the motorised troops destined for the future tank arm until 1933.' The 'tank' exercises of 1929, deficient in realism though they were because of the absence of real tanks, taught false lessons but heightened the faith of the enthusiasts. Small motor cars, decked out with canvas and sheet iron to look like tanks, made a poor enough impression. Their inability to cross anything other than the smoothest of hard going and their propensity to look silly when the infantry poked their bayonets throught the canvas and made derogatory remarks to the humiliated crews, placed demands upon the pioneers. Coherent lessons were difficult to assimilate but fortunately Guderian had the optimism, determination and imagination to satisfy all demands and to carry his colleagues with him. 'In spite of these shortcomings', he wrote, 'the idea gained ground that it was essential to have a Panzer Command. Those engaged in the tests obtained a clear knowledge of its future employment and organisation. The tests eventually resulted in demands for the development of the weapon'. That year secret orders went out for the building of Grosstrak-tor, the heavier tank with its bigger gun. Lutz, who became Inspector of Motor Transport in 1931, was carried along by Guderian. Brilliant organiser and clear thinker though he was, he was only a partner - in terms of achievement the junior partner - in a team. Major Chales de Beaulieu, who was on Guderian's staff between 1931 and 1933 and again between 1935 and 1937, says: 'Guderian was the brains behind it all and thought about everything in advance which could be important or necessary - in personnel, equipment and in leadership ... he was an ideal leader'. Lutz provided the authority and tact to help push through Guderian's schemes in the higher councils. He also placed Guderian in the right appointments at the right time. In January 1930 he sent him to command 3rd (Prussian) Motor Transport Battalion (no doubt at Guderian's suggestion) and obtained as its equipment all the elements of a future armoured division less field artillery. There was a company of dummy tanks and an anti-tank company with wooden guns - in fact only the armoured cars of the Reconnaissance Company and the motor-cycles in No. 4 Company were real. There was also another vital piece of equipment missing - the modern communication sets which alone would 47/258
make the panzer division, as envisaged by Guderian, a viable proposition. When Colonel Ernest Swinton wrote the first tactical directive for British tanks in 1916 he tackled the communication problem by suggesting that 'One tank in ten should be equipped with small wireless sets, others to lay telephone cable as they advanced, while the rest make do with visual signals and smoke rockets to indicate progress'. At that time, of course, there were no suitable small wireless sets while cable-laying was both frail and an inflexible method related only to short advances. Anybody who has attempted visual signalling from the top of a tank will testify what a thoroughly unsatisfactory system it can be, while the few who have tried it in action, and survived when every weapon in sight is throwing missiles, are most unlikely to repeat the experience. A few tanks were equipped with radio and used it in action before the end of the First World War, but they became specialised vehicles because they could not send or receive messages satisfactorily on the move. They were usually employed as reporting centres only.
Progress in the improvement of radio communications during the 1920s was rapid and the Germans were well up with everybody else, particularly since, in this corner of the military field; the Versailles Treaty did not impose severe restrictions and was far easier to circumvent. In any case enormous strides had already been made in radio transmission and reception during the First World War, and these were further exploited for police and commercial use afterwards. Speech over the air was becoming as common a means of communication as morse, and far less liable to interference when inventors shifted their investigations into the higher frequency ranges. Sets gradually became more robust, smaller and easier to tune, especially when the airmen placed a premium on such things in the interests of reductions in weight. The power of transmitters was steadily increased along with range of operation; the discovery of crystal-controlled master oscil48/258
lators in the early 1920s opened a new era of accuracy in establishing radio networks. In 1931 the first demonstration ever of a tank formation being controlled on the move from a single master control tank was made in England. The sets in use were crystal-controlled. If the Germans were further behind at that time they were, however, more seriously committed to the acquisition of comprehensive tank radio networks - largely because of Guderian's insistence. His experience in 1914 left him in no doubt that if highly fluid long-range operations were to be conducted with coordinated zeal, radio communication had to be accurate, concise and widespread from the pinnacles of command down to the lowest possible level. Just how low would depend upon the kind of sets which could be built and on the amount of money made available for their purchase. At first Guderian and his collaborators asked that radio communication should reach as far as the headquarters of tank companies, though they knew that the British had gone lower still to troop headquarters and, in some cases, to individual tanks. Walther Nehring, who was one of Guderian's principal staff officers for many years, told the author that from the outset it was realised that, without a comprehensive communication network, the concept of high mobility and deep penetration by panzer divisions was unthinkable. De Beaulieu adds that 'the early use of the wireless for command in battle to the single tank was due to Guderian's insistence . . . He had an eye for the essential and at the same time ... he was also able to judge when to press for his goal - which is a vital characteristic. Few people know how to recognise the moment.' Comparatively speaking, as much effort was put into the development of communications as into the fighting vehicles themselves and the signallers took up the challenge with fervour. In fact the Germans had taken a lead in communications during the First World War and had recognised the problems, though they also had the sense to realise, in 1926, that then-latest sets were totally inadequate, notably those developed for civilian purposes. Work began on designing a new range of sets which were small, 'undamped' and thoroughly reliable in vehicles on the move. But the dangers of enemy intercept overhearing radio messages and breaking the codes - even those manufactured by machines - also concentrated attention upon the evolution of field telephone and teleprinter networks which could be laid down at such high speed that a pace of 100 miles a day could be kept with an advancing formation. Those units which were compelled by circumstances to use radio alone were warned that their security was almost sure to be penetrated, regardless of codes and disguised speech, and that, therefore, only plans which were to be implemented within a short time, could be mentioned over the air. In parallel extensive monitoring services were created to 'listen in' to the enemy, and so acquire information at all leyels of his deployment; for these Guderian was to find another use in moments of desperation. Within these circumscriptions, intensive trials were launched by the German enthusiasts of fast operations. The all-important trials unit was 3rd (Prussian) Motor Transport Battalion with its 'latest', if dubious, equipment. Every phase of warlike operation was practised - attack, defence, withdrawal, flank attack, direct attack with infantry and cavalry, co-operation with artillery and aircraft. As Heinz-Werner Frank (a Leutnant at that time in the battalion), puts it: 'We almost became fanatics in advertising motorisation and building the Panzerwaffe 33, enthusiastic followers of Guderian with his passionate powers of persuasion'. But followers they were fully intended to be by the Oberst, as he made clear to them one day after ski training. The young officers had over-enthusiastically overtaken their commander, though nothing was said until that evening. Then, with a twinkle over drinks, Guderian casually remarked: 'In the tank force the commander leads from the front - not from behind!' From the exercises grew, in 1931, the list of essential requirements for the sort of independent Panzer Command which Lutz and Guderian deemed necessary. But resistance to their progress was now appearing since these requirements impinged upon the traditional roles of the cavalry and infantry while financial and manpower restrictions at a time of international economic crisis dictated that, in exchange for something new, something old had to be discarded. The cavalry was the first to suffer inroads from the new and, to their mind, upstart supply troops who were trying to steal a slice of the operational cake - but at a disadvantage since both memory and the Reichsarchiv history told against them, while Guderian's proposals were difficult to refute. In 1932, faced with the question of how they envisaged their future employment, the cavalry opted for the solitary role which seemed viable in the light of recent history - that of a 49/258
'heavy' force to apply the coup de grace after the other arms had made the opportunity. Unwillingly, and in an atmosphere of mounting jealousy, they surrendered to the Motorised Troops the role of reconnaissance at which they had invariably failed in the past. Concessions by the cavalry were, of course, of minor importance when set alongside the much greater shift that was taking place in world and German political and economic evolution. Events conspired to bring about a crisis. An influx of foreign money, which had previously poured into Germany, dried up as a world trade recession turned' into the Economic Blizzard. As unemployment rose to almost unprecedented levels the opportunity seemed ripe for the extremist elements in German political life to make their bid for power. Communists vied with Nazis in a succession of elections. The Government reeled and was perpetually in danger of collapse while assassins raised the score of their victims with every month that passed. By 1932, when the Army was contentedly maintaining its separation from politics and was bent upon increasing its size and strength, the followers of Adolf Hitler, the NSDAP34 , were on the verge of taking over the Government by the nearest thing to constitutional means that violence could countenance. From these things Guderian tried to stay apart. There was frequent irritation of the scar on his memory from the events of 1919: many of the Nazis and members of the Sturm A bteilung had been of the Freikorps, and he had several friends in the Nazi Party. Unlike so many of his colleagues he was not divorced from contact with the outside world, but watched and waited in the hope that the Reichswehr's part would be decisive in obtaining the 'right solution' for Germany as once it had done under Seeckt. While Hindenburg was Reichspresident Guderian was content.
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He made no complaint when, in 1927, Heye, the new C-in-C, refused to allow Nazis into the army or, in 1930, when Generaloberst Freiherr Kurt von Hammerstein (Heye's successor) began to express strong anti-Nazi sentiments. As a junior officer he was not only remote from the thoughts of the C-in-C, but saw little reason at that moment to imagine that the Nazis might come to power or that Hitler could be the strong man - desirable or otherwise-of the future. But in 1930 a fresh influence began to make itself positively felt through the activities of the head of the Truppenamt, General Werner von Blomberg. Blomberg had visited Russia in 1928 in connection with the various collaboration projects and became impressed by the priority received by her army compared with the status of Germany's: he later remarked,' I was not far short of coming home a complete Bolshevist!' But in 1930 he fell under the spell of Hitler - one of Communism's staunchest enemies - because he seemed a likely candidate as the man to strengthen the Reichswehr. Already Hitler was demonstrating his magnetic persuasive ability to be all things to all men in his search for personal power; as yet hardly anybody recognised him as an evil force because only those in the very closest contact had the remotest chance of doing so. But he knew that the generals were resolved to re-establish the Army not only as a force which could defend Germany's frontiers - notably those in the east - but also as a stabilising factor in the country. So he announced his support for the Army and its aspirations. And as for Blomberg? He felt, as the economic crisis deepened and unemployment increased, that a unification of all the political parties alone would save the nation. He was prepared to utilise nationalist elements in support of that aim and, if that failed, the strongest party. Nevertheless it has to be said that many generals criticised him for his choice of agency if not his selection of aim. 35 Guderian, rather like Blomberg, was enigmatic in his political association with the Nazis and Hitler - though he does seem to have kept the party and its leaders separate in consideration. A Royalist at heart, he treasured past associations with the House of Hohenzollern: had he not served the Crown Prince in 1916 as a Staff Officer? But he realised that there was no point in a return of the Monarchy and was at one with the people in their disenchantment with the governments which succeeded each other at all too frequent intervals. These, in his own words,"... were unable to win over the officers or arouse any enthusiasm for the Republic's ideals.' Vehemently he abhorred the Communists and consistently he hoped for the emergence of a Bismarckian figure. But not so all the officers, for as Guderian wrote in 1947: 'When National Socialism entered the scene with its new national slogans, the young officers especially were quickly roused to enthusiasm by the patriotic ideas which the National Socialist German Labour Party (NSDAP) propaganda held out to them. For years the entirely inadequate armament of the Reich had weighed on the officer corps like a nightmare. No wonder that the initiation of a rearmament programme won them over to the man who promised to put new life into the Wehrmacht after fifteen years of stagnation.' 36 Nobody at that time had the faintest idea of what was in store. The Nazis were but part of a scene of rising disorder and fear. At first Guderian argued against the claims of the Nazis with those of his junior officers who took their part. Like so many of his generation he venerated Hindenburg, writing upon the President's death in 1934, 'He possessed the trust of the world'. And like so many officers in 1932, he too was angry with the tone of Hitler's campaign. He and they would have been appalled had they known that, in December, Hitler considered impeaching Hindenburg, and further disturbed if they had understood Hitler's pathological inferiority complex when dealing with the General Staff. After all, at that moment Hitler was going out of his way to placate the General Staff by giving public praise to the Army! Six million unemployed and a rising threat by Communists at the polls could not be set lightly aside, however. A desperate situation demanded draconian measures or a scapegoat. Men like Guderian thought that somebody like Hitler could provide the necessary rule of iron and still be kept under control of the Army. The last soldier Chancellor, the arch-intriguer Kurt von Schleicher, over-played his hand and Hitler became Chancellor in his place on 30th January 1933. A few hours later Hindenburg selected von Blomberg as Minister of Defence and Blomberg in his turn picked one of the most able generals to lead the Ministeramt (the office with the task of co-ordinating all defence matters - land, sea and air and which, in due course, became 51/258
the Wehrmachtamt), Generalleutnant Walter von Reichenau. The elevation of these men, each a Nazi sympathiser, met with Guderian's approval. Of Blomberg he thought well and Reichenau he regarded as 'a modern soldier', though one who was 'very political'. Two things they had in common: that the Reichswehr should co-operate with the most patriotic elements and that the tank arm benefit from encouragement, especially from Reichenau who constantly sought outlets for new ideas. The political stance adopted by Guderian at this moment of political fermentation was of ambivalence, contrived to satisfy what he considered best for Germany and the Army. He retained a tacit belief in Seeckt's principle of non-political involvement, gave approval to generals such as Seeckt, Schleicher, Blomberg and Reichenau (who were knee deep in politics) because they seemed to have the Army's best interests at heart by striving might and main for expansion; kept contact (as did many Army officers) with old Freikorps friends such as Adolf Hiihnlein who was a member of the Sturm Abteilung High Command, and, as time went by, managed, in his mind, to segregate Hitler from the other members of the Nazi Party. He seems not to have reacted one way or the other when Schleicher put an ineffectual ban on the SA in 1932. In 1933, however, Guderian was a mere Oberstleutnant who, like the vast majority of army officers, had not the slightest personal contact with Hitler. How could they know the secrets of this man when even the closest of his party colleagues were denied his innermost thoughts? And they were certainly not privy to the councils of the Army hierarchy. Yet the development of Guderian's feelings towards Hitler are important and brought to light by his wife's letters, which also reflect Goerne sentiments. The Goernes (Gretefs family) were not in the least pro-Nazi, as snatches from their letters show, and yet Gretel leaves no doubt about their convictions concerning Hitler. On 23rd March 1933, after Hitler had been granted dictatorial powers, she described to her mother her exaltation '. . . after all the hideous mess of the past years we get at last a feeling of awe and greatness'. Also she extolled his '. . . beautiful way of speaking, his iron will, his energy and good words for the Army'. It could hardly have been said better by an enthusiast for Bismarck. And next day her father wrote to say how fine it was that the new government had tidied things up: 'All will be achieved without wounds'. A year later, on 3rd June 1934, Gretel still sang songs of high pitched praise to her mother in tune with the majority of the people: 'I am so glad that Heinz has written to you enthusiastically about Hitler. Everybody who gets to know him is very impressed by his personality. Above all his eyes and look send a special message to the heart... I do not think we will find a more courageous and better leader'. Of course by then Guderian was aware that Hitler would help him in the task of building a Panzer Command and so his enthusiasm may have been conditioned by ambition and hope. In 1945 he was to write:'. . . policy was not shaped by soldiers but by politicians and the Army had to accept the political and military situation as it existed' - adding rather typically but nevertheless in confirmation of his distaste for all party men: 'This was unfortunate because politicians rarely expose themselves to the hazards of war, usually remaining safely at home.' But Germany then lay in ruins. It is easy to criticise the Germans in hindsight and to forget that Fascist parties throughout the world at that time of desperation contained a proportion of highly respected and distinguished people - nearly all of whom were fooled by Hitler. With the economic crisis at its height Germany happened to acquire as her saviour an unscrupulous dictator. The French remained in disarray, the British formed a so-called National Government and the Americans accorded President Roosevelt unprecedented powers to dictate. In the final analysis it was a rearmament programme which raised each Western nation out of the economic depths. Not long after France had been broken in 1940, Britain was hanging on by a thread under the dictatorship of Churchill, and the Americans were on the way back to prosperity in war having used their Constitution to good effect to curb, but not destroy, the power of Roosevelt. Guderian spoke for others as well as himself when he wrote of this period:' Literary output did not reach pre-World War I quality because of the Army's rapid expansion which occupied the General Staff to such an extent as to leave no time for unofficial writing'. Absorbed by ambition and the feeling of urgent need in strengthening the Reichswehr for defence, in particular, of the 52/258
eastern frontiers, the senior members of the German Army became fascinated by its task and allowed evil men to take over before they appreciated the implications. With the Army on his side and neutralised as a political force, Hitler had nothing to fear from the intellectuals and industrialists while the people gave thanks as more jobs were created.
The Creation of the Panzertruppe When stupendous events in the clash of revolutionary causes overshadow the diplomatic and political scene and attract the full glare of publicity it is often symptomatic, if not endemic, that trivial changes of great importance also take place - though often unnoticed. Alongside the vivid display of Hitler's initial struggle for supremacy in Germany, with its heavy overtones of racial prejudice, the withdrawal of Germany from the League of Nations and the Disarmament Conference in October 1933; the slaughter of dissident elements such as von Schleicher and a few recalcitrant Sturm Abteilung leaders on June 30th 1934; the murder by Nazis of the Austrian Chancellor in July 1934, and the disclosure of the existence of the Luftwaffe in March 1935 (only a few days before the announcement of conscription and the reconstitution of the General Staff), significant though less discernible shifts in power and actuation were also taking place. For example the diminution of Sturm Abteilung power left room for Heinrich Himmler's Schutz Staffeln (SS) to become the strong arm of Nazi power, and the SS was already engaged upon creating its own military wing - the Waffen SS - with enormous import for the future. Simultaneously the power of the Army was being reduced by Blomberg and Reichenau in their endeavours to create a central defence organisation - what was to become the Wehrmacht - of which the Army, Navy and Air Force were intended to be subordinate parts, answerable to a new central staff. Hitlej was giving covert signs of hostility to the Army but so also were some Army officers from within the organisation. Thus the movement by Lutz, a mere Generalleutnant, and his Chief of Staff, Guderian (promoted Oberst on 1st April 1930), to form a new Command (an army within the Army, as some suggested it might be since it incorporated elements of each existing arm) was only a minor movement within one great revolution, though possibly more likely to prosper since so much attention which might have been hostile was deflected elsewhere. While their main opponents in the High Command were preoccupied, Lutz and Guderian could initially debate in relative obscurity and gain advantages by rational arguments in committee. 37 But hope and temporary advantages were not enough for Guderian. He needed immediate and positive support from the highest level. Blonmberg, as Minister for War, was sympathetic but too remote within the military structure. It was significant that Guderian felt that Hitler was more accessible, or so he implied when, in Panzer Leader, he wrote:' I was convinced that the head of the government would approve my proposals for the organisation of an up-to-date Wehrmacht if only I could manage to lay my views before him.' The remark was prompted by Hitler's first inspection of new equipment at Kummersdorf early in 1934 at which Guderian, for half an hour, had been allowed to demonstrate the basic elements of a panzer division - a motorcycle platoon, an anti-tank platoon, a platoon of the first experimental light tanks (Pz I founded on a Vickers' design and disguised under the name of 'Agricultural Tractor') and some reconnaissance cars; it revealed Guderian's widesweeping concept of a totally restructured defence force in which a unified Panzer Command was the dominant equal of the Infantry and the Artillery. At the same time the oft-quoted remark of the time by Hitler, 'That's what I need! That's what I want to have', may have been misleading in that he did not necessarily say 'why' or in what quantity he wanted a panzer force. Standing beside him that day was Hermann Goring who was vested with enormous powers as a Minister and was in the course of setting up the Luftwaffe upon which first priority of expenditure and effort was to be conferred. Although at Kummersdorf Hitler saw something recognisably modern, fast and sensational such as would generate prestige, he said nothing to suggest that he received a vision of revolutionary land warfare. More likely he visualised a force which would add drama to the threats supporting his display of power politics/As a result the panzer force was not accorded any special priority and Guderian was left to fight as hard as ever for recognition. Overriding every major consideration in connection with Army expansion - a target of 36 divisions was set by Hitler early in 1934 and revealed to the world in 1935 - was the desire to build a 53/258
force which was capable of defending Germany's frontiers. The occupation of the Ruhr by the French in 1923 - unopposed because the means of opposition were virtually non-existent - posed a persistent fear of invasion from the west which was second only to the fear of a threat by the newly created states of Poland and Czechoslovakia which, since their inception in 1918, had repeatedly preyed upon their neighbours - Poland more than Czechoslovakia. There is no evidence to show that the General Staff contemplated offensive operations either before or during the opening stages of rearmament - for practical reasons if no other: they simply could not be ready with a properly constituted force until 1943 because neither financial nor industrial capacity were equal to the task. These constrictions, allied to the dread of another financial inflation if progress went ahead too quickly, overrode the launching of each project in a costly process. Economy had to be the watchword in erecting defences. Offensive weapons were last on the list. In 1936 in the pages oiAchtung! Panzer! Guderian gave what undoubtedly were his true beliefs, to the effect that Germany could only afford to wage a short war in the hope that it would be brought to a tolerable conclusion before she was crippled. These were not the beliefs of a man who was hungry for war.
Guderian's initial concept for the panzer division, as stated in Achtung! Panzer!, was primarily as a weapon of defence; an attack on the French he considered to be hopeless. He feared the threat from the east far more and therefore strove for a highly mobile force which could knock out the Poles and Czechs, should the need arise, while delaying the French in the west. It was with defensively orientated offensive operations that he experimented throughout 1933 in exercises which, as he said, '. . . did much to clarify the relationship between various weapons and served to strengthen me in my convictions that tanks would be able to play their full part within
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the framework of a modern army when they were treated as that army's principal weapon and were supplied with fully motorised supporting arms'. These supporting arms, he insisted, 'were to be permanently attached'.
The task of the proposed panzer divisions which, to the mind of Guderian, ought to become the pivot around which the rest of the Army revolved, was defined in a news-sheet disseminated at the end of 1933: '. . . the widespread attack against enemy flank and rear - separated from other slower units; but it can also achieve considerable success in a breakthrough on the front. When used in pursuit it can throw a fleeing enemy into confusion. On the other hand it is less well equipped to hold captured territory; for this purpose it is usually necessary to employ motorised infantry and artillery. The manner of its engagement is not in prolonged battles but short, welltimed operations launched by brief orders. The principle is to use the battle tanks at the core of the operations, to concentrate the main fighting force at the decisive point of action ... on the principle of surprise in order to avoid or avert enemy defensive action.' Never was the course of progress steady or mellowed by sweet accord, and frequently Guderian was compelled to draw heavily upon his inherent optimism. Alas! His tolerance was not always equal to the task and a tendency to irascibility when under stress became more pronounced. Those among his contemporaries who said he was a 'bull' overlooked the frustrations placed in his way and had ceased themselves to pursue the old Prussian tradition of 'absolute frankness, even towards the King'. There are many who recall, with pleasure, his willingness to hear their case with patience and understanding. As he became absorbed by the pilgrimage of innovation, the time left for introspection got scarcer, yet something in him sounded a warning note on 2nd August 1934 on the eve of taking the oath of allegiance to Hitler instead of to the Constitution. To Gretel he wrote: 'Pray God that 55/258
both sides may abide by it equally for the welfare of Germany. The Army is accustomed to keeping its oaths. May the Army, in honour, be able to do so this time'. Gretel took up the theme on the 19th to her mother: 'Over the radio I have just heard the ovation for Hitler . . . We need unity more than ever, it is our only strength abroad . . . Hitler's faith in his mission for Germany and the faith of the people in him are practically miracles. But sometimes one can become a little afraid about excessive elevation.' These were the first signs of trepidation that events were shaping a dangerous course, but they hardly ruffled the surface of satisfaction with a Fuhrer whose guidance was unchallenged. Guderian looked.to the Fuhrer for salvation. As a reasonably pious member of the United Lutheran Church he did not often attend its services, for in religion too, according to his son, he was constantly seeking new ideas. Indeed, as the pressures grew heavier at work he seems to have cultivated a grimly intensive self-sufficiency in his assault upon obstacles thrown in his way. Frustrations there were in plenty. In 1933 acute national financial stringency led to the curtailment, for the last time under Hitler, as it happened, of the major Army manoeuvres. Also Hitler cancelled the arrangements for mutual training and development with the Russians, with the result that fruitful courses had to be ended before the new training establishments at Wunsdorf and Putlos in Germany were working fully. Moreover Lutz had to undertake some delicate negotiations with the Russians in recovering equipment left stranded at the Kama River site. On the other hand Hammerstein-Equord was replaced as C-in-C by Fritsch 38, Guderian's old superior officer at Bartenstein. This was a blow to the few who already were trying to resist Hitler, for it has been suggested that Hammerstein, lazy though he was, had the ability, integrity and powers of decision which at any time might have been turned to ejecting the Fuhrer before he became too well entrenched. Be that as it may, Guderian welcomed Fritsch's appointment, rating him a thoroughly sound soldier, who had'. . . devoted a period of detached service to the study of the panzer division'. Between them was a close affinity, although it must be realised that neither were part of a circle of close friends - except for the life-long friendships made in the earliest days with their regiments. In years to come the Nazi hierarchy would make use of Guderian but it must not be forgotten that, in seeking support for his schemes, Guderian also made use of them. Allies being short within the Army he gathered help wherever it could be found and the head of the National Socialist Motor Corps (the NSKK) a paramilitary organisation under Adolf Huhnlein of the SA, was of fruitful importance. In Panzer Leader Guderian merely credits Hiihnlein (whom he called 'a decent upright man with whom it was easy to work') with taking him to a Nazi Party meeting in 1933. But Hiirmlein's main contribution to Guderian's ambitions was the training of truck and tank drivers in 24 NSKK-Reichsmotorsportschulen, about 187,000 being provided between 1933 and 1939 to solve largely the basic preparation of crews for highly motorised forces, all as part of the role of co-operation that evolved with the SA after the purge of its leaders in June 1934. 39 Obstructors there would always be and notably from three sources. First, from the new Chief of the recreated General Staff, Generaloberst Ludwig Beck, an artilleryman like Fritsch but slow and hesitant in decision, who was the opposite of Fritsch in philosophical outlook. Though most German generals, in Sir John Wheeler-Bennett's words,'. . . .did not regard war as the primary role of the soldier, but believed that Germany's rearmament should be of such a degree that they would lessen rather than increase the danger of war by making it impossible for Germany to be attacked or gainsaid with impunity', Beck interpreted this in its military aspects as a sufficiently strong argument for retaining the 'delaying defensive' or, as Fritsch called it, 'organised flight'. Fritsch had the last word and the traditional Prussian doctrine of attack was reinstated-to Guderian's undisguised pleasure. Suggestions have been made that Beck hampered the creation of panzer divisions because, as a man who became dedicated to the resistance against Hitler, he recognised the immense potency of this new instrument of war and its propensity to strengthen Hitler's powers. There is no evidence in support of^this supposition. Hardly anybody on the General Staff is on record for appreciating the potential value of armoured forces in 1934. The following conversations between Guderian and Beck, when proposals were being made, are fairly typical of the general level of 56/258
understanding in those days: Beck: How many of these divisions do you want? Guderian: Two to begin with, later 20. Beck: And how will you lead these divisions? Guderian: From the front - by wireless. Beck: Nonsense! A divisional commander sits back with maps and a telephone. Anything else is Utopian!
The second source of obstruction was generated by the Cavalry who persisted in their efforts to retain a full share of the manpower allocation and of resources. They saw Guderian as a threat to their existence, but in their opposition merely delayed the inevitable since those above them were already determined that progress should be maintained. People who say that the German military hierarchy was against the creation of a panzer force are wrong; but, sound professionals that they were, they rightly demanded convincing evidence before committing themselves to something that was huge, costly and irrevocable at a time of tight budgeting. Guderian had to provide the evidence-in-chief but already many cavalry officers, notably among the younger generation (and not only in the German Army by any means) welcomed the prospects offered by mechanisation. They had long ago lost faith in the operational role of their arm. They, and the rankers, saw practical advantages in learning about mechanical vehicles inlhe age of the internal combustion engine. Guderian's antipathy to the Cavalry was probably taken a little too far - but his patience was provoked by intransigence. In adopting the line that they might be poor substitutes for the indoctrinated men of the Motor Transport Service, he argued against incorporating 57/258
horse-thinking soldiers into the Panzertruppe which he hoped to form, though he was remarkably successful in encouraging many cavalry officers to transfer independently. Eventually 40 per cent of the Panzertruppe's officers were those who had been charmed away from the Cavalry. Reichenau, of course, was fully aware of Guderian's objections to cavalry participation and may well have heaved a sigh of relief when an opportunity to avoid a confrontation was presented by the simultaneous absence of Lutz and Guderian from Berlin in April 1934 at a moment when forward planning for expansion was at a critical point. Calling for Walther Nehring, the senior member of Lutz's staff present, Reichenau made the quite original and unexpected suggestion that the Panzertruppe should be built up by attaching the 3rd Cavalry Division as a whole to it. Nehring instantly accepted and, although the scheme was never fully implemented, it did, at least, break the ice. 40 The third obstruction was later raised by the Artillery, not so much because their status or strength was in peril but because their methods were in question. The demands of infantry for artillery support were much as they had been in 1918 and welcomed by the gunners because they called for more and heavier fire support - and therefore an increased number of appointments for them. But the Panzer Command wanted something different due to the need, as enunciated by Guderian '... to follow up a panzer attack which normally opened up very quickly. This led to a demand for self-propelled mounts as early as 1934: but the artillerymen did not believe in such fast-moving combat. Accustomed for five hundred years to draw their guns with the muzzle pointing backwards and to unlimber for action, they successfully opposed this proposal until the bitter experience of war taught them to follow the suggestions of the Inspector General [himself] . . .'
The source of artillery resistance was widespread but fiercely concentrated in the highest places. Fewer gunners in proportion to infantrymen and cavalrymen had been killed in the First World War and this preservation, allied to the intellectual quality of the type they recruited, meant that more gunners in proportion to any other type of officer were available for high appointments in the 1930s. 41All three generals who were to hold the top posts in OKW after 1938 and throughout the Second World War were gunners - that is Wilhelm Keitel, Alfred Jodl and Walter Warlimont. In the Army High Command (OKH) Fritsch and Beck42 were gunners, as was Franz Haider who succeeded Beck as Chief of Staff in 1938. As a matter of interest it will also be noticed that, from 1938, not one of the most senior generals in Hitler's Army was titled, while 58/258
Franz Halder, a highly intellectual, rather schoolmasterly Bavarian, was the first non-Prussian to become Chief of the General Staff. These men formed the final court of appeal with direct access to Hitler whenever gunner interests were threatened by Guderian and his kind. They were not in a position to prevent the formation of the Panzertruppe in 1934, however. In the implementation of that memorable innovation neither Blomberg nor Reichenau and Fritsch were to be denied. The creation of the Panzertruppe in the summer of 1934, with Lutz at its head and Guderian as Chief of Staff, merely opened a gap in the defences of the opposition. Guderian could never convince Beck of the need for the panzer instruction manual which had been written by him and his staff. The Chief of Staff may have seen the need without approving the contents, but by 1939 the greater part of the necessary regulations had still not been issued to the troops. Of course, Beck saw no need for the Panzertruppe at all since tanks, in his opinion, were only of use as ancilliary weapons incorporated with the infantry - in the manner of the French. It was true that the sight of the first light tanks - the Pz Is which were intended only for training purposes and which were formed into their first battalion in 1934 under the command of Major Harpe - did little to inspire confidence. They bore not the remotest resemblance to dominant weapons, being hardly more than machine-gun carriers of limited cross-country performance. Yet in August 1935 this battalion and another, plus the bits and pieces - real and pseudo - assembled by Lutz and Guderian into makeshift units over the past five years, took the field in special manoeuvres and, in four weeks' intensive experiment, proved the viability of the comprehensive system they represented and the immense faith of all their men in a new way of warfare that lay so close to hand. The major failures occurred mainly in highly mobile situations when the limited communication facilities were quite inadequate. Clearly far more elaborate radio nets were needed. But the creation of the Panzer Command was then but a formality and obtained formal recognition in October, with Lutz, promoted to the first General der Panzertruppen, in command. Three panzer divisions were formed - without tanks since equipment was still in short supply and enough officers and men had yet to be trained. Even then the project was robbed of its full entitlement, for Beck refused the new Command equal status with the Infantry and Artillery, and the promotion of Guderian to command the 2nd Panzer Division removed him from the hub of progress and policy-making where he was most effective. With him out of the way, Beck at once, and almost unopposed, formed a Panzer Brigade the task of which was to co-operate closely with the ordinary, slow horse and foot divisions - a task which Lutz and Guderian had admitted in their 1935 report as being one of a number of uses it could have. This was the first, but by no means the last, time Guderian was to be sideiracked by a Chief of Staff. Let it not be thought, however, that Beck was alone in resisting the Panzer Command or that the Panzer Command was the only modern scheme which he opposed. He merely represented the focal point of wholesale resistance by those influential members of the General Staff who remained unconvinced of the viability of the new weapons and systems - be they tanks, aircraft or the new Wehrmacht Central Staff with its challenge to the old supremacy of the General Staff. Guderian was not being unfair when he remarked, after 1945, that this type of general '. . . dominated the Army General Staff and pursued a personal policy which insured that the leading General Staff positions in the Central Branch were always occupied by men of their way of thinking'. This, after all, is a familiar story in most armies, but it was provocative to eager men like Guderian — and Hitler - who also pursued personal policies. Each protagonist was full of good intentions to himself. Nevertheless, even without Guderian close to its helm, the strong organisation he had formulated gradually grew. The officers who had been trained in Russia, the staff he had imbued with his ideas at the Panzer Command and the blueprints laid down had merely to be implemented as funds and new equipment became available and the original instructors and men in the lower echelons caught the enthusiasm of their leaders. The tank industry, too, was directing its energies on lines which had the approval of Lutz and Guderian, though it was expending so much time on research a'nd development that production tanks of the required type were a long way from being built in worthwhile numbers. But, of course, industry was treading fresh ground and this slowed initial production: for example, there were all sorts of problems involved with the 59/258
working and mounting of armoured plate. With the other types of supporting cross-country vehicles there were problems, too, due to the inadequate specifications put forward by the General Staff. Guderian is remembered for his temerity, at a disastrous demonstration of these soft-skinned vehicles in 1937, marching up to the Commander-in-Chief of the time, Fritsch, and roundly condemning the two-wheeled drive vehicles that had been shown, concluding with, 'Had my advice been followed we would now have had a real armoured force'. The remark is significant in its meaning rather than in its smack of insubordination, for it showed that, by demanding not only the very high establishment of 561 tanks in the original armoured divisions but also armoured infantry-carrying vehicles, he was a true disciple of Fuller who has invariably (and wrongly) been criticised for over-stating his demands for the tank. Both Fuller and Guderian thought m terms of a truly armoured force even though, perhaps, Fuller used the word 'tank' rather loosely when referring to supporting armoured vehicles. And one day, in the march on Russia, lack of four-wheel drive transport was to prove fatal to the German Army. A prolonged debate, concerning the type of tank needed, retarded industry. The final specifications did not meet all of Guderian's requirements either for, although he attached far more importance to fast-moving machines, he also stated the desirability in 1936 for a heavy tank '. . . to assault permanent fortifications or fortified field positions', tanks which must have'. . . a good destruction, gap-crossing and wading capability besides strong armour and armament of up to a calibre of 150mm' - and these machines, he thought, would come out at 70 to 100 tons and might be too expensive. They would, he said, be used independently in small numbers but 'They are extremely dangerous opponents and should not be underestimated'. With trepidation he appreciated that the heavy French 2 C was barely vulnerable to a 75mm gun. But because of the restrictions imposed by expense and his demand for high numbers, Guderian had to settle for the smaller solution represented by lighter, faster and cheaper machines: in any case an upper weight limit of 24 tons had to be imposed because of the weight restrictions on existing field engineers' bridges. Two types of tank were fixed upon in 1934: as a stop gap, a light tank for reconnaissance with a top speed of about 35 mph and as main armament a 20mm gun, called Pz II; and a medium battle tank (to be called Pz IV) with an initial weight of 18 tons, a top speed of 25 mph and a short rather inaccurate 75mm gun as main armament, whose primary purpose was direct support, not for tank-versus-tank combat. Neither of these tanks in their initial production form had armour in excess of 30mm, and therefore they were only proof against small arms fire and shell splinters, not against direct hits from field artillery and special antitank guns such as were already in service. Moreover neither the 20mm nor the short 75mm gun had a good performance at battle ranges against the existing type of heavy French tank. However, bearing in mind that although much reliance was to be placed upon mechanised infantry anti-tank guns (deployed in depth) for dealing with enemy tanks, tank-versus-tank combat was rated a certainty in 1935 and so a third type of battle tank was proposed. This was to be Pz III, a slightly smaller version of Pz IV, whose prime purpose was as a tank killer since neither the 50mm gun, suggested by Guderian, nor the 37mm gun finally installed by the Chief of the Ordnance Office in consultation with the Inspector of Artillery, would fire a satisfactory high explosive round such as that fired by the 75mm gun on Pz IV. Hence the initial equipment for the panzer divisions was to consist of three complementary types of tank, not one of which was the equal of the heavily armed and well-armoured tanks being laid down by the French. Moreover the standard infantry anti-tank gun was inadequate before it came into service, though the overall design of the Pz III and IV was good. Both, however, had ample capacity for expansion in armament, armour and power plant if the need arose - as Guderian knew, from the study of history and the application of plain common sense, that it must. The arrangement of crew seating was also good and so were the optical instruments provided for turret gunners: hence fighting efficiency was high, while crew morale was well taken care of by the provision of excellent escape hatches. 43
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But though the proposed tanks themselves were suspect, while possessed of immense potential, there was one vital field in which the Germans were moving far ahead of their prospective opponents - that of superlative command and control procedures allied to a revolutionary and unique philosophy which had advanced beyond the most extreme ideas of other armies after 1934. The extent to which German thinking had overtaken all others was defined in an article, written by Guderian in 1935 with a view to refuting criticisms of mechanisation which were being made in military and non-military journals, the Berlin Stock Exchange Journal for one. In this article Guderian reflected upon von Schlieffen's call in 1909 for methods that made possible the existence of'a modern Alexander'. He developed the proposition that 'Only leaders who drive in front of the troops will influence the outcome of the battle - the best aviators did so and so did the British General Elles at Cambrai'. He was opening a campaign to raise the scale of wireless sets so that radio communication could be extended below company level (as it stood until 1936) to give each tank a set of its own. 'The modern Alexander must bend modern technology to his will and instil it into his soldiers ... If he forges his sword with a firm, clear mind to protect the honour and freedom of his people, that is a task set him by Fate.' The paper was endorsed by Oberst Fritz Fellgiebel, the Inspector of the Signal Corps, who declared that modern signal systems were the only way to make the panzer weapon work. But midway through the paper a poignant sentence tells us something additional about Guderian: the comment 'Alexander was a king - not a mere divisional commander', has a wealth of expression along with its insight into the uphill struggle in which he was engaged. For Beck, as usual, took the opposite view: to him human beings and not machines were the real instruments of war, as he said in a speech before Hitler in October 1935. 44 The radio network which Fellgiebel was engineering for the Panzertruppe had a performance
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pitched to meet the specifications of the sort of long-range operations Guderian anticipated. The two worked closely together. These sets were simple to operate and reliable. They were constructed in units which could be easily secured to panels or connected to each other, thus permitting quick assembly or dismantling: their design so good that exceptional performance was possible with tuning to close limits even in a vehicle such as a tank with its.enormous vibrations. A point was to arrive when, as Albert Praun, who worked closely with Guderian and was, in due course, to become Chief of Wehrmacht Signals, said: '. . . it was possible to maintain uninterrupted strategic and tactical control of armoured units while they were engaged in any form of movement; indeed, this control became simpler, more flexible and more reliable than the control of the non-mechanised units.' Paradoxically it was the main stumbling block to many officers believing in Guderian: the scope of his vision and experience extended far beyond their limited imagination. Paradoxically, too, the Infantry, despite the half-heartedness of their main sponsors, also desired mechanisation, as exemplified by the motori-sation of their anti-tank company, against the advice of Guderian who feared for the squandering of limited resources: these guns should be horse-drawn, he maintained, because they travelled in company with foot soldiers. (For the same objection against diversification of industrial effort he opposed, in 1938, the provision of assault guns for the Infantry.) But these digressions were as nothing compared with the dilutions which took place once Guderian had been despatched to command a division, and the cold and more pliable Oberst Friedrich Paulus took his place as Chief of Staff to Lutz. Lutz without Guderian was unable to prevent the erosion of the Panzertruppe by sectional interests. Whereas Guderian might have just been able to maintain the unity of the entire armoured force as he desired, his successors permitted the fragmentation of the force so that, for example, the reconnaissance units were handed over to the Cavalry, and the motorised rifle units to the Infantry along with the creation of motorised Infantry Divisions. As a further diversification, Light Divisions, with only a low tank content, were formed and put under the Cavalry, though with the proviso that when more tanks became available they would be raised to full Panzer Division status. The Panzertruppe was reduced to responsibility only for the actual tank units, although XVI Corps staff was formed to control all three Panzer Divisions and placed under a special Group Command 4 along with the two other Corps which commanded the Motorised Infantry and the Light Divisions. This Group was placed under Generaloberst von Brauchitsch, who had conducted the early experiments of 1923, and given the mission of studying the operational employment of mechanised formations. None of this was as serious as Guderian made out, providing there remained ample time for experiment. But'in 1936 Hitler began to push Germany along the pathway of aggression, a route which dangerously resembled a tight-rope. In March, when barely a trickle of modern arms had begun to flow from the factories and the panzer divisions were little more than inscriptions on paper, he chanced his arm and remilitarised the Rhineland. By the end of that year the better informed generals in OKH began to realise that Hitler was embarked upon war. He coined for propaganda effect the word Blitzkrieg - the lightning stroke by air and land forces aimed at the country concerned. Campaigns, if necessary, were to be short in duration since Hitler, according to General Thomas, '. .. always rejected all measures of preparation for a long war (economic mobilisation) in favour of the creation of new divisions' - presumably also for propaganda effect. Thomas opposed Blitzkrieg in the press, in military periodicals and in public lectures'. .. because I felt sure that a new war in Europe would mean a new world war for which the German economic resources would be inadequate unless she had strong allies'. But Hitler hoped to conquer without war. Guderian was among those who held the opposite opinion to Thomas over Blitzkrieg: he believed in it. As 1936 moved into 1937 his efforts were geared to preserving the Panzertruppe as part of a defence force - though gradually its predatory value was being noticed and exploited. In the autumn of 1936 Lutz suggested that public support might be generated in a book setting out the reasons for and the role of the panzer divisions. That winter, in great haste and in addition to his other duties, Guderian wrote Achtung! Panzer! - a collection of his lectures, integrated with the best of the articles and arguments he had deployed in the past decade. As a result the book's 62/258
style was somewhat uneven. But the impact was considerable. It became a military best-seller and the Guderians bought their first car on the proceeds. It was closely studied by the General Staff Intelligence branches' of the world and from 193 7 to 1939 was essential reading, along with Fuller's books (but not Liddell Hart's), for the Kriegsakademie of the Austrian Army, whose leading tank expert, Ludwig von Eimannsberger, was also strongly advocating panzer divisions, based upon Fuller's doctrine.
Achtung! Panzer! disclosed no secrets - the Pz Ills and IVs were not mentioned - and the latest thoughts about the ambitious role of panzer divisions for deep penetration were muted. But support for Hitlerian opinion was evident in those sections where it led towards Guderian's objectives. He quoted from Hitler's speech at the 1937 Motor Show:' "It is cosiness, not to say indolence, which protests loudly at all the revolutionary innovations which demand new efforts of mind, body and soul" ' and ' "This much is certain: the replacement of animal power by the motor leads to the most tremendous technical and consequently economical change the world has ever experienced." ' The Four Year Plan, which operated under Hermann Goring, was invoked to show how, very soon, Germany's dependence upon imports of petrol and rubber would be eliminated, thus minimising a fundamental objection to mechanised forces to the effect that Germany could not support them in time of war. Guderian's peroration went far beyond the call for a defence force, however: 'One thing is certain, only strong nations will continue to exist and the will for self-determination can become reality only if supported by the necessary power. It is the duty of politics, science, the economy and the armed forces to strive towards the establishment of German political power. Only by providing the Army with the most modern and effective armaments, equipment and intelligent leadership can peace be safeguarded . . . But it is an indis-
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putable fact that, as a rule, new weapons require new techniques in tactics and organisation. One should not pour new wine into old bottles. Deeds are more important than words. The goddess of battle will crown only the most daring with laurels.' The 1930s were days of the propagandists led by Dr Josef Goebbels: Guderian learnt well from him. The book flattered Hitler and all that he stood for, as probably it was calculated to do. Walther Nehring points out that Guderian did not have many contacts with Hitler prior to 1939-indeed it would have been surprising for so junior an officer; he only became Generalmajor in August 1936. Nevertheless he did far better than the Chief of the General Staff. Guderian's opponent, Beck, seems to have had only one private meeting with Hitler throughout his term of office from 1935 to 1938 and this must have hurt Beck. Conflicting emotions were tearing at the German generals as Germany approached Armageddon. In November 1937 Hitler had told Blomberg and Fritsch that he intended to expand to the east, if necessary by means of war in 1943 - and they had surprised him by their horror. These men Hitler now removed by means of charges (trumped up in the case of Fritsch) that denigrated the moral standing of both officers. 45 The resignation of Blomberg and the defamation of Fritsch on 4th February 1938 deeply disturbed Guderian. But the consequential assumption of C-in-C the Wehrmacht by Hitler ? the appointment of Wilhelm Keitel as Chief of the OKW, of Brauchitsch as Army C-in-C and Reichenau as Commander of Group Command 4 (and thus virtually in charge of mechanised development) can hardly have displeased him. Keitel may have been advantageous to his prospects for, in addition to the family connection, Wilhelm's brother, Bodewin, who was of his regiment and his wife's relative and now too a general, was also Chief of the Army Personnel Office - a position of great power and influence in arranging postings and appointments. It mattered less that Wilhelm Keitel was a mere sycophant of Hitler (picked by the Fiihrer with the cry 'That's exactly the man I'm looking for', after Blomberg, who was Keitel's father-in-law, had reported that Wilhelm was, 'nothing but the man who runs my office'): he might be used as one more channel direct to the Fiihrer, particularly now that the Fiihrer was set upon employing the OKW Staff as his personal instrument to the gradual exclusion of the Army Staff. Reichenau he welcomed as 'a progressively minded intelligent soldier for whom I felt a comradely friendship'. His own elevation to Generalleutnant and to command XVI Corps, with Paulus as Chief of Staff, was not unwelcome either, even though it meant supplanting Lutz, who was made to retire. And yet a letter written to Gretel on 7th February transmits foreboding while making it obvious that, not for one moment, did he suspect Hitler's complicity in what had taken place: 'However pleasant and honourable the new appointment, I do not go with an easy mind because, apparently, serious and real tasks are before us and, indeed, differences of opinion which will require strength and nerve. I will have to provide myself with a thick hide. The report to Hitler [in connection with Blomberg and Fritsch] has provided me with insight into things which would better not have happened. The Fiihrer has acted, as usual, with the finest human decency. It is to be hoped that he will be approved by his colleagues [the Nazi leaders].' This letter must be contrasted with Guderian's comments in Panzer Leader where he refers to 4th February as 'the second blackest day of the Army High Command' and goes on to defend Fritsch and criticise Brauchitsch for not waiting for the promulgation of a Court of Inquiry upon his predecessor before taking serious steps. At the same time he points out that 'For the majority [of German generals] the true state of affairs remained obscure'. There is also evidence in the letter that Guderian saw Hitler as somebody apart from the Party. Now came the 'serious and real task', an order to command the leading troops in the surprise occupation of Austria on 12th March 1938. The thrill at this honour and the opportunity it gave to demonstrate the panzer forces and their potential in a long march was paramount. It also allowed a Waffen SS formation to make a showing and it was a suggestion from Guderian, passed to Hitler by Sepp Dietrich, the commander of the SS Leibstandarte, which led to the vehicles being decked with flags and greenery as' a sign of friendly feelings'. Guderian had friendly feelings for Dietrich, too, the ex-Landskneckht who provided yet another direct link to Hitler and to whom Hitler referred as 'simultaneously cunning, energetic and brutal' - a fitting description for most of the world's best fighting men. 64/258
Standing proudly beside Hitler on the balcony in Linz when the F端hrer addressed the people, Guderian was deeply moved by this reunification of German nationals. So, too, was Gretel whose emotions overflowed in a letter to her mother: 'One can as yet hardly believe that Austria has become German. One Reich, one people, one F端hrer. He who does not understand that Hitler is a very great man and leader cannot be helped. I am deeply moved and cried for sheer joy ... I felt tremendously proud that my husband was permitted to experience this historic event in close proximity to the F端hrer. The F端hrer on several occasions affectionately pressed his hand and was very pleased with the surprisingly quick march through Austria. The achievement of the Panzertruppe was specially praised.' And then she got ready to lead the wives of the garrison to welcome Austrian troops with flowers when they arrived for training in the German method. 46
Nevertheless, shortcomings in the reliability of his vehicles (with a 30 per cent official breakdown rate among the tanks, that was probably higher, plus supply difficulties) were failings which he would tackle with customary vigour when the celebrations were concluded. He was working at fever pitch to perfect the three panzer divisions under his command in XVI Corps as fresh political clouds blew up over Czechoslovakia and the German minorities in the Sudetenland. The exercises of autumn 1937, in which he acted as umpire, had exposed the logistic failings of the Corps and had been disagreeably confirmed during the march into Austria. Since war in the autumn of 1938 was now possible (in May Hitler had told Keitel to prepare for an invasion of Czechoslovakia) there was no time to be lost - but as yet there were only a handful of Pz Ills 65/258
and IVs in service, and the issue of radio sets to all tanks was minimal.
As usual the theory of panzer operation reached far ahead of practical implementation. A paper written in 1937 (as rebuttal to criticisms in a General Staff publication, The Review of Military Science) had postulated startlingly original reasons in support of the concept of independent action by fast tank groups. Guderian propounded the theme: '. . . until our critics can produce some new and better method of making a successful land attack other than self-massacre, we shall continue to main tain our belief in tanks-properly employed . . .' His faith was based upon strategic speed:'... to be able to move faster than hitherto: to keep moving despite the enemy's defensive fire and thus to make it harder for him to build up fresh defensive positions'. This was essentially different from the reason commonly espoused by others - of speed as a means of tactical protection against enemy fire: to this Guderian never gave much weight, accepting that'... in unusually unfavourable conditions the hostile artillery can have serious effects on the movement of tanks'. As usual he could not restrain his sardonic wit: 'It is said "The motor is not a new weapon: it is simply a new method of carrying old weapons forward." It is fairly well known that combustion engines do not fire bullets . . .' This sort of jibe in conference or on paper did not endear him to opponents among the Army hierarchy who lacked his sense of humour. Reports from the world's tank battlefields in 1937 were not beneficial to Guderian's case. Italian light tanks had made a poor showing against badly armed tribesmen in Abyssinia in 1935; the Japanese had tried only a limited use of inferior machines in the Far East; and in Spain, where some of the ineffectual Pz Is had been committed to action under the advice of Major Ritter von Thoma , as part of the Kondor Legion, the results had been anything but encouraging. German and Italian tanks fighting on the Fascist side, and Russian tanks with the Republicans, had been used in relatively small numbers. They were poorly supported and therefore did not achieve worthwhile gains. Thoma, a Bavarian and a bachelor of uncertain swings in mood and opinion, 66/258
intensely annoyed Guderian with reports which suggested that tanks were a failure and that there was no need for each to have a radio set. These reports arrived at a critical moment during the negotiations for funds to buy fresh equipment and hampered his efforts to expand the panzer force. Staunchly Guderian pointed out the inadequacy of the tanks and the techniques that were being employed on unsuitable ground. In Achtung! Panzer! he declared that 'neither the war in Abyssinia nor the Civil War in Spain can be regarded, in our opinion, as a sort of "Dress Rehearsal" with regard to the effectiveness of the armoured fighting vehicle', but he was really only stonewalling. The fact remained that operations by the tank's sister weapon, bombing aircraft, were regarded in precisely that light - as the demonstration of a match-winner. Blood-curdling accounts of destruction from the ah- dominated the world's newspapers to strengthen the proponents of air warfare, who claimed it as a prime means to a decision when aimed at the civil populace. Tanks could lay no such claim and therefore were held much lower in esteem and in the order of priority for resources.
Believing with the utmost sincerity in the essential nature of his demands and fearful that his opponents would rob Germany of the fruits of his labours (undoubtedly he cast himself in the role of a military apostle), he began to react more out of character as the strain upon him increased. For example, during the training exercises of 1938 when Hitler was present and witnessed an awful muddle due to inept orders from the commander and staff of Panzer Regiment I, he saw red. In the concluding discussions Brauchitsch and General J. von Blaskowitz 47 let the miscreants off quite lightly-they may even have relished a debacle in one of Guderian's units. But Guderian took them all to one side and told them in no uncertain terms what he thought of them. His elder son, then a young officer, was present and remarks that it was a pulverising performance - one upon which his brother junior officers commented favourably afterwards because they thought the 'rocket' overdue. Most unusually, however, Guderian followed up his repri67/258
mand by posting a number of senior officers, the sort of action he rarely took. He was more accustomed to making the best use of the available material - men, land and equipment. 48 The stresses and strains being imposed upon his superiors now began to recoil directly upon him. Beck, a tragic figure who found it hard to convert conviction into action and was among the very few senior officers with the insight to understand the threat that Hitler posed, was urgent in his attempts to persuade Brauchitsch to make a stand over the treatment of Fritsch who, in February 1938, was falsely accused of scandalous behaviour. Brauchitsch declined. Convinced of the folly of attacking Czechoslovakia, Beck next endeavoured to resist Hitler's intentions on the grounds that Germany was unprepared for war. But Brauchitsch again would not challenge the elected representative of the people, - and sold the pass. From this moment nothing the generals could do, other than by outright rebellion, could halt Hitler or prevent their degradation. Beck resigned and the hunt was on for a more compliant Chief of Staff. General Warlimont, whose impressions of Guderian between 1933 and 1939 are chiefly of'. . . a passionate panzer man nothing more', seems to recall that Guderian was considered as a possible successor to Beck. It seems unlikely that this was a serious proposition though its mere suggestion in high places was bound to arouse antagonism among the alarmed generals. While Guderian lacked the requisite seniority and prestige for such an august post, he was also the representative of a minority military faction and clearly a favourite of Hitler. Franz Halder eventually took over from Beck and also continued the scheme of resistance to Hitler - though with muted zeal. The dialogue between Hitler and Guderian had become closely personal. Invitations to dine and to accompany him to the opera led to discussions upon tank problems. The habit of giving Guderian a leading part in military operations became almost a formality. Thus XVI Corps received the role of occupying the Sudetenland after the Munich Agreement had postponed war. To Gretel on 5th October he wrote describing the 'suffering and repression' which the Germans of the Sudetenland had suffered under Czech rule - they had 'lost all hope' - and in Panzer Leader he tells of enthusiastic crowds greeting the Fuhrer and his troops. When Hitler entered Guderian's car 'he shook hands with me in a very friendly way ... A very great man!' he wrote. 'To achieve such a victory without a stroke of the sword is perhaps unprecedented in history. It was of course only possible because of the new, sharp sword in our hand and with the will to use it had peaceable means not been possible. Both these determinations were evident from this, courageous man.' He went on to tell of the occupation:'. . . the enemy fortifications not nearly as strong as thought, yet better taken this way'; the 'lively satisfaction of everyone, including the Foreign Minister, von Ribbentrop, that war had been avoided'; his happy accord with Reichenau, 'we were in full agreement. His staff not so helpful. Pity!' There can have been few in Germany at that moment who disagreed with his assessment of Hitler. The injustice of Versailles was being wiped out at no cost in lives. But the long-term effects were more ominous and Guderian seems to have given little consideration to them at this moment, so uncritical was he of the Fuhrer. Resources were in short supply as the rearmament programme got into gear. The spectre of inflation loomed large as Austria was digested, as Hitler reached out for the Sudetenland and Czechoslovakia, and as the financial manipulations of the Minister of Economies, Dr Schacht, came close to collapse: the taking of Austria and of the Sudetenland merely added to rather than subtracted from Germany's debt. In 1937 Schacht had fixed both a limit of time and amount on the money available for rearmament and in January 1939, as President of the Reichsbank, told the Economics Minister to declare the Reich bankrupt by refusing to make a routine monthly advance. According to Goring, the head of the Four Year Plan, Schacht was at once dismissed on the grounds of his impossible attitude. But world opinion was turning against Germany and Guderian, who visited Britain about that time, must have known it. When Czechoslovakia was seized in March 1939, and the pressure was next put upon Poland, there could no longer be doubt in the minds of the generals where they were headed. The Army General Staff, conjoint with the civil populace, adopted what amounted roughly to three different opinions. Subject to the usual reservations about generalisation and allowing for all shades of variation in opinion, there were those like Guderian who welcomed the Hitler regime as a means of restoring Germany's prestige and authority, whose pride was in the army they were re68/258
building, and whose fascination was with the new weapon systems they were creating - sharpened, undoubtedly and rather understandably, by an inquisitive ambition to see if their ideas would work. This group was probably most fearful of the Poles and abhorrent of the Communists: the Western Powers to them (as to the other groups too) poised a counterweight to their most acquisitive ambitions since they were apparently too strong to attack. Then there were the disgruntled soldiers and civilians who had been removed or snubbed by Hitler - HammersteinEquord and Schacht, for example, and Beck who favoured peace chiefly because he thought Germany was not ready for a major war: with them Guderian also concurred since he knew too well the imperfections of the panzer force and the rest of the Army. Finally there was the vast majority, those in harness who agreed with the second group but either would not resign, were not sacked or who soldiered on without caring to think too deeply about the issues that were involved. Beck and his kind would gradually form an active resistance movement against Hitler. Haider would debate and temporise with the conspirators in their tentative schemes to assassinate Hitler at an appropriate moment but, when it came to the crunch, he would withdraw, pleading the compulsion of the Oath sworn to Hitler on 3rd August 1934, or his sense of duty to the Army in the hope that, while remaining at duty instead of resigning, it might yet be possible to achieve something good. Argue though Haider would against those of Hitler's schemes with which he disagreed, he nevertheless complied with his orders and prosecuted the preparations for war.
Likewise the Commander-in-Chief, von Brauchitsch 49, whose second wife had strong Nazi inclinations, did little to halt the General Staffs slide into decline except by attempting to stop any rot he saw within the Army hierarchy. He had watched Guderian's personal triumphs with Hitler in Austria and the Sudetenland and seems, first in conjunction with Beck and then with Haider, to have decided to put Guderian out of harm's way - whether from fear of the threat Guderian 69/258
seemed to pose as a Nazi sympathiser and rival for power, or whether from jealousy, there is no way of determining. But from this moment it becomes increasingly apparent that the opposition to Guderian was no longer so much aimed against his ideas as strongly and directly against his person. There was another factor which neither soldier nor civilian could ignore, although at times it was overestimated. It was the prevailing adulation of Hitler by a large proportion of the people, because he had lifted Germany from the depths of depression, reduced unemployment, and made a real start in restoring her pride. Goebbels underlined that claim. There were quite as many Germans in the lower orders who were as devoted to their country's honour as there were among the upper strata. It was indicative of an abiding political sense, for which the General Staff is rarely credited, that their dissident factions believed in the necessity for popular support in any attempt to curb Hitler. None had forgotten the sight of revolutionary soldiers and crowds in 1918 and Hitler was the most potent crowd-raiser of his day, who expertly cloaked his activities in the guise of popular legality. Even so, those senior German officers who had experienced Freikorps methods at close hand and who knew (as all must) that a hard core of the Nazi Party was composed of old Freikorps fighters who were unable to readjust to normal life, should not have harboured delusions about the deeds these men were capable of perpetrating. For one thing they cannot have been unaware of the persecution of the Jews. Reichenau, for example, is on record for his approval of that policy. Guderian evaded the subject, though there is no record of his involvement in any form of racial atrocity - which is hardly surprising since, although he loathed the Communists and resented the Polish resurgence, he was innocent of bias as regards race or religion. There is nothing in his papers to suggest it - quite the reverse. It has to be faced that many German officers were blind if, by 1938, they could not recognise an impending holocaust of war, but they were in no position to visualise the Final Solution and its awful implications because at that time it was an unimaginable nightmare. For Guderian there was a point beyond which Hitler and his followers could not go without sacrificing his esteem. The treatment of Fritsch was a case in point. His indignation at the manner of the late C-in-C's thoroughly unjust disgrace, and a half-hearted exoneration by Brauchitsch, after Fritsch's innocence was proved, was not simply reserved for the pages of Panzer Leader. His forthright expression of delight in public during the parade at Gross-Born in August 1938, when Fritsch was paid honour, left nobody in any doubt where his heart lay. Despite the Oath of Allegiance to Hitler he stood staunchly by the old Prussian codes. In due course he withheld approval for Hitler's plunder of Czechoslovakia in March 1939, yet, as usual, when controversial politics became too embarrassing, his conditioned safety mechanism came into action. There is no comment in Panzer Leader, merely a discourse on his attention to military duties, and a description of his work in collecting useful war material from the Czech arsenals. Guderian, though he withheld from protest, was too honest later to make out a false case in justification of evil inflicted on a non-German people. On the other hand he could be gullible. His elder son recalls that 'We were sceptical because Germany had deviated from the legal way of uniting all Germans in one State', and remembers asking his father a question which drew '. . . an argument that, I think, came from Hitler, that it would be necessary to eliminate the aircraft carrier in the midst of Germany considering the attitude of the Western Powers'. All too readily he believed, in 1939, what Hitler so glibly pronounced. Gretel, however, had taken an opposite and more passive view at the height of the crisis in September 1938. Some of the euphoria had evaporated when she wrote on the 29th: 'The most beautiful present would be the maintenance of peace from the meeting at Munich to-day. If this is a failure we shall need all our courage and faith. I will do my best to be a brave soldier's wife and mother'. But though Guderian leant heavily upon her when his personal affairs were in difficulty, there is little reason to suppose that he adhered to her political opinions. And at that time he was about to become, once more, an instrument of political manoeuvre, partly as one of Hitler's several unwitting tools in denigrating the military hierarchy. Playing his part of being all things to all men, Hitler appeared to push wedges between the factions within the General Staff whether intentionally divisive or not cannot be ascertained. It could be that, recognising Guder70/258
ian and the Panzer Command were a source of disruption within the Army, he used them to widen an existing rift. In October 1938 he had intervened, ostensibly to strengthen the Panzer Command, in collaboration with Brauchitsch (probably at the la tier's suggestion) to create a Chief of Mobile Troops controlling all the motorised troops - panzers, infantry and cavalry. Guderian, without being told that Hitler approved the change, turned the job down since it lacked sufficient authority to overcome the resistance of the traditionalists in the High Command. This he eventually explained at length to Hitler (after Bodewin Keitel had intervened), who quietly overruled him with the promise that, if he was obstructed, he was to report in person. His promotion to General der Panzertruppen was some mollification but: 'Naturally,' he writes,' there was never any question of my writing a direct report, despite the difficulties that immediately arose'. That is the gist of the Guderian version in Panzer Leader. But his old friend, Hermann Balck, at that time a staff officer in Department In 6 working with Oberst von Schell on motorisation, says that it was Schell who created the post of Chief of Mobile Troops in response to a conspiracy hatched by Brauchitsch and Beck (continued by Haider when he took over) designed to deny Guderian an influential role. Schell, who was later made an Under-Secretary of State, made impossible Balck's attempts to co-ordinate panzer and motorisation policy and so Balck attempted to arrange a meeting at which they would resolve their differences. 'With a laugh', according to Balck, Guderian agreed to try, but Schell refused point blank - a refusal which was inevitable if conspiracy there was and he was the agent of the C-in-C. It is impossible to verify this story. Guderian seems unaware of this particular plot though, as time went by, he felt no doubt that officers in high places were working dangerously against him. It is interesting, however, that he bore Schell no grudge and, indeed, later aided him in misfortune. But this was the second attempt to side-track Guderian, coming swiftly upon the suggestion that he might become Chief of Staff. Rightly Guderian felt that, as Generalleutnant 50 and commander of XVI Corps, he would have had more effect: not unexpectedly all his efforts to bring cavalry establishments into line with the panzer formations met with initially unyielding resistance. Inevitably he became a political catalyst instead of a military coagulant. At the same time he began to win recognition even among his enemies as one with the ear of the Fiihrer who might - in a pinch - act as a middleman to help span a widening gap in communication anfl persuasion between them and the Head of State. For the time being they tried to keep him under their thumbs, engaged upon any sort of sterile task so long as it isolated him from the heart of policy-making. They allowed him free rein to waste his energy and that of his small and dedicated staff in a futile attempt to weld together the squabbling Panzertruppe and Cavalry. Incapable as he was of ready compromise in his approach to this problem, he attempted an integration by leading the Cavalry towards new objectives as part of a modern role which would enable them to function effectively in the sort of war he envisaged. But the instruction manuals which he had brought up to date and tried to persuade the General Staff to adopt, were rejected, and the Cavalry successfully evaded each suggestion to change shape because they did not want to lose their horses — and in the sure knowledge that the C-in-C and Chief of Staff were in sympathy. As a further irritant it was announced that his appointment in time of war, if mobilisation was decreed, would be that of a Reserve Infantry Corps Commander, dooming him to a walking-on part and total divorce from the armoured forces with which he was expert. It was either a calculated insult, which suited the conspiracy, or it was stupidity. Guderian writes that 'it took considerable trouble to get it changed'. We may be sure it did. Maybe the Keitel connection was valuable upon this occasion; there is no way of telling how his fortunes were restored since he is silent on the matter. It is small wonder, however, that at this, a nadir in his career,-his contemporary writings exhibit pessimistic tendencies that were most uncharacteristic. Probably he felt that the forces of tradition were too strong. The summer of 1939 passed in a whirl of intense preparation for a war that could only be decided in Germany's favour by a miracle. The parades in Berlin, with Guderian's tanks rolling in phalanx down the chaussees to the cheers of the crowds and the respect of foreign observers, while Goring's Luftwaffe roared overhead, merely represented a facade shielding little of sub71/258
stance. But they invoked the sort of impression Hitler sought as part of his grand bluff - even though Guderian curtly dismissed them (without much perception of political motives) as 'more exhausting than impressive'. Like so many of the new breed of mechanised soldiers he had meagre time for ceremonial, though he was shrewd enough to appreciate the attraction to soldiers of a striking uniform. His panzer soldiers were dressed in dramatic black overalls and wore a black beret, somewhat similar to that already adopted by the British Royal Tank Corps. As the crisis approached, Guderian seethed at each manifestation of wasted time and effort. Ambition spurred him on while his opponents coolly held him back even from his nearest goals. Yet while he expended practically every atom of energy in his pursuit of the heights of military achievement, he had a remarkable facility for relaxation. Spending 95 per cent of his time with military matters he was able to set the job aside when the opportunity arrived. Unlike Schlieffen, he could never dismiss the view of a beautiful valley' as of no significance as a military obstacle': nor, like Rommel, sit through an opera and fill the time in contemplation of how to deploy an extra battalion in some forthcoming offensive. The creator of the Panzertruppe had much in common with his British counterpart, Percy Hobart, who was also a man of immense verve and frustrated zeal, and who, too, was being side-tracked. Each, when under the direst stress, was capable of writing sensitive and perceptive letters to their wives and able to cast off the cares of their task once they crossed the threshold of their homes. But in August 1939 home was to look a little more remote. The ultimately exhausting event was about to engulf them all.
Vindication in Poland Throughout a summer in which tension with Poland was stimulated by German agencies, Guderian and his staff were preoccupied with plans for major exercises in which the mechanised divisions were to be tested as never before, mangeuvres which demanded the initial stages of mobilisation. Crew training, however, was far from complete in every unit and while they had over 3,000 tanks with which to play, only 98 of them were Pz Ills and 211 Pz IVs, and therefore most were the light Pz Is and Us. But the latest communication systems had arrived almost to scale and improvements had been made to the supply services. Then came a change that can hardly have been unexpected. On 22nd August Guderian was ordered to take command of the newly formed XIX Corps (with Nehring as Chief of Staff) at Gross-Born and, under the cover title of' Fortification Staff Pomerania', build field fortifications along the frontier with Poland. Next day Hitler announced the signing of a non-aggression pact with Soviet Russia and ordered the Army to attack Poland on the 26th. Preparations would be incomplete and mobilisation only in the preparatory stages, but the mechanised units were ready: some had been fully mobilised since July.
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Panzer action in Poland 1939 In Operation 'White', Hitler commits the German Army and Luftwaffe to the invasion of Poland. When two Army Groups, North and South, strike concentrically at a weak opponent - mostly infantry divisions deployed within fifty miles of the frontier, Polish forces are encircled and within seventeen days the campaign is virtually at an end. Warsaw, unsuited to armoured attack, continues to resist until 27 September. German double encirclement strategy and previous experience gained from Condor Legion operations in Spain prove decisive. Hoth and Hoepner (Third and Fourth Panzer Armies) 1 September 1939. The main weight of Panzer assault lies with the three motorized corps, XIV, XV and XVI, spearheading German Tenth Army (von Reichenau). Von Kleist and Guderian (First and Second Panzer Armies) 1 September 1939, also deployed in conjunction with infantry armies, operate on the wings of the offensive. Operations are led by six panzer divisions, including a 'mixed' division (Kempt), four light divisions, and four motorized divisions. Included in the invasion force are SS Regiments: Adolf Hitler (SSLAH), Deutschland and Germania. Guderian (1) XIX MotK: 2nd, 20th MotDivs; 3rd PzDiv Kempf (2) PzDiv Kempf: 7th PzRegt, SS Regt Deutschland, etc. 73/258
Guderian (3) Redeployed XIX MotK: After 7 September includes 10th PzDiv Von Wietersheim (4) XIV MotK: 1st LtDiv, 13th, 29th MotDivs; and later 5th Pz Div Hoepner (5) XVI MotK: 1st, 4th PzDivs; two InfDivs Hoth (6) XV MotK: 2nd, 3rd LtDivs; 25th PzRegt Von Kleist (7) XXII MotK: 2nd PzDiv; 4th LtDiv (8) Eighth Army) XIII AK includes SS Regt Leibstandarte Adolf Hitler before transfer to Tenth Army (9) (Fourteenth Army) VIII AK includes SS Regt Germania A Gr North/South von Bock/von Runstedt; 37 infantry, three mountain, fifteen mobile divs, 3,195 tanks Polish Army 38 infantry divisions, eleven cavalry, two motorized brigades, 600-700 light tanks (500 battle-fit) Luftwaffe Kesselring 1st Air Fleet-A Gr North; Lohr 4th Air Fleet-A Gr South, 1,550 aircraft Polish Air Force 750 aircraft (500 battle-fit)
Poland's ability to defend herself depended mainly upon a fiery determination to preserve her newly won independence. Of modern weapons she had few - a mere 225 tanks, not all of them modern, and only 360 aircraft to set against Germany's 1,250. For combat technique she relied upon the sort of linear defence and positional warfare by horse and foot armies which had been the fashion in 1920, and which still largely dictated the methods of her allies in the West - the French and the British. From them she could not expect speedy help since they would take weeks to -mobilise the massed-style armies of a previous epoch; nor was she likely to assemble her own full strength of 45 divisions and 12 brigades in the short time permitted by the Ger74/258
mans. It was about to be revealed to an astonished world that, for special reasons, Poland never had a chance; that six Panzer Divisions and four Light Divisions aided by massive air intervention could achieve in a few days what the remaining 45 German cavalry and infantry formations might never have accomplished in weeks. As Professor Michael Howard has said, 'The Germans were almost unique in 1939-40 in that they appreciated with the minimum of practical experience . . . the full implications which the new technological developments held for military science and embodied them in their equipment and their doctrine. I find it difficult, off hand, to think of a comparable example. Usually everybody starts even and everybody starts wrong.' If Howard had substituted 'Guderian and his adherents' for 'the Germans' he would have been precisely accurate. Ironically, though symbolically, Guderian was to be denied a part in the main initial armoured drive which was directed by Generaloberst Gerd von Rundstedt's Army Group South (Chief of Staff, von Manstein) with two Panzer and three Light Divisions from Silesia towards Warsaw. In so-called good tank country Guderian's old XVI Corps, commanded by General der Kavallerie Erich Hoepner, was told to lead the assault and was to make striking progress from the moment it was launched on 1st September - the alteration from 26th August being enforced by diplomatic circumstances. Guderian's XIX Corps, with its single panzer division - the 3rd - and its 2nd and 20th Motorised Divisions (which had no tanks) was to be sent as the spearhead of Army Group North (Generaloberst Fedor von Bock) and Fourth Army (General der Artillerie G端nther von Kluge) against far tougher opposition on a potentially less lucrative mission into the strongly defended Polish Corridor where fortifications made good use of the delaying effect of two river obstacles - the Brahe and the Vistula. Yet it was the magnitude of an awkward task which gave Guderian, from the outset, the opportunity to demonstrate, with a minimum of time for preparation, the versatility of his creation.
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On the 24th - the eve of battle as he erroneously took it to be - he wrote a bracing letter to Gretel: 'We have to keep our ears stiff and be prepared for strenuous work. I hope all will turn out well and also quickly ... As regards the Western Powers it is not clear what they will do, though surprises are not out of the question, but now we can bear that with fortitude. The whole situation has improved considerably and we can go to work full of confidence . . .' - an approving reference to the Soviet Pact which he welcomed as a re-establishment of the bridge with Russia. He realised how her mother's heart would be worried for their two sons, both of whom were in the Army and soon to receive their baptism of fire along with the Panzertmppe. But 'Please be a brave soldier's wife and, as so often before, an example to other people. We have drawn the lot to live in a warlike way and now have to put up with it'. Nowhere does Guderian show remorse for the Poles. It would have been surprising had he done so. Poland was an excrescence to many Prussians, a nation which had come into being at the expense of the tribal homeland. Since 1918 they had posed a constant threat to Germany's eastern frontier: Frontier Defence Force East had been as much concerned with checking depradations by the Poles as by the Bolsheviks. And Guderian was particularly pleased to play a part in recapturing the old family property. His letter to Gretel indicates how'... the old family estates, GrossKlonia, Kulm now take on a special significance ... Is it not strange that I especially have been commissioned to play this role'. But he cannot have had detailed knowledge of the briefing of the Commanders-in-Chief by Hitler on 22nd August, although no doubt he was aware that Brauchitsch had promised the Fiihrer 'a quick war'. So, likely though it is that he was informed through the usual flow of news circulating in higher military circles that the British and French might be intransigent, it is unlikely he heard then that Hitler had also pronounced on the 22nd: 'I have ordered to the East my "Death Head Units" with the order to kill without pity or mercy all men, women and children of Polish race or language'. Andeven if he had known there was nothing much he, in his position, could have done about it, for the slide into degradation by the political and military forces under the Nazis had already been permitted to pass the point of no return. All the military could do now, apart from an act of outright revolution for which they were neither adjusted nor organised, was mitigate the worst ramifications of evil perpetrated by the monster they had permitted and, at times, welcomed into their midst. Those who have never suffered a situation similar to that in Germany in 1939 are entitled to maintain that the generals should have behaved differently, but they should also view the situation from the generals' point of view - and ask themselves, too, how many Allied generals, faced with circumstances they did not approve - such as the Bomber Offensive against civilians - made a worthwhile protest? 51 Predictably Guderian decided that XIX Corps' main effort should be made by 3rd Panzer Division along his right flank where a deep penetration would benefit from the protection provided by two streams running parallel with the division's boundaries. That way, too, he would have the satisfaction of quickly capturing the family home of Gross-Klonia. The two motorised divisions were told to enter less promising territory: one rather feels that Guderian attached little importance to their role. He travelled with the leading tanks of 3rd Panzer Division in one of the latest armoured command vehicles, equipped with radio that enabled speech to his main headquarters in the rear and such other formations as he needed. His account of the first day's action in Panzer Leader embodies the full fury of the prejudices he had acquired through frustration in the past decade: his anger with the artillery when they fired into the morning mist against orders, bracketing his vehicle and frightening the driver into a ditch: his disgust when he arrived at th Brahe to find stalemate, a complete loss of impetus without a single senior commander in sight to re-inject momentum. In sight of the family home he was enraged to discover that the commander of 6th Panzer Regiment had halted because he thought the river too strongly defended, and that the divisional commander, Generalleutnant Geyr von Schweppenburg52, was nowhere to be found. Geyr, by his account, had been called back to Army Group for consultation - a barely credible state of affairs when one realises that his division was entirely fresh to battle and demanding of personal leadership. It took the example set by a young tank commander, who had found a bridge that was undemolished, and by his own intervention in conjunction with the commander of 3rd Rifle Brigade, to get things moving again. Soon infantry, supported by tanks, were across 76/258
the river at hardly any cost. The main casualty was Schweppenburg's injured pride: his petulant protests were loudly to be heard, both then and in after years when he complained about Guderian's interference. Schweppenburg, of course, was a disappointed man and jealous of Guderian, who had overtaken him in the race for promotion. Y.et he had little cause for complaint at his treatment on 1st September if he was absent at the crucial moment of decision and had failed to implement his Corps commander's orders.
Fear of Polish horsed cavalry on the part of his staff and by infantry officers bothered Guderian as he toured the battlefield in his endeavours to overcome the inhibiting fears of troops who were largely inexperienced and under fire for the first time. His disgust at a commander who felt compelled to withdraw at news of the presence of Polish cavalry makes entertaining reading: 'When I regained the use of my voice I asked the divisional commander if he had ever heard of Pomeranian grenadiers being broken by hostile cavalry.' There came an assurance that the positions would be held. And in due course it was his personal leadership in the van of the attack which sent the motorised infantry division into an attack towards Tuchel. This, the first twentyfour hours' experience of combat, was vital to the future self-confidence of the panzer force. Guderian, by his untiring efforts in supervising the establishment of both a technique of command at the front and also his own reputation for fearlessness and undeniable authority, where the fighting was heaviest, made success a certainty. Even if a few senior officers were bruised and disgruntled, the rest of his officers and men were deeply appreciative. All were impressed. It is after 1st September that one begins to detect that look of frank adulation on the faces of soldiers when they were photographed talking to Guderian. Resistance by the Poles was, in fact, disjointed but usually fierce. The charge by the Pomorska Cavalry Brigade against 3rd Panzer Division's tanks was but one of many gallant but quite fruit-
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less attempts to redeem disaster. Polish deployment had been wrecked by air attacks upon communication centres. German tanks were exploiting that disruption by almost unchecked advances, blazing away at those enemy columns they caught on the roads, helping infantry and engineers in their assaults upon fortifications, moving cross-country in sweeping, outflanking attacks whenever the natural line of advance was blocked. Always they were on the move and thoroughly self-sufficient within the organisation of the all-arms panzer division; only rarely were they very much assisted by bombing attacks because, primarily, the Luftwaffe was engaged against targets deep in the Polish rear and, secondly, the means of close liaison between ground and air forces was as yet in its infancy. This was not surprising: the Luftwaffe was only luke warm to direct support of the Army. The Air Field Manual No. 16 laid down that 'The mission of the Luftwaffe is to serve this purpose [the defeat of the enemy military forces as part of a process of breaking the will of the enemy] by conducting air warfare as part of the overall pattern for the conduct of the war'. And Generalleutnant Wolfram von Richthofen53, who had experimented with close air support of armies in Spain, and who, in due course, was to make his reputation as the commander of an air force which carried out the most effective and devastating operations by bombers in close support of Guderian's panzer divisions, was an opponent of the dive-bomber. Such difficulties as 3rd Panzer Division suffered were much more the outcome of failures in equipment and organisation than the result of the enemy's retaliation. The little Pz I tanks and also the Pz Us were far too thinly armoured to withstand even the light Polish field artillery and anti-tank gun fire. It was only the handful of Pz III and IV tanks, most of them manned for the sake of experience by the Panzer Demonstration training units, which produced a rare advantage. Supply problems were hampering too. On 2nd September Polish counter-attacks, which cut 3rd Panzer in two on the eastern bank of the Brahe, might have been more quickly contained had the tanks not been stalled for lack of fuel - the supply columns being deprived of adequate orders to send them forward in time to replenish the tanks after the first day of battle. Each inadequacy and breakdown was noted and, whenever possible within existing resources, put right on the spot by Nehring and his staff at Corps HQ or by the divisional and lower staffs when there came a lull in the fighting after the collapse of Polish resistance in the Corridor on 5th September. The bearer of victory was Guderian's Corps which had sealed off the major Polish formations and made it impossible for them to break the cordon. Thus armoured troops had done all that Guderian claimed for them - broken through in a direct assault, carried out a pursuit and held vital ground under enemy pressure - and they had done these things at that lightning pace which he insisted was essential. Recounting the first day's fighting in a letter to Gretel on 4th September he cheered at his successes, mourned the dead and gave credit to the foe. 'Series losses occurred at Gross-Klonia where a tank company lost one officer, one officer cadet and eight men due to the sudden lifting of the morning mist [despite bombing, the Polish artillery often fought to the end]. At the decisive point I exerted myself personally with success inorder to overcome a slight set-back. The 3rd Panzer Division was the first to reach its objective in the night. The others were unable to push back the hard-fighting Poles quite so quickly . . . though fighting in woodland area with, here and there, heavy losses. With the deployment of a further infantry division and after some crises in heavy fighting, we succeeded in encircling completely the opposing enemy in the woods north of Schwetz to the west. On the 4th the encirclement was tightened. Several thousand prisoners, light and heavy batteries and much material was captured . . . Lively small skirmishes will continue for a while in the large woods as many scattered troops are still roaming about. The troops fought brilliantly and are in an excellent frame of mind.' Then followed the names of officers who had fallen and a mention of his delight at meeting their younger son, Kurt, at a point 'from where one can see the towers of Kulm', his own birthplace. Already Gretel had caught the excitement of his mood and on the 5th she had written: 'I know that my men are the best soldiers. May God send them back to me with Victory - that Germany may live and at last find peace ... I am burning to know where and how your troops are victorious ... I followed your hard work and strife: now may God give you undisputed success.' A momentous occasion for Guderian was his opportunity on 5th September to conduct Hitler, Himmler and their entourage round the battlefield - the party shepherded along by an officer 78/258
who had once commanded the 10th Jagers - Erwin Rommel, in his capacity as Commander of Hitler's headquarters in the field.
For the first time the Fiihrer was given a partial insight into the essentials of modern war. Some of his illusions were shattered, but the educational process was superficial - as time would show. 79/258
Yet there is vast significance in his question to Guderian concerning the sight of shattered Polish artillery: 'Our dive-bombers did that?' and Guderian's emphatic and proud reply, 'No! Our panzers!' At that moment it was faintly born upon Hitler, along with Guderian's announcement of a mere 150 dead in his entire Corps, that the truly dominant weapon on land might be the tank force. Up to then he had been enslaved by Goring's claim for the omnipotence of air power. Now he was shown that tanks were an ubiquitous, life-saving weapon and that airpower had its limitations. And the rapid advance of the other armoured formations to the gates of Warsaw and through the mountains in the south told the same story, leaving nobody of balanced judgement in any doubt that, even in unfavourable territory, panzer divisions could make a decisive impression. But the campaign, though won, was far from over. Next day XIX Corps was sent across the Vistula and transported through East Prussia, close to Bartenstein, to concentrate on the left wing of the German Army as it prepared to drive south towards Brest Litovsk. This provided an opportunity for the Corps Commander to relax while his staff did the donkey work, and it was part of Guderian's make-up that he could do so - in style. On the night of the 6th he slept in the bed which once had been used by Napoleon in Finkenstein Castle: with amused vanity he relished the privilege. The following night, while his troops drove up for action, he went deer shooting and bagged a large twelve-pointer. Fortunate the staff which has such a trusting commander. Within a few hours he was planning again, receiving his orders from Bock and negotiating for alterations so that his Corps, now strengthened by the substitution of 10th Panzer Division for 2nd Motorised Division, should be left free to make full use of its immense striking power. The initial scheme put forward by OKH to von Bock's Army Group North on the 4/5th September was anything but productive of wide-ranging, fast panzer attacks. XIX Corps was to be kept in close attendance of Third Army and held back at infantry speed. Moreover the fear of strong intervention by the French in the West (the fact that it had not yet taken place after the Anglo-French declaration of war on 3rd September was the cause of some amazement) deterred OKH from committing major forces too far east when it appreciated that, already, the Poles were broken. Incursions east of a line Ostrow Mazowiecka - Warsaw were forbidden. Bock, whose concept of mobile operations was acute, protested without avail long before Guderian was told of the restrictions and had the chance to add his own vehement objections to Bock on 8th September. But on the 8th it suddenly transpired that Army Group South had not, after all, captured Warsaw: nor had it crossed the Vistula as it had claimed. In fact, 4th Panzer Division had taken a hammering, with the loss of 57 out of 120 tanks, as it tried to break into the city, and there were signs of a major Polish counter-offensive opening along the River Bzura to the west. In these changed circumstances Bock now obtained permission to use XIX Corps to wider and better effect, bringing it under direct command on the left of Third Army and aiming it against Brest Litovsk, far to the east and rear of Warsaw. While Rundstedt and Man,stein were preparing for a tactical envelopment on the Bzura, Guderian was given the opportunity he yearned for - a strategic envelopment from north to south with massed panzers. Already XXI Corps had begun to push across the River Narew against the sternly resisting Polish Narew Group and was aided initially by the presence of 10th Panzer Division. But the moment that division was withdrawn from command and switched to the left flank where XIX Corps was being pushed through by Guderian, the impetus of XXI Corps' operations was lost. Here, as elsewhere, infantry unsupported by armour had a rough ride against a determined enemy - and this applied equally to 10th Panzer's infantry regiment. Last-minute changes of plan also caused confusion in XIX Corps whose inexperienced troops as yet lacked a common method of operation. Moreover unsubstantiated reports by the leading troops, which claimed advances that had not yet taken place, gave a false impression and caused the operation to be launched in a haphazard manner. It was the same in 10th Panzer as it had been with 3rd Panzer on the first day: local commanders were too far to the rear to enable them to both understand and have control over the situation: operations ground to a halt for lack of leadership. While the tanks remained on the home bank of the river, awaiting ferries or the construction of a bridge, the infantry were held up, and not until 1800 hrs on the 9th were a sufficient number of tanks across to join the infantry in an attack which was immediately successful. Guderian was on the spot, urging on the at80/258
tack and ordering the building of bridges that would carry the tanks next day. Again there was confusionÂŤafter he had left the front and returned to his main headquarters for the routine evening exchange of views and orders with Nehring. During the night the commander of 20th Motorised Division, which was under orders to cross the river on the right of 10th Panzer, demanded and received the bridges which Guderian intended for use by the tanks. Progress was made only slowly against extremely stiff resistance from the 18th Polish Infantry Division which had already given XXI Corps a rough handling and now was withdrawing southward. It was 20th Motorised Division's turn to grapple with 18th Division while the two panzer divisions began their drive towards the River Bug. Immediately the dangers to unarmoured troops in maintaining a deep penetration were exposed. 20th Motorised Division called for help almost at once, and 10th Panzer had to be diverted to their assistance. Meanwhile 3rd Panzer Division, moving into the lead on the left flank, felt itself in danger from the remains of the Narew Group and the Podlaska Cavalry Brigade which lurked on the left flank and rear from the vicinity of Grodno and Bialystok. Guderian ignores this threat in Panzer Leader, but the War Diary (KTB) of XIX Corps does not make light of it. Nehring realised the threat and, moreover, on the night of the lOth/llth was prevented with Main Headquarters from joining Guderian because Polish troops had cut the road. Rightly Guderian admits to moving the headquarters prematurely over the Narew: there was no need since the radio sets were well within range of each other and a headquarter's effectiveness is reduced each time it makes a move. Furthermore the perils of a roving commander in the forefront of the battle were enunciated at this moment of maximum Polish reaction. That day Guderian himself was cut off and had to be rescued by motor-cyclists, and on the 12th the commander of 2nd Motorised Division, travelling ahead of his formation on reversion to Guderian's Command, was cut off for several hours by Polish troops. These were the penalties of over-confidence allied to a failure to realise that, within the confines of a grapple when the enemy was present in strength, the major portion of panzer divisions was every bit as vulnerable as other troops and that the comparative safety inherent in vast movement was nullified until conditions of untrammelled mobility had been created. These conditions were fully satisfied on 13th September when 18th Polish Division surrendered. OKH now took advantage of XIX Corps' location deep among the enemy in the east to make use of it as a flank guard to the rest of the forces to the westward, and began to reinforce it by XXI Corps against the threat of flank attack from the forests to the east. Complex traffic control problems immediately arose, not only those caused by XIX Corps' immense train of motor vehicles pouring from north to south along the inadequate road system towards Brest Litovsk, but also in passing XXI Corps' slower moving, horse drawn transport from west to east across the XIX Corps' axis. It said much for the system of traffic control which had been devised before the war, and the understanding among the staff, that this operation was actuated with a minimum of confusion. XIX Corps ran free and arrived at Brest Litovsk on the 14th, with its two panzer divisions leading and the motorised divisions echeloned back as flank protection on either wing. Speed was the essence of victory: at Zabinka the sudden arrival of 3rd Panzer Division caught Polish tanks in the act of detraining and destroyed them. The Polish garrison of Brest would not surrender and was well entrenched among the ancient fortifications. This provided yet another opportunity for Guderian to demonstrate his corps' versatility with a full-scale direct assault that lacked none of the power associated with heavily supported infantry forces in the past. Tanks, artillery and infantry from 10th Panzer and 20th Motorised Divisions were thrown into a deliberate attack on the 16th while 3rd Panzer and 2nd Motorised Divisions continued their advance to the south in pursuit of the Corps' mission. But if there was nothing to prevent a drive to the south, overcoming the defences of Brest was another matter. Resistance was fierce and accidentally stiffened when German artillery fire fell short among its own infantry. At this the infantry faltered and failed to follow close upon the heels of that part of a creeping barrage which was accurate. Next day the matter was settled, by mutual consent, the final German assault coinciding with a despairing Polish attempt to break out. This, as Guderian wrote, marked the end of the campaign. Isolated garrisons throughout the country would prolong the fight for the sake of honour, but the entry of Russian troops in eastern Poland eradicated any Polish hope there might have been of establishing a coherent defence in that re81/258
gion. In the closing phases was heard the mutter of yet another storm to come. On 15th September Bock decided to split XIX Corps in two, sending half north-eastward towards Slonin and the rest southeastward - a task which he estimated would take an infantry corps eight days to complete but which motorised troops could accomplish in a fraction of that time. To co-ordinate this operation with XXI Corps he introduced Kluge's Fourth Army. Hotly Guderian protested to Kluge at the splitting of his corps. It offended the principle of concentration which was sacred to his philosophy of armoured warfare and it would also, as he forcefully pointed out, make command and control almost impossible. Events precluded the movements, but at this moment was born a mistrust of Kluge that was to distinguish his dealing with that officer (and Bock) over the next five years. Yet it was these two who recommended him for the award of the Knight's Cross of the Iron Cross - an honour he deeply appreciated since'... it seemed to me to be primarily a vindication of my long struggle for the creation of the new armoured force'. It is equally likely that Bock and Kluge were motivated by immediate considerations and the reflected glory they would gather from Guderian's accomplishment. For he - and they - could claim a 200-mile advance in ten days against tough opposition for losses which were lower, in proportion, than those of the other groups. Since September 1st XIX Corps had suffered only 650 killed and 1,586 wounded and missing - a mere 4 per cent of its strength. Tank losses for the entire Army were 217 and the number of dead 8,000, of whom the vast majority were in the infantry and only 1,500 in Army Group North. There were matters which gave less cause for rejoicing in the aftermath. Guderian shared the soldiers' disappointment that Hitler's promise of an automatic withdrawal of opposition by the Western Powers once Poland was conquered, was not fulfilled, though he was hardly surprised. In his letter to Gretel on 4th September he had told her: 'In the meantime the political situation has developed in so far as a new world war is in the making. The whole affair will therefore last a long time and we must stiffen our necks'. Now they had to face an offensive campaign in the West at which they boggled and for which there was no plan. The redeployment of an army which had suffered heavy wear and tear in battle had to be swiftly implemented, initially as a defence measure against an expected French offensive which never came. At least half the tanks needed major workshop overhaul. In the haste of withdrawal from the sectors which were to be' turned over to the Russians, some equipment had to be abandoned, but the bulk of the Army (Guderian included) was spared the horror of watching the SS units at their deadly work of extermination in that part of Poland which Germany retained. Heinz-G端nther Guderian remained for two months, however, and records the 'deplorable impression' made by the Jewish ghettos in Warsaw and Lublin. The campaign's lessons should have been patently obvious, but although the Germans were avid in correcting relatively minor sins and omissions in their equipment, their methods and organisation, it was plain that the full meaning of their achievement in Poland eluded even their own commanders. At the heart of misunderstanding was a universal belief that the Poles never had a chance, that the might of Germany was certain to prevail against an inferior opponent - as well it might in course of time. Such a belief suited the adjusted arguments put forward by opposing factions. The panzer men claimed everything for themselves, as did some airmen. But whereas history tells us that the latter played an important role within the broadest concept of air power as an instrument of force, it also reminds us that only land forces seize ground. That was what the panzer troops did with such speed and effectiveness that Polish resistance never had a chance of adjusting itself to changed circumstances. It was upon the infantry that the higher German leadership, for a variety of reasons, heaped recrimination. It was said that they had failed to fight with the fervour of their forefathers and it could be inferred that, if the Army had gone to war with the horse and foot organisation Beck had preferred, execution of the campaign might have been so slow as to preclude a decision in time to pre-empt an irresistible offensive in the West. Hence it could be argued that, if Guderian had not engineered the panzer idea against the opposition of the majority, the war would not have been practicable. Few so argued, but Hitler had drawn his own conclusions. As it was, Bock severely critised the performance of the infantry divisions (as part of an effort to restore their sense of purpose) coupled with a complaint that the artillery was immobile and far 82/258
too slow in deploying its fire. Henceforward he demanded that the artillery must not delay the infantry and, moreover, should be capable of giving direct support from the front line. This was merely a reiteration of Guderian's early arguments in favour of the tank. Manstein went further: tracked, motorised assault guns were required, he said. So it was that, as the inadequate Pz I tanks were gradually withdrawn from front-line service, they were rebuilt and fitted with larger guns of Czech origin, mounted, for limited traverse only, behind armour. With none of these things could Guderian seriously quarrel, even though he resisted digressions from the turretted tank because they were, in his opinion, retrograde steps. He felt the tanks had stood up well against the Polish tanks - many of which were better armed than his own - and so he sought increases in the fire-power and armament of German tanks and expressed dissatisfaction with the standard of command at the lower levels. The Light Divisions, with their low tank content, had failed - as he expected they would - but with tank production reaching 125 per month and good Czech equipment becoming available it was now possible to up-grade these divisions to full panzer specifications.
At the same time it was quite easy to resist a bizarre bid by the Cavalry to increase their establishment, even though horsed formations had amply demonstrated their terrible vulnerability in the late campaign. Yet the 'Great Manoeuvres' in Poland had not seriously altered the fundamental objections to all that Guderian stood for. All Guderian could do was recommend. He was without direct power since the post of 'Chief of Mobile Troops' had been dissolved - unmourned - upon the outbreak of war when the representation of panzer interests had been transferred to the Commander of the Replacement Army - a somewhat anti-panzer officer called Generaloberst 54 Fritz Fromm. In Guderian's opinion the personalities who were made responsible for panzer matters were 'not always in concert with the importance which the Panzer Command enjoys in modern war'. Nevertheless, if educated German military specialists were unwilling to come to terms with the changes which had been wrought upon the art of war as the result of Hitler's 'little war' in Poland- and there is ample evidence in support of Guderian's contention- an incredulous and ill-informed world was even less 83/258
likely to do so. Though the major military powers, particularly Germany's neighbours, realised that tanks and aircraft had played a vital role in the Polish debacle, they tended to minimise their effects on the grounds that this had been an unfair test against an impotent victim. Nothing such as had happened in Poland could possibly take place against France, it was argued. They would not long be left in doubt, if Hitler had his way, for Hitler was uplifted by success and this reinforcement of his self-confidence. He had seen the magic of his new weapons work: they were better than a bluff. No sooner had the dust from Poland settled than the Fiihrer was giving the order, on 27th September, to prepare for an early invasion of Western Europe, a project which so alarmed some German officers, who rejected its feasibility let alone the attendant risk of really starting a Second World War, that they reactivated the project to assassinate Hitler. Among these dissidents were Hammerstein, Beck and a few civilians.
Guderian was not among the plotters - he might well have been the last they thought to invite but he was far from content with the condition of Army affairs in addition to his worries about the state of the armoured forces. In October, at table, he had sensed what he took to be the Fuhrer's mood after the presentation of his Knight's Cross 55. Seated upon Hitler's right hand he gave a soldier's reply to Hitler's request for Guderian's reactions when the Soviet Pact was announced in August; he said that it had given him a sense of security since it reduced the likelihood of a two-front war such as proved Germany's undoing in the First World War. In Panzer Leader he expressed surprise that Hitler should look at him in amazement and displeasure, and says that only later did he come to understand Hitler's intense hatred of Soviet Russia. It is possible that Guderian's reply actually pleased the F端hrer, who had come to believe that most of his generals were whole-heartedly against the war and therefore against the Pact: it may have en84/258
couraged him to find one among the few who recognised the wisdom of his diplomacy and who did not flinch from fighting. But Guderian, unlike so many of his fellow professionals, had come to believe in Germany's power to win battles and, in conversation, transmitted that conviction on the eve of the next round. 56 For November 12th was the date chosen for the invasion of the West and the dissident generals had worked upon Brauchitsch and Haider to stand firm against what seemed, to them, a fatal step.' On November 5th Brauchitsch presented the case against invasion to Hitler, quoting the weather as a prime reason for postponement - an argument with which Guderian would have concurred because the mud produced by so much heavy rain would stop, or at least slow, the tanks. But Brauchitsch also threw doubt upon the fighting qualities of the infantry and this drove Hitler to fury. The Army Commander-in-Chief became a target for a vitriolic attack both upon his own integrity and that of the entire General Staff. At the height of his tirade, according to Goerlitz, he told Brauchitsch that he knew the generals were planning ' something more than the offensive he had ordered', an accidental shot in the dark which shook Brauchitsch to the roots. A thoroughly demoralised C-in-C went back to his Chief of Staff and tendered his resignation to Hitler. This, as Supreme Commander of the Wehrmacht, Hitler refused to accept. In much the same way, too, he brushed aside Keitel's offer to resign when he detected the flight of his F端hrer's confidence. Discipline was reasserted. The plot had to be called-off by the dissidents, of course. Not only did it seem possible that they were discovered, but neither Brauchitsch nor Haider were prepared to resist further, and without them there could be no progress. The postponement, on the 7th, of the offensive was almost incidental - the first of many deferments which were to recur at regular intervals throughout the winter. On 23rd November Hitler felt provoked into reading his commanders a sharp lecture and left them in no doubt, as Guderian (who was there) put it, that, 'The Luftwaffe generals, under the purposeful leadership of party comrade Goring, are entirely reliable; the admirals can be trusted to follow the Hitlerite line; but the Party cannot place unconditional trust in the good faith of the Army generals'. At this time Guderian and his XIX Corps were concentrated near Koblenz and under command of von Rundstedt's Army Group A in readiness for the invasion. It was to Rundstedt's Chief of Staff, his old friend Manstein, to whom Guderian first turned for consultation upon this matter which touched them all so deeply. Manstein agreed that something should be done but Rundstedt would not move in a positive manner - he kept to the letter of his oath. The same attitude he found among the other generals he consulted in his efforts to organise a protest. Finally he visited Reichenau who suggested that Guderian himself should speak to Hitler, and it was he who arranged an audience. The record of that meeting is Guderian's alone 57 and is in the character of a man who cherished the Army's honour above all else, besides being the possessor of a quite unquenchable spirit of aggression when posed with a problem which struck at the heart of his beliefs. Guderian's correspondence leaves no doubt that the meeting took place and, if his account is true, contradicts Wheeler-Bennett's claim that 'Not a voice was raised in criticism or even in comment', although it must be remembered, as Wheeler-Bennett remarks, that the main body of the Fvihrer's lecture gave rise to a wave of enthusiasm. Guderian says he was closeted with Hitler for an hour in which time he put the case for the generals and the plea that somebody had to speak out after the F端hrer told the Army generals that he did not trust them. In return Hitler blamed it all on the C-in-C, to which Guderian responded: 'If you feel you cannot trust the present C-in-C of the Army then you must get rid of him . . .' But after Hitler had asked him to name a suitable successor and Guderian had failed to suggest a single acceptable candidate from the top men, the soldier fell silent. Now occurred the first of those increasingly recurrent scenes in which Hitler deemed it profitable to spend thirty minutes or more trying to convince a general whom he regarded as different and, perhaps, more sympathetic than the rest. There poured out a long diatribe in castigation of the generals and their resistance to Hitler's wishes over the preceding years but, in the end, nothing constructive to settle the problem in the way that Guderian would have wished. The broken and pliable Brauchitsch remained as C-in-C and the schism widened between Hitler and OKW on the one hand and with the General Staff and OKH on the other. It is significant that 85/258
Hitler should have felt the need to convince Guderian. Perhaps he felt that Guderian, because of his 'modern' outlook and personal struggle against the Army hierarchy, had a closer affinity with Nazi ideology than most Prussian military leaders (in a way he could have been right even though Guderian was no Nazi). Maybe he hoped to recruit another sycophant who one day, like Keitel, would supplant the recalcitrant members of OKH: if that is so he was hopelessly misled, for Guderian was incapable of sycophancy. Possibly he simply hoped to foster Guderian's goodwill as that of key leader of the Army's most potent striking force on the eve of the most testing campaign - but, in practice, he was to show that he had still not fully comprehended the meaning of the panzer divisions. It is more likely that a combination of all three motivations, plus several more of typically devious Hitlerian ingenuity, persuaded Hitler in an attempt to win the support of Germany's most controversial operational commander. Perhaps he wished to evaluate Guderian as a potential Commander-in-Chief. Guderian had demonstrated, as had several of his comrades, the absurdity of Seeckt's demand that the Army should stay out of politics. He actually played an important part in thrusting it deeper - if unwittingly and against its will - into the political field. If he believed, as sometimes it is said he did, in political detachment, it is merely another example of his blindness to reality. This isolated him from those with whom he was destined to collaborate and created the divergences of view which were fundamental to his effectiveness as a leader. For Guderian was a target for the German generals' distaste when they had the opportunity. Angrily he wrote to Gretel on 21st January 1940: 'The recent evening with Herr v R [Rundstedt] began quite pleasantly and ended with a debate started by him and Busch [Generaloberst Ernst Busch the commander of Sixteenth Army] about the Panzertruppe. It was a debate which I thought impossible in its lack of understanding and, in part, even hatefulness after the Polish campaign. I went home deeply disappointed. These people will never see me again. It is completely fruitless ever to expect anything from this wellknown group of "comrades". To these people can be traced back the reason for our irreplaceable equipment standing immobile out of doors for months on end to perish in the extreme cold. The damage arising from this is inconceivable. 'Apart from this great annoyance I have that evening contracted a nasty infection and am suffering from catarrh and a cold of the most evil kind. And we continue to wait . . .'I have a lot to do for the next fortnight with regard to training courses. But everything suffers on account of the bad training facilities. Had they only left us at our depots! But that cannot be put right now. 'It freezes, it is snowing. The big brook carries floating ice. It is mostly cloudy and dull. The months pass and what remains is a big question mark.' Gretel probably smiled compassionately when she received that letter, knowing that a sick and despondent husband would recover and eventually forgive his tormentors. Forgiveness came easily to him on this occasion, as it happened, for on llth February he could happily report to Gretel after a meeting at which the future campaign was discussed as a 'war game': 'Apparently von R himself has the feeling that I was right to defend myself recently. At the meeting he was kindness itself. . .' It mattered less that, in the same letter, he could complain: 'I suffer from loneliness because I constantly meet strangers to whom I cannot speak freely - and so one talks banalities and what is closest to the heart remains unsaid.' But this was the end of the period of isolation. Rundstedt's change of mood marked a change in the fortunes of the creator of the Panzertruppe, for the plans they had discussed were the ones that Hitler favoured and which Guderian recognised as the revelation of a dream. Nevertheless the fluctuation of sympathy towards Guderian among the German generals acted as a barometer which pointed to the climate of opinion of the Germans - not only towards the controversial subject of tank warfare but also with regard to Hitler's grasp upon a war situation. As a politician Hitler had secured his position but his pretensions as a 'military genius' were as yet hardly suspected. Guderian held out a key that might unlock the door to a military revolution by destroying the orthodox armies of a previous decade. At the same time he could help prove the prowess of the amateur Supreme Commander as the equal of professional soldiers. Much more than the issue of one campaign hinged upon the plan to invade Western Europe.
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The Green Light through France Without a plan and lacking much time to make one, since Hitler demanded its execution on 12th November, the German General Staff went to work on 28th September preparing an invasion of the West. But since, from the outset, Brauchitsch and Haider had little faith in the feasibility of their task, it is hardly surprising that the product of their deliberations lacked inspiration. It was essential, they reasoned, to outflank the Maginot Line which guarded the French frontier between the Swiss frontier to Longwy, south of Arlon, where the man-made defences merged with the allegedly strong natural defensive terrain of the Ardennes. Indisputably, they decided, the main effort should be made north of the Ardennes, in the general direction of Namur while, concurrently, Holland was subdued on the extreme right flank. Left flank protection could be obtained by pushing a relatively strong force through the Ardennes to reach the River Meuse between Givet and Sedan. This was the basis of the plan which was to suffer persistent postponement until, on 10th January 1940, it appeared to be compromised when a German staff officer's aeroplane carrying its details made a false landing in Belgium.
Victory in the West 1940 In Operation 'Yellow', Army Groups 'A' and 'B' with Luftwaffe support, smash across the Meuse and in ten days outmanoeuvre the Western Allies whose armies, including a British Expeditionary Force of nine divisions, serve a French commander-in-chief - General Gamelin, replaced 19
May 1940 by General Weygand. Schmidt and Hoepner (Fourth Panzer Army) 10 May with two panzer corps (1) and (2) allotted to Army Group 'B', lead a decoy offensive into Holland and Belgium where airborne operations 87/258
under General Kurt Student aim to reduce key defences astride the Army Group axis of advance. Von Kleist and subordinate Guderian (First and Second Panzer Armies) 13 May attack west across the Meuse at Sedan-Montherme (4), (5), (6) initiating the main armoured movement of Operation 'Yellow' - a westward thrust by two panzer and one motorized infantry corps under Panzer Group von Kleist (K) - the vanguard of Army Group 'A'. See also Panzer break-through, France (map 4). Von Kleist leads German Twelfth Army (List), but under pressure from superior headquarters, limits subordinates to a narrow range of action. Despite this, the panzer group pushes ahead until Hitler's nervousness at the danger to the resulting panzer 'corridor' and technical considerations finally halts the armour. Hoth (Third Panzer Army) 13 May starting from a Meuse crossing at Dinant - (3) - also strikes west, reinforcing von Kleist. A total of ten panzer divisions, six and two-thirds motorized infantry divisions support Army Groups 'A' and 'B'. The panzer force is swiftly regrouped for phase two of the battle - Operation 'Red'* commencing 5 June 1940. Schmidt (1) XXXIX PzK: 9th PzDiv; SS Verfugungs Div; After 13 May LSSAH Hoepner(2) XVI PzK: 3rd, 4th PzDivs; 20th InfDivMot; SS Totenkopf Hoth (3) XV PzK: 5th PzDiv; 7th PzDiv (K) Reinhardt (4) XXXXI PzK: 6th PzDiv; 8th PzDiv (K) Guderian (5) XIX PzK: 1st PzDiv; 2nd PzDiv; 10th PzDiv; Inf Regt Mot-Gross Deutschland (K) Von Wietersheim (6) XIV MotK: 2nd, 13th, 29th InfDivs Mot "Hoth (7) XV PzK: 5th, 7th PzDivs; 2nd InfDiv Mot *Von Kleist Gr (8) XIV PzK von Wietersheim: 9th, 10th PzDivs; 13th Inf Div Mot, SS Verfugungs Div, InfReg Mot-Gross Deutschland. After 12 June SS Totenkopf Div XVI PzK Hoepner: 3rd, 4th PzDivs; Reserve LSSAH 'Guderian Gr (9) XXXIX PzK Schmidt: 1st, 2nd PzDivs; 29th InfDiv Mot XXXXI PzK Reinhardt: 6th, 8th PzDivs; 20th InfDiv Mot German Army Von Brauchitsch: 120 infantry divs, 162/3 mobile divs, 2,574 tanks A Grs 'A', 'B' Von Runstedt 45V3 divisions; von Bock 29 1/3 divisions Luftwaffe Kesselring 2nd Air Fleet-A Gr 'B'; Sperrle 3rd Air Fleet-A Gr 'A': 2,750 aircraft (In fact, the papers were burnt before capture and little was disclosed.) Long before January the plan had come under piercing criticism. Manstein complained that it was unlikely to achieve complete victory since it could not bring about the total destruction of the enemy's northern wing and failed to create a favourable strategic situation from which to launch subsidiary thrusts: in essence it lacked penetration and versatility. He realised that an invasion must achieve all - quickly - since failure to do so would condemn Germany to a protracted war she could not sustain. He desired an annihilating encirclement such as the elder Moltke used to demand, that the younger Moltke had sought and missed, and which he and Rundstedt had recently achieved in Poland. Hitler also was dissatisfied with the plan, though his strategic insight was that of a tyro compared with Manstein's. On 25th October - before Manstein had seen the OKH plan - he had suggested that the drive through the Ardennes might be enlarged by aiming the main attack across the southern Meuse and then extending it towards Amiens to the Channel coast with the intention of cutting off a large portion of the enemy. On the 31st, quite independently of Hitler, Rundstedt sent OKH a reasoned project which looked remarkably similar to the one Hitler had conjured out of a dream. This brought Guderian into the debate as the acknowledged expert whose qualifications in the tank sphere were far superior to those of Brauchitsch, Haider and the rest. For, despite the sniping which still went on among underlings against the Panzertruppe, nobody in supreme command doubted that the coming invasion would depend upon aircraft and tanks. Indeed, the principal reasons for the postponements were fear that aircraft could not fly in bad weather and that the tanks would bog down in the winter mud. After Hitler mentioned his idea to Jodl on 9th November, Jodl discussed it with Wilhelm Keitel, and KeiteL called Guderian into consultation on the feasibility of passing strong tank forces through the Ardennes. Guderian omits mention of 88/258
this in Panzer Leader and only writes of a similar discussion with Manstein in the latter half of November - by which time he had had the time to calculate the demands in terms of forces needed for the project. No doubt recalling his close experience of the Ardennes during the hectic days of 1914 and his sojourn at Sedan during the staff course in 1918, he had confidently informed Keitel that panzer divisions could be sent through the Ardennes. But on llth November, when told that his own XIX Corps might be the leading formation in a drive for Sedan, he insisted that the two panzer and single motorised divisions proposed were quite insufficient for the task. Later still, when faced with a searching examination by Manstein, as the latter developed his more ambitious scheme, he expanded still further his own requirements: now he bid for seven mobile divisions in the van.
As the winter advanced Manstein became ever more urgent in his memorandums and personal pleas to OKH until at last they rid themselves of this insistent Staff Officer by appointing him to command of an infantry corps. Nevertheless OKH opinion was veering. The January war games conducted by Rundstedt demonstrated the potentiality of a blow against Sedan at the joint between the strong northern flank and its weaker extension along the Meuse, though Guderian's insistence that the panzer divisions should lead the attack into the Ardennes, execute the river crossing and also spearhead the advance deep into France, was treated with outright scepticism if not scorn. (The bitter Herrenabend had reflected the nadir of his part in the argument; it was from that moment that he began to stamp his personality on the victory to come.) Haider insisted that the infantry divisions must catch up at the Meuse since they alone would have the power to perform a major obstacle crossing operation against prepared positions. He said that Guderian's intentions were 'senseless' and he was supported by Rundstedt. Guderian stood firm 89/258
and contradicted them both, reasoning in favour of a surprise stroke in mass, '. . . to drive a wedge so deep and wide that we need not worry about our flanks . . .' Support appeared from some of the other generals. Haider began to waver. Then Manstein, during a routine interview with Hitler on 17th February, took the opportunity to describe his plan in person. At once Hitler was re-enthused and next day told Brauchitsch and Haider - as if it was his own idea - that this was what he wanted.
There was no further delay, A new plan appeared in which the full weight of the assault was to be thrown into the Ardennes leaving only a single panzer division (9th in XXXIX Corps) committed to Holland, and two more (3rd and 4th in XVI Corps) temporarily leading the initial thrust against Belgium to the north of Namur. Moving across the northern face of the Ardennes, XV Corps, with 5th and 7th Panzer Divisions, was to tackle the Meuse near Dinant, thus covering the northern flank of General der Panzertruppe Georg-Hans Reinhardt's 58 XXXXI Corps. The offensive's Schwerpunkt was to consist of a special Panzer Group under General der Kavalerie Ewald von Kleist, comprising XXXXI Corps, Guderian's XIX Corps and Wietersheim's XIV Corps, placed within Generaloberst Siegmund List's Twelfth Army which in turn came under Rundstedt's Army Group 'A'. Reinhardt was given 6th and 8th Panzer Divisions only, but Guderian, upon whom all hopes were pinned, had 1st, 2nd and 10th Panzer Divisions plus the crack motorised Infantry Regiment Grossdeutschland. The armoured strength of Kleist's Group would thus amount to about 1,260 tanks (with a larger share of Pz Ills and IVs plus the first Schiitzenpanzers) out of a total German tank availability, on the day of assault (10th May), of about 2,800. But, in addition, priority of air support was promised during the advance to the Meuse, along with a massed bombing attack during the actual river crossing operation. This obviated the need to push heavy artillery and the attendant road-cluttering ammunition columns along tortuous routes which were to be filled by the fully motorised mobile corps. As the hard winter gave way to a cheering spring and the Wehrmacht opened the campaigning 90/258
season with the swift subjugation of Denmark and Norway, Guderian and the.rest became absorbed by training and planning. Map exercises predominated since, although tank crews spent a few nights practising driving along difficult country lanes, shortage of fuel precluded intensive rehearsal. Due to shortage of ammunition some tank crews never once fired their guns, though the artillery, including the long 88mm anti-aircraft guns, were given considerable practice in direct fire at small targets, such as pill-box slits, in addition to their orthodox role. Over and again infantry and engineers rehearsed the techniques of an assault river crossing in rubber boats, and then the tank ferrying and bridging operations that must follow once the infantry had secured a foothold on the enemy bank. The training on the River Moselle was notably realistic since its approaches were so like those of the Meuse. 59 Tirelessly Guderian travelled from one exercise to another, goading his men to more intensive activity, analysing faults in their methods, synthesizing each lesson and feeding fresh ideas through Nehring and his staff for dissemination throughout XIX Corps and, indirectly, to the other panzer formations whose prospects were constantly in his thoughts.60 For though Guderian gave most attention to his own corps, he never forgot the welfare of the entire armoured force. All ranks came to recognise and value the bustling general with the eager look bearing down upon them with purposeful questions, terse comments and shrewd assessments of their performance. Der Schnelle Heinz enfolded them all with the stern but fair fatherly spirit which he lavished upon his own family. Those who survive have affectionate and enduring memories of him and his catch phrases that the privileged among them loved to throw back at him - Klotzen, nicht Kleckern (which can be translated in all sorts of ways but means 'Don't feel with the fingers but hit with the fist') and 'Joy riding in canoes on the Meuse is forbidden' are but two. It amounted to a feeling of absolute mutual confidence, the essence of outstanding leadership.
How much confidence did Guderian himself repose in the prospects of the oncoming adventure - an enterprise which, at one time, had been as unthinkable to him as it still was to many of his
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contemporaries? He says in Panzer Leader that French reticence to take advantage of German preoccupation in Poland suggested over-caution on their part - but this was insufficient in rating them inept. Far more important was the knowledge that French strategic and tactical doctrine had dictated, certainly until September 1939, a mode of positional warfare waged at the pace of 1918. Though the French were thought to be superior in number of tanks (they and the British between them could actually assemble about 4,200) it could be assumed that these machines would neither be used at speed nor in mass, and that their scale of radios was low and under-implemented. Therefore they would be spread along the front and must be slow to react in a fastmoving situation.
This, Guderian felt sure, would prove fatal. He was aware, however, that many of the latest French tanks, the Somua S 35 and the heavy Char B, carried twice the armour of his Pz IVs and, in their 47mm gun, had a superior anti-armour weapon to any mounted in his own tanks. Thus, in a tank-versus-tank contest, his machines would be at a disadvantage and so too would the infantry whose only anti-tank gun was the same 37mm as carried by the Pz III. The use of field artillery along with' 88mm guns in the forefront of the battle, alone, would compensate for this deficiency - that and the ability to outfight the enemy by manoeuvring for his flanks and rear and defeating his armour by directing accurate fire at the smallest exposed weak-spots - a testing exercise for nervous gunlayers in the heat of battle. German knowledge of the enemy positions in the Ardennes and along the Meuse was quite comprehensive - and generally encouraging to them. They realised, from extensive reconnaissance by every possible means, that the defences were shallow and, in places, incomplete. Taken on balance there was good reason for Guderian to have confidence that superior, surprise handling of his armour could surmount shocked opposition in the good defensive country of the Ardennes and bounce a way across the Meuse before the enemy could recover from initial setbacks. His only recorded doubts before the action became related to fear for inadequate support from his superiors, though, to be fair to them, it has to be said that only a man of Guderian's conviction could have been happy with the prospects. Hitler was out of his depth in the realms of educated military thinking. Though his 'intuition' put him on the course that was to prove right, his fre92/258
quently expressed doubts often undermined his composure. Brauchitsch and Halder had vacillated so much at first, and become converts so late to the new scheme, that it was impossible to place solid trust in their consistency if a crisis arose.
List wanted infantry divisions to lead across the Meuse. Rundstedt had wavered and demon93/258
strated a lack of tank appreciation by declining to consider deep penetration beyond a Meuse bridgehead. Kleist had no experience of armour though his cavalryman's instinct for movement and his recognition of opportunities were by no means dim. Busch did not think Guderian would manage to cross the Meuse at all, while Bock, whose Army Group in the north had been deprived of the original dominant role prescribed in the first plan, spoke for a majority with reasoned objections (by conventional standards) when he told Halder: 'You will be creeping along, ten miles from the Maginot Line flank on your breakthrough, and hoping that the French will watch inertly! You are cramming the mass of tanks together into the narrow roads of the Ardennes as if there were no such thing as air power. And you then hope to lead an operation as far as the coast with an open southern flank 200 miles long where stands the mass of the French Army!'
There Bock went wrong, for sufficient intelligence of Allied intentions in the event of an invasion of Holland and Belgium had been gathered throughout the winter months to make it almost certain that the mass of Allied armies would move forward into Belgium and thus create a vacuum in the open space Panzer Group Kleist 61 was to enter. Yet it is interesting that Guderian once called the advance via Amiens to Abbeville a raid. Perhaps it was the careless use of a word: maybe it reflected uncertainty of the final outcome and he was prepared to backpedal if necessary - mentally he was as flexibly attuned to retrograde panzer movements as to progressive ones, as the Supreme Command would one day learn. In a mood which reflects repose, and certainly not bombast or over-confidence, he sent his feel94/258
ings to Gretel as his headquarters got ready to advance: 'Your guess was right. I now say farewell to you. We have strenuous days ahead of us and I don't know when I will have a chance to write again. I would like to have said farewell in person. Now it has to be done by means of an insipid piece of paper and all my tenderness remains unspoken and undone. The last beautiful leave is still fresh in my mind and even a short repetition would have been a blessing, but it was not to be. Great activity is developing in the beautiful spring countryside, but it is not in harmony with the splendour of the blossom and so, despite all the confidence, one is filled with a gentle sadness. Your thoughts will now speed increasingly to our boys and I wish and hope with you that you may hold them safe and sound again in your arms after the victorious campaign. We must now direct our thoughts towards our task. Everything else, therefore, must take second place ... I have left my comfortable quarters and will move forward tonight... If a big success materialises none of the discomfort will be of account.' 62 Stretching back a hundred miles from head to tail XV, XXXXI and XIX Corps began to wend their way from woodland hiding places down the roads leading across the frontier. Ahead the opposition, such as it was, fell to pieces under the impact of surprise: in places the defenders, quite literally, were caught napping by infiltrators dressed in civilian clothes who had previously entered the zone on the pretext of being 'tourists' and who neutralised as many demolition devices as possible and saved bridges and defiles from destruction. Working alongside the tank and infantry combat teams were the assault engineers whose job it was, expeditiously, to remove and demolish those road blocks which stood. Everywhere the advance flowed smoothly and to schedule. Halder called it a 'very good marching achievement'. Indeed the preliminary movements were largely a struggle by engi neers and logisticians to remove barriers and overcome the choking traffic jams which inevitably, at random moments, impeded Guderian's advance. The appearance of a screening French cavalry division (half in lorries and half in tanks), at the approaches to the River Semois caused only the slightest pause since it was soon swept away, artillery and all, in a brief skirmish. German tanks infiltrated much as they pleased and the terror they inspired was exaggerated by rumour into a dreadful spasm which passed from the mouths of stragglers and refugees of battle to the ears of uncommitted formations in flank and rear. Yet, on the German side, Kleist, the cavalryman, logically and loyally credited French horsemen with a prowess he contended ought to be theirs, and deflected 10th Panzer, squeezing it along Guderian's left flank, southward from its planned axis to counter a nebulous cavalry threat at Long-wy. Guderian protested vigorously against this 'detachment of one third of my force to meet a hypothetical threat' but compromised and shifted the division's axis in order to staunch Kleist's fears. But in this effort to placate a superior Guderian erred, for the diversion of 10th Panzer impinged upon its neighbour, 1st Panzer, which at that moment was XIX Corps' main striking force and preparing to cross the Semois. 1st Panzer then became entangled with 2nd Panzer further north and they in turn encroached into XXXXI Corps' sector, stalling 6th Panzer. Fortunately the enemy made no air attacks upon the snarled up columns, otherwise irreparable damage besides further chaos might have been caused. This was but the first and smallest of many vacillations to come from every level of command. These were the perfectly natural reactions to a quite unprecedented operation of war - classical examples of 'friction'. The battle for the Semois was settled before XIX Corps arrived, for the French were already in voluntary retirement to the Meuse. Infantry waded the river on the night of llth/12th May and the tanks crossed by fords at dawn. Nehring and Guderian established their headquarters in the comfortable Hotel Panorama with 'a splendid view over the valley of the Semois' and paid fpr their over-indulgence under an accurate enemy bombing attack which showered Guderian with glass and a lucky escape from a falling boar's head mounted on the wall above his desk. After that they tended to behave a little less ostentatiously and Guderian became surprisingly cautious. The old, undecided question of how and when to cross the Meuse cropped up and now demanded a firm answer. 1st Panzer Division, flanked on the left by the 10th, though a little in the air on the right because 2nd, due to its traffic problems, was falling behind, was within striking distance of the river. Kleist had by now overcome his doubts. Reports from the other fronts made it clear that the main allied armies had moved into Belgium. News of tank-versus-tank 95/258
skirmishing in the approaches to Hannut, between XVI Corps and the French Light Mechanised divisions (the nearest equivalent in the French Order of Battle to the panzer divisions), indicated a technical superiority on the German part. Though the French tanks were comfortably proof against German 37mm shot, their return fire was slow and inaccurate due to the poor layout of the fighting compartment. In French tanks the commander also laid and fired the gun: in German models the commander just commanded while another crew member aimed and fired the gun. Also the French spread their tanks over a wide and shallow frontage in accordance with their out-moded tactical methods while the Germans concentrated on attacking vital points in turn and defeated their opponents in detail. Kleist opted 'to attack at once, without wasting time'. Immediately and according to the War Game plan, OKW put two Air Corps at his disposal. But Guderian demurred because 2nd Panzer Division might not arrive in time to join the unified attack on a broad front which he felt was essential. In any case, time for the dissemination of orders was short. Kleist overruled Guderian. The incident was not without importance since it implies uncertainties in Guderian's mind, some of which might, as has been suggested by Alistair Home, have been implanted by the shock of the narrow escape from bombing. This is unlikely though it matches neatly with Fuller's ideas in 1918 that to bomb enemy headquarters might 'neutralise clear thinking'. It certainly indicates that, for all Guderian's criticism, Kleist possessed a clean grasp of panzer time and space potential. More shocks were to follow. On the return flight after the interview with Kleist, Guderian's pilot lost direction and nearly came down in the French lines. It was Guderian's quick recognition of their actual location-a throw back to the skills of 1915 when he flew on reconnaissance which saved them. Planning the assault over the Meuse was a classic example of mixed improvisation and General Staff foresight. Kleist's Group was to attack at 1600 hours on the 13th and to be preceded by an intensive artillery and air bombardment instead of helped by simultaneous air support as the troops began to cross the water. There was insufficient time for both the army and air force staffs to write and disseminate the necessary complex written orders for a formal river crossing, but Nehring recognised that the situation coincided so closely with that envisaged in a recent War Game that it was only necessary to reproduce the War Game's orders with times amended to a start at 1600 hours instead of, as originally, 1000. They went out from Corps at 0815 hours on the 13th, and those by 1st Panzer were issued at 1200 hours. The Air Force, faced with a similar communication problem, simply ignored Kleist's orders and proceeded with the predetermined plan that had been made with Guderian. But the Air Force was snug and intact at its bases whereas XIX Corps could not be sure that 2nd Panzer would arrive at the start line in time, while XXXXI Corps also was short of the river at daybreak. In other words, an intended simultaneous assault by five divisions could easily be reduced to a piecemeal incursion by two. Both corps were committed, in the event, to an opposed 'assault crossing of a major water obstacle on the run - the sort of operation which few commanders had welcomed in the past and at which many were to boggle in the future. Guderian did not have to be bombed in order to acquire a few reservations about the outcome of the next twenty-four hours! Though the battle for Sedan opened with 1st Panzer Division leading, it was, in actuality, to be an artillery and air engagement in which tanks took little part and infantry captured ground only after a duel with high explosives had been settled. The Germans were to find that not only were they prevented from crossing the river while French guns were in action, but that their own guns were at a disadvantage in the approaches to the river. For while Guderian allowed the conventional field units to employ the usual indirect fire, he demanded that Anti-Aircraft Regiment 102 should support the crossing 'for which purpose it is to commit its guns very far forward'. In effect he was asking the powerful 88mm anti-aircraft guns (of a type which one day would arm his heaviest tanks) to execute the direct fire role he envisaged for tanks, the reason being that this highly accurate gun of large calibre had a far deadlier effect against pin point targets than the smaller, less accurate tank guns of the day. This was the moment when a heavy tank or an armoured assault gun would have been useful, but only 55 of the latter were as yet in service (and mostly with Guderian) and they were equipped only with the same inaccurate 75mm guns as in 96/258
Panzer IV. Here and there French fire hindered the German deployment, but mostly it was restricted in order to conserve ammunition and in the conventional belief that it might be four to six days before the attack would come. At 1600 hours the first waves of bombers arrived-the heavies to carpet selected areas, the dive-bombers to swoop on individual gun-pits. In Poland this method had achieved only marginally good results because the Poles.were difficult to intimidate. Near Sedan, second-rate French divisions were unequal to the shock. Mostly the men went to ground, ran or were withdrawn upon receipt of supine orders from above. For five hours the bombing continued: with every minute that passed the French return fire slackened. Unsupported by artillery, front-line French infantry wavered while those who shot at the gathering German infantry, as they dragged their assault craft to the water's edge, were struck by 88mm fire that came straight through the pill-box embrasures. As evening encroached the German infantry gained a first foothold and began to work their way inland. Throughout the night the work of constructing tank ferries and bridges would go on but the first tank would not be across until dawn. In the meantime Guderian boated across himself to be met by his old comrade, the exultant commander of 1st Rifle Regiment, Oberstleutnant Hermann Balck, with a ribald reproof for 'joy riding in canoes on the Meuse', and the news that a bridgehead was secure. Balck needed no reminding that Guderian wished them to go on advancing all night: each German was well rehearsed. By daybreak 1st Rifle Regiment and the Grossdeutschland Regiment on his left had formed a bridgehead that was three miles wide and six deep as reproof to Guderian for a previous, galling remark that infantry'. . . slept instead of advancing at night'. Yet on this terrain where, in a German historian's words, 'the noise of fighting had almost stopped' the tank had won a victory where no German tank set track. The tank terror which had undermined German morale in 1917 and 1918 was turned upon its originators. French infantry fled from key and unthreatened positions at the mere hint of a tank's engine, though the engines they heard and reported in fear were those of French tanks, moving to the rescue for a dawn counter-attack. This French attack, if it had been pressed, might have thrown the battle back to the river, but the two light tank battalions which caused such alarm halted in case they multiplied a panic they had already raised in the night among the shattered defenders. In consequence they were far from the start line at dawn, and when next they moved it was to find themselves firmly opposed by German tanks and guns whose intentions were deadly and purposeful in the spirit of von Seeckt, the general who had once demanded of the good commander that 'He 'will always fix his goal somewhat beyond the point he feels to be really attainable. He will leave a margin for luck, but wise restraint and an artistic sense are necessary to prevent him fixing the goal too far outside a reasonable sphere of action'. That was advice Guderian had now to heed as information began to accumulate of the existence of that breach in the French defences he had hoped to open. His mind was always fixed upon the raid to Amiens. But first there had to be what one of the major-generals on the British side, Bernard Montgomery, was one day to entitle 'the dog-fight'. And since the dog-fight mainly concerned the opposing armoured formations, to recall their fate is to understand the confrontation. To match the Germans, the French fielded three Divisions Legeres Mecaniques (DLM) each of which had 194 tanks including the good S 35s and four Divisions Cuirassees Rapides (DCR) each of 156 tanks including the heavy Char Bs. There were, in addition, 25 independent battalions of light tanks for infantry support. The DLMs were sent into Belgium, and badly chewed by XVI Corps: besides many machines, they lost the will to fight and for the remainder of the campaign were jumpy at the very mention of German tanks. Guderian saw nothing of them. Nor did he meet the 1st DCR which, like its fellows, had only recently been formed and lacked the organisation, the communications, the philosophy or the techniques of panzer divisions. They were short of infantry and supporting arms, still wedded to the concept of close infantry support in linear positions as well as slow and untutored in their deployment and battle drills. 1st DCR had also gone to Belgium and on 14th May was sent towards Dinant to oppose a sudden breakthrough by Hoth's63 XV Corps. In three days' combat it was virtually wiped out during a series of scattered engagements. Invariably it was short of fuel (because of logistic ineptitude): never was it coordinated due to weak command procedures and chaotic traffic control. 97/258
Two of the remaining three OCRs tried conclusions with panzer divisions and the result of their labour resolved itself into a study of contrasts between prowess and trepidation, professionalism and amateurism. 3rd DCR began to arrive south of Sedan at Chemery on the 14th" as part of XXI Corps, whose task it was to push Guderian back into the Meuse. Once more the dissemination of orders by the French was dilatory (the converse of Guderian's) and refuelling disorganised and slow. As with 1st DCR a second chance for recovery was denied, first by 1st Panzer moving against Chemery and later by Grossdeutschland Regiment and 10th Panzer pushing resolutely on to the high ground of Bois Mont Dieu and denying 3rd DCR its assembly area. Third DCR complied with enemy pressure, reverted to the defensive, and thus was dispersed. But in dispersal it also became engaged in a hard and bitter struggle for the village of Stonne, and this prompted a manoeuvre which was to exemplify the foundation of Guderian's concept of armoured warfare-and incidentally induce another clash with Kleist. As his troops moved into the Bois Mont Dieu, Guderian appreciated that the twelve-mile gap which had opened between this piece of high ground and the Meuse was wide enough to allow his entire corps to turn right and move westward towards the Channel. The one inhibiting factor was an air report of French tanks concentrating against the exposed flank. In fairness he felt it right to ask the commander of 1st Panzer Division if he was prepared to take his whole division or whether a flank guard should be left behind. From the division's Ian Major Wenck, came the answer: 'Klotzen, nicht Kleckern. In any case a strong flank guard was provided on both 1st Panzer's flanks. On the right, XXXXI Corps was at last beginning to make progress westward after crossing the Meuse near Montherme, and 2nd Panzer was moving its tanks close alongside furious Allied air attacks on the bridges having failed in their mission: On the left, Grossdeutschland and 10th Panzer were absorbing the intervention of French XXI Corps, particularly in the vicinity of the key village of Stonne. Here, throughout the latter part of the 14th and most of the 15th, 3rd DCR and Grossdeutschland strove for ascendancy. 3rd DCR began to lose tanks when they tried to take up their advanced defensive positions and fell back; once more the sheer pace of the panzer attack had pre-empted them. Early on the 15th Grossdeutschland took possession of Stonne. At that moment 3rd DCR came under orders, once more, to make a phased attack towards Sedan. But the division, once it had been dispersed, was incapable of concentrating again in so short a space of time. Instead it indulged in a piecemeal counter-attack against Stonne and at once met emplaced German infantry anti-tank guns. A desperate battle ensued, tank versus gun and gun versus tank in the manner envisaged in Achtung! Panzer!. The casualties mounted on both sides and the ordinary riflemen cowered in impotence. For a moment the heavy French Char Bs dominated since their armour proved impenetrable to the German 37mm guns. Eventually only one German gun remained in action - but this proved sufficient. At 100 metres range the layer detected a small ventilation grill in the tank's side and through this posted his shots. Then, in quick succession, he destroyed three Char Bs. Even so, at 1800 hours, Stonne was once more in French hands, for Grossdeutschland was exhausted. Guderian watched this struggle on the 15th, anxious that his risky decision of the previous night should not rebound in its rashness, conscious too that he was acting against the wishes of Kleist who had resisted the early westward shift of XIX Corps for fear of the sort of threat which was now developing. There had been strong words: Guderian had railed at Kleist's desire to halt and consolidate as 'a plan which throws away the victory'. Kleist had given way, but there was justification for his anxiety. Guderian could be accused of taking an awful risk, of despising an enemy who was yet to be categorised as effete. News from 10th Panzer was disturbing. They were receiving a heavy tank attack on their extreme left and could barely spare their reserve infantry to reinforce Grossdeutsch-land at Stonne. Everything hung in the balance. One concerted push by the French, even if their offensive went in with only attenuated strength, could have swung the issue their way. It might not have crippled XIX Corps (for XIV Motorised Corps was arriving close to Sedan and, in a dire emergency, 1st and 2nd Panzer Divisions could have been brought back) but the mere suggestion of a brake upon Guderian would have reasserted the dominance of Kleist and permanently inhibited Guderian's future attempts to maintain the Seecktian doctrine of an ambitious goal. As it was the French halted their attack when it was on the verge of making progress and the crisis for Guderian passed. On the following day a fresh German infan98/258
try division arrived to stabilise the front. In five days half the main French armoured formations had been eliminated. Next it was the fatal turn of 2nd DCR which was in the dangerous process of sending its tanks in small packets by rail to Hirson and St Quentin and its supply lorries by road from Chalons to Guise and thence eastward to Signy L'Abbaye on the 15th. Nobody warned them they were heading into the path of Kleist's Group since nobody on the French side was sure how far Kleist had advanced. While the battle at Stonne raged on the 15th, Reinhardt's XXXXI Corps on Guderian's right, was accelerating in its westward drive and already, with impunity, was overrunning French formations. Its 6th Panzer Division (leaving its companion, the 8th, on the east bank of the Meuse) had driven through the French defended areas and entered the exposed communication zone to begin playing havoc with supply columns, communication centres and dumps. Among the lorries they caught were those belonging to 2nd DCR, the survivors racing southward to escape but thus becoming divorced from the tanks they were meant to supply. Those tanks were at that moment beginning to off-load from trains between St Quentin and Hirson and from the outset would be marooned, presented, fuelless, for mopping up by Reinhardt. Reinhardt was at Liart at midnight when the leading elements of XIX Corps still lay far behind at Poix-Terron, though 2nd Panzer had at last broken clear of opposition. XIX Corps had suffered from the worst of the dog-fight by being compelled to dissipate part of its strength in holding the hinge of the southern flank and having also collided with a few well-led French infantry units which stood and fought strenuously. There was furious fighting for the village of Bouvellemont in which Balck's exhausted 1st Rifle Regiment, supported by tanks, at last overcame part of 14th Division commanded by a future Marshal of France - Lattre de Tassigny. Here, once more, Guderian managed to arrive at the psychological moment-at dawn on the 16th when the French were beginning to withdraw - when the Germans were longing for a rest and the necessity for fresh impetus had need to be injected into a pursuit. It was in moments such as this - in triumph or in crisis - that Guderian appeared at his best. Paul Dierichs, who often accompanied Guderian and referred to him as 'a modern Seydlitz', wrote at the time: 'He radiates a sensation of positive and personal calmness. He is never ruffled. But that does not mean that Guderian cannot astonish his officers. For instance, when he arrives at a command post of a subordinate unit and states its next task, many a person might think it a joke that the goal would be placed so far ahead. But in short, clear terms the general explains the feasibility of the operation. At such moments he speaks in a fascinating way to put over his intense desire to advance'. Vibrant haste was not the only product of his habitual eagerness. As so often before he felt anxious about the shortage of time in which to produce convincing results - the invariable bane of the Panzertruppe from the day of its inception, and the spur to its brash ambition. The previous evening he had held a hectic telephone conversation with Kleist who once more was expressing anxiety about the southern flank. Again Kleist had justification for caution. The situation at Stonne was still obscure and there was insufficient evidence to prove that the French no longer had the capacity to mount a decisive counter-stroke. Neither Kleist nor his superiors were to know that French armoured forces were virtually extinct, that only IVa of these major formations remained intact or that the moral fibre of the French High Command had cracked at realisation of the calamity which had befallen their armies. German leaders at the tip of the spearhead, where it broke through the final layers of the French linear positions, may not have been so well supplied with statistics and sophisticated politicomilitary intelligence as their High Command, but they were right in claiming that this was the moment to take risks for they could smell the atmosphere of enemy decay and recognise from instinct and experience the sight of victory. Nothing like this had been seen by Guderian when he rode near the head of the breakthrough at the Marne in 1914, and yet it was a reference to this somewhat dubious historical precedent which he flung at Kleist as Kleist endeavoured to have him stop. Kleist yielded and granted him another twenty-four hours' grace. But Guderian was not to know then (since Kleist was unswervingly loyal to his superior officer), nor does he seem to have known later, that Kleist was simply obeying orders from above - orders, moreover, which 99/258
neither reflected the current mood of OKH nor OKW. On 14th May OKW and OKH had concurred in withdrawing XVI from Army Group B in Belgium so as to reinforce the success of Rundstedt's Army Group A in France. On the 16th Haider was expressing delight at a breakthrough which'. . . is developing on almost classical lines', an opinion which found support at OKW. Rundstedt, however, had begun to fuss on the 15th, when the advance from the Meuse had barely started. His War Diary suggested the necessity of halting on the River Oise for fear of the threat from the south and because the enemy must in no circumstances be allowed a success'... on the Aisne or later in the Laon region'. On the 16th these fears overflowed. 64
Guderian thrust forward on the 16th with only 1st and 2nd Panzer Divisions, leaving 10 th Panzer Division and Grossdeutschland Regiment to the south of Sedan as insurance against interference from the south and in deference to Kleist's anxiety. The French again repeatedly attacked the hinge at Stonne and caused losses to the arriving German infantry. But they made no progress. The rest of XIX Corps shot ahead and by nightfall was 40 miles distant at Dercy on the Serre at the same moment as a battlegroup from XXXXI Corps arrived at Guise on the Oise and began the process of mopping up the stalled tanks of 2nd DCR. Conveniently overlooking Kleist's twenty-four hour time limit, Guderian blandly sent out radio orders that evening to continue the advance next day, orders which were monitored by Kleist's headquarters and which, at once, brought down a peremptory counter-order along with instructions for Guderian to report to Kleist next morning. At 0700 hours on the 17th Kleist stepped from his aircraft at XIX Corps Headquarters and, without ado, roundly accused Guderian of deliberately disobeying orders. Guderian at once tendered his resignation. Neither could be credited with much common sense at that moment, but both were on edge - Kleist to a far greater extent than Guderian could have known. For Kleist was not much more in favour of a halt than Guderian. The uncertainty was germinated by Rundstedt. Again his War Diary reflected tremors of doubt, for after it recorded, on the 16th, that the commanders of the motorised formations were convinced they could push on over the Oise '. . . especially Generals Guderian and Kleist', it went on: 'But looking at operations as a whole the risk involved does not seem to be justified. The extended flank between La Fere and Rethel is too sensitive; especially in the Laon area ...
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If the spearheads of the attack are temporarily halted it will be possible to effect a certain stiffening of the threatened flank within twenty-four hours'. It is apparent that Kleist did not bother to explain Rundstedt's underlying anxieties to Guderian - their relationship was already too far strained. But Rundstedt was shaken when Guderian's report of resignation arrived. Things had gone too far when a favourite of Hitler did that! He sent him a curt order to remain in his post and await a plenipotentiary - no less than the Twelfth Army Commander, Generaloberst List. List arrived in the afternoon, swiftly declined Guderian's resignation and with the authority of the Army Group Commander told him to begin a 'reconnaissance in force', leaving Corps HQ where it was. In effect this gave Guderian a free hand, one which he made all the freer by laying cable to his tactical headquarters so that his orders could no longer be monitored by superior officers. List confirms these events as well as Guderian's request to be peacemaker on his own behalf with Kleist. Between resignation and reinstatement Guderian sat down to pour out his troubles in a letter to Gretel. It no longer exists but its purport is made plain by her reply on 27th May, in which she wrote, 'It would be lunacy and tragic if at the crowning moment of your life's work you stood aside . . . Despite all your troubles, do not take steps that will harm you and which you will regret for the rest of your life. Darling, I beg of you from the bottom of my heart not to do this. If you have to act I think you should send a direct report to the Fiihrer: anything else would be, as always, to your disadvantage.' She went on to warn him to have care in what he wrote - 'that important letter of yours was opened by the censor' - and added, 'I almost asked Bodewin [Keitel] yesterday for an explanation but could not make up my mind since I was not sure if it would be in your best interests.' The vigilance of the Army authorities - it is unlikely that this act of censorship was State-inspired - seems to throw a revealing shaft of light upon their mistrust of Guderian. That the mail of a senior general should be censored (even by a rampant bureaucracy) was, to say the least, unusual, while the despatch of a Major to instruct his wife to keep silent about the letter's content demonstrated a distinct official uneasiness at what had passed. But the disagreements that had raised the incident were but a storm in a tea-cup compared with what was brewing between the leaders of OKW, OKH and Army Group A. That day Hitler became scared at success and drove to see Rundstedt (a ready fellow worrier) to tell him it was more important to maintain a flow of safe successes rather than take a risk by reaching for the Channel. The scope of Guderian's advance once more outreached the Fiihrer's limited notion of mobile operations: ripples of the Fiihrer's worries washed through OKW, sometimes in the form of direct instructions to specific Army divisions, and aroused anger in Haider who, that morning, was perfectly satisfied that there was 'no danger whatsoever'. He assessed the situation with the same, accurate insight as the spearhead commanders, and kept his head in the days to come as Hitler and his entourage soared between euphoria and melancholy, over-confidence and funk. Brauchitsch, however, endorsed Rundstedt's decision to halt at about the same time as List, on Rundstedt's authority, was letting Guderian loose again, though that evening Haider persuaded Hitler, for the time being, that all was well. The brakes were again released but a precedent had been set. From now on Hitler pestered Rundstedt who had revealed himself as the willowly sort who, unless he lost an otherwise even temper, would bend when Hitler blew. Almost unnoticed, and certainly unreported to Kleist or registered with much emphasis at HQ XIX Corps, an event, exaggeratingly fixed in the history of armoured warfare, had taken place in the period the German commanders were locked in vituperation at the rear. Moving fast and unco-ordinated along the road from Laon, a battalion of French Char Bs and two battalions of light tanks had hit the left flank of 1st Panzer Division. This was the point of 4th OCR, a partially formed, under-trained formation commanded by de Gaulle, who had taken up the appointment less than a week before. Appreciating, like Guderian, that speed was salvation, he had attacked Guderian's flank in the hope of catching the softer administrative tail of the division. As it was, and quite by chance due to the stand-fast imposed by Kleist, he hit muscle - though not without profit. Light German units were brushed aside and at 1600 hours, when Guderian was talking to List only a few miles distant, the French had broken into Montcornet, threatening the supply 102/258
columns. But at this moment the French attack, for want of infantry and artillery support and from shortage of fuel, turned back when blunted by a defence which wÂŁ.i beginning to stiffen. Now the Luftwaffe harried the French tanks and, though destroying only one, chased away the rest down the road they had come. After the war pro-de Gaulle propaganda made much of this attack, but in actuality, apart from within 1st Panzer Division, there was hardly a twitter of alarm on the German side. Why should there have been? Again the French had displayed lack of determination and already 10th Panzer was on its way to rejoin the spearhead approaching Rethel and poised to hit de Gaulle in flank. Moreover the leading German troops, deep in France, were better supplied with fuel and ammunition than the French. German stocks were being built up at maintenance areas in rear, at Hirson for example, their system working all the better as practice made perfect: the French arrangements were falling apart. On the evening of 18th May 1st Panzer Division was approaching Peronne, scarcely disturbed by further isolated outbursts of French resistance and taking an interested look at the first British troops 'to fall into their hands. At the same moment Haider managed at last to persuade Hitler that the way to the Channel was open with the result that OKH overrode Rundstedt and Kleist was allowed to give Guderian his head. Paradoxically this acted as the signal for Guderian to slow down - though not from choice. The tanks were in need of maintenance, 10th Panzer had been held up at Ham, there was a fuel crisis because of a report that the newly created petrol depot at Hirson had been destroyed by fire, and air reconnaissance discovered a big French tank force - 4th DCR of course - concentrating to the north of Laon and threatening Guderian's flank and rear. Guderian, in Panzer Leader, makes no mention of the fuel crisis or the need to slow down (one fancies it might have made him look slightly ridiculous), and he rather glosses over slow progress while paying his respects to de Gaulle:'. . . a few of his tanks succeeded in penetrating to within a mile of my advanced headquarters in Holnon wood . . . and I passed a few uncomfortable hours'. But he was right when he wrote that: 'The danger from this flank was slight' (the air reports exaggerated 150 tanks into several hundred) and 'assumed that the French, conditioned by the doctrine of positional warfare, would not make a major attack until the Germans stood still'. Guderian had no intention of standing still and 4th OCR's attack (the only one with any hope) was beaten off without making a serious indentation in XIX Corps' flank. The French never again enjoyed a better opportunity for, by the evening of the 19th, XIX Corps' ailments had been cured. It also transpired that the fuel dump at Hirson had not been destroyed after all: the signal reporting it had been corrupt and, in fact, as originally drafted, read that it was ready to make distribution. Next day, the 20th, XIX Corps made its longest and most dramatic advance in a single day - the most in twenty-four hours by any tank formation in that campaign - 56 miles from the Canal du Nord to the sea at Abbeville. XXXXI Corps, on its right, almost kept pace and thus, that evening, Kleist could boast of having three panzer divisions lined up on a 15-mile frontage from Abbeville to Hesdin with virtually nothing to prevent them turning either south towards Dieppe and Le Havre, or north against Boulogne, Calais and Dunkirk. The Allied armies were not only cut in two, they were in imminent danger of being isolated from their bases, An officer in 1st Panzer Division remarked that 'We had the feeling such as a fine racehorse may have, of having been held back by its rider, coldly and deliberately, then getting its head free to reach out into a swinging gallop and speed to the winning post as winner'. But racehorses, as Fuller once wrote, 'do not pull up at the winning post' and Guderian never willingly held back a galloping mount. Indeed he had felt the need to drive 2nd Panzer quite hard on the 20th when it came up with the well-worn excuse of a petrol shortage in order to take time for a rest. No doubt Guderian recalled Richthofen's horse-shoe problem in 1914 at the time of the breakthrough in the same region: this time an excuse was to no avail and 2nd Panzer somehow 'found' the fuel to carry it to Abbeville. Haider was certainly taken by surprise and delayed until midday on the 21st before deciding to turn north against Boulogne instead of going south. At the same time Hitler's confidence waned again as he surveyed that exposed southern flank on his map and allowed his imagination to dwell on the threat posed by French armies undisclosed. There was nothing of offensive value to disclose in the French Order of battle. There had been a change of C-in-C (another German achievement) and there was much talk of a counter-offensive 103/258
to cut the panzer corridor. But the French and British already knew that this was practically beyond their capacity and the Germans were also able to calculate the same, and quite as accurately, on the basis of air reports, radio intercepts and information from undercover sources and prisoners of war - including several very senior French generals who had been swept into the bag.
Haider plumped for a northward movement, but it was evening before Kleist set off again, directing Guderian into the void of the defenceless Allied rear, against Boulogne and Calais. This day the shape of ominous events emerged. The British attacked southward with tanks at Arras and caused Rommel's 7th Panzer Division heavy losses. His difficulties were cleared up by nightfall since weight was lacking behind the British attack: but the repercussions were considerable. Though Haider was not in the least disturbed - he welcomed, as did Guderian, any abortive Allied attack which further helped to destroy their forces against a resilient'and economic German defence - Kleist took the orthodox step of withdrawing a division - 10th Panzer - into reserve, thus weakening Guderian still further since elements of the Corps had also to be left behind at Abbeville and a few other key localities guarding the River Somme crossings. Reinhardt, too, felt bound to redeploy a division eastward as a precaution against the Arras threat. Inevitably Rundstedt went on fretting and needless to say Hitler fidgeted: neither could bring himself to believe in total victory, and the pliable Brauchitsch lacked enough strength of will to reassure or silence them. In the upper echelons only Haider demonstrated a real affinity with Guderian and his colleagues. Meanwhile the Allied armies in the north had been put on half-rations and urgent measures were being taken to evade complete encirclement. Small British groups were being sent from England to garrison Boulogne and Calais and bar the way to Dunkirk from whence an evacuation by sea was in prospect. But it would be the morning of the 22nd before Boulogne received its main garrison and so it follows that, if Guderian or Reinhardt had been sent there immediately on the 21st at the same rate as they had travelled on the 20th, they would have found the port virtually undefended. Likewise they could have had Calais for the asking since that port's garrison was not properly in position until the 22nd. As it was Guderian made no movement on the 21st because, as mentioned above, neither OKH nor OKWhad previously made up their minds: he was thus a victim of his own speed. Nevertheless there was still time enough to achieve all the objectives at low cost. He moved off northward at 0800 hours on the 22nd, his original intention being to send 10th Panzer to Dunkirk, 1st to Calais and 2nd to Boulogne. This plan had to be abandoned when 10th Panzer was taken from him by Kleist and so only 2nd Panzer was immediately available to lead the advance to Boulogne - and this Guderian despatched
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without awaiting Kleist's permission, as the Corps' diary tells. Strong resistance from French units was met on the way and, on the heights above the port, British troops, supported by heavy anti-aircraft guns used in the same way as the comparable German 88mm guns, held firm. Now the Germans had a fight on their hands of a kind they had only occasionally met from first-line French units.. 65 It took some thirty-six hours to clear Boulogne. In the meantime 10th66 Panzer Division was once more released to him and he was told to invest Calais on the 23rd. Though British troops were known to be arriving, Guderian gave no special priority to taking the port which clearly would fall in due course. His aim, and that of Kleist, was to place a solid barrier between the coast and the Allied armies to the east, thus forcing them to fight their way to safety through an ever-thickening German ring. As his contribution to forging the ring, Guderian sent 1st Panzer Division in the direction of Gravelines and Dunkirk - above all Dunkirk - on the 23rd. XIX Corps' War Diary leaves no doubt about it. Play is made in the British Official History of the campaign that Guderian gave these orders in ignorance of the difficult country into which he was throwing his troops. This overlooks the fact that Guderian knew the area too well from the First World War (and had flown over it) to be in ignorance of the risks to tanks in this terrain. On 23rd May the difficulties of ground were well outweighed by preponderance of opportunity and strength. At this critical point Kleist's Group (despite 10 per cent losses since 10th May) outnumbered its opponents and easily outclassed them. So obviously complete was German dominance that Guderian was saying, through the Corps' War Diary, that it was 'opportune and possible to carry out its three tasks [Aa Canal, Calais and Boulogne] quickly and decisively' - a revealing abandonment, in terms of confidence, of his normal insistence upon concentrated effort. By the morning of the 24th Boulogne had fallen, the Aa Canal had been crossed by 1st Panzer Division (which had brushed aside British tanks when they made a foray from Calais), and the panzer divisions of Reinhardt and Hoth, reinforced by additional motorised infantry divisions, were roaring up to join them. This was a formidable and versatile force. Moreover the southern flank was being gradually secured by infantry divisions marching as fast as they could towards Abbeville, and the defences of Boulogne were being worked on by Allied prisoners - a breach of the rules of war. At this moment, with Dunkirk but 15 miles distant and ripe for the taking next day (in British appreciations this was rated a probability), came the celebrated halt order. Without entering into a detailed discussion as to the reasons for the order and the attendant sequence of events, it is sufficient to note that it originally emanated from Rundstedt on the evening of the 23rd. Once more he had lost his nerve and was striving to hold back the advance in order to close up his forces before they became involved in heavy fighting against a desperate foe - a view with which Kluge, the commander of the marching infantry of Fourth Army, concurred. It was purely coincidental that, on the same day, Goring had suggested to Hitler that the Luftwaffe be given the honour of finishing the job at Dunkirk which the Army had nearly completed. Hitler, still nursing the anxieties which had beset him since the 15th, was delighted to find a new solution, particularly since it would enable a truly Nazi orientated organisation to seize a larger slice of glory. On the morning of the 24th he once more visited Rundstedt, learnt of the standstill order and happily confirmed it. Guderian says: 'We were utterly speechless. But since we were not informed of the reasons for this order it was difficult to argue against it'. Soon he was to learn that it was a Fiihrer order. Yet another precedent had been set for the future: Hitler had intervened decisively in the conduct of a battle and overriden the Chief of Staff in an operational matter. There were rumblings. Haider was disgusted, made a strong protest and was overruled. Two SS infantry formations, which arrived to take over from 1st Panzer on the Aa Canal, pushed forward on the 26th to improve their positions and were spurred on by Guderian. Sepp Dietrich, the commander of SS Leibstandarte Division, had Hitler's ear. That afternoon, quite unexpectedly or perhaps because the true Nazi SS was now involved, Hitler relaxed his embargo. But now the British and French had come back in strength, the original German momentum had been lost and the going was hard. Slow progress was made on the 27th and 28th, with Guderian up at the front in observation. Fearful that Germany's best troops would be wasted, he returned to his headquarters and sent advice to Kleist in a report which he does not mention in Panzer Leader 105/258
(probably because, after the war, he had no access to the Corps Diary): (1) After the Belgian capitulation [which had taken place on the 27th] continuation of operations here is not desirable as it is costing unnecessary sacrifices. The panzer divisions have only 50 per cent of their armoured strength left and their equipment is in urgent need of repair if the corps is tq be ready again in a short time for other operations. (2) A tank attack is pointless in the marshy country which has been completely soaked by rain. The troops are in possession of the high ground south of Dunkirk; they hold the important Cassel-Dunkirk road; and they have favourable artillery positions . . . from which they can fire on Dunkirk. Furthermore 18th Army [part of Bock's Army Group B] is approaching [Kleist] Group from the east. The infantry forces of this army are more suitable than tanks for fighting in this kind of country, and the task of closing the gap on the coast can therefore be left to them. This was the view which had been put forward by Hitler and OKW on the 24th when the way was clear. This time Kleist was bound to agree and move XIX Corps into reserve to prepare for its next task which was to be a renewal of the offensive in a southerly direction. The British Official History implies that if Guderian had known about the state of the ground at Dunkirk on 23rd May he would not have been so keen to enter that area with his tanks, and it has sometimes been suggested that Guderian was not as yet fully aware of the inhibiting effect of difficult ground on tank forces. Neither accusation warrants exhaustive examination. The pages ofAchtung! Panzer! fully reject the latter suggestion and it is irrelevant to compare the nature of the consolidated defences of Dunkirk on 28th May with those that barely existed on the 23rd. Though Guderian is made to appear in agreement with Hitler this was far from the case. In the meantime the Luftwaffe tried to do by bombardment what the Army had wanted to achieve by occupation. Guderian's men were thus privileged to be spectators of the first major attempt by air power to win a land battle in absolute terms on its own - the first of many signal failures to come. There could no longer be any doubt that panzer divisions had won their spurs. Not even their most hardy opponents within the German military hierarchy could deny them as a dominant weapon. Those who still harboured sectional reservations wisely maintained silence as, on 28th May, Hitler conferred the command of a Panzer Group upon Guderian. It consisted of XXXIX and XXXXI Corps, each of two panzer divisions and a motorised infantry division, with the addition of certain supporting formations - a composition which made Panzer Group Guderian (prominently identified by a large letter G upon its vehicles) into an army, except in name. This clear distinction was retained to keep the eager tank men in their place. Panzer Groups were denied full army status and kept under command of an army - in Guderian's case he was put under List's Twelfth Army - so that the traditional authority of the old system should not be weakened and denigrated. Victory was assured for the Germans. Not only could they assess the Allied formations and equipment which had been destroyed by counting the carcasses on the battlefield and the prisoners in their hands, but through wireless intercept they built up a comprehensive picture of the improvised defences opposing them from the Maginot Line 67 to Abbeville. They knew the defences lacked both depth and sufficient mobile armoured troops. Because they were aware of these things their task appeared relatively easy; at last there was harmony in their construction of plans for the southward directed offensive. Guderian had made his peace with Busch and Kleist, and both had been generously sincere (to his delight) in their praise of his achievement. All was peace with Rundstedt under whom Twelfth Army and Panzer Group Guderian now came. Enemy weak spots could be recognised. In a mood of relaxation - almost of over-confidence - liberties could be taken. The offensive was to begin when individual Army Groups had recovered from the exertions of the past weeks and had completed their redeployment. Army Group B, on the right close by the sea, started forward on 5th June whereas Army Group A was held back until the 9th. Moreover the infantry were to be given an opportunity to re-assert their influence, with permission to lead the offensive and punch holes for the panzer divisions. Penalties had to be paid. The French and a handful of British divisions fought hard and Kleist's Group took a mauling south of Amiens on the 6th and 7th. It was Hoth's. Corps on the extreme 106/258
right, led with characteristic dash by Rommel's 7th68 Panzer Division, which made the first clear breakout and began a non-stop drive for Rouen, Le Havre and Cherbourg. But things did not go well on the 9th, the date on which Guderian was intended to exploit an initial infantry crossing of the Aisne and Aisne Canal between Chateau Porcien and Attigny. At dawn the infantry made heavy weather of the crossing and established only one small bridgehead at Chateau Porcien: elsewhere they were repelled. It was nightfall before the leading tanks of 1st Panzer Division could begin to enter the bridgehead. Throughout the day Guderian had motored tirelessly from one place to another, seeking information about infantry progress and trying to co-ordinate his future operations with them. In the course of it he trod on a few corns and managed to have a sharp (victorious) tussle with List who falsely assumed that inactivity among the tank crews designated for the assault was a sign of Guderian's disobedience. This was symbolic. Though List was quick to realise his error, many senior commanders held implacable convictions that Guderian would sabotage their plans to prove panzer superiority over infantry: they were ever ready to find examples of his insubordination for which he had a well-founded reputation by this time. It made no difference that Guderian had become the equivalent of an army commander. Unlike Kleist in the first days of May, he was frequently at the front, urging on everybody from regimental to corps commanders and encouraging the fighting men themselves. This could so easily have been mistaken by his subordinates as interference in their province. It rarely was, partly because they now needed little urging, largely because they realised that Guderian's main purpose was to dovetail their activities at the utmost speed with flanking formations by using his superior communication system to give them the maximum assistance by short-circuiting the timehonoured, statutory links of command. Once more the superiority of mobile armour was demonstrated in the battles which developed amid the French defences south of Rethel. Where infantry attacked unsupported they were frequently held: once tanks were injected into the battle, operations got fluid. Where time was lost by the Germans and French tank counterstrokes developed - even those involving just a few of their Char Bs - there came a pause in the advance while the tank battle was resolved. Overcoming the miserable hesitation which had stigmatised their performance at Sedan, the French tank crews this time countered each German penetration promptly. The outcome was finally settled by superiority of German numbers and techniques rather than superiority of German tanks. On the spot, Guderian personally carried out trials against a Char B using a captured French 47mm anti-tank gun (which he knew to be superior to the German 37) and found that, frontally, the Char B was invulnerable. Shots bounced off the French armour and the wrecks of German tanks and guns in the countryside at Juniville confirmed his opinion that German armour was too thin and their guns not powerful enough. Soon the breakthrough was made and instantly mobile operations began. Try though they might, by throwing in the last remnants of their mobile divisions to restrain the avalanche, the French were doomed - as they had been since the initial reverse at Sedan. Their morale collapsed once more after only a temporary resurgence. There is no need to retrace in detail the account of Panzer Group Guderian's race to the Swiss frontier. Random impressions are sufficient. On 11th June he watched 1st Panzer Division take Bethenville with a copy-book tank and infantry attack supported by artillery fire, and recalled to mind September 1914 when, in the depths of defeat after the Marne, he had arrived there, bereft of his command and all but what he stood in, and had learnt of the birth of his first son. Now he was the victor, surrounded by his triumphant host, and the son was already among the wounded. A letter to Greteh written on 15th June (the day after Paris fell) neatly summarises the evolving situation as he saw it: 'I wrote to you recently that the front would enter a state of movement. The day after Chalons, Vitry le Francois and St Dizier fell; yesterday Chaumont and to-day Langres. I believe we have broken through and hope to reach Besancon to-day. That would be a great success which would have a retrogressive effect upon the whole of the Maginot Line, and would also have political repercussions. I am very happy that this performance should be achieved despite enormous difficulties due to constant alterations of directions. The battle against one's own superiors sometimes makes more work than against the French. 'The country is in a catastrophic condition. As a result of the enforced evacuation there is an in107/258
describable refugee misery and all the cattle are dying. Everywhere places are plundered by refugees and French soldiers. Up till now we have come across only scanty civilian populations. The Middle Ages were humane compared with the present.' This letter, composed in the heat of combat, is unusual from the pen of a combat general in its expression of compassion. By conditioning and circumstances the breed can rarely afford to reflect too deeply upon suffering when actually engaged in battle. Cynics may well categorise these as crocodile's tears from a typical product of the Prussian military machine. This was not in the nature of Guderian: there is a profound sincerity about his letters, in the reflective portions of his book and in his conversations, which reject such aspersions. Of course he prided himself on his accomplishments in manipulating his forces to destructive effect, but that is the clinical pride of the technician. This man was devoid of racial hatred, and registered his distaste for destruction and the byproducts of war. The same letter also warrants comment by its reference to 'alterations of direction'. Vacillating orders originated from the top-from Hitler - though only the very highest in command were aware of it at the time. Haider remained consistent in the conventional requirement that '... the object of our operations must be the destruction of the remaining enemy forces'. Hitler, on the other hand, bent Brauchitsch to his will on 6th June with the demand '. . . first... to secure the Lorraine iron ore basin so as to deprive France of her armaments industry' - a truly incredible desire in the light of quite obvious indications that France was prostrate and in no position to prevent Germany taking anything she wanted almost at once. Furthermore he ignored the General Staffs logical argument that, until an enemy's forces were destroyed, territorial occupation was worthless. The confrontation was made meaningless in the present context because, within a matter of days, France sued for an armistice. In the longer term, of course, a fundamental principle had been established: in future Hitler would interfere as of routine in detailed Army planning and play one General Staff Officer against another in the realms of strategy and tactics. The Chief of the General Staff was once again reduced in power and influence" while the C-in-C became a mere cipher-with vital repercussions for Guderian at a later date. To Guderian the almost daily switching from essential to prestige objectives was a source of annoyance rather than concern. One day he would be told to divert and take Verdun, the next St Mihiel, with their evocative memories of the past, instead of shaping a steady course towards targets which would lead to destruction of the enemy's forces. Naturally, as enemy resistance vanished, it became easy to overcome these difficulties. Guderian merely kept XXXIX Corps moving in the strategically desirable direction and used XXXX1 Corps to mop up extraneous objectives. A flexible response is easier to apply when there is a superfluity of resources. On the 17th (his 52nd birthday) XXXIX Corps reached Pontarlier on the Swiss frontier, but this was a symbolic incidental compared with the important 90-degree turn in a north-easterly direction made by that corps' two panzer divisions the previous day. Using both his corps, Guderian delivered a broad-fronted drive into Alsace to complete the greatest encirclement of the campaign. In conjunction with 7th Army, moving in from the east, over 400,000 French troops, including the garrisons of the Maginot Line, were gathered in. Their contribution to the defence of their land had been worthless. The manoeuvre, a truly remarkable feat in terms of the military art, goes practically unnoticed by history - perhaps because Guderian and Nehring made complexities of that sort seem so simple, probably because larger events were impending. But when Patton or Montgomery executed similar changes of direction in the years to come, their prowess was acclaimed to the roof-tpps. It was to another that tribute should have been paid for designing the methods which made their triumphs possible. An armistice was signed at Rethondes on 22nd June. Hitler and Germany basked in fame. So, too, did Guderian, for he suddenly found himself renowned throughout the land, a hero whom the propagandists praised for his contribution to the victory. Group Guderian was credited with 250,000 prisoners in 13 days' activity. Josef Goebbels 69and his agents uplifted Guderian and had him broadcast to the nation. He told Gretel, 'How lovely that you heard my speech. I really enjoyed making it'. There was an enormous fan-mail and gigantic correspondence. 'The other 108/258
day a former Gefreiter [lance corporal] from the First World War sent me a harmonica from his factory. It's fantastic how kind some people are'. As soon as the war was over he told his propaganda officer, Paul Dierichs, to find films of the campaign and show them to the troops. Later this material would be made into a documentary extolling Guderian's command and the Panzerwaffe: never once did he forget to publicise his organisation (and thus, be it said, himself) as counter to those who still resented the triumph. But as Dierichs points out, 'Though he realised the meaning of his success, it did not go to his head'. There were more serious matters to contemplate, among them a genuine hope that the fighting was over in the belief that Britain would give up. That hope would soon die: the British fought on, but in any case neither Guderian nor anybody else on the German side were aware that Hitler was formulating schemes which outlawed peace. Yet Guderian himself displayed the same conquering restlessness as his Fuhrer when, on 27th June, he shared his views with General Ritter von Epp, who called in during a visit to the front. He explained to Gretel that they discussed 'Colonial questions'. They did indeed, for Epp was an expert on the subject: but the discussion also ranged over the course to take if Britain went on fighting, and the manner of carrying the battle to the remaining enemy. It is reflected on pages 136 and 137 of Panzer Leader and is worth study as an indication of Guderian's contemporary attitude, as well as a demonstration of his accurate reading of the strategic situation and the shifting balance of power - at a time when the vanquished French were turning in anger upon the British and the Italians had already entered the war on Germany's side. He claimed, after the war, that'in view of the insufficiency of our preparations in the air and on the sea, which were far below what would be needed to invade [England], other means would have to be found of so damaging our enemy that he would accept a negotiated peace'. He went on: 'It seemed tome, then, that we could ensure peace in the near future by, first of all, advancing at once to the mouth of the Rhone: then, having captured the French Mediterranean bases in conjunction with the Italians, by landing in Africa, while the Luftwaffe's first-class parachute troops seized Malta. Should the French be willing to participate in these operations, so much the better. Should they refuse, then the war must be carried on by the Italians and ourselves on our own, and carried on at once. The weakness of the British in Egypt at that time was known to us. The Italians still had strong forces in Abyssinia. The defences of Malta against air attack were inadequate. Everything seemed to me to be in favour of further operations along those lines, and I could see no disadvantages. The presence of four to six panzer divisions in North Africa would have given us such overwhelming superiority that any British reinforcements would inevitably have arrived too late.' Epp, of course, was a dyed-in-the-wool Nazi, one of the original Freikorps' fighters who had won a reputation as the ruthless exterminator of German Communists and who had helped finance the Nazi Party at the outset. As a member of the Reichstag and Chief of the Nazi Party's Department for Colonial Policy, Epp had the Fiihrer's ear, even though he was among those who doubted the wisdom of Germany's involvement in a major war. Guderian claims that Epp put his scheme to Hitler but that Hitler was not interested in exploring the possibilities further. This is not strictly correct. Hitler, inspired not a little by Jodl, explored a multitude of projects after the fall of France, among them collaboration with the Italians in an invasion of Egypt that was firmly rebuffed by Mussolini who wanted to snatch a little glory for himself in his own sphere of influence. He also made overtures to Spain in connection with a drive to Gibraltar and, through the Armistice Commission, to spread his political influence into French North Africa. Admiral Raeder, too, put a strong naval case, linked with the U-boat offensive, for seizing strategic points in Africa, including the West Coast. There are few now (and maybe fewer then who were in the know) who would dispute the soundness of that maritime strategy or its veritable certainty of success. Hitler, however, was a land-animal who recognised the allurements of the sea but left martime adventures to sailors, preferring to send his Army inland, exclusively in its natural environment engaged upon operations which Hitler felt he understood best. Unknown to anybody else, Hitler had never forgotten the project he always had in mind and fixed his predatory gaze upon Soviet Russia. 109/258
By 22nd July both Brauchitsch and Halder were aware of their Supreme Commander's intentions and had formulated an outline plan of campaign. There would be nothing to spare for other projects, worthy though they might seem. Instead the spectre of the two-front war, which Guderian and every sane German feared above all, was being resurrected.
The Fate of a Hero At dawn on 22nd June 1941 Heinz Guderian, a darling of the propagandists and commander of the strongest among four German Panzer Groups, watched his corps and divisions roll into action against the Russians. In close attendance an official war artist, stiffly garbed in uniform and steel helmet, tried on sketch block to catch the mood of confidence radiating from one of Goebbel's stars. But of those who marched eastward on the day that 'the world held its breath', how many felt assured by Hitler's promise of victory within eight weeks, and how many were free from a sense of doom? Guderian was far from at ease though, of habit, he had given everything by the way of duty to make the best of a bad job. The year of rapture that followed the triumph in France had also been one of bewilderment. On the one hand he had frankly revelled in the pleasures of adulation, but on the other recoiled with disgust as the fruits of victory were wasted. On 19th July 1940 he had been promoted Generaloberst, sharing the same promotion list with twelve senior generals who were raised to Generalfeldmarschall - among them Brauchitsch, Keitel, Rundstedt, Bock, Reichenau, List and Kluge. But on that occasion the notable exclusion from advancement (and subject for puzzled surprise) was Haider who, paradoxically, had come to understand the orthodox role of the Panzertruppe almost as well as Guderian. He, to his misfortune, had fallen foul of Hitler. The war for the Army seemed to stand still as the Navy and Air Force, with totally inadequate resources, tried to conquer Britain in the aftermath of Hitler's failure to make peace. Guderian reverted to the old routine of training panzer divisions for a campaign that was, as yet, unrevealed; endeavouring to obtain for them more and improved equipment. The necessity to do so was quite obvious. A world in arms was industriously copying Guderian's methods and Germany's survival would depend upon keeping a jump or two ahead in the armaments race. Hitler - momentarily - was under the spell of the tank - his enthusiasm for technical innovations fluctuating as wildly as it did in politics and strategy. With a campaign against Russia firmly in prospect, he asked for tank production to be increased from the existing level of about 125 to something between 800 and 1,000 per month, his aim being the doubling of the number of panzer divisions. Dr Todt, the Minister for Armaments and War Production, explained that a programme of such magnitude could not be mounted overnight and that, in any case, it would cost 2 billion Marks, require an additional 100,000 workmen and technicians and, inevitably, result in the cancellation or reduction of other projects such as U-boat and aircraft construction. It was ironic that the industrial resources of the conquered nations would provide only limited assistance and that none of thousands of captured armoured vehicles were compatible with German methods of tank warfare. Submissively Hitler ordered a doubling of panzer divisions by halving their tank content (to a strength which varied between 150 and 210) - or, put another way, doubling the infantry component. Guderian complains that his opinions were not sought in these matters, but it would have been surprising had this been so. His views were well known and, in principle, accepted. They had been underlined by the reports he and the other commanders had submitted after the French campaign. Moreover the scheme to invade Russia was a closely guarded secret known only to a few in the autumn. Practically unanimously the panzer leaders rejected the light tanks - Pz I and n - which had failed in action except when employed on subsidiary tasks. These machines would be phased out. Furthermore they realised that the Pz Ills and IVs were in need of up-gunning and up-armouring to compete with the improved enemy tanks that must soon appear. The race between weapons and protection was an historical inevitability from which tanks could not escape. But entry into that race would automatically introduce production delays at the very moment when the call for increased numbers was loud and when intelligence reports were silent about those enemy, particularly Russian, tanks which were better than lightly armed and armoured. OKW and the Ordnance Office had finally compromised - as is usually essential in arriving at a weap110/258
on's specifications - by increasing the armament of the Pz III with a short L 42 50mm gun of much lower velocity and accuracy than the long L 60 being introduced on field mountings for the infantry. As for the infantry within the panzer divisions, they were given a few additional armoured half-tracks though the actual proportion of units thus mounted was less than one in three as in 1940. The rest continued to travel in awkward, unarmoured, wheeled vehicle of indifferent cross-country performance and zero combat effectiveness. Nevertheless the combat power of the panzer divisions in 1941 was higher than it had been in 1940, partly as the result of replacing the light tanks with mediums but principally due to increased confidence and experience among the large number of officers and men who, from practice, had gained priceless insight into the potential and techniques of armoured, mobile warfare. In terms of prowess the Germans, with a galaxy of talent, had taken what amounted to a three years' lead over their future enemies. In November 1940 Guderian heard about the plan to invade Russia - and was flabbergasted. 70 By his own authoritative estimate, disclosed in Achtung! Panzer!, Russia possessed 10,000 tanks in 1937. Now it was reliably reported that she had 17,000. But it was the inherent dread, shared with every educated German officer and many others besides, of the fatal consequences of entering into a war on two fronts (such as had wrecked Germany in the previous conflict) which caused his 'disappointment and disgust'. Though OKW might infer that nothing of the sort would occur, since Russia ought to be eliminated before Britain could make a renewed contribution to the war, the lessons of history were too deeply imprinted on German minds to be erased by a glib excuse. Morbidly the General Staff looked to the precedents by studying Napoleon's 1812 campaign. A translation of Caulaincourt's Memoirs had appeared in the bookshops in 1937 and, overnight in 1941, became required and gloomy reading by those involved in planning an advance upon Moscow. Guderian had bought his copy before the war! In protest Guderian did more than some. He sent his Chief of Staff to complain to OKH, but OKH did not want to hear. Brauchitsch had long since given up effective resistance to Hitler and OKW (preferring personal tranquillity at a time of war), while Haider, realising he would lack support from his C-in-C and feeling that, perhaps, the project was feasible, absorbed himself with means to hasten a military conclusion. But this campaign was not to be the sole project of the year. Digressions supervened. Two panzer divisions had to be sent to Libya in February 1941 to bolster the failing Italians who had been thrashed by a small British armoured force. The invasion of Yugoslavia and Greece had, rather unwillingly, to be undertaken in April to strengthen a southern flank which had become vulnerable due to Italy's abortive attempt to conquer Greece. These major diversions, in addition to commitments in a multitude of minor schemes, sapped the strength of the forces destined for the Russian adventure and made total concentration on the greatest military operation in history impossible. War "on two, if not three, fronts was already assured. Filled with trepidation, Guderian applied himself to a military requirement that characteristically fluctuated as it developed in response to diverse opinions amid long debates and war games. Three Army Groups - North, Centre and South - were to drive respectively towards Leningrad, Moscow and into the Ukraine, but, as in France, disagreements masked the campaign's objects as well as the military objectives. From a nebulous debate appeared a blurred aim, partially directed against territorial and economic targets, partially with the purpose of destroying Russian forces, although, in fact, the divergent objectives were virtually synonymous with one policy. Moves in the direction of Leningrad, Moscow or Kiev were assured of drawing the Russian forces into battle. It was at the juncture between political and military requirements that confusion arose. Along with an ingrained conviction concerning the indispensability of destroying the opposing army, Guderian was convinced of the historic psychological necessity to seize a political objective. To him the capture of Moscow was an end in itself - a belief he was to hold until the end of the war. But what he and so few of his contemporaries recognised was the need to win a truly psychological political victory in a country whose size precluded total occupation. On the evidence of Wilfried Strik-Strikfeld, who was to liaise with dissident Soviet elements whose desire it was to bring down the Stalin regime and who conversed with Guderian in 1945, 111/258
Gudefian had not the remotest conception, until after the war, that the capture of Moscow need not have been conclusive but that an honest declaration of collaboration with anti-Stalinist activists might have produced the desired result. Russia was to be subjugated by brute force, her population cowe'd by the Nazi elements operating under the auspices of Himmler's SS. The armies would be followed by the Einsatzgruppen whose job, directed by Alfred Rosenberg, was extermination, but whose effect would be the alienation of a potential ally. For there waited in Russia a host of potential friends who longed for benevolent liberation. Panzer Group 2's share of the spearhead forces, reinforced by an infantry corps plus two infantry divisions in the initial assault, was: XXIV Panzer Corps, comprising a cavalry division, two panzer and one motorised infantry divisions. XLVII Panzer Corps, two panzer and one motorised infantry divisions. XLVI Panzer Corps, consisting of a single panzer division plus the motorised SS infantry division Das Reich and Infantry Regiment Grossdeutschland. At a distance to his northern flank was to move Hoth's Panzer Group 3 with its two panzer corps. These two groups were to lead Bock's Army Group Centre whose mission, as finally stated by Bock, was to penetrate the Russian frontier-line concentrations between the Pripet Marshes and points north of Suwalki, to wipe out the enemy wherever he was encountered and to undertake a 400-mile thrust in the general direction of Smolensk, regardless of developments in neighbouring sectors. The instruction was necessarily somewhat vague because Hitler and OKH felt that Minsk, 200 miles distant, should be the first objective, while Bock, with the complete approval of Guderian and Hoth, favoured Smolensk. As a result Bock injected an element of subterfuge from the outset with the consequence that neither Guderian nor Hoth were fully aware of their final objective. At the heart of the trouble was misunderstanding of the role and power of fast-moving units apropos slower horse and foot divisions, a fundamental split between those, like Haider, who still felt, regardless of France in 1940, mechanised forces should not get too far ahead of the marching masses. At the root of indecision was the irresolution of the C-in-C, von Brauchitsch. Additional grit was thrown into the machine by a re-emergence of the old tactical chestnut that infantry formations should initiate the offensive across the River Bug near Brest Litovsk, leaving Guderian's Panzer Group 2 to exploit their bridgehead. The commander of the adjacent Fourth Army was Kluge, with whom, in the same vicinity, Guderian had had a slight disagreement over the dispersion of his corps in September 1939. Once more Guderian stood by his principles. Immediate and lasting success, he claimed, would depend upon the application of maximum surprise, shock, penetration and speed from the outset. This the infantry divisions could not guarantee whereas the panzer divisions could-a lesson that had been learnt on the Aisne in June 1940. Guderian gained his point though at the same time, and with common sense, he recognised the need for an infantry corps to reduce the fortress and vital communication centre of Brest Litovsk. For this purpose he was temporarily given command over XII Corps. Once more his willingness to give as well as take in a debate produced a genuine integration of ideas for, at the same time, Panzer Group 2 was attached to Kluge's Fourth Army in the initial stages, since they were operating in his sector. In the months to come Guderian's Group was to enter and leave Kluge's command on various occasions, though mostly he was to remain indirectly or directly under Bock at Army Group. Hence the personal relationship between these three men became crucial in the development of the campaign and of Guderian's fortunes - subject to the brooding influence of Haider in the interminable arguments with Brauchitsch and Hitler. Throughout the Army Bock was rated as 'difficult' with his superiors and hard to serve as a subordinate, though in the latter respect Guderian had few problems. Together they produced outstanding results because they shared a routine General Staff approach to strategy while Bock, as the rules demanded, left Guderian to apply his own tactics. Frequently in his letters Guderian was to extol good relations with Army Group. And yet it tells us something about Guderian when he states a preference for Rundstedt despite that officer's apparent weaknesses as a commander. This generosity to Rundstedt can be explained by Guderian's natural response to men of warmth 112/258
even when it cloaked obvious imperfections. Rundstedt was warm: Bock was chilly. Another cause of Guderian's reservations about Bock may have been the events of 1938, for Bock was among those who supported Brauchitsch in allowing Fritsch only a luke-warm exoneration: Guderian's loyalty to Fritsch never wavered. But what Guderian's behaviour would have been had he known, in 1941, that Bock's headquarters had become the centre of a conspiracy against Hitler (of which Bock himself was aware) neither history nor Guderian records. Almost certainly Guderian was unaware of it, and had it been otherwise might well have taken action against the plotters, for his faith in Hitler was still unshaken. Bock's was not, but Wheeler-Bennett defines him as insignificant of character, a man who would not be drawn into the conspiracy despite his contempt for Hitler. Yet Bock was among those who resolutely refused to transmit the infamous Hitler order which encouraged the Army to kill Commissars and thus he saved Guderian the embarrassment of seeing it. Nevertheless Guderian, in his turn, declined to repeat another dangerous instruction absolving soldiers who committed excesses against the Russian population. In writing 'Both I and my corps commanders were immediately convinced that discipline must suffer if the order were published' he gave the military (as opposed to moral) reason that all German generals offered in declining such demands. But in Panzer Leader he wrote: '. . . German soldiers must accept their international obligations and must behave according to the dictates of Christian conscience'. Generalfeldmarschall von Kluge was quite different from Bock in as much as he was even more energetic but also, according to Wheeler-Bennett, deceitful and not above taking bribes. On his sixtieth birthday, in 1942, while still on the active list, he received a letter of good wishes from Hitler enclosing a cheque for a substantial sum and a permit to spend still more upon his estate. Let it be added that, in due course. Guderian too would receive a gift of land from the Fuhrer, though after his service seemed to be over, and that Rommel and List refused rewards. Whether or not these were bribes is another matter. If so a great many past military commanders of all nationalities should have suffered from uneasy consciences when their grateful nations bestowed awards upon them. But the unhappy relationship between Guderian and Kluge had nothing to do with bribery or politics, though each, whilst at first compliant to Hitler, was in due course to practise resistance in his own way. Then" acrimonious disputes were personal and professional, commonplace among generals who seem to have a weakness that way. Kluge, the gunner, regarded Guderian, the panzer man, as a menace to orthodoxy who, in the interests of discipline, needed to be suppressed. Guderian felt ill-at-ease in Kluge's presence because of what he viewed as the Feld-marschall's icy conceit and intolerance: pictures taken of Guderian shortly after meetings with Kluge show visible signs of strain upon his face. In Kluge (known throughout the Army as Kluger Hans - a play on words which, in modern parlance, can be translated as 'Tricky Dickie'), Guderian recognised a threat to the military principles which he upheld as the keys to victory when the prospects of ultimate victory were fading. Guderian's strong dislike and burgeoning mistrust of Kluge, which turned to outright hatred along with accusations of incompetence against a soldier who was far from being that, simply represented a clash between two ways of thinking - between a daring commander who took undiluted, if calculated, chances and a prudent general who sought security of his personal wellbeing besides the safety of his army in battle, preferring to spread rather than concentrate the risks. But while, undeniably, the antipathy between Der Schnelle Heinz (or Heinz Brausewetter - 'Hothead' - as Guderian was also sometimes known) and Der Kluge Hans disturbed the smooth implementation of the central and principal thrust into Russia, disproportionate importance should not be attached to this squabble between Army Commanders. There were disruptive attributions of far greater magnitude than that in readiness to wreck the German machine. The flicker of gunfire along a 1,500-mile front which, like summer lightning, preceded the thunder of renewed combat just before first light on 22nd June, need not have surprised the Russians. They had received ample warning of the coming storm but acted far too late upon it. As a result many of the Russian soldiers, who were befuddled by a Saturday night hangover, were swept into the German bag that Sunday morning without firing a shot in their own defence. Within a matter of hours the Luftwaffe had won an air supremacy it was rarely to relinquish 113/258
throughout 1941, and the three mighty Army Groups, in one of the most proficient armies history had seen, were breaking strongly upon a temporarily stunned opponent. A comparison between the activities in Russia of Panzer Group 2 (or Panzer Group Guderian as it was better known among the soldiers who took pride in the G painted on their vehicles) and of XIX Corps, the previous year in France, is revealing. In 1941, with five panzer divisions at half the numerical tank strength of the three he had commanded in 1940, Guderian actually led fewer tanks than in France (though the substitution of medium for light tanks redressed the balance of power), while in Russia he had more infantry formations, some of which had armoured assault guns attached to them when in the lead. Yet, in France, XIX Corps had been committed to a frontage which rarely exceeded 25 miles, whereas in Russia his frontage would expand to as much as 100 miles. And while French resistance was frequently immobile and increasingly feeble, that of the Russians grew steadily in fierceness notwithstanding the ineptitude with which their leaders handled numerically superior forces. Neither the wider frontage nor the increased enemy resistance made any difference to Guderian's conduct of operations. He handled a Group as he handled a Corps - by personal leadership at the front by wireless - and overcame the paucity of the roads by working his staff and drivers that much harder in his efforts to keep in touch with the tanks at the spearhead of action. Again and again he came under direct enemy fire and narrowly escaped. But a comparison between distances covered demonstrates a truly astonishing difference between the two campaigns, even allowing for the fact that there was far more space to trade in Russia than there had been in France. In France XIX Corps had moved 149 miles from Sedan to Abbeville in 7 days, the maximum distance covered in a single day being 56 miles on the final day. In Russia, Panzer Group 2 moved 273 miles from Brest Litovsk to Bobruisk in 7 days, the maximum distance in a single day (again the last) being 72 miles-and by 16th July the Group had advanced 413 miles to Smolensk despite persistent Russian resistance and self-imposed halts for maintenance. In the course of this remarkable progress a vast haul of enemy equipment, including 2,500 tanks and 1,500 guns, was taken by Army Group Centre alone (the lion's share in tanks going to the two panzer groups). But the marching infantry also performed prodigiously by covering enormous distances, under the goading of Bock and Kluge, through appalling dust and in intense summer heat in their endeavours to catch up with the motorised columns and rope in hoards of Russians who had been by-passed by Guderian's and Horn's spearheads. Once again, yet more perniciously than in France, the dilemma of gearing the pace of advance to the rate at which a by-passed and defeated enemy could be contained or captured, preoccupied the minds of the higher commanders. Guderian and Hoth were insistent on pressing forward, regardless of what went on behind. They reckoned to achieve safety by movement and believed that the disruption they caused would override minor enemy incursions into their rear. With a glaring torch of success drawing them forward they were blind to what went on behind. But reviving the precedent he had instituted in France, Hitler intervened in Russia and demanded that Guderian and Hoth should close the pincers at Minsk instead of Smolensk, as Bock, Guderian and Hoth wished - even though Guderian accepted that to stretch so far at a single leap incurred risks. On 27th June Hitler's orders were implemented, trapping a seething mass of Russians within a steadily contracting circle. Yet, although Guderian writes in Panzer Leader, 'The foundations had been laid for the first great victory of the campaign', he was rather more reserved in his letter to Gretel: 'To-day, after six days of battle, a first short greeting with news that I am well. We are deep in enemy territory and, I believe, have had a very considerable success. 'A thousand thanks for your kind greetings at the departure and on my birthday, and special thanks for the cornflowers and marguerites. They gave me great pleasure. 'The battle started early on the 22nd where I left off in 1939. The first blow achieved surprise and had a devastating effect. A few strenuous days followed with little time for eating and sleeping and no time for writing . . .' He went on to regret the losses including several officers who had been close to Mm and then wrote: “All this is very sad. The enemy resists bravely and bitterly. The fighting, therefore, is very hard. One just has to put up with it. 114/258
'In addition there is some annoyance, one incident of some importance. But of that nothing in this letter. Troops and equipment again in good order, everything else is ship-shape too. Heat, gnats, dust. My caravan proves itself beautifully. But I am missing my bath.' The' annoyance1 was caused, primarily, by his immediate superiors. On 1st July he told Gretel: 'Kluge has distinguished himself to good effect as a brake on progress' but in the same-letter appears something far more significant, a sign of awakening insight into the perils of Hitler's misguided power: 'Everybody is scared of the Fuhrer and nobody dares say anything. Regrettably, this is what causes a useless waste of blood'. This lack of sympathy with the difficulties being experienced by Brauchitsch, Bock and Kluge was, of course, a common enough attitude by any leader of conviction to whom half measures were anathema. Ironically, Haider's diary on the 29th records a hope that Guderian would disobey the Fuhrer and strike out on his own! Many Germans might have felt easier in mind had they understood the appalling confusion into which the Russians had been thrown. It was not until 30th June that Stalin and the Russian High Command came to hear of the Minsk encirclement (such was the state of their palsied communication system which never rivalled that of the Germans), and only then did they learn by monitoring a German communique. Not even General Pavlov, the Army Group commander, fully recognised the disaster. Indeed, he was never given the opportunity, for he was arrested that day, along with his principal staff officers, and shot. The Germans had not plumbed to depths such as those - as yet. As it had been in France, so it became in Russia. Enormous panzer successes, which Guderian considered as reason enough for further advances, attracted instructions to slow down while the spoils of war and the still articulate, though isolated, Russian armies, were digested. In Army Group Centre (and in the sectors of the two flanking Army Groups, too, for that matter) three distinctly different kinds of battle, often widely spaced, took place. The infantry formations either grappled with or by-passed Russian formations until they were eliminated or had demobilised themselves among the towns, villages, forests and marshes. The mobile troops tried to make as much headway as restrictive orders permitted and as infantry formations caught them up. And in the ever enlarging zone of communications to the rear of the field armies' boundaries, the SS Einsatzgruppen71 began their work of suppression and extermination under the guise of anti-guerilla warfare - in a land where guerillas were, as yet, non-existent and where none need have appeared if humanity had been the rule. Several German generals were aware of the pogrom - though few, if any, its enormity. Nearly all, especially the engrossed operational commanders, ignored it. Guderian, for example, was not in the habit of visiting the lines of communication, but Paul Dierichs recalls his fury when two Russian civilians were shot by SS early in the campaign. And on the 29th Guderian wrote in hope and disquiet to Gretel, 'The people look on us as liberators. It is to be hoped they will not be disappointed.' In conditions of fluid mobility the trend of German operations became highly volatile. Loosely formulated, pre-campaign instructions which lacked the discipline of clearly defined objectives were compounded into a series of tactical and strategic improvisations that were relatively simple to implement through the admirably flexible command and communication arrangements. At short notice Bock could decide, on or about 28th June, to place Guderian's and Hoth's Panzer Groups under Kluge and rename Fourth Army as Fourth Panzer Army. Simultaneously he placed the infantry formations (which, up till then, had been under Kluge) under Second Army. Thus Kluge, without a clear directive, had the unenviable task of controlling the eager Guderian and Both. The switch in command was easy but the formulation of directives suffered in continuity. Everybody wanted to move quickly to the east, but each at his own pace. The initial uncertainty of each thrust became further and perilously haphazard as Hitler's opportunism manifested itself in ill-coordinated, direct orders to individual Panzer Corps, instructions which, regardless of the central strategy, aimed them at specific enemy concentrations the moment intelligence claimed to have detected them. Thus, as Hoth was to point out, the panzer fist turned into an outspread hand - the converse of “Klotzen, nicht Kleckern� Guderian, short of orders, met trouble from Kluge halfway, and, even as Kluge was taking command on the 30th, flew to meet Hoth in an effort to pre-empt what he feared might come, to "make private arrangements for their future collaboration in a continued drive to Smolensk as 115/258
originally demanded by Bock. The evasive system that had evolved in the closing stages in France was re-introduced. While token panzer units were retained to satisfy extraneous demands from above, essential spearhead formations were kept motoring towards the River Dnieper and Smolensk. The Beresina had been crossed on the 28th and on 2nd July the Dnieper was reached at Rogachev. Progress was much slower, in part because of the brake applied by order, in part because heavy rain reduced the fields to quagmires and the foundationless roads to watery cart tracks - but also because the Russians were bringing up reserves and mounting a slightly more coherent resistance. As yet, however, there was nothing to persuade German intelligence that a properly co-ordinated enemy defence was being prepared - a supposition which was absolutely correct and daily typified by the piecemeal commitment and subsequent swift elimination of fresh Russian forces. Nevertheless Guderian and Hoth were threatened with court martial by Kluge when, on 2nd July, elements of their divisions made simultaneous advances that were quite counter to a halt order applied by Kluge. More ominous to Guderian was a technical shock disclosed by the enemy. The swarm of Russian tanks that had initially presented itself for destruction came as no surprise, nor was their technical inferiority unexpected. These machines showed little advance upon those which the Germans had seen in 1932, at various subsequent Russian demonstrations and in Poland. But reports from Army Group North on 24th June began to tell of a very powerful heavy tank which, for hours on end, had resisted the fire of every gun except the 88 (this was the KV 1 with its new 76mm gun). On 3rd July 18th Panzer Division became involved in a heavy fight with Russian tanks and reported an entirely new tank of quite revolutionary design. Nehring72 was commander of 18th Panzer (he had been succeeded as Guderian's Chief of Staff in the autumn of 1940 by Oberst Kurt von Liebenstein) and thus was quick to appreciate the significance of the find. What was more he would soon present Guderian with two undamaged specimens - one an improved type of the other-where they lay in a bog alongside the road. On the 10th at Tolochino Guderian saw and photographed his first T 34s - tanks with well-sloped armour, the powerful 76mm gun and an excellent crosscountry performance. At a glance these machines were superior to any German tank in service or planned for introduction. Not even the latest medium and heavy tanks, projected in 1937 and 1939 respectively, would match them in all departments. The appearance of the T34s coincided with a mounting sense of crisis as the German situation on the Russian front began to deteriorate. If, on 30th June - the 9th day of the campaign - Guderian could claim that his Group's state was satisfactory, the fuel situation well in hand, ammunition, supply and medical services functioning smoothly, casualties light and co-operation with Oberst Molder's fighters excellent, there were already reasons, in fact, for serious concern on technical grounds. On the 12th day of battle in France the first hesitations occurred because tank strengths were falling below the level of safety. Similar warnings came earlier in Russia where thick dust caused accentuated engine wear similar to that first experienced in the Western Desert by Rommel only three months before. Moreover the replacement and repair system was about to be exposed for what it was - an instrument suitable for short campaigns only. Spares were in irregular supply, facilities for major overhauls in the field non-existent; major repairs could be carried out by maintenance companies - only providing they received spares. After the brief encounters in Poland and France the tanks had been returned to the homeland for overhaul and rebuilding. This was impossible from Russia in 1941, not only because the Russians declined to stop fighting but also because the railway system, that had yet to be converted to the German gauge, could neither, in the summer of 1941, carry supplies forward nor backload shot-up tanks to Germany. In consequence replacement tanks were harder to come by as repairs fell behind wastage - and all this at a moment when it was clear that the Russians were receiving fresh machines. Acrimony grew more vituperative between Kluge and Guderian when the latter, with Hoth, restarted the advance on Smolensk. On 9th July there was a row after Guderian, contrary to instructions, prepared to cross the Dnieper. Kluge was perfectly aware he was being manipulated and blatantly blackmailed when Guderian blandly produced the argument that arrangements had gone too far to be reversed and that to remain stationary was to invite destruction by the Russian Air Force. There were serious risks in what Guderian and Hoth73 were doing. The 116/258
marching infantry was several days to the rear and Russian reserves were appearing in strength to front and flank. On the other hand it was well argued, from experience, that to leave the Russians undisturbed would merely allow them to establish strong defences where, for the present, none existed - a lesson which had been learnt all too often in the First World War. In effect Guderian was patronising to Kluge and snubbed him too openly for safety. Yet not always were they angry with each other and at times there was a grudging similarity of opinion. On this occasion Kluge, according to Guderian, 'Unwillingly gave his approval to my plan' with the remark 'Your operations always hang by a thread'. For a variety of reasons, therefore, it is interesting to read an account by Kluge's Chief of Staff, General Gunther Blumentritt: 'In the period from 2nd to 11th July our Panzer Groups . . . drove into the difficult woodland and marshland of the Beresina - Russian resistance stiffened considerably . .. On the few roads we encountered the first minefields, numerous bridges which had been blown up, the enemy tenaciously holding out in the woods and swamp; as the result a unique phenomenum of this war occurred. '. . . strong Russian elements simply stayed in hiding in the pathless forests away from the roads. The infantry corps of Fourth and Ninth Army . . . had to deal with these enemy forces and as a result furious engagements were fought in the woods day after day . . . 'The first doubts arose in our minds. No decision had been reached . . . 'Feldmarschall von Kluge decided to commit the two Panzer Groups ... for an attack along a broad front towards the east. . . We planned to carry out simultaneous crossing of the wide Dnieper and Dvina rivers at a maximum number of places . . . This great operation of von Kluge's Panzer Army will always be regarded as a strategic masterpiece. To be sure he had two armoured commanders with outstanding qualifications. Generaloberst Guderian ... in addition to all his other qualifications, possessed inexhaustible energy and enjoyed the absolute devotion of the units serving under him. He could be as hard as steel in his demands, and he was no pleasant subordinate, but he was a born armoured commander. In the eyes of the troops he was a kind of " Rommel of the Armoured Command". Guderian meant victory! 'Generaloberst Hoth was a modern armoured commander who adhered strictly to the techniques of the General Staff Corps. He applied a firm hand with circumspection and acumen. He was an obliging subordinate, a kind of Prince Eugene.' In this short passage can be recognised the key to an appreciation of the operations which resulted on 15th July in the completion of another wholesale encirclement of Russian forces at Smolensk and the attainment of a crucial stage in the campaign. Kluge's difficulties with the Russians and with Guderian are plain to see, but one is left in little doubt from whence the strategic motivation came and to whom Blumentritt gave most credit - and Blumentritt was usually loyal to Kluge. To Oberstleutnant von Barsewisch, Guderian's Luftwaffe officer, his commander was a' superman, a ball of energy and brainy too . . .' Barsewisch wrote in his diary of the planning which took place on the llth/12th, as he saw it: 'When Guderian makes decisions it is as if the War God himself rides above Walstatt. When his eyes flash Wotan seems to hurl lightning or Thor swings the hammer'. And in the evening he listened to a conversation with Oberst Rudolf Schmundt74, the Fuhrer's military assistant, when Guderian passionately exclaimed, 'It's not my fame but of Germany for which I care'. This was a protestation of some significance which Barsewisch may not have appreciated at the time, affecting, as it did, Guderian's rising sense of destiny. The operations by Guderian and Hoth in the approach to Smolensk are among the most remarkable of the war - supreme examples of a mobile offensive in pursuit of a strategic aim against stiff resistance by a numerically inferior foe. For a month the Russians persisted in their piecemeal counter-attacks against Army Group Centre, yet the Germans, despite logistic limitations, maintained a steady rate of advance even though its pace was reduced compared with the early days of the campaign. Between 10th and 16th July Panzer Group 2 pushed forward only 75 miles from Krasnyi to Smolensk, but it covered countless additional miles through the necessity constantly to shift its stance to deal with Russian counter moves and to occupy successive nodal points in the battle of manoeuvre. Steadily it moved eastward, implacably the Russian groups were outflanked and isolated, invariably it was the Germans who were first to seize vital points 117/258
with tanks and infantry and then hold them with anti-tank and machine-guns brought up in defence, while the tanks moved on to conquer fresh ground. Only when it rained, and the tanks sank to their turrets in slime, was there a pause, for rarely even by night was a standstill permitted. Men and machines began to wear out, fuel ran short and ammunition had to be used more sparingly. But Guderian was everywhere, coated in dust and tirelessly developing his schemes. At the peak of his form he attained new heights in generalship and an even deeper understanding of his profession. Strategic, tactical and technical skills he supplemented with a lighter touch: he even managed to win the admiration of one of his more virulent critics, Geyr von Schweppen-burg, the commander of XXIV Panzer Corps. 'We worked in a model way together, owing to the tact and skill of his Chief of Staff and to Guderian1 s own discretion and good will. During six months of daily hard fighting there was not a single row.' The same could not be said of the relationship with superior headquarters far to the rear: with them a bickering struggle to obtain enough reinforcements and supplies to sustain the failing panzer forces went on. Yet by the very persistance of their success the Panzer Group leaders belied each angry show of anxiety since they always somehow managed to stay mobile, to mop up over 300,000 trapped Russians along with 3,200 tanks and mountains of equipment besides stopping those Russian attacks which came in from the east. Hitler, OKW and OKH were becoming, in fact, dangerously spoilt and complacently accustomed to the seemingly automatic flow of panzer victories: they failed to realise that these good things were by way of being military miracles. Divorced from the front by space, as they were, it was hardly surprising that they shrugged off complaints from spearhead commanders who repeatedly conjured up triumphs despite their cries of alarm and despondency. Neither OKW nor OKH could be genuinely aware of what von Barsewisch called '. .. the unbelievable deprivations and exertions imposed upon to-day's generals' since none of the senior officers in those remote places had experienced anything "like it in their lives. Von Barsewisch gives a vivid impression of Guderian in a moment of crisis which was to occur on 5th August, a day in which his commander raced from place to place in attempts to prevent a large body of Russians from escaping encirclement. Information that a threat was developing against an important bridge at Ostrik came in. 'He rushed immediately to the point', relates von Barsewisch,'. . . full of rage, and closed the gap with a battery of anti-aircraft artillery which he led personally into battle. There was this fantastic man, standing by a machine-gun in action against the Russians, drinking mineral water from a cup and saying, "Anger gives you a thirst!" ' It was almost superfluous when Barsewisch wrote 'Guderian is well known by his 300,000 men. It is amazing the respect with which he is greeted everywhere he goes'. Twice Guderian wrote commentaries to Gretel upon himself. On the 6th August he remarked, 'how long heart and nerves can stand this I do not know' and on the 12th, in a letter which wonderfully describes the stresses of command besides his own reactions: 'Have I not become old? These few weeks have imprinted their marks. The physical exertions and battles of the will make themselves felt. Occasionally I have a tremendous yearning for sleep which I can seldom satisfy. Yet, by and large, I am feeling very fit when something is going on ~ also quick and able. But as soon as the tension is relaxed comes the relapse.' Notwithstanding the gallantry of the front-line troops, a dangerous crisis loomed over OKW and OKH. At the beginning of August it was apparent that the enemy, Jar from being broken, was strong and capable of prolonged operations. On July 3Ist Guderian wrote, The battle is harder than anything before ... it will take some time yet.' Though vast areas had been occupied and immense armies smashed the capture of a major political or economic objective had not been achieved, nor had the Russians been annihilated. Indeed, in the Ukraine, the Russians had nimbly evaded Army Group South and still held Kiev, while Army Group North stood well short of Leningrad. From the outset each Army Group commander had been eager to seize the principal objective that lay within the boundaries of his command. To Bock, Moscow was a prize beyond price even though he doubted its political significance. But now the difficulties of achieving their ambitions were accentuated by a belated appreciation of the tyranny of distance and the inadequacy of their resources to overcome that tyranny. Not only were the fighting vehicles breaking under the 118/258
strain but so, too, was the machinery of logistics as well as the moral fibre of the commanders whose thoughts turned pessimistic again. The Wehrmacht was stretched to the limit: only one major objective could reasonably be pursued at a time. Bock, supported by Kluge, Guderian and Both, gave unified support to Brauchitsch and Haider in their endeavours to make Moscow the primary target. Almost perversely, it seemed, Hitler proposed instead that Leningrad and the Ukraine should be taken; thereupon, he claimed, Moscow would fall of its own weight. As his reasons for diversifying effort, he propounded the need to attack political and economic objectives rather than concentrate upon a purely military task - but Hitler chose convenient arguments to suit short term aims which, on this occasion, were ill-defined. Nothing could be settled until Hitler had visited each Army Group headquarters in turn, seeking to test the opinions of von Leeb, von Bock and von Rundstedt while reimposing his personality upon them and sowing the seeds of dissention which could undermine their faith in Halder and OKH. Insidiously Hitler worked upon the susceptibilities of the generals, aiming to dominate each one through personal fascination regardless of the integrity of the strategy he was promulgating. Concerning Bock's headquarters, where Hitler arrived on 4th August, there has been gossip about some sort of plot by the la, Oberst Henning von Tresckow75, and his ADC, Fabian von Schlabrendorff (a barrister) along with two more ADCs, to arrest Hitler in the hope that a chain reaction would be set off against him. This ludicrously amateur scheme (if it ever existed) was mentioned in Schlabrendorff s book of 1946, Offiziere gegen Hitler (but omitted from his subsequent book of 1965). It appears to have been abortive because, only at the last moment, did the plotters realise that Hitler was too strongly escorted. It is also said that Tresckow had tried to involve Bock in the plot and that Bock refused to give support unless presented with a proven success, and there has been a suggestion in Wheeler-Bennett's Nemesis of Power that Guderian was aware of the Tresckow plot and undermined it by falling in line with Hitler's aims. Guderian, who denied the truth of anything written about him by Schlabrendorff in 1946, has history on his side, whereas Schlabrendorff s book was riddled with inaccuracies and hearsay accounts. For example, Schlabrendorff asserted that Bock did not want to go to Moscow but asked to revert to the defensive, while Guderian was more interested in the Ukraine: both notions are substantially contradicted by contemporary diaries and personal accounts. Admittedly Hitler interviewed each senior commander alone and nobody can be sure what was said, but there is nothing to show why Schlabrendorff should be right and everybody else wrong. In fact Guderian's only public strategic disagreement with anybody else at this moment was with Hoth over the date of the start for Moscow - the former calculating he could be ready on 15th August, the latter more cautiously preferring the 20th - the critical factor being the repair of tanks. Meanwhile, in private, Bock and Guderian disagreed mainly upon what the fundamental effect of capturing Moscow might be, Guderian arguing that occupation of the capital would be sufficient in itself to bring about the collapse of Stalin's regime, Bock holding the much more political and sophisticated opinion that 'Russia can only be conquered by the Russians through a civil war and a national liberation government'. Abstruse political theories come low in the priorities of a field commander at the height of battle. Guderian was consumed by combat and returned to the front after the conference eager to prepare his Group for the drive on Moscow which he reckoned must surely take place. A few swift orders to his staff and once more he raced to the front line to fight, an action he described to Gretel:'. . . I fought a battle at Roslavl, conquered the town, took 30,000 prisoners, 250 guns and much other material including tanks ... A pretty success. But still somebody [Bock under whose direct command he then was] interferes as before and endeavours to deploy the tanks in dribs and drabs, ruining them by useless journeys. One despairs! How I can overcome this stupidity I do not know. Nobody helps me ... Three days ago I was ordered to the Fuhrer to report on the panzer situation. The opinion at OKW and Army Group does not match my ideas despite the fact that the Fuhrer was extremely understanding. What a pity! What a pity!' At the higher headquarters, where the sound of gunfire was only rarely heard and time seemed to have lost some of its importance, the long debate about future strategy dragged on. As the campaigning season ebbed away the only immediate friendly beneficiaries of a pause were the 119/258
German logisticians who thus found the opportunity to recuperate the formations' strength along with stocks at the front. The main long-term beneficiary was, of course, the Russian Army which at last had time in which to consolidate its positions. When the initiative is finely balanced, inaction is often more destructive of generals' composure than is the actual crunch of battle on soldiers. The strain upon Haider, who, best of all, knew that a moribund strategy tolled the death knell of Germany and who pondered and strove under well-nigh intolerable conditions, was appalling. He was caught in a vortex of proposals and counter-proposals but lacked the authority and ability to turn them into positive action. Frequently reviled and blatantly ignored by OKW, too often abandoned by his C-in-C whose credibility with OKW had sunk low, his consequential in effectuality became apparent to worried colleagues at the lower levels, and they began to lose confidence. This highly strung staff officer, who would have welcomed a rigorous debate in straightforward terms, began to lose his1 sense of poise. An argument that shifted amid the sands of Hitler's tortuous political manoeuvres and intuitions was destructively exasperating to Haider. Guderian merely wished to keep moving since this, to him, was the essence of panzer tactics, and the mainspring of victory. On 12th August he wrote: 'I would not wish to be in this area [Roslavl] in the autumn: it is not very pretty . . . waiting always brings the dangers of immobility and static warfare: that would be terrible.' That he knew only too well the troubles of the High Command, he showed in a letter on the 18th: 'This situation has a bad effect upon the troops, for everyone is aware of the absence of harmony. That is the product of unclear orders and counter-orders, absence of instructions sometimes for weeks ... we are missing so many opportunities. But it is annoying when one knows the reasons. These most probably cannot be put right during this war, which we will win despite it all. That is human nature in great moments and with great men. Don't listen to too much talk about me. It is all much exaggerated and people make a mountain out of a molehill.' For talk there was - about his intransigence, on the one hand, but ever more loudly about his virtue linked with a growing feeling among a small and influential caucus that he was wasted in the lower echelons of command. Or so it seemed to Oberst Giinther von Below, Hitler's Luftwaffe adjutant, who was a fervent admirer of Guderian. It was clear to him, as many others, that the poor relationship between von Brauchitsch and Hitler was leading to disaster and that Guderian, for whom Hitler had much more respect, would be the right replacement. At this moment, in playing a hunch, he suggested to Major Claus von Stauffenberg, a staff officer at OKH, that he should visit Panzer Group 2 to assess for himself Guderian's fitness for the higher role. Stauffenberg, like most visitors after a stay with Guderian, returned enthused and the two conspirators sought ways of unofficially thrusting Guderian's qualities upon the Fiihrer's attention. At about the same time von Below asked Guderian what his reactions would be if he were asked to be Cin-C, and Guderian, not surprisingly, had answered that he would 'follow the call'76 Von Below says that Guderian's Chief of Staff, Liebenstein, probably knew of the scheme, though Oberst Schmundt was unaware of it. Through notes in his diary it is apparent that Barsewisch knew too77 but whether or not Haider was informed is a matter for conjecture, although Oberst Heusinger, the Chief of Operations, was told and may have discussed it. I think it very likely that Haider did know. Certainly his subsequent relationships with Guderian and those who supported the panzer general assume a different character if viewed in the light of this positive assumption, for up to the middle of August Halder had little for which to thank Brauchitsch but good reason to feel gratitude towards Guderian, besides an increasing disenchantment with Hitler whose arbitrary behaviour was worsening. For not only the Commander-in-Chief was losing or had totally forfeited - prestige. The F端hrer too had begun to suffer from failing authority and was finding it more difficult, by sweet persuasion, to sway doubters. Ever more frequently he felt compelled to resort to bullying injunctions to over-ride contrary points of view. Increasingly he came to rely upon the thoroughness of Prussian discipline to bend the generals to his will. Each set-back and every revelation of weakening in Germany's situation was to lead to a coercive tightening of his lonely, dictatorial grip. And since he was never effectively opposed by his closest followers and sycophants, and persisted in holding dissident factions at a distance, he was permitted to formulate and actuate warped ideas upon false or ephemeral premises which all too 120/258
often were turned into faulty policy. For example, the limited operations mounted by Guderian in the interim period between his arrival at Smolensk and the construction of a revised strategy, are coincidental with Hitler's suggestion to abandon the principle of securing victory through sweeping mobile operations in favour of small local actions, analogous with static warfare, to take unimportant terrain. This concept, encouraged by Haider and adopted by Bock as a temporary expedient to maintain a limited mobility, led to an innocuous advance on Gomel by Second Army along with random requests to Panzer Group 2 for assistance - the requests which led Guderian to complain on the 18th about the plethora of unclear orders and counter orders. Liebenstein bitterly remarked 'The troops must think we are crazy' and he wrote in his diary on the 15th, that the moves '. . . cannot lead into the flank and rear of the enemy' and, again on the 20th in complaint in connection with tanks held in the line instead of being relieved by infantry in order to prepare for the next main task: 'After all, this Army Group appears to intend attacking on both sides of the road Roslavl to Moscow. Our further extension to the south is therefore no longer appropriate'. Guderian, though he knew that the order had come from OKW via OKH, resisted it - Liebenstein quotes Guderian as saying, on 22nd August, that to send the Panzer Group in this direction was 'a crime'. But as Second Army, under Bock's goading, edged southward, the seeds of decision at last germinated in Hitler's mind: he opted firmly to strike heavily southward in the direction of Kiev. At about the same moment, on 18th August, Brauchitsch and Haider put their names to a document demanding an advance upon Moscow. The plan submitted by Brauchitsch and Haider nevertheless temporised in that it still allowed the flanking army groups sufficient resources to reach the main objectives within their boundaries. Hitler, in rejecting it, gave a politician's reply by accusing OKH of being too strongly influenced by the three Army Group commanders. Once more Haider asked Brauchitsch to join him in joint resignation, but again the C-in-C declined. He knew that a second-rate policy was promulgated, an offensive based upon pure opportunism in which a Panzer Group was to be peeled off Army Group Centre and made to collaborate with Army Group South in a gigantic envelopment of the Russian armies defending the Ukraine. In every sense he took the line of least resistance. Halder stuck to his guns and called yet another meeting at Army Group Centre at which the Army and Panzer Group commanders were in attendance. With compulsive zeal and ability, Guderian argued the case against diverting his Panzer Group to the south, pointing out the logistic difficulties that would arise and emphasising the debilitation of men and machines. Some of the men, he said, had forgotten the meaning of rest. Then he raised the spectre of a winter campaign which had never been envisaged by the planners and for which, on the face of it, no apparent preparations had been made. In essence he said that, though the Kiev operation was feasible, it precluded a subsequent offensive against Moscow and made a winter war inevitable. This precisely coincided with Haider's and Bock's opinions. Now it was that von Below suggested to Bock that Guderian was the man to accompany Haider in a final effort to change the Fiihrer' s mind, a scheme to which Haider readily acceded - all the more readily, one feels, if he too was convinced, as possibly he was, that Guderian was the one man who might succeed where Brauchitsch had failed. Indeed, at this moment, it seems entirely reasonable to believe that Haider supported Guderian as the candidate for Brauchitsch's job. Controversy surrounds every aspect of Guderian's visit to Rastenburg on 23rd August, as perhaps befits a turning point in the campaign. Liebenstein records in his diary for 23rd August (an entry obviously written shortly afterwards, perhaps with the intention of protecting Guderian's reputation): 'The commander flies with the Chief of the General Staff with the aim of preventing Panzer Group being sent into action in the south. As he says upon his return, he was met by the C-in-C [Brauchitsch] with the words. "The attack to the south has been ordered. Now it only depends on how".' In Panzer Leader Guderian elaborates upon his meeting that night with Brauchitsch who, he wrote, forbade him to mention the question of Moscow to the Fiihrer. One asks, did Brauchitsch know about the plan to depose him? Probably not, but Guderian goes on to say that the conversation with the Fuhrer (at which neither Brauchitsch nor Haider were present) got round 121/258
to an attack against Moscow and that he reasoned the case strongly for this strategy and against that of going to Kiev. Hitler, in the company of Keitel, Jodl and Schmundt, replied with reasons economic, political and military - for entering the Ukraine and for neutralising the Crimea, adding the patronising phrase, 'My generals know nothing about the economic aspects of war'. Members of the entourage nodded their heads in agreement. In the face of this tirade Guderian, unsupported, took the view, according to Liebenstein's account, '. . . that he cannot debate a resolved issue with the Head of State in the presence of all his company'. It would have been as much to the point had he mentioned the inhibiting effect of knowing that his future prospects of becoming C-in-C and, perhaps, saving Germany were in jeopardy. A headlong row with Hitler at this moment would have damaged them beyond repair. By arguing only mildly at this point he could enhance the Fuhrer's goodwill and turn the prospect of maximum influence in the near future into a probability. It is one of the sad commonplaces of relationship among senior German generals with Hitler that they tended always, when posed with the dilemma of mutual confidence, to bargain concessions in the hope of an improvement in their future relative status - and every time to see those hopes dashed. Each in his turn suffered and so, therefore, did the Army and Germany. What now transpired was the complete destruction of accord and faith between Haider and Guderian, those two who were probably Germany's last hope in the struggle to curb Hitler's irrationality. Liebenstein wrote: 'The commander is being accused by the Chief of the General Staff of having given way'. And Haider commented scathingly on Guderian: 'Previously he said he could not go south. Now he declares that in view of the Fiihrer's demands to move as soon as possible to the south ... he has changed his mind. Guderian says that he gave this [original] explanation in order to hinder the operation to the south. Once the Fiihrer declared his determination he felt it his duty to make the impossible possible. This shows in a shattering way how official reports can be used to serve an individual's purpose. As a result an order is being issued on how to make reports. But you cannot alter characters through orders.' Guderian says that 'Halder suffered a complete nervous collapse' when he reported failure of his mission, and Bock confirms this collapse on Haider's part. It was reasonable for Haider to be disappointed, but an over-reaction on this scale needs a more convincing explanation than that. In the first place Haider, on the face of it, had been extraordinarily optimistic if he imagined that a relatively junior officer could change Hitler's mind in a few minutes when he and Brauchifsch had failed over the weeks - and more than hopeful if he believed that a resolved matter could be challenged in a way that was quite contrary to the code of Prussian discipline. For Haider had been less than straightforward with Guderian: he had omitted to tell him that orders had been issued already by OKH to Army Group Centre instructing it to co-operate with Army Group South using '. . . a strong force, preferably commanded by Generaloberst Guderian'. If one admits that Haider knew of the move to replace Brauchitsch with Guderian then his behaviour becomes comprehensible since, for a start, he must have been fairly - if not strongly convinced that Guderian had special influence with the Fiihrer as well as the determination to succeed where others had given way. Moreover, if Guderian had changed Hitler's mind the chances of his becoming C-in-C would assuredly have been enhanced. On 23rd August, therefore, Haider could well have looked on Guderian as his future commander with all that implied. Therefore his fury and disappointment must have been redoubled at the outcome and hence the scale of his outburst of pent-up emotions along with accusations of disloyalty and remarks to Bock on the telephone that Guderian had let them all down. The fact remains that from this moment Haider was Guderian's enemy who, over the years, came to perpetuate the legend of Guderian as a maverick at odds with the elite of the General Staff, along with the notion, as he wrote after the war, that Guderian was shallow. But Haider was also thrown upon the defensive when the king he thought to have played turned out, in his opinion, to be a knave. For there were those on the staff (among them Oberst Fritz Bayerlein, Guderian's la) who contended that, as the result of the events of 23rd August, Brauchitsch and Haider should have resigned, not Guderian whom the Haider faction thought should have gone. Be these things as they may, the soured future relationship between Halder and Guderian can now be seen in a new light that looks still clearer when one realises that the move to replace 122/258
Brauchitsch gathered further momentum while at the same time the adherents of Guderian came under what almost amounted to persecution by Halder - as the ensuing train of events demonstrates. The drive into the Ukraine demanded every atom of Guderian's ingenuity since his fight was against both the Russians and Haider's obdurate opposition. Haider's diary states his opinion about the new operation as tackled by Guderian: '24th Aug. The intention of the Panzer Group to strike out. . . with its left wing . . . leads too far east. Everything depends upon it helping Second Army across the Desna and then the Sixth Army across the Dnieper.' In other words the 'fast units' were once more to have their effectiveness curtailed by placing them in support of the slowest marching formations. Yet within forty-eight hours, on the 26th, he was noting that 'the infantry moves slowly forward in face of stiffening resistance' though he persisted, on the 27th, in demanding of Bock, 'Not to let Guderian run south but keep him in readiness for the Second Army's crossing of the Desna'. Speed was far from being the essence of this operation. Liebenstein registered his commander's protest at this splitting up of the panzer group by the removal of XLVI Panzer Corps into reserve. But, although deprived of one third of his force, Guderian resolutely ignored Haider and Bock in an attempt to achieve dramatic results in the usual way. This time, however, there was much more urgency than usual since only by a rapid conclusion of the Kiev operation could a start be made against Moscow in sufficient time before the onset of winter. The initial advances struck an astonished enemy who had not expected an attack in this direction, but the Russian reaction grew daily stronger and heavy fighting stretched the two panzer corps to the limit. Haider recorded a message from Bock on the 27th in which he said that 'Guderian rages since he fails to make progress because of being attacked in flank and demands reinforcement of his remaining fast units. Bock feels unable to do so because he must keep a reserve. I am of the same opinion and request him not to give way to Guderian ... In addition I ask him to keep a tight rein on Guderian . . .' And on the 28th - after Paulus, now Halder's chief assistant, had pleaded Guderian's case for support: 'I realise the difficulty of the situation. But in the final analysis all war consists of difficulties. Guderian will not tolerate any army commander and demands that everybody up to the highest position should bow to the ideas he produces from a restricted view-point. Regrettably Paulus78 allowed himself to be caught. I will not give way to Guderian. He has got himself into this fix. Now he can get himself out of it.' Matters came to a head on the 31st when Halder wrote about the '. . . decidedly uncomfortable position of Guderian's Group (this day Guderian had to deploy a field bakery company to hold a threatened sector) . . . he throws out accusations and insults in a telephone conversation with Bock. He can only be helped by infantry but that will take several days, so he must sit tight as the result of a faulty attack. I consider it wrong to help him . . . Bock, however, intends to send forward two infantry divisions'. Later that day Haider mentioned a telephone conversation with Bock in which the latter complained of Guderian's tone, '. .. which he cannot in any circumstances tolerate, and demands, in order to have his way, a decision by the F端hrer. That is an unheard of insolence!' Liebenstein's diary puts it another way on 1st September: 'It is a major mistake . . . that insufficient forces have been committed to achieve success quickly to reach our goals before the onset of winter. Repeated requests for the XLVI Panzer Corps are refused . . . The commander has the impression that Army Group, as well as the Chief of Staff, still cling to the old plan for a drive to Moscow. It is certain that the F端hrer is against dispersal of panzer groups, as he told the commander on the 23rd. Therefore the commander sends a message to Army Group Centre and points out that in view of Second Army's slow progress the operational goal cannot be reached without additional forces, and proposes support from XLVI Corps, 7th Panzer, llth Panzer and 14th Mot. and requests decision by the F端hrer ... As can be expected this wireless message created house-high waves . . . Result: The immediate placing of an SS division with us ... The Chief of Army Group tells me in a private conversation "There have been errors . . ." ' The next day Generalfeldmarschall Kesselring79 of the Luftwaffe arrived and confirmed to Liebens-tein that the Fuhrer supported Guderian's activities. On the 3rd Lieben123/258
stein wrote: 'Army Group refuses to state its objectives. Evasions.’ The plot intensified, on the 4th, when Haider persisted with what now looked suspiciously like a vendetta: with intrigue against Guderian through Hitler: 'Great agitation has taken place. The Fßhrer very angry with Guderian who will not abandon his intention to move to the south . . . The order is issued to bring Guderian back to the west bank of the Desna. Tension between Bock and Guderian. The former demands that Guderian should be relieved of his command.' And on this day, when Oberstieutnant Nagel, Haider's liaison officer, repeated Guderian's views in conference, he was removed from his post for being' a loudspeaker and propagandist'.80 Liebenstein, lacking clear orders, was in the dark as to the reasons for complaint and wrote that Guderian was 'deeply affected' by OKWs apparent dissatisfaction with the Panzer Group and his feeling that'. . . a scapegoat is being looked for from above for lack of speed, whereas we are sure that, with sufficient reinforcement, we would have succeeded. He is of the opinion that the entire situation should be reported to the Fiihrer.' Significantly, on the 5th, Liebenstein cried: 'When can we expect orders, not criticisms?' And yet, although the roads were crumbling as the first deluge of autumn rain swept down and brought the motorised troops to the pace of the marching men in the glutinous mud, advances were made. For it was no easier for the Russians, of course. They too became mired whenever, in inclement weather, they strove to break the encircling German pincers which thrust southward from Smolensk and (not until 14th September) northward, under Kleist, from Kremenchug. Each despairing Russian thrust was beaten off, though not without moments of crisis and drama. German defensive localities, strung-out like beads in a necklace behind the advancing spearheads, were often rescued in the nick of time by tanks scurrying to their aid. On 16th September Guderian and Kleist joined hands at Lokhvitsa and the encirclement was accomplished. On the operational maps it was made to appear that 3rd Panzer Division completed the job, as indeed it had, but so far as its tank strength was concerned that was but a shadow - a mere 10 roadworthy machines of which 6 were the obsolete PzIIs. Ten days would pass before the spoils of this achievement were harvested, days in which nearly half a million Russian prisoners, over 800 tanks and 3,500 guns fell into German hands. Few escaped. Liebenstein began to piece together the tale of intrigue from above. On the 13th a repentant von Bock told him that he would have liked to send Guderian more divisions but Haider regarded the drive on Moscow as more important. Who then was disobeying orders? Later, on 30th September, it was revealed by Schmundt that '. . . the Fuhrer's intentions were incorrectly executed. Army Group Centre had pursued their own goal towards Moscow. The Fßhrer wants panzer groups to act in unison but he is shy to order it. He played with the idea of having panzer groups under himself as Goring81 has with the Air Fleets'. Of course it would have been almost a unique event in history if there had been total agreement among fellow military commanders over strategy, even surprising had there been a total absence of intrigue. The remarkable aspect of Haider's behaviour at this juncture was his apparent willingness to sacrifice German soldiers to the benefit of his own ambition. The fact that he did so and played a double game boded ill for Guderian. For Haider never forgave the alleged betrayal of 23rd August while his own ommissions he sought to conceal. Having delayed the completion of the Kiev operation he now hastened to restart the attack on Moscow, late as it was in the campaign season. As the pincers closed in the Ukraine, orders were issued that the drive on Moscow was approved at last and was to start with the least delay. Tentatively, on 24th September, Bock fixed 2nd October for the start but withheld confirmation until the 27th when an inevitably complex regrouping and redeployment seemed assured. But there were even more fundamental matters to worry Guderian. On 27th August a liaison officer who had gone to see von Schell in Berlin in an effort to obtain spares for the wheeled vehicles, had returned with Schell's answer: 'We are on the verge of a catastrophe . . . There is a shortage of steel, therefore the production of several kinds of vehicle has had to be cut by as much as 40 per cent.' Liebenstein adds: 'Resupply is often senseless. For instance, sometimes we receive mortar ammunition which contains a high percentage of concrete bombs, or mudguards instead of spare parts for engines'. The hours of daylight were getting short, the weather both colder and wetter. The forces Bock had been promised were spread, before redeployment, between the Leningrad front and Kono124/258
top in the south, their establishment was 15 per cent below strength and their tank strength at a bare 75 per cent - Guderian's was actually down to 50 per cent. But though infantry strengths were low the actual number of tank crewmen was sufficient since their casualties had not been heavy. Fuel stocks were down, transport - horse and motor - beginning to fail on the rough tracks, and, though the railheads were being pushed forward, a shortage of rolling stock was acute. Therefore regrouping was governed by the desire to reduce movement to the minim'um: hence the headquarters of armies found themselves placed over formations with whose personalities they were unfamiliar. For example, Guderian whose command of XLVI Panzer Corps had been relinquished to Hoepner's Panzer Group 4, in the north, took over XLVIII Panzer Corps from Kleist's Panzer Group 1, in the south, because it was geographically convenient to do so. A mere twenty-four hours elapsed between taking command and sending them into action. The shortest distance to Moscow was the 200 miles separating the city from Panzer Groups 3 and 4 where they formed up on either side of Smolensk. That distance represented five days combat motoring in June against a Russian Army which had yet to suffer its first defeat. In September, therefore, the likelihood of reaching the ultimate goal seemed within the bounds of theoretical feasibility, for the Russians were severely depleted, particularly in tanks, and were as badly directed as ever. It mattered less, to German minds, that the two Panzer Groups destined to drive from Yelnya to Moscow should be spread over a 150-mile frontage and that Guderian's Group, to the south, was separated from them by yet another 150 miles. The Germans were becoming accustomed to winning victories with isolated panzer groups which operated on a shoestring, and a measure of their confidence can be found in the nature of Guderian's contribution to Bock's plan. Divorced as he was in space from Panzer Group 4 to his left, he opted to open the attack on 28th September, two days before the rest of the Army Group. Only in that way, since his was a subsidiary operation, could he obtain maximum bomber support, but principally he was concerned with fighting his way into closer company with the other formations since there was insufficient time to redeploy nearer to them while out of contact with the enemy. Moreover he gambled upon reaching the slightly better communication system at Orel before the autumn rains brought about a total collapse of the poor tracks between Konotop and Orel. He knew, as did everybody else, that they were engaged quite as much in a race against the weather and time as against the Russians. As a feat of sheer brilliance in organisation, command, control and improvisation, Guderian's shift through 90 degrees in direction, from a posture of containment of the Kiev pocket on 26th September, to one of outright aggression on the 30th is almost unparallelled. The arrival of 50 new tanks was of assistance though the crews remained those same weary warriors who had fought without cessation for three long months. In fact the battle began even sooner than Bock intended, Guderian launching the newly received XLVIII Panzer Corps in an attack on the 28th to secure the flank of the main thrust that was intended to go northeastwards from Gluchov to Orel This preliminary operation failed. Nevertheless all three Panzer Corps began the main assault on the 30th and made useful headway despite a strong Russian counter-attack and early morning mist which prevented the dive-bombers taking off. The spearheads shot forward and the marching infantry toiled behind, but their progress had been made easy, for not only were the Russians thin to the front, but again they had been entirely taken by surprise since they too, quite logically, thought that the campaigning season was all but over. Von Barsewisch gives a glimpse of Guderian in action, frightening '. . . some waddle papas of the Infantry who have now come to know us and think our kind of war terrible. He derives from it a quiet and warm-hearted pleasure. "You don't think you can secure 10 kilometres with a battalion? What a shame! Just think, I have 300 kilometres of open flank in which there is nothing and that does not bother me in the least. So, therefore, please . . ." ' And on another occasion when their car became stuck in mud, 'Guderian grinned and said "Well, my dear Herr von Barsewisch, we seem to be in the shit" ' - the remark of a true tank man which immensely pleased Barsewisch. Moving at its fastest through heavily wooded territory, Panzer Group 2 advanced 130 miles in two days to capture Orel, completely outpacing the Russian counter-moves and slaughtering de125/258
fenders whose principal aim was escape. In the forests around Bryansk more Russian armies lay trapped and eventually this vital communication centre would be in German hands along with the customary collection of booty. Now Hitler began intervening again with characteristic diversionary directives aimed at taking quick pickings instead of persevering with the main strategic purpose: Kursk was to be taken and the Bryansk pocket squeezed dry even though this meant that the crucial advance upon Tula, once Orel had fallen, was to be denied essential support. Once more the capture of Moscow was to be delayed in favour of a resounding local victory. It was the same story at Vyasma after Bock's principal attack had got well under way and netted another gaggle of Russians. First the Russians and next the weather conspired to change German fortunes. On 6th October Bryansk fell and Guderian's leading division (4th Panzer) ran into the 1 st Russian Tank Brigade with its KV1 and T 34 tanks at Mzensk, a quarter the way to Tula. This was an awesome moment. For the first time the Germans experienced in a big way the threat that Guderian and Nehring had apprehended when they made the discovery on 3rd July. The German tanks were out-fought and the advance brought to a halt through excessive losses. That night the first snows fell. It was a hollow distinction that Panzer Group 2 was renamed Second Panzer Army that day. All at once the situation swung hard against the Germans and for the first time Guderian lost hope. The tale of woe which fills the pages of Panzer Leader sincerely reflects his feelings at the time. The advance died in its tracks and twitched only fitfully in the moments when the state of the roads and the surrounding fields permitted. After each snowfall the thaw would bring a standstill; in the aftermath of every standstill the enemy would be that much better prepared and the process of regaining momentum had to be primed all over again. Moreover options were no longer open for changes of direction and the achievement of surprise. The Russians easily read German intentions and skilfully sited their blocking positions. With every day that passed Guderian1 s thoughts turned anxiously to his soldiers' predicament as opposed to the need for pushing them deeper into Russia. Each visit to the front produced evidence of worsening privations caused by a shortage of boots, shirts and socks - indeed of all kinds of winter clothing. Senior officers were beginning to show signs of exhaustion, though it might have been of himself when he wrote that their problems were 'less physical than spiritual'. For on 21st November at the beginning of a letter to Gretel, in which he wrote of the duties of a commander as 'a misery', he displayed that same extraordinary mixture of hope and despair which had governed him in 1919 at Bartenstein. Even in the dying spasms of the German advance on Moscow he could somehow recognise the smallest trend of a development in his favour - 'step by step'. And yet: 'The demands on the troops are enormous and their performance is admirable. There is no support from above. I must muddle along on my own. Yesterday I was on the brink of despair and my nerves were at an end. Today an unexpected battle success by the brave panzer divisions has given me new hope. Whether it continues remains to be seen ... If the battle allows I intend to go to Army Group to explain our situation and to-find out their intentions for the future ... I cannot imagine how we can have things straight by next spring. Here we are, close to December, and no decision has yet been taken.' This was not the letter of a general whose viewpoint was restricted but that of a commander who thought like a commander-inchief. In Panzer Leader he caustically refers to 'the high spirits in evidence at the OKH and at Army Group Centre', though this was a little hard. It is true that Haider's diary reflects confidence: it is also essential that any superior command should maintain an outwardly confident mien to its subordinates. Guderian did no less himself. But Halder was aware that his belated drive on Moscow was in danger and his reputation with it. Von Barsewisch recorded how' Guderian is outwardly composed but inwardly worried about the bad weather', and quotes Guderian's persuasive encouragement of the troops when he spoke to them: 'Comradeship depends upon mutual frankness ... a big effort now, if we press on, will save far greater suffering in the year to come'. Von Brauchitsch had recently suffered a heart attack, while at Army Group, von Bock was down with stomach cramps, though driving himself to the limit. In due course, with 30 degrees of frost reducing the combat worthiness of men and machines to a mere 20 per cent of efficiency (if that), he would come within sight of Moscow in the north. But Guderian's Second Panzer Army 126/258
(even though it made far more progress, at this time, than the other armies) was stuck near Tula and a count of destroyed tanks on the battlefield revealed that, for the first time, more German than Russian tanks had been destroyed. The KV Is and T 34s were deadly. The moment for something stronger than straight talking to Hitler had long since passed and when, at last, a Generalfeldmarschall lost patience, it was too late. Rundstedt's Army Group South had taken Rostov-on-Don on 20th November, but at once its salient came under intense Russian pressure from both sides. Without seeking permission, Rundstedt did the prudent thing and withdrew - the first retrograde strategic step in German military experience since 1919, And when OKW had instructed him to rescind the order he told them, in a moment of weary exasperation, to find somebody else to do it. Reichenau stepped into his shoes-but the withdrawal continued, and the effect of Rundstedt's resignation only whipped up a wave of resistance to Hitler's authority. Even the SS leader, Sepp Dietrich, told Hitler his approach was wrong. On the eve of a major Russian counter-offensive before Moscow on the 6th December Guderian, Hoepner and Reinhardt presented Bock with a fait accompli and withdrew their leading troops into shelter. Almost simultaneously they came under mounting pressure from the Russians and had to begin a withdrawal. Inevitably equipment, stores and some of the wounded and frost-bitten had to be left behind. Yet the German soldiers continued to fight back and there were no signs of disruption even in the face of defeat. Faced with impending disaster, Guderian is on record for his efforts to gather support from those with influence to bring a halt to the offensive and a withdrawal to refuge. Always, for him, there was safety in movement whether it was forwards or backwards. At the crux of the matter was the need for adequate supplies to sustain the mobility of machines and the well-being of his men. On 23rd November he had detected incomprehension at Army Group and had asked his old comrade-in-arms Balck (who was on a visit to the front from his office job in Germany) to give his pessimistic views to Brauchitsch. The telephone log of Second Panzer Army is a record of Guderian's struggle with Bock to end the winter campaign - a poignant document. On 8th December he was lobbying visiting generals and on the 10th sending written reports to Schmundt, and to Bodewin Keitel in an effort to reach the ear of Hitler. At a meeting at Roslavl on the 14th with Brauchitsch, Bock and Kluge (whose Fourth Army had already made withdrawals) he asked for and received permission to withdraw towards the Susha/Oka river-line covering Orel. At this meeting he was entrusted with the unified command of the southern wing with Second Army as well as Second Panzer Army incorporated into the 'Provisional Army Guderian'. Next day Brauchitsch, reiterating what Guderian had said, told Halder that he saw no way out for the Army. On the 16th Guderian met Schmundt near the front 'at my urgent request', and then wrote to Gretel.'I am now awaiting the F端hrer's call to report to him, first hand, about our state and the measures I think essential. I hope it is not too late ... I do not know how we can get out of it. At any rate the administration must be taken quickly and energetically in hand ... I am glad that the Fuhrer knows the situation and I hope he will intervene with his customary energy to rectify the administrative failures amid the railways and so on. I can never remember being so dominated by my task as now. I hope I can last out. My old sciatica is causing me trouble again. At night I lie sleepless and torture my brain as to what I can do to help my poor men who are unprotected in this crazy weather. It is terrible, unimaginable.' At 0300 hours on the 17th the call from Hitler came through on a bad line. In that it set yet another pattern for the future it was historic. There were sumptuous promises of forthcoming aid by air and then an order - repeated - to stand fast. Germany's fighting generals would get used to such words and harsh demands in the days to come, but Guderian was among the first to hear them - and in the prime knowledge that he listened to the man who was about to downgrade the Army one step further. For Schmundt had told Guderian that Brauchitsch was to be retired and his place taken, not by Guderian or even another soldier, but by Hitler himself. In this way the true spirit of National Socialism was to be injected into the Army and the Head of State and Supreme Commander empowered to give orders to himself. Just then, however, Guderian cared only for those things that were. Liebenstein wrote, apropos the telephone call, The Fuhrer's order to halt, forbidding all evading actions, does not correspond in any way with reality, as it does not correspond with our insufficient strength. Despite all claims and reports it has not been 127/258
understood by those above that we are too weak to defend ourselves'. Guderian proceeded with the withdrawal - Hitler's order notwithstanding. But at last he could see for himself from whence so much of the trouble originated, though he held the belief that Hitler was being misinformed by the optimists in OKH. With his Provisional Army in controlled retreat under corps' commanders who keenly felt their peril, Guderian, on the 17th, asked Bock's approval to fly to Rastenburg for a personal interview with Hitler. Noncommittally Bock let him go; his stomach ailments were worse and he had made up his mind to report sick the next day and take no further part in the campaign. On 17th December Halder began to nag, knowing Guderian was restive, but on the 19th the whole atmosphere changed. Haider was called for by Hitler who informed him that Brauchitsch had been replaced and that, henceforward, operational command would be in the hands of the Fuhrer himself. Bock was to be replaced by Kluge. From now on the Chief of Staff was to be responsible for the Eastern Front, alone, while the other theatres of war were to be controlled by Keitel and Jodl from OKW. Hitler reserved to himself the right to give orders as far down the chain of command as he chose while hiving off to others the chores of a C-in-C which did not interest him. Haider could - perhaps should - have resigned there and then. But he did not and for the reason of old - he felt his first duty was to the Army. So he soldiered on in closer proximity to Hitler, executing orders in which, frequently, he did not really believe. Skirmishing began at once between Kluge and Guderian as soon as Kluge took over from Bock. On the 17th Kluge had told Guderian that the F端hrer's standstill order must be carried out'... in such a way that as much as possible is preserved of the Army. No area is to be given up unnecessarily but neither is it to be held if troops are to be wiped out as a result'. There was flexibility in this, but Guderian replied, ten hours later after talking to Hitler on the telephone, 'I know the Fuhrer's mind. I will do everything I can ... I need freedom of action and cannot ask whenever I want to move a division'. He continued gently to withdraw before the Russian pressure, in compliance with Brauchitsch's earlier directive but contrary to what Hitler demanded. The five-hour meeting with Hitler, when it took place on the 20th, was totally unproductive. Each time Guderian produced evidence of appalling conditions at the front, Hitler brushed it aside with impracticable solutions. When Hitler refuted Guderian's fears of impending doom with an historical analogy, Guderian had a prompt historical retort. A claim by Hitler that winter clothing had actually reached the troops was denied by Guderian with irrefutable proof that it had not. The slightest imputation that OKW did not understand the situation at the front stimulated the F端hrer's indignation and anger. Suggestions that Hitler should bring battle-experienced officers to replace the OKW staff were anathema. Neither convinced the other of his sincerity and purpose and Guderian was compelled to return to the front to make the best of a bad job - to hold where no defensive localities were prepared, to employ equipment that was falling apart and to drive men who were jaded and depressed - though not yet broken. The burden of Kluge's telephone call to Halder was to complain about Guderian's continued withdrawal, and say that Guderian had lost his nerve. Kluge was securing his own position, and so, too, was Haider against any possibility of blame by Hitler. They guarded against Guderian's habit of circumventing authority, a habit from which Kluge had often suffered in the past. And almost at once Guderian was making local withdrawals, although, as the Second Panzer Army telephone log shows, they were within the terms permitted by Kluge on the 17th and with Kluge's expressed authority. The log shows.how Guderian meticulously asked Kluge's permission for each redeployment, their exchanges sounding almost comic by comparison of minute detail with the expansive freedom of the past. Wielding his power Kluge became more than usually patronising: 'You have a sack full of reserves . . . what do you intend to do with them?' he asked on the 24th. 'Haven't you kept an eye on the roads from Bryansk?' 'Why move again?' And to each provocative question Guderian answered calmly, explaining in detail but warning 'that a 25-kilometre gap had opened which had to be filled', to which Kluge blandly replied: 'The sector must be held . . . after speaking to the Fuhrer and Halder I will let you know.' A few hours later the town of Chern was reported as lost and Kluge instantly took this opportunity to accuse Guderian of having ordered its evacuation twenty-four hours previously. Guderian 128/258
denied it and there were hot words. But next day Kluge felt fully justified in his primary suspicions when the units, which had been holding Chern, arrived back escorting several hundred Russian prisoners. Kluge blankly accused Guderian of sending a deliberately falsified report and announced thai the matter would be reported to Hitler. At that Guderian impulsively asked to be relieved of his command. But Kluge, who recorded in his diary, 'I am basically in agreement with Guderian but he must obey orders', beat him in the act and recommended at once that he should be removed. There was no hesitation on Hitler's part either. To him, at thai moment, Guderian was just another rebellious senior product of the General Staff who, as Goebbels put it,'.. . are incapable of withstanding severe strain and major tests of character'. Over thirty more generals were categorised that way in December and relegated to the ranks of the disaffected. And yet, ironically, Guderian, at this moment of ugliest adversity, had performed at his best-never before or again does he appear to such advantage by force of personality in leadership or with such innate comprehension of what operationally had needed to be done. Under his hand the troops of Second Panzer Army demonstrated that a flexible withdrawal in winter conditions was within their capacity - and thus he refuted the Hitlerian contention (so willingly approved by a large body of German generals both during and after the event) that if the troops had been permitted a wholesale withdrawal, a rot that transcended French experience in 1812 would have set in. Surpassing even his ability in the techniques of command, however, was his willing cutting of losses that led to the sacrifice of his own career in the service of what he believed to be right. In this way he led his contemporaries and became set upon a course of resistance that converged ever more sharply upon collision with the F端hrer. Indeed, Paul Dierichs says that in his farewell address to his staff Guderian included hard criticism of Hitler's decision. But for the time being he had no option but to retire from the fray and look on in anger.
The Road to Lotzen Gradually the world and, last of all, Germany became aware of the wholesale dismissal of the military leaders who so recently had won such terrific victories. Among the thirty who went only Brauchitsch's removal was given much publicity, and that in order to boost the Fiihrer's reputation as the new C-in-C. Guderian's sacking, announced almost at once to his own Second Panzer Army by an Order of the Day and repeated with distress by successive lower formation commanders, was withheld from the public, so that by the time more people came to hear indirectly that one of their heroes was no longer in office, fresh champions had been elevated by the propagandists. One of these was Erwin Rommel whose riposte in Cyrenaica in January 1942, after a serious set-back at the hands of the British at the end of 1941, did much to distract attention from those things which had gone wrong in the Russian theatre of war. Guderian cared little about the loss of personal publicity. When a journalist began research for a potted biography, he had written words of caution to Gretel, in September 1941, asking her to withhold intimate material: 'I would not under any circumstances like becoming involved with propaganda a la Rommel'. But when one has become accustomed to working at full throttle and living expensively upon nerves and physique in conditions of high tension and discomfort over a period of years, a sudden relaxation along with inactivity can be as physically damaging as if full stress was maintained. In Guderian's case a heart condition appeared in March and got worse the following autumn. Simultaneously strains of another sort were substituted for those of battle and persuasion which had buffeted him most. Alongside a nagging patriotic concern over the waning state of Germany's fortunes, grew knowledge of a new peril, the realisation that he was being watched by several kinds of inquisitive people - by the agents of Nazidom, on the one hand, as they investigated his reactions to punishment; by historians who searched for information of an academic kind; and later by the emissaries of a resistance movement who probed his willingness to join their conspiracy. Furthermore Gretel caused him worry when she was confined to bed for several months in the spring with malignant blood-poisoning. In this state of anxiety Guderian half-heartedly hunted for repose in the sun, for a small house near Lake Constance. There seemed little else to do since, in September 1942, he was told that Hitler looked unfavourably on a suggestion by Rommel that he was the best man to take command of Panzer 129/258
Army Afrika. But since there was no intention of employing him again Hitler, by recompense, offered him land in the Warthegau, once part of Prussia, and retaken from the Poles by conquest in 1939. This was put forward as a national donation to one who, when the Russian campaign seemed all but won on 17th July 1941, had been honoured with the rare Oak Leaves to the Knight's Cross. He accepted and in October 1942 took possession of 2,500 acres of good farmland at Deipenhof. Post-war accusations as to Guderian's cupidity led him to justify the deal in Panzer Leader on the grounds that, since his home in Berlin had been bombed, he had nowhere else to go. His son is more explicit in denying any suggestion of profit but frankly stating that the .return of the family to the homeland and the policy to strengthen the German population in the Warthegau were problems of which the family was conscious. It is instructive to observe the fervour with which he approached the traditional role of a landowning Junker. Partly, it seems, he wished to occupy, and thus relax, an active mind, but additionally the change in occupation was welcome for the opportunity it gave of indulging in family life. With the barest rudimentary knowledge and little enough preparation, apart from study in books, he began stock holding and breeding, throwing in the same wholehearted enthusiasm that he had given to soldiering - projecting his objectives far into the distance and planning with meticulous thoroughness. His letters of instruction to Gretel abound with administrative directions. Sheep and cattle were to be the staple of Deipenhof s economy. The presentation of a prize bull (named Panzer-grenadier) by the farmers of Schleswig-Holstein got him off to a good start. He learned the basic rules and, as usual, was filled with optimism. It is endemic that soldiers, the world over, tend to harbour a sublime belief in the value of a military career for teaching good husbandry. Though the statistics of bankruptcy show grimly against them, there are always retired Servicemen ready to try their luck. Whether or not Guderian would have prospered where others had failed neither time nor events would allow. The war intruded. He never quite gave up hope of a recall to command - hope, after all, was the last thing he- ever abandoned. In September, in the course of final negotiations about Deipenhof, he called wistfully on Bodewin Keitel. But once more Gretel's kinsman told him that the chances of re-employment were poor, worse than ever. Bodewin might be the brother of Wilhelm, but his influence counted far less than before and within a matter of a few days he was to be replaced by Schmundt. As Germany's fortunes slipped into decline, power fell into the hands of men who were hostile to the old order. The revolutions of 1919 and 1933 were at last bearing full but sour fruit. By this time, moreover, it was well known that, within the inner circles of Government, the slightest false move in opposition by an Army officer could lead, at the very least, to instant dismissal. Jodl had experienced a narrow escape in September 1942 and, after a painful rebuff by Hitler, had confided to Warlimont that'. . . one should never try to point out to a dictator where he was wrong since this will shake his confidence . . .' And Warlimont himself had been temporarily relieved of duty by Wilhelm Keitel in November 1942 for an intervention in support of a Duty Officer, a Major who had withstood Hitler in an effort to defend Rommel's integrity: '. . . only by the skin of his teeth' did that major 'escape being shot within ten minutes', writes Warlimont. Henceforward the slightest direct resistance to Hitler by an Army officer was fraught with dire retribution. Therefore common sense stood on the side of those who, like Guderian, chose mainly indirect methods of opposition, seizing rare propitious moments for direct confrontation. What use was there, they could argue, in needless self-sacrifice when, by currently playing softly, they might later find an opportunity to influence affairs by subterfuge? Gretel's advice 'The Fatherland will need you later on, the moment has not come' held as good in 1942 as it did in 1919. An overriding fear among the generals was the growth of Himmler's SS. The original Waffen SS units had sprouted into a large private army composed of divisions which soon would compose corps and eventually armies. Even Goring's Luftwaffe, though it faced eclipse in the air because its technology was falling behind that of its opponents, continued to benefit from immense prestige. The SS and Luftwaffe, rich in the favour granted to Nazi-orientated organisations, absorbed the best of the manpower and had first pick of industrial resources. Only towards the end of 1941, when the catastrophe prophesied by von Schell was imminent, was the Army given equal production priority with the Luftwaffe. 130/258
The eventual defeat of Russian and British offensives in the winter of 1941/42 revived German hopes, of course, and led to further deep German penetrations the followjng summer which carried them to Stalingrad, into the Caucasus and to within a few miles of the Suez Canal at El Alamein. But none of these achievements brought a conclusion-quite the opposite. A universal halt in the autumn was rapidly followed by reverses in winter. First the British blow at El Alamein, conjoint with Allied landings in north-west Africa, threw the logistically impoverished Axis forces back into Tunisia. Then a Russian counter-offensive led swiftly to the isolation of the Stalingrad garrison and the eventual evacuation of the Caucasus. These catastrophes, accompanied by minor Hitlerian repressions, such as those mentioned above, and by his perpetual vacillations, threw a heavy strain upon the Staff. Life for Halder became unbearable and it was a relief to almost everybody when he was sacked on 25th September and replaced by the very junior Generalleutnant Kurt Zeitzler82. Zeitzler was reputed to be sympathetic to Hitler and undeniably possessed a virtue much prized by the Fiihrer - supreme optimism. Almost at once he gave to Hitler what all new Chiefs of Staff felt bound to do - a concession by the Army. In his case it was the promulgation of the Hitlerian qualifications for a staff officer: 'I require the following from every Staff Officer: he must believe in the Fuhrer and in his method of command. He must on every occasion radiate this confidence to his subordinates and those around him'. Nobody challenged it. Also in the manner of his predecessors Zeitzler rapidly came into collision with his Fuhrer over both operational and administrative policy. Hitler decided personally to influence key Army postings and took direct charge of Bodewin Keitel's Personnel Office. But although Bodewin was no longer able to help Guderian, this was not cripplingly disadvantageous. Guderian remained on good terms with the powerful Schmundt, whom he rated a genteel and sound officer, and continued to enjoy useful relationships with influential members of the Waffen SS and Luftwaffe. In 1942 Sepp Dietrich, an old landsknecht and Freikorps man, had gone out of his way to tell Hitler that Guderian had been unjustly treated in December 1941 and, early in 1942, had publicly demonstrated feelings of respect for his old commander. Guderian reciprocated. Dietrich, to him, was the personification of the men whom, in 1919, he had regarded as' the real fighters' and 'Germany's last hope'. He cared not at all if this contributed to his reputation as a Nazi sympathiser. So Guderian had friends as well as enemies at court, though it is doubtful if the enemies were anything like as all-powerful as sometimes, without stating names, he implies in Panzer Leader. Inevitably there were those with vested interests who resisted him: he was uncomfortable company among traditionalists and the memory of his single-minded assault on Cavalry, Infantry and Artillery sensibilities besides his rudeness to those, such as the members of the Training Department, who had obstructed him, were never forgiven. Officers whose susceptibilities had suffered and who, at last, had seen what they took to be his back, were not in the least bit anxious for his return. Besides, the gunners, quite sincerely, believed they had at last discovered a way to recover their old predominance. Not only had they equipped themselves with a kind of tank - the armoured assault guns - but they were in possession of a new type of low-velocity anti-tank shell, that worked on the hollow charge principle, which, they told Hitler, might make the tank obsolete overnight. They overlooked, somewhat, the problem of hitting pin-points with low velocity projectiles - but Hitler was enthused and that was what mattered. Tank production and development reacted as much to the seesawing of Hitler's whims and uneducated assessments as did strategy and tactics. Like a great many politicians he was content to leave well alone until something obviously had gone wrong. Crash-remedial action was then demanded to solve the crisis. Foresight was at a premium. That the appearance of the Russian T 34 tank in July 1941 had hardly registered its danger is recorded above. Not until these machines appeared in large numbers, three months' later, was serious notice taken of Guderian's initial warning and a concentrated effort made, in November 1941, at Guderian's desperate insistence, to hasten the current, lethargic programme of re-equipment. He had pressed for more powerful tanks and, in addition, for self-propelled anti-tank guns - Panzerjadgers. This brought an astonishing retort in a letter from OKH, 'I only regret that the demand was not made six years ago. We should now be in a different position'. This, as Liebenstein wrote, was received by Guderian 131/258
as a personal insult: 'There is no other officer who has fought harder than he for better tanks. His demand for 40mm armour was refused years ago and the same can be said over armament50mm guns were demanded before 1934'. The rebuff before Moscow galvanised Hitler in all manner of ways, tank development being but one of them. Being Fuhrer he now demanded instant miracles - increased production and a new, much more powerful tank to defeat the T 34. In January 1942 he was presented with the design of a tank that, it was hoped, would outmatch T 34's successor - a new medium tank, known as VK 3000, a machine which eventually would weigh 45 tons and, with its long 75mm L 70 gun, be called 'Panther5. In addition the .heavy tank, based upon Guderian's prewar conception of a 'Break-through Tank' and projected in 1939, was nastened into production: this would be 'Tiger', weigh 56 tons, and be armed with the 88mm L 56 gun. But long before these heavily armoured tanks could be put into production (a few Tigers were ready by the autumn of 1942, the first Panthers in the spring of 1943) something had to be done to restore the tank balance in 1942. This, in fact, was quite easily achieved by increasing the armour - in 1943 80 mm was barely sufficient on the original Pz Bis and IVs - and re-arming them, respectively, with a long 50mm (L60) and a long 75mm (L46) gun. In addition the number of self-propelled guns - Panzerjagers, Sturmgeschutz and artillery - were to be increased to give closer armoured assistance to the infantry and to stiffen anti-tank defence. These machines were based on existing chassis - both obsolete and new. This vast programme - the sort which had been rejected as impracticable in the summer of 1940 - incurred enormous outlay since increases in the production of existing tanks progressed alongside the development of new machines with radical specification. But introducing new models meant disrupting and then stopping present production. In December 1942, as the panzer divisions came under intolerable pressure in Russia and the Allied effort built up to unprecedented heights in what was, predominantly, a tank war in North Africa, Pz III was taken out of production. At first Hitler followed the advice tendered to him by the officers who represented tank interests at the higher levels of command and by the leading industrialists. They laid down the philosophy that tank design should be based, in order of priority, on armament, speed and armour. This in no way contradicted Guderian's beliefs, even though he worried that many of the army officers involved 'did not have a clear conception from their own experience of the development of modern panzer forces'. Unfortunately neither these officers nor the industrialists were complete masters (or mastered) within their own house. On 8th February 1942 Dr Todt had been killed in a crash and his place as Minister for Armaments taken by Hitler's favourite - the architect Albert Speer83. Speer was a remarkable man and a superb organiser, but he knew nothing about tanks or any other sort of weaponry. He had to lean on experts, and the experts had vested interests. For example, industrialists vied with each other to favour their pet concepts and designs. In a competitive trial between two tank types anything might happen: it was quite customary for materials of ridiculously high quality to be used in a test vehicle, well knowing that the production machine could not be similarly supplied. And if a maverick designer of the verve and ambition of, to quote the supreme example, Dr Porsche, did not get his way in committee or by trial he was perfectly capable of making a direct approach to Hitler, whose susceptibilities to the gigantically dramatic were familiar. In consequence, throughout 1942 and despite the agreed order of priorities laid down in January, Hitler indulged in the habitual game of digression. Some off-hand mention of a new threat or idea would stimulate fresh fears. The product might be discussions about a host of counterprojects, some sound, many fanciful and useless, with the danger that bad things could be initiated. Yet by the skin of its teeth and the dedicated efforts of the commonsense few, the central programme was maintained and improved. Battleworthy tanks began to reach the troops at the front. Even so, in October 1942, total production of Pz IVs was only 100. Appalling wastage in an overstrained and badly organised industrial base" was compounded by a multitude of different permutations of self-propelled gun. An extraordinary number of variations, along with redoubled armour thicknesses, were tried in efforts to defeat every sort of enemy attack. Work went ahead on a tank weighing well over 100 tons and there was talk of a truly bizarre monster weighing 1,000 tons. While Speer successfully carried out a rapid and amazingly effective 132/258
reorganisation of industry, he was quite unable to control its products because nobody could curb Hitler's military intuition at its most fantastic. A moment was to arise in February 1943 when the panzer divisions in Russia, recoiling before the storm of the Russian offensive, could muster, on average, a mere 27 tanks each. And yet by common consent, and despite the gunners' fond expectations, the tank obstinately provided the key to survival in mobile warfare fought over vast frontages. Guderian writes in Panzer Leader that'... the few men of insight in Hitler's military entourage began to look around for someone who might be capable, even at this late hour, of staving off the chaos that threatened us all. My prewar writings were placed on Hitler's desk and they managed to persuade him to read them. It was then proposed to him that he send for me. Finally they succeeded in overcoming Hitler's distrust of my person to the extent that he agreed to listen to me at least once.' A slight mystery surrounds the names of the officers concerned but all, in fact, is made clear by an entry on 28th February 1943 in the official diary of the Chief of the HPA - by now Schmundt who had taken over from Bodewin Keitel: “Chief HPA has for some time recommended Generaloberst Guderian to the Führer giving as reason that he is one of his most faithful followers in the General Staff. During long discussions on 25th and 26th February . . . the Fiihrer has convinced himself that he could trust Generaloberst Guderian with this responsible post” General Engel also helped, but it was Schmundt, quite obviously, who carried on where von Below had failed in 1941. Guderian is right, therefore, to give the impression that it was difficult to persuade Hitler to take him back - the Führer's deep-seated mistrust of anybody who had once challenged him was never completely dispelled. Yet Hitler was capable of a semblance of forgiveness if it suited him: Rundstedt who had been retired by him in 1938 at the time of the Fritsch crisis, had been brought back in 1939-and Rundstedt had been forgiven in 1942 for his temerity in 1941. Moreover Hitler now felt in need of something more potent than advice. His confidence had been shaken by the failure of the operations under his personal direction. His intuition had proven fallible. He needed independent executives. On the Eastern Front he all at once gave Manstein unusual freedom of action to stem the advancing Russian armies in the Ukraine. On 20th February Manstein hurled them back upon Kharkov when their fuel ran out. That same afternoon, Guderian, having stated to Schmundt the terms for his reinstatement in an appointment of his own design - to be called Inspector General of Armoured Troops - had an interview with the Fiihrer. Guderian perceived Hitler's mood of uncertainty and reports him as saying' Since 1941 our ways have parted: there were numerous misunderstandings at that time which I much regret. I need you.' It is possible that, in a troubled moment, this most insincere of politicians, for once, spoke the truth. It would be equally likely that he won his way back into Guderian's trust in the innate knowledge that a man he had previously failed to convince could be persuaded to help only by a display of warm humility and abnegation. As the product of this meeting and a round of talks with key personalities, Guderian drafted a charter for Hitler's signature embodying the authority which had been denied in 1938. In the opening paragraph Hitler was made to state that the Inspector General'... is responsible to me for the future development of armoured troops along the lines that will make that arm of the Service into a decisive weapon for winning the war. The Inspector General is immediately subordinate to me, has the status of a Commander-in-Chief of an Army, and is the Senior Officer of the Panzer Command.' Guderian's responsibilities, as drafted, were to include organisation and training not only over Army units but also, where appropriate, those of the Luftwaffe and Waffen SS. Close collaboration with Albert Speer was called for in the technical development of weapons, along with the creation of new formations and tactical doctrine. He was given direct command, too, over all Replacement Units of mobile troops including the home-based schools. Finally he was authorised to issue regulations. In effect he had at last achieved the aim of making a self-sufficient combat force within the Wehrmacht, endowing it with much of the military status already enjoyed by the SS and the Luftwaffe and even, as one day would prove, a small measure of political power. Guderian's charter looks remarkably similar to a document which had been drafted by his opposite number - Percy Hobart - in England in the autumn of 1940 when the state of Britain's Army 133/258
and armoured forces was as parlous in the wake of Dunkirk as was Germany's in the aftermath of Stalingrad. Hobart had suggested to Winston Churchill the creation of a Commander of the Royal Armoured Corps with status equal to that of an Army Councillor and powers almost identical to those attained by Guderian. Winston Churchill's most senior generals - Generals Dill and Brooke (both of them gunners) opposed the idea. But the Prime Minister was not prepared to override them in the same way as Hitler, though he was later to express regret at not having done so. In Britain a system similar to that which had evolved in Germany in 1938 was the result. There was also a difference in approach between Hobart and Guderian. Whereas Hobart did not feel himself fitted (for reasons of abrasive personalities) to the supreme task, Guderian never for one moment doubted that he alone was the man for the job, regardless of the opposition. Commenting on his charter after the war he wrote: 'Disadvantageous results from this organisation are unknown to the author.' Not everybody would have agreed with that profession of faith. The artillerists grumbled and managed to snatch the anti-tank units from Guderian's clutches - to his unspeakable rage - but for the most part the fighting soldiers heaved a sigh of relief that Guderian was reinstated. So too did Speer who at last found himself teamed with a man with sole responsibility whose sense of urgency and system braced him in standing firmly by rational ideas and commitments. Very soon the fighting soldiers, those who mattered so much, would know that 'Schnelle Heinz was back' and with him the hope that the changes they had asked for would be implemented. He took post on 1st March. In a document, prepared for the Americans shortly after the war, he described the methods and organisation employed. 'Training and organisation were each controlled by a General Staff officer and each branch of the Panzer Command was represented by war-experienced officers, most of whom were not fit for active duty because of serious injuries .. . The duty of these specialists was the development of their branch and the issue of regulations written by special commissions composed of officers with fresh experience at the front. These commissions worked under the supervision of the agency for regulations at the Panzer Command School.' By his insistence upon employing war-experienced officers, Guderian practised what he had been preaching regularly to the OKW and OKH whose senior staff officers, he maintained, were hopelessly out of touch with reality since they were innocent of active service since 1918. For his Chief of Staff Guderian selected Oberst Wolfgang Thomale84, 'an ardent tank man' and a staff officer of immense capability. Their partnership was complete - far more, perhaps, than is generally realised. The sub-division of their duties was precise. Upon his appointment Guderian said, with a grin, 'One of us must travel and the other run the office. I will travel!' It is fairly obvious that Guderian regarded his appointment as of wider scope than anybody else intended. Speaking to the Americans after 1945 he said that he '... considered it his mission to obtain personal insight into the character of his superiors and co-workers and to make immediate proposals based on his own experience with the troops as circumstances required. Therefore the staff was billetted in the vicinity of the Fiihrer's headquarters and that of the Chief of the General Staff in order that he might remain in constant touch with the command of the Wehrmacht and the Army.' At the same time Thomale set up an office in the Bendlerstrasse in Berlin, and began one of the most intensive spells of activity any chief of staff could experience, working with enthusiasm for a man he describes as 'Germany's best and most responsible general'. These are not the achievements of a man who was unduly crippled by ill-health, although this factor, in connection with Guderian, has to be examined. Ill-health, frequently incurred through fatigue and a rugged determination to remain in office regardless of the consequences, has diminished the performance of many senior officers, and statesmen too for that matter. It will do so again. Hugh L'Etang, in his study The Pathology of Leadership, cites Guderian's heart condition as a weakness, remarking, in general terms, that 'Fatigue tends to be the fate of the ambitious, the conscientious or the idealistic. It is rarely experienced by the astute, the lazy or the clever . .. who may go to considerable trouble to avoid the condition'. The reader is at liberty to categorise the mildly hypochondriac Guderian, but there is little evidence to suggest that a heart condition, real as it was, detracted from his performance. When he occasionally collapsed it was usually after some marathon performance in conference when he had excelled himself. Possibly 134/258
he reached this state as the result of burning himself out over the previous decade and perhaps this heightened the violence of his choler. But the production of choler in the presentation of his policy of'absolute frankness' had by now become part of an act. His elder son, who was very close to his father, does not believe that the heart condition had much effect and believes, too, that his father merely performed as he would have done whatever his health. Incidentally, Guderian did not eventually die of a heart complaint. In less than a week of feverish work a policy for tank construction and the reconstruction of the panzer forces had been hammered out for presentation to Hitler. Rationalisation was its keynote. Bizarre projects were set aside and an extraordinary scheme to stop production of the Pz IV as well as the Pz III, before the Panther and Tiger were either in full production or proven, was rescinded. In essence it proposed revised establishments for the panzer divisions, to take account of the new equipment that was coming into service, and attempted to prevent the formation of Luftwaffe and Waffen SS panzer divisions. Whereas Army panzer divisions, in theory, were to possess only 190 tanks (of which most were Pz IVs), those of the SS would be well above 200. Yet eventually all sorts of variations were implemented since the combination of war and Nazi anarchy defied a uniform system. Without reservation Guderian supported the introduction of the long 75 and the 88mm guns. Almost any sort of increased armament was welcome to him, including the provision of 20mm and 75mm guns on armoured personnel carriers - the outcome of talks with the troops at the front. The most controversy surrounded assault artillery (Sturmgeschutz)85. Now that Guderian himself was convinced of the need for these machines, he wished only that their design should be regularised so that tank production would not suffer (rightly he appreciated that the tank with its rotating turret was a far more potent all-purpose weapon system than a vehicle with a gun that had only limited traverse), and that the whole lot should come under him. To all intents and purposes he had his way over design but'the matter of command led to difficulty. The presentation of Guderian's plan took place before Hitler and a large gathering of interested people on 9th March - clean contrary to Guderian's hope that he would be able to push it through a select group and thus avoid a prolonged debate with hostile, vested interests. Bureaucracy and sectionalism won after four hours of dialectic battle. At the end he collapsed and in the outcome lost control of the assault guns and failed in the attempt to veto the Waffen SS and Luftwaffe panzer divisions - his main aim being consolidation of the old and tried Army divisions instead of a proliferation of new, inexperienced ones. (It is of interest to observe Guderian's reaction to this defeat in the pages of Panzer Leader, for while he rails at the gunners and Schmundt, he defers mild criticism of the SS and Luftwaffe who also frustrated him. In fact, he gives the impression at this point in the book that they fell into line: only later does he mention an unavailing attempt to save his point with both Himmler and the Luftwaffe Chief of Staff). So, once more, he had to make do with second best, and then begin a long round of visits to training establishments, factories, experimental stations and, of course, the units at the front. From these numerous and all-embracing contacts, plus the flow of information accumulated by his staff, he assembled a clear picture of Germany's failing position and the irrational methods that were being employed to counteract it. Most of all he came to understand as never before, even in the closing days of 1941, the utterly pernicious effect of Hitler and his close entourage. Though not at once admitting it, there is little doubt that, with this profounder understanding, came a delayed realisation of the reasons for much else that had gone wrong in the past. At last he could appreciate the difficulties suffered by Brauchitsch, Haider, Rundstedt, Bock, Kleist and the rest - he might even have spared passing sympathy to Kluge. But whereas Guderian made peace with most of his past opponents, unhappily he was never able to bridge the gap with Haider and Kluge. After the war, when he and Haider were in American custody, an attempt (on GuderiarTs initiative) to bring a reconciliation failed because of Haider's refusal. Death prevented a reconciliation with Kluge, though it is doubtful if an understanding was ever possible. In May 1943, in an atmosphere of latent hostility, they met for the first time since their clash of December 1941. Guderian, with bluff indifference, told Kluge - 'my special friend', as he once called him! - how deeply he felt about his dismissal and that he had never been given satisfaction despite the subsequent clarification of the situation as it had really been. Kluge interpreted the 135/258
word 'satisfaction' in its strictest Prussian relation to 'honour' and wrote asking Hitler for permission to challenge Guderian to a duel, with Hitler to act as his second. Hitler told them, by implication, to stop behaving like children and settle their quarrel - and instructed Guderian to apologise. Guderian's tendency to overtrust some people, contrasting sharply with his implacable enmity with anybody found seriously wanting, was a sharp cornerstone of his character - and, in one instance in particular, has a distinct bearing upon history. As a member of the unemployed in 1942, he was tentatively sounded by the resistance conspirators asking if he would join them. General der Infanterie Friedrich Olbricht was all at once very attentive and tried to enmesh him in the plot though, at the time, Guderian could not understand why since their previous association had been distant. Schlabrendorff in his 1946 book correctly indicates that approaches were made by Dr Carl Goerdeler, von Tresckow, and General der Artillerie Friedrich von Rabenau86, though Wheeler-Bennett, who leans quite heavily upon Schlabrendorff in The Nemesis of Power, is mistaken when he states that Guderian made '... no mention of these earlier approaches'. In Panzer Leader the contacts with Goerdeler and Tresckow are described in some detail, and that with Rabenau implied. The substance of the meetings with Goerdeler are the subject of a post-war affidavit sworn by Guderian. However, if Guderian is correct when he says that Goerdeler asserted, in April 1943, that the assassination of Hitler was not contemplated, this was an important contradiction by the conspirators. According to Schlabrendorff an abortive attempt had already been made in March, one in which he had been deeply involved - and of which he was, by 1946, the only surviving witness. More repellant than anything- else to Guderian was the disclosure by Goerdeler that the controller of the conspiracy was none other than Beck - an officer whose Christian character Guderian did not impugn but whose procrastination and incapacity for taking quick decisions seemed at variance with the requirements of a risky coup d'etat. Goerdeler, who is described by Schlabrendorff as a man with '. . . ability to talk to people from all walks of life and in each case find the right words to win them all over . . .' singularly failed to charm Guderian, besides several more hard-headed, serving senior officers, including Manstein. Officers, such as Witzleben and Hoepner, who had been harshly treated by Hitler, joined the conspiracy in 1943, while, of those in office, Kluge hopped off and on the fence to their support. Guderian makes his position at that time perfectly clear: 'The weaknesses and mistakes of the National-Socialist system and the personal errors that Hitler made were by then plain to see - even to me: attempts must be made to remedy them. In view of the dangerous situation as a result of the Stalingrad catastrophe and of the demand made [by the Allies] for unconditional surrender ... a way would have to be found that did not lead to a disaster for the country and the people ... I came to the conclusion that Dr Goerdeler's plan would be harmful... and was, furthermore, incapable of being put into practice; I therefore declined to take part in it. Like the rest of the Army, I also felt myself bound by the oath of allegiance . . ,' Even so Guderian claims that, at Goerdeler's request, he undertook to sound various generals at the front. Eventually he was compelled to report no support, but adds that he gave Goerdeler his word not to divulge their conversations, and maintains that he kept it until 1947 when he saw the matter mentioned in Schlabrendorff s book. Schlabrendorff, for his part, in 1946, stated that Rabenau had felt the need to threaten Guderian with disclosure of his involvement in the plot in order to prevent a leakage - though he did not repeat this allegation in the 1951 edition or in the 1965 book. Gretel told her elder son that Rabenau threatened Guderian's life. In any case it shows how little the conspirators understood Guderian if they imagined he could be silenced in that way - or that it was necessary to threaten once he had given his word. None of those generals who were contacted, and who refused to commit themselves, divulged the threat to Hitler. This was hardly surprising in the aftermath of Stalingrad, for by then the writing was plainly on the wall - even to optimists like Guderian. Each in his own way was trying to find a solution to a desperate situation - but the vast majority preferred constitutional and non-violent methods. And, being disciplined soldiers, they reasoned that their part was to create the conditions of military stability from which the politicians could negotiate in strength. It is unlikely that a single senior officer, apart from sycophants like Keitel, would have wept many 136/258
tears if Hitler had been deposed - legally or illegally - and it is an essential aspect of Guderian's story that he was among those who tried to bring that about by a gradual process of limitation through reduction of the Fiihrer's responsibilities. He is no more to be criticised for his failures than the conspirators are for theirs; the latter's ineptitude in implementing plans had, until then, been pusillanimous. While they plotted, Guderian was compiling new and irrefutable evidence of the need for changes in methods and among the actual leadership - and coming to realise the almost wholly insuperable problem of bringing this about. Yet a desperate moment might come, even for him, when almost any release from perfidy would seem blessed. Tapping the loyalties of field commanders cannot have absorbed very much of Guderian's time as he toured Europe in his endeavours to find quick solutions to a thousand problems, many of which had awaited an answer far too long. Everywhere he encountered an atmosphere of omnipresent crisis. Though a measure of stability had been achieved on the Russian front, the failure of the. Russian logistical system, quite as much as German prowess, had brought it about, and here the steady refurbishing of the armoured forces was constantly inhibited by prodigal waste. The formations at the front were too weak and had been only parsimoniously refitted with new tanks. Those tanks in service were hampered by lack of spares because, as Speer writes: 'Hitler insisted upon giving priority to new production which could have been reduced by 20 per cent if we had made provisions for proper repairs'. As it was the field workshops stripped everything from tanks which broke down with the result that, when that tank's carcass arrived back in Germany for reworking, practically nothing of value remained and a total and costly rebuild was inevitable. A fruitful and crucial relationship sprang up between Guderian and Speer, both of whom were bent upon making better use of Germany's resources for what they saw as the common good. So seductive was Guderian's persuasiveness that he actually managed to obtain for the Panzerwaffe materials and manufacturing capacity that previously had been exclusively Luftwaffe property. Hence the Luftwaffe, plagued by misguidance from Goring and the errors of some among his favourites, found itself shorn of facilities as the air attack upon German industry mounted in intensity. To airmen sold on the dream of air power, this seemed a pernicious blow to Germany's hopes of survival though it is equally certain that, now as always in the past, they also exaggerated their case. Far more destructive than administrative chaos, however, was the irrevocable and repeated commitment of Army formations to lost situations. To within a-few days of the final collapse of the Axis forces in North Africa in the first week of May, fresh troops were still being sent across the sea. A last minute plan to evacuate the key personnel of the tank forces by air, strenuously supported by Guderian, came to nothing with the result that what could have been cadres for many fresh units and formations were needlessly lost. At about the same time the plans for an offensive against the Russians were in course of discussion. The Chief of Staff, Zeitzler, had proposed to Hitler an enveloping attack against the Kursk salient where it invitingly jutted out towards the west. When the idea had been mooted in April by Manstein, for implementation on the driedout ground in early May with the relatively weak panzer forces then available, the Russian defences were still weak enough to proffer a reasonable chance of success. Early in May, however, it seemed apparent that the Russians were forewarned (as they were) because the defences were being vigorously and noticeably strengthened. But by then Hitler had become enthused and was demanding, with political, propaganda motives, a dramatic victory that employed as many as possible of the new Tiger and Panther tanks. This requirement imposed delays to enable these machines to be brought forward in large numbers straight from production. At once Guderian was drawn into a direct confrontation with Zeitzler and Hitler, pointing out not only the continuing and inevitable mechanical deficiencies of the new tanks with their unfamiliarised crews, but also the pointlessness of striking at Kursk: 'How many people do you think even know where Kursk is?' he claims to have asked Hitler. And Hitler - who once said that he knew 'with whom of my people I can allow myself this [scornful disregard] and with whom I cannot' - had actuated his Guderian - de flection device by appearing to agree while persevering unheedingly with what he instinctively preferred. As was his policy, Guderian struggled to penetrate the places of decision in order to influence 137/258
overall strategy. Though once more he could drive to the front, speak to the crews, and watch the tanks in action - as he did when the Kursk offensive at last began, after repeated delays, on 4th July - essentially he had risen above the battlefield environment and was bent on changing Hitler's habits along with those of OKW and OKH. At Kursk the tired and grimy crews described what he had feared and expected. Failure. The Panthers, in particular, had given trouble with running gear that broke down and optics which did not allow the tank gunners to make full use of the excellent, long 75mm gun. The Tigers, too, broke down while a number of the latest most heavily armoured self-propelled guns, the Ferdinands, suffered tactical reverses because of their inability to fend off Russian infantry once they became separated from their escort: invulnerably armoured and heavily armed with an 88mm gun, they had only one machine-gun for close defence. But, fundamentally, the failure at Kursk was due to the employment of a faulty plan which lacked the element of strategic as well as tactical surprise. In the high courts of power he met men whose aims and methods were often quite contrary to his own. In Guderian's judgement the defeat at Kursk was decisive because '... it damaged the German Army to an irreparable degree and the loss of the war dates from this defeat even more than from that at Stalingrad. The Russians had comparatively small losses and struck back after the German attack, leading to renewed breakthroughs and retreats on the part of the Germans'. It would, he said, '. . . affect the establishment of a defensive front against invasion in the West. . .' The primary target for his disappointment at the defeat at Kursk was Zeitzler, but Zeitzler merely suffered from the ailments wished upon him by his predecessors - and this Guderian now came to realise. Albert Speer, who supported Guderian through thick and thin even in his attempts to curb the members of Hitler's entourage, was now instrumental, at Guderian's request, in setting up a meeting with Zeitzler in his own house at Obersaltzburg. Ostensibly it was to settle '. . . some disputes . . . springing from unresolved jurisdictional questions . . . But it turned out that Guderian had more in mind than the settlement of minor disputes. He wanted to discuss common tactics in regard to the matter of a new Commander-in-Chief of the Army.' Speer continues: 'The differences between Zeitzler and Guderian quickly dwindled to nothing. [It is certainly noticeable that, from the late summer onwards, Guderian's attitude to Zeitzler softened.] The conversation centred upon the situation that had arisen from Hitler assuming command of the Army but not exercising it. The interests of the Army as against the two other branches of the services and the SS must be represented more vigorously'. In essence the two soldiers agreed that Hitler should become less partisan and that he ought to relinquish the post of Commander-in-Chief and appoint somebody who would maintain personal contact with the army commanders and take care for the needs of the troops. It was agreed that Speer and Guderian should speak independently on the subject to Hitler, but unfortunately neither knew that both Kluge and Manstein had recently done precisely the same. Hitler drew the false conclusion that all four were in collusion - as, to all intents and purposes, was so. Tresckow had already sounded Guderian, ostensibly on behalf of Kluge, to see if a reconciliation could be effected between the old antagonists as a first step in a joint approach to Hitler in an endeavour to arrange a diminishrnent of his powers. Guderian had declined because of 'My very exact knowledge of FieldMarshal von Kluge's unstable character . ..' It may well be that Tresckow, as one of the principal plotters, had pushed Kluge hard into making the offer (as he had invariably to do in pushing Kluge towards any sort of resistance) but Guderian, none the less, may have been wrong to decline even though he was shrewd in his judgement of the hesitant Kluge. At that moment a combined effort by the most senior commanders might have averted the tragedy to come, forlorn though the hope could be. Guderian, however, was playing a lone hand from a sense of necessity. Accustomed to being rebuffed by his seniors and contemporaries he scarcely hoped to achieve lasting alliances among the hierarchy. The oppressive atmosphere of intrigue and circumlocution which pervaded Hitler's court stimulated its mood. Within those walls, personal relationships fluctuated with the same frequency as policy. Loyalty and continuity were at a premium. Conflicting judgements were the rule rather than the exception. In 1943 there was, in the innermost circles of power, a fairly strong consensus of opinion that Guderian, as Warlimont put it to me, 'politically sought a closer association with the Party than was customary among the officers'. To a large extent this is confirmed by 138/258
Goebbels in the pages of his diary. On 6th March 1943 he quoted Seyss-Inquart as saying that*.. . our generals sometimes get weak in the knees' and added: 'This view is confirmed by a long talk with Generaloberst Guderian . . . We discussed the abuses prevalent in the Wehrmacht. Guderian is a very sharp critic of these obvious improprieties. He impressed me as an exceptionally wide-awake and alert commander. His judgment is clear and sensible and he is blessed with healthy common sense. Undoubtedly I can work with him. I promised him my unstinted support.' According to Guderian he attempted to have Goebbels persuade Hitler to replace Wilhelm Keitel with an officer'. .. who understood how to function as an operational commander', but nothing of importance came of this meeting. Goebbels was never among those to offend the F端hrer. Nor was Guderian successful in another meeting with Goebbels on 27th July when again, according to Goebbels, 'He told me about his grave concern over the present status of the war. He pleaded for concentration at some point since we cannot afford to be active on all fronts. He complained about the inactivity of OKW which does not contain a single leader. Guderian made an excellent impression. He is certainly an ardent and unquestioning disciple of the F端hrer.' It is possible that the normally forthright Guderian was engaged in a delicate attempt to split the Nazi ranks by administering mild doses of the Hitlerian virus - a little sweetness here, a little poison there, with the intention of bringing genera! pressure to bear on Hitler while enhancing his own standing. He even tried to influence Himmler, though Goring, who 'disliked working', he left alone. Within a year Goebbels, at a vital moment, would adopt a strikingly different opinion of the Inspector General of Armoured Forces, but that was at a moment when the whole Nazi house of cards was shaking. It is undoubtedly true, as will be seen, that Guderian envisaged himself as the man who might yet save the Army and the nation. In the meantime any hope there might ever have been of Germany 'concentrating at some point' had evaporated. Germany had forfeited the initiative long before the disaster at Kursk. The annihilation of the last bridgehead in Tunis had provided the springboard from which, in July, the British and Americans had launched the invasion of Sicily, an event which had led Hitler to call off the attack at Kursk. The fall of Mussolini followed and, in September, the invasion of Italy as Germany's major ally sued for peace. A guerilla war which, since 1941, had spluttered in the Balkans, broke into flames and attracted large German forces in efforts to pacify a vaste area, as well as deterring an Allied invasion. In Russia the waves of an almost irresistible flood of offensives rolled westward, engulfing formations and units whose combat prowess had been stabilised but whose higher direction was permanently hampered by Hitler's vetoes on yielding ground. An incipient inability on Hitler's part to comprehend that mobility was as much part of defence as it was of attack, inhibited Hitler from permitting his commanders to exercise the full potential of the panzer divisions which, given the opportunity, had shown outstanding defensive powers. The panzer divisions were forced to perform the defensive role which Seeckt and Guderian had originally envisaged for Germany's limited forces - manoeuvres in depth with the flexible aim of destroying enemy forces on ground of the defender's choice. What was more, the German Army in Russia, throughout the mid-period of 1943, possessed a far better capability to achieve what had been dreamed of in the 1920s. They not only had ample space in which to play an infinite number of tactical permutations, but a superior mobility and hitting power far in advance of anything seen before. The new regulations, then being issued by the Inspector General's staff, were couched in terms of the defensive offensive battle based, initially, upon careful reconnaissance. In this respect the run down of the reconnaissance troops after 1941 was a matter of deep regret to Guderian who was busily trying to rehabilitate them. These units could find and track each enemy thrust in co-operation with aircraft. When the strength of direction of each threat was confirmed it would be for the infantry divisions, backed up by self-propelled guns, to hold vital points. Then the panzer divisions could move at speed to key, and preferably flanking, positions from which they initially blasted the enemy, as in an ambush, and next drive among the shattered remnants to deliver the coup de grace. Finally the panzer divisions would withdraw in readiness to deal with the next threat as it developed. Unfortunately Hitler frequently intervened to hamper preliminary operations, and ei139/258
ther delayed them too long or began them too soon, thus mitigating their effects. Command of tanks can only come from the front. Alternatively he would allow success to be won and then sacrifice the advantage by vetoing a subsequent redeployment or persisting too long in the face of a subsequent stalemate. Invariably he turned economic plans into profligate waste. In Guderian's summing up: 'The unfortunate and ruinous combat of 1943 had defeated all schemes to increase the fighting power of the panzer divisions. Only the quality of the individual tanks could be improved, but the total number dwindled steadily. By September 1943 there were fourteen divisions with one panzer battalion each, eight with two, and two with three. In addition there were ten Panzergrenadier87 divisions each with one panzer battalion armed with assault guns. The authorised strength, per company, though stipulated to be 22 tanks, was actually only 17.' On the other hand Guderian understates the vastly improved striking power provided by the new, more accurate high-velocity guns, and that, in training, infinitely more trouble was taken in profitably improving the gunner's skill. Before 1939 tank gunnery had been rudimentary. Now much more time and trouble was given to shooting techniques with great emphasis on live firing on realistic practice ranges. Henceforward German tank gunners scored far more hits than their opponents and it was this capability, allied to improved equipment and the existing tactical skills, that was the greatest achievement of the Inspectorate under Guderian. Without this amazing feat of organisation and inspiration the German Army would have collapsed much sooner than it did. Increasingly Guderian came to worry about the functioning of the higher leadership and strongly to doubt the Fuhrer, though he was far from first to do so. For example, Erwin Rommel had lost faith in Hitler as long ago as November 1942 when Hitler had forbidden him to abandon a broken position at El Alamein. In the aftermath of incurring quite unnecessary losses, Rommel had been frankly outspoken in his criticism of Hitler and, in consequence, had been extracted from Africa. He now posed an embarrassment to the Fuhrer who, nevertheless, felt compelled to keep his most highly-prized, propaganda general in the public eye. Rommel was given sinecures - a job on the Fuhrer's personal staff and then the task of up-dating plans in the event of an Italian surrender. But once more Rommel disappointed Hitler by demanding that Italy be abandoned and that the defence of Southern Germany should be based upon the Alps. So Rommel was denied the post of Commander-in-Chief of Italy: instead it was given to Albert Kesselring of the Luftwaffe, a more amenable character. These things Guderian interpreted in his own way and linked them with yet another awful blunder that was in course of preparation by Hitler - an ill-prepared counter-stroke at Kiev in November. On 9th November, the day Hitler proposed this operation, Guderian wrote a letter to Gretel in which he clearly indicates his forebodings and, incidentally, corroborates the tone of disenchantment in Panzer Leader. Referring to the seriousness of things at the front and the fact that '. . . insight into the situation does not keep pace with it, resulting in a continuous lagging behind of decisions , . .' he went on: 'How long I can continue in my command under these circumstances I cannot say. I am not very optimistic. When I consider that Ro [Rommel] had to hand over his Army. Group because, in essence, he gave correct advice .. . then I am not very hopeful that I shall fare better. Nevertheless I feel compelled at this hour to express myself critically in order not to be guilty of neglecting the troops, for which I could never forgive myself later. Keep your fingers crossed that things turn out right.' This was the Bartenstein spirit of 1919, the sentiments of one who had resolved to offer himself as a sacrifice in his country's cause. If his adoption of this attitude seems delayed (apparently a whole year after Rommel), it can only be said that, whereas Rommel had suffered for 18 months under Hitler's direct command before loosing faith, Guderian required barely six to reach the same state. A comparison between the performance of Rommel and Guderian is certainly appropriate. Each had been raised to the heights of public adulation in exploitation of their dashing achievements in battle; each in his way was photogenic and an evocative subject for the propagandist; neither objected to a place in the limelight. But Rommel, the fighting soldier par excellence, had inferior foresight to Guderian and still less organising and administrative ability. Before the war, as Ronald Lewin says of Rommel in his Rommel as Military Commander, 'His re140/258
cord ... is one of steady but conventional progress'. Rommel, in fact, could never have conjured up and pushed throught the imaginative Panzertruppe in all its ramifications and with the need for such deft negotiation. But Rommel had not been trained as a General Staff officer and his operations at war hung much more on a string than did Guderian's. Each, of course, had peerless insight into the demands and opportunities of the battlefield and was a superb tactician, though the better trained Guderian calculated the risks more thoroughly and, in endeavours to win his way in negotiation, cultivated diplomatic skill and, when necessary, the patience to give here or wait there for a more propitious moment. As Guderian once ironically and sadly reflected about Rommel (whom he admired), 'He always wanted to have his own way'. They were as one in their ideals, a Prussian and a Swabian in complete accord over the integrity of the oath and of honour, committed to criticism of Hitler (though Rommel was by far the more indiscreet) but opposed to removing him by violence. Both totally rejected assassination. Guderian's negotiating methods are well illustrated in his relationship with the top men in the attempt to diminish Hitler's authority over the Army. Like his strategic and tactical approaches, they were indirect to begin with but finally looked like hammer blows, aimed straight at the target. Feeling sure of Speer and Dietrich, and at least on good terms with Goebbels (while dismissing Goring as of little assistance by reason of his laziness) he began by tackling Himmler but 'received an impression of impenetrable obliquity'. This was hardly surprising from the man who was the Army's deadliest enemy. Probably Guderian had not realised this before. Nevertheless, in approaching Himmler first he exhibited political realism by recognising in the Head of the SS the most powerful figure next to Hitler. Having failed at the top he moved a rung further down. A few days later he approached Jodf and laid before him a plan for the reorganisation of the Supreme Command of which the vital part lay in the scheme that Hitler should cease to control the actual conduct of operations and confine himself to'. . . his proper field of activities, supreme control of the political situation and of the highest war strategy'. Believing that these proposals were bound to reach Hitler's ears and being fully aware what the reaction must surely be, Guderian boldly placed his own head on the block. The outcome may have come as a surprise. Jodl, who was a devotee of outright control by OKW and who was unshakeably loyal to Hitler, merely put on a boot-face and asked, 'Do you know of a better Supreme Commander than Adolf Hitler?' Guderian says that he put his papers back in his brief case and left the room, but though this represented angry impetuosity there was nothing impetuous about his challenge, although there is no doubt that many in the hierarchy figured it as such - that being their customary assessment of Guderian's normal behaviour. He was extraordinarily naive if he did not assume that a report would be made to Hitler; therefore he now sat back to await dismissal. But nothing happened at once: he was allowed to continue with the restoration of the panzer forces and assert whatever influence he could upon a system in decay. Whether or not Himmler or Jodl passed on Guderian's remarks, there was only silence from Hitler. In fact there was no other general than Guderian from whom Hitler took such affrontery and yet retained in his service. In January 1944 he actually created the opportunity to allow an airing of the subject of a readjusted command system by inviting Guderian to a private breakfast. The discussion opened with a quarrel as to the desirability of building a strong, lay-back defensive system covering Germany's eastern frontier. Hitler argued, with a wealth of figures he had learnt by heart, that it was not feasible. Guderian claimed it was. The subject shifted to the question of the High Command. We only have Guderian's word for what transpired but it appears that he desisted from telling Hitler to his face that he should limit his powers ' since my indirect attempts . . . had failed'. Instead he proposed that a general Hitler trusted should be appointed as Chief of the Armed Services General Staff. Naturally Hitler recognised this thinly disguised attempt to whittle away his own powers: predictably he turned it down. Guderian drew the conclusion that there was not a single general whom Hitler did trust and began to ask himself the question, 'To whom would Hitler turn eventually for help in running the Army? Would it be a soldier, an airman or a totally unqualified member of the Nazi Party? Could it possibly be a soldier who was outwardly loyal to Hitler but wholly committed to Germany?' An appalling atmosphere of doom hung over Germany. Air raids made both night and day hid141/258
eous with death and destruction while news of the contracting frontiers threatened a more dreadful fate when invading armies reached Germany, as surely they must that year unless a miracle occurred. With invasion imminent in the West, the number of fronts would be increased at a time when Germany's resources were already stretched beyond the limit. Faced with these horrors and the knowledge that the man at the helm was incorrigible, those who sought his removal went more desperately to work in their different ways to bring this about. The most active party of conspirators, led by Beck, had taken fresh vigour when they were joined, as manager in May 1943, by the man who, in 1941, had tried to make Guderian C-in-C, the fanatically anti-Nazi Oberst Claus von Stauffenberg. Despite wounds received since 1941, this excellent staff officer put purpose into the detailed planning of a coup d'etat which would embrace a take-over of Government by the Army, preceded by the assassination of Hitler and the arrest of the principal members of the Nazi Party and, of course, the SS. As cover for the putsch, a plan - called Operation Valkyrie - for the Army to deal with a mutiny by the SS or with unrest by the foreign workers in Germany was concocted. Inevitably many more people than those few behind the plot had to be brought in on the periphery. In consequence the risks of discovery were increased in the interests of achieving widespread effects: those generals who were infected with Nazism had to be excluded. It is instructive that, whatever Goebbels may have thought, the plotters did not believe Guderian to be that way politically inclined. He was kept aware of their presence not only by random contacts with Goerderler but also through Thomale. For although neither Guderian nor Thomale admit to complicity, Thomale is quoted as saying, in August 1943, to one of the inner ring of plotters, Generalmajor Helmuth Stieff, that Guderian 'explicitly desisted from taking part because direct action against Hitler would be demanded'. Moreover it was Thomale who arranged the meeting between Tresckow and Guderian at the latter's home and he who warned Tresckow not to mention Kluge's involvement with the plot. But to quote Guderian's son, 'Tresckow named Kluge and my father exploded in his bed . . . Thus the discussion was finished'. Clearly, therefore, Thomale was to some extent in the know and also aware of his chiefs dilemma - the difficulty implicit in conscience concerning his oath to Hitler and the propriety of being complicit with murder, the application of judgement as to whether the conspirators' plans would work and, if they failed, the horror of what damage would be done. It would have been surprising and impossible had things been otherwise between Commander and Chief of Staff. Regularly Guderian was coming into collision with Hitler. His disapproval of 'witch hunts' directed against generals who had failed - or had appeared to fail - at the front was made plain. Thus he contributed to resistance (without perhaps intending to) by delaying inquiries of that nature for which he was made responsible. With regard to strategy in the field, he was not only in sharp disagreement over the conduct of operations in Russia, but also with defensive preparations in France where Hitler backed Rommel in his desire to position the mobile forces close to the coast. Guderian agreed with Rundstedt who, urged on by von Geyr, wished to have them located centrally. The outcome was a compromise between the two lines of thought, both of which had pronounced merits and demerits since the argument for holding the armour forward was based on Rommel's fear of Allied air power. Of this Guderian had far less experience than Rommel, even though he admits to seeing for himself the impunity with which enemy aircraft in the West flew above the training areas and bombed as they chose. Tragedy was in the making for Rommel. He was already committed in mind to an attempt at arranging separate armistice terms in the West and opening a gap for the Allies: and he had also been in contact with the principal conspirators. While somewhat ambivalent in his replies, he had stated to them: T believe it my duty to come to the rescue of Germany'. From this the conspirators assumed that he would be prepared to accept a senior appointment in some future government and, though there is conflicting evidence in the matter, it seems almost certain that he was aware of this development and did not reject it out of hand. What he was unaware of until too late was that this damaging evidence had been put in writing by Goerdeler. Finally Rommel committed himself to a confrontation with Hitler by sending the Fiihrer a flatly challenging report on 15th July. The Allied invasion had been launched into Normandy on 6th June and, through the most desperate efforts, had been contained within a relatively small bridgehead. To Hitler he now declared, with Kluge's endorsement (as the new C-in-C West): 'The troops are 142/258
fighting heroically everywhere, but the unequal struggle is nearing its end'. To his Chief of Staff he said, 'I have given him [Hitler] the last chance. If he does not take it we will act' - by this meaning a separate armistice in the West. It is not clear, however, if Kluge was compliant to this part of the scheme. This far Guderian would not have gone on his own - and certainly not in company with Kluge. Yet already in the first few days of July a separate and final decision had been taken by the leading exponents of assassination. Pressure, that accumulated from threats of disclosure, was heavy upon them. Allied attacks on all fronts seemed likely to cause a total collapse of the Wehr-macht and even more senior officers were now convinced that the war was lost. These officers, whose company included Rundstedt (who had handed over to Kluge), Kluge himself and Fromm, the Commander of the Replacement Army in Germany, prudently adopted Bock's original attitude: 'If you can pull it off I'll join you but until then I'll not help: if you fail, Heaven be your help because I will not.' On 17th July Rommel was eliminated from participation in the plot when he was seriously wounded by an air attack. This removed a key figure, one who as a propaganda idol might have rallied popular support behind the conspiracy. Guderian, of course, was another such figure. He says that on 18th July a Luftwaffe officer 'whom I had known in the old days' came to inform him that Kluge was contemplating arranging a separate armistice in the West. That much is true, but it is not the whole truth. His informant, in fact, was none other than von Barsewisch, his Luftwaffe liaison officer in Russia in 1941; the man who had flown Guderian forty-eight times at the front and who, therefore, had a special relationship with him; an officer of panache and principle who, at his peril after Guderian's dismissal, had criticised the Fiihrer by holding-in Guderian's absence - a parade in his honour and by extolling him in a speech in Berlin; who had kept contact with Guderian ever since and knew of his old commander's opinion that Hitler was leading Germany to destruction. Barsewisch now came to Guderian as the emissary of the conspirators (in response to a request from Major Caesar von Hofacker) in a last effort to persuade Guderian to adopt outright resistance. News of the impending assassination, of which Barsewisch now told him without revealing its date (since the final decision had yet to be taken on the 19th), thoroughly shook Guderian. It was of no avail. Admitting the validity of Barsewisch's reasoning, after a four-hour tramp and talk in the woods out of earshot, Guderian held firm to his original contention that he could not break his oath and must do his duty as an officer. All mention of assassination at this meeting is excluded from Panzer Leader. Only the subject of the armistice is ingenuously discussed on the lines that if he informed the F端hrer and the information proved false he would be '. . . doing Fieldmarschall Kluge a grave injustice . . . Should I keep the information to myself I must share the guilt of the evil consequences that were bound to ensue.' He adds that he did not believe the story and decided to stay silent. This aspect of the Bomb Plot story, concealed up to now, throws a flickering light on Guderian's part. In one respect - his omission of the whole truth from Panzer Leader (perhaps from a tortured conscience but as likely from true political reaction) - he emerges at less than his normal standards of behaviour. From another angle he becomes fully implicated in the plot. He knew Hitler was doing awful damage and he did nothing to stop the assassination either by arresting Barsewisch on the spot or reporting the whole matter. Instead he pursued a well-thought out policy adapted to the new circumstances. At only a few hours notice, and clearly in a state of unusual tension, he set out next day, the 19th, on a hastily arranged tour of inspections to units which (by coincidence?) were within reach of either Berlin, his home at Deipenhof, Hitler's headquarters with OKW at Rastenburg, or OKH at Lotzen. When visiting anti-tank troops at Allenstein, Thomale called him on the telephone to seek agreement to a request by Olbricht (now among the leading plotters) to delay the despatch of a panzer unit from Berlin to East Prussia in order that it might take part in an exercise of Operation Valkyrie - an operation Guderian thought covered action against enemy air landings or internal unrest. He gave his 'reluctant approval,' as indeed he might since this virtually told him that the attempt upon Hitler's life was fixed for the morrow. At any moment he would be faced with decisions of quite appalling consequence. Next morning, the 20th, he inspected more troops and then went to Deipenhof. At 1250 pm a 143/258
bomb, planted by Stauffenberg, exploded in Hitler's conference room killing a number of officers (including Schmundt) but scarcely injuring the Fßhrer. Without checking, and on the assumption that Hitler was dead, Stauffenberg88 flew to Berlin and at 4 pm started the conspirators putting the plan into action with telephone calls through the Reich and occupied territories, calling for the arrest of the Nazis. Unfortunately for them the most important telephone exchange of all, the one at Rastenburg, which should have been crippled by General Fellgiebel (the top OKW Signals Officer whose work in raising signal communications to such a high level had won Guderian's highest praise), was still working. Fellgiebel, on finding that Hitler was alive, had bungled the job without passing on the truth to his fellow conspirators and, incidentally, by his incompetence, revealed the incompatibility of General Staff officers for this sort of work besides ensuring the doom of the enterprise. At 4 pm89 Guderian, too, was out of communication, on a long walk far from the house, hunting roebuck in the course of inspecting the estate. From solitude he was summoned home by a despatch rider who told him to expect a telephone call from Supreme Headquarters. A few minutes later, over the radio, he heard of the attempt on Hitler's life. Too much weight should not be placed on surmise (of which there is plenty), though that is all there is concerning much that took place on the 20th. But it must have been well known to Guderian that, in moments of crisis when he did not wish to be contacted, a revered past commander of his used to take a walk for evasive action. That commander had been Riidiger von der Goltz. On the assumption that Guderian was forewarned of an impending and dangerous event and with it the implication that he might soon be required to take a fatal decision, it was essential that he should preserve for himself the maximum time in which to allow the plot to resolve itself: thus the lonely walk was loaded with precedent and provided an excellent pretext for a useful safety measure. When at midnight Thomale came through on the telephone, the conspiracy had been crushed and a decision was unnecessary. Beck, Stauffenberg and some of the others were dead, with several more under arrest. From the Fuhrer's vengeful rantings it was obvious that anybody connected in the slightest way with the plot need expect no mercy; but then, there never had been much doubt that the price of failure would be a holocaust. Rommel had taken no direct part, but in due course his involvement would be revealed and he would pay with his life. Kluge, too, had stood back, filled with doubts, but he was fatally implicated and within a few weeks committed suicide. Possibly by luck, but much more likely as the result of exercising prudence and careful management over the past year or more, Guderian had isolated himself from contamination and yet, by keeping in touch and well informed, provided himself with an unshake-able alibi. If it had been his aim to preserve himself for a sacred task - the defence of Germany and of the old Army - he could not have gone about it more thoroughly and astutely. He saw no need for a martyr and positively declined to offer himself in that role. Even so his fate, for one dramatic moment, hung accidentally by a string. When the news reached Speer at his Berlin office, his first assumption was that: 'It did not occur to me that Stauffenberg, Olbricht, Stieff and their circle might be carrying out the revolt. I would rather have attributed such an act to a man of Guderian's choleric temperament'. Speer recalls Goebbels and a Major Remer engaged upon crushing the revolt with whatever loyal troops could be found, and a melodramatic event at 7 pm when '. . . all was thrown into question again when he [Goebbels] learnt shortly afterwards that a tank brigade had arrived at Fehrbelliner Platz and was refusing to obey Remer's orders. General Guderian alone was their commander, they had told Remer, and with military terseness had warned him: "Anyone who doesn't obey will be shot''. Their fighting strength was so superior to Remer's that the fate of a good deal more than the next hour or so seemed to hang on their attitude�. These troops, of course, were acting in the spirit of the Valkyrie operation to put down an SS mutiny. Also they were perfectly correct in saying that they acted under Guderian's orders since all home-based panzer units were, by Charter, under his command, and the commander of this unit had been told by Thomale only to follow orders from Hitler, Keitel or Guderian. In this moment of confusion, when nobody knew friends from foes, sudden false conclusions were inevitable. Speer writes: 'Both Goebbels and Remer thought it likely that Guderian was a participant in the Putsch. The leader of the brigade was Oberst Bollbrinker. Since I knew him well I tried to reach 144/258
him by telephone. The message I received was reassuring: the tanks had come to crush the rebellion'. They did not, of course, say what sort of rebellion because they were unaware of the circumstances. This raises the important matter of loyalties. The panzer officers, at that moment, were willingly engaged in an operation on behalf of Hitler but they gave their initial allegiance to Guderian, all the more willingly, probably, in the belief that he was the Fiihrer's agent. This not only underlines the conspirators' essential need for support by credible military leaders, other than forgotten and discredited men of Beck's standing, but shows how correct were those who evaluated Guderian as a potentially key personality in the crisis. It also goes to substantiate Guderian's contention that'. . . at that time the great proportion of the German people still believed in Adolf Hitler. . .' Without troops personally loyal to themselves the conspirators never had a chance. Yet, even Guderian's weight, thrown behind the plot at the last minute, as Barsewisch had asked, would have saved nothing. Still there would have been a bungle and as a result Guderian, too, would have been destroyed and deprived of the task he saw for himself on Germany's behalf. At Rastenburg Hitler was picking up the pieces and giving the orders that were to lead to the slaughter of dissidents and infliction of the final indignities upon the Army. So far as Guderian was concerned this was neither the first nor the last time he benefited from the services of a Chief of Staff who was as meticulously loyal as, for example, Nehring had been. It was Thomale who, at 6 pm on the 20th, was the first to be asked to account for Guderian's absence and he who was called to see the Fu'hrer an hour later to answer, satisfactorily, further questions.90 He was told to instruct Guderian immediately to go to OKH at Lotzen and take over as acting Chief of Staff. Fate had a hand, for Hitler had earlier decided to be rid of Zeitzler, whose objections had become too strong for comfort, and replace him with General Buhle. Zeitzler had retired on grounds of ill-health but Buhle had been wounded by the explosion and was temporarily incapacitated. Quite by chance, and as second choice, Guderian reached what Warlimont called 'the summit of his ambitions' - in which judgement Warlimont may well have been right in connection with an ambitious man, except that, as Guderian writes: '. . . even the rumour-mongers must admit that voluntarily to tackle the situation on the Eastern Front in July 1944 was no very enticing proposition.1 For there were those who gave credence, as did Schlabrendorff,'to the gossip that 'All those in the plot were convinced that Guderian had given them away to Hitler in order that he would be made Chief of Staff. The fact that Buhle was already the Chief of Staff designate disposes of these accusations without the need to hear Guderian's defence that he was ordered to comply and that, in any case, 'I should have regarded myself as a shabby coward if I had refused to attempt to save the eastern armies and my homeland, eastern Germany'. These were reasons enough, but there was one more which he later confided to his family, to Strik-Strikfeld and close associates. That was the need to prevent an SS man becoming Chief of Staff, the vital necessity to curb the excesses of Heinrich Himmler and his minions as they closed in for the kill of the old Army. There is a revealing clue to the innermost thoughts and intentions of Guderian in a letter from Gretel on August 20th. In it she wrote: 'We have often talked about this dreaded development and the task that would be set for you. That is how it has turned out! Also that we would be parted in this most serious hour and have to make independent decisions was clear to us. So now each must stand at his post and hope that we will be happily reunited quite soon . . . Our unique understanding gives me the strength to see things through . . . The forbidden emotions you will not be able to avoid in the future. I get panic-stricken sometimes when I think of all that is piling upon you. May God maintain for you his [the F端hrer's] close confidence. That is the foundation of all. If that is lost so is everything else.' The letter, carried by hand, is of necessity guarded in its obliquity, for every communication was dangerous, but it seems quite apparent that together they had visualised, with a sense of forboding, a day he would be called upon as Chief of Staff. The reference to 'forbidden emotions' requires interpretation, but almost certainly concerns medical instructions that he must avoid emotions and excitements under stress. The references to Hitler's confidence do not, however, imply a close allegiance to Hitler, but suggest instead the need to cling to any straw for survival. This letter, however, could be read in the context of abiding loyalty to the F端hrer, had it been in145/258
tercepted. Never before, let it be remembered, was the urge for survival more strongly stimulated in Gretel.
The Last in the Line The task awaiting Guderian as acting Chief of Staff was gigantic beyond belief and, of course, preposterous in its enormity. An analysis of his duties, to which those of Inspector of Panzer Forces were now a subsidiary part, gives the barest indication of the absurd state to which the role of Chief of Staff had been reduced. Operationally, and primarily, he was responsible, subject to aggravating supervision by Hitler and OKW, for the conduct of operations on the Eastern Front. As a painful secondary task he was made a member of the Court of Honour set up by Hitler to examine the dossiers of officers who were said to be responsible for acts in connection with the Putsch and to expel them from the Service in order that they could be brought to trial by the People's Court. As self-appointed duties were his efforts to attempt to maintain the status of the Army and that of the General Staff, along with resistance to further encroachment by OKW and the SS in the province of OKH, and such endeavours as could be made to save innocent or only marginally implicated men from the Gestapo or any other form of summary justice. As guarantee of his presence he was expressly forbidden to offer his resignation, as had Zeitzler no less than five times! Hercules, compared with Guderian, had a relatively easy task in cleansing the Augean stables, for at least there had been a nearby stream for his assistance, whereas the resources available to Guderian were drying up. Moreover Hercules had a free hand while Guderian's were tied, and his authority impaired. Ask as much as he liked to be '. . . permitted to give directions to all General Staff Corps Officers of the Army on such subjects as concerned the General Staff as a whole', Hitler, Himmler, Keitel and Jodl were bent on the General Staffs abolition and had no intention of relenting. Instead Guderian felt compelled to make larger concessions than any of his predecessors. On 23rd July, in a broadcast to the nation, he said, 'A few officers, some on the retired list, have lost courage and by an act of cowardice and weakness preferred the road to disgrace to that of duty and honour . . . The people and the Army stand closely behind the Fiihrer ... I guarantee the F端hrer and the German people the unity of the generals, of the officer corps and of the men in the Army in the single aim of fighting for and achieving victory under the motto created by the venerable Generalfeldmarschall von Hindenburg, "Loyalty is the essence of honour".' And on the 29th he issued a notorious order (one which Goerlitz says, with exaggeration, 'produced a division in the ranks of the General Staff which could never be bridged') saying: 'Each General Staff officer must be a National Socialist officer. That means he must show and prove himself by way of exemplary conduct in political questions, through active instruction and advice to younger comrades on the thoughts of the F端hrer in the political field as well as a member of the "selected few", and also in the area of tactics and strategy.' At this time, too, the Nazi salute, at Hitler's demand, became obligatory for the Wehrmacht. That a division was produced is undeniable though it is probably more correct to say that it was the cumulative effects of the 20th, not just the order of the 29th, which did it. Neither the broadcast nor the order of the 29th are mentioned in Panzer Leader. It is likely the former was made at the request of Goebbels (whose activity was dynamic) and the latter under pressure from Hitler, whose fury with the Army was uncontainable. By means of silence in his memoirs Guderian transmits his disquiet at the measures to which he was reduced: if he had chosen to comment he would probably have elected to justify the ends being worthy of the means. His was to be a Micawberlike holding action, a bargaining of status for time in pursuit of a military stalemate from which a bearable peace could be negotiated. Quite deliberately he put country before self and the Army - and in so doing performed what may have been his greatest service to Hitler. For though the F端hrer and his henchman Himmler91 (who was appointed commander of the Replacement Army instead of Fromm) were well on the road to substituting the Waffen SS for the Army, they were not yet completely ready. Meanwhile the officers, rank and file of the Army cordially disliked and mistrusted their 'comrades' of the Party. By identifying himself as one with the Army and the Party Guderian, for the time being, guaranteed the Army's loyalty to Hitler. It is unlikely that there was another officer then serving (other than 146/258
Rundstedt) who had the prestige to do so. As it was, Guderian felt the need for a complete restructuring of OKH, the disciplining of officers who were already (under cover of the new National Socialist atmosphere) taking liberties, and the incorporation of faithful followers who had served him in the past - among them Praun as Chief Signals Officer, and the enthusiastic General der Panzertruppen Walter Wenck (who had collaborated with him in developing minor panzer tactics in 1928 and had urged him on at Sedan) as Chief of Operations. After the Bomb Plot staff officers who, as Guderian demanded, 'should have three good ideas a day', were at a premium. The customary initial renouncements were the price paid for the consolidation of Guderian's position with Hitler. Clearly he believed there was a slight chance of retrieval. On 30th July Gretel, in a letter which dealt mainly with the farm, had written: 'My feeling that one day you would be called to the top position in the Army has been proved right. May you succeed despite the most devilish difficult situation in keeping the Red hordes from invading our beloved land . . . May the F端hrer's trust stay with you and give you the opportunity to achieve your aim', Well might the Fiihrer's faith be in question: nobody, by this time, took him at his word and he trusted nobody. And Guderian had replied to her on the 18th August: 'Difficulties have to be overcome and that is my daily work. Because of this, much has to be done and successes are few. I hope by holding firmly to my goals we will survive, but it is difficult to catch up with years of neglect'. Hope was about all that did remain. Guderian, though not yet prepared to concede total defeat, realised that victory was impossible. As he took office, the front in Normandy was on the eve of rupture, that in Italy in steady recession, while in the East the Russian armies had overrun vast areas and were advancing into the Baltic States in the north, towards Warsaw in the centre and Rumania in the south. All three Army Groups in Russia were in the process of destruction along with those in the West. At the same time German cities and industry were being ripped apart by aerial bombardment. In this heart-rending position it is indicative of Guderian's innermost conviction of impending doom that he called upon a precedent of desperation to bolster his optimism taking as model the events of the year 1759 and the calamity of the Battle of Kunersdorf and its aftermath. On that occasion Frederick the Great had contemplated abdication but eventually had saved the situation through hanging on until there occurred the almost miraculous death of the Russian Empress with her successor ending the war when Prussia was at the last gasp. In essence Guderian's private and hopelessly optimistic war aim amounted to stabilisation of a fortified front in the East and the achievement of peace in the West the latter helped, perhaps, by a local success. Epitomising the stresses and strains, from within and without, that were imposed upon rehabilitation and operational measures, was the struggle for Poland where it centred through August and September on the Battle of Warsaw. On 1st August, as Russian armies, at the end of their tether, came close to the city after a 300-mile advance, the clandestine Polish Home Army rose up and cut vital German communication links with the armies fighting at the front. The insurrection was not, in fact, aimed against the Germans who, it was assumed, were utterly defeated as they evacuated Warsaw: if that had not been so the uprising would never have been ordered. The Poles were really attempting to win a prestige success with a view to establishing a political presence prior to the arrival of the Russians. Nevertheless the Germans could not stand by and let them do so, particularly since Guderian was assembling forces for the defence of the River Vistula: he stopped a panic evacuation that began after 22nd July and poured reinforcements against the flanks of the Russian spearheads. He also requested that the city be declared part of the Army's zone of operations and therefore should be handed over by the Governor General and the SS, who were the responsible agency, under Himmler, for all anti-partisan operations. But Himmler, encouraged by Hitler, refused to hand over and instead, on 5th August, sent his chief of anti-partisan operations, SS Obergruppenfuhrer Erich von dem Bach-Zelewski, to lead the fight against the Poles. Thus there was divided command between the SS inside the city and the Army on the perimeter. The fighting which engulfed Warsaw contained all that was worst in partisan warfare and attracted the fiercest of combatants whose forebears were the Reds of 1917 and the Freikorps. It had repercussions for Gretel too: in mid-August she received warning that some of the people on 147/258
the estate might be of the 'Warsaw Organisation' and be plotting to do her harm. She wrote: 'I am not frightened, darling, and I sleep alone down-stairs' - and went on living there until the Russians were at the gates in January 1945. Hitler demanded the extermination of the Poles and the destruction of Warsaw, instructions which Bach-Zelewski saw fit to disobey. Guderian, of course, knew about the merciless partisan operation which undermined, in varying extent, almost every corner of enemy-occupied territory, but this was his first experience of dealing with it in all its ramifications from High Command. If he had been unaware of the ruthlessly repressive and murderous anti-partisan instructions which, from time to time, had been issued by Hitler and OKW, he was left in no doubt now of the depravity which ruled on both sides. At the post-war trials of war criminals the perpetrators of horror at Warsaw were to appear and pay penalties. Guderian, as Chief of the Army Staff, was to be among those upon whom the Poles would have liked to lay hands. It is true that Army units fought in the streets of Warsaw under the direction of Bach-Zelewski and, of course, it was the Army under Guderian's command that stopped the Russians on the outskirts of Warsaw, so preventing the link-up with the Polisfr partisans that led to the eventual collapse of the uprising. Guderian, in Panzer Leader, is at pains to emphasise his interventions in mitigating the depradations by some of the cruellest anti-partisan forces under Bach-Zelewski's command and in seeking withdrawal of Hitler's demand that prisoners should not be granted full rights by International Law. He also underlines that the worst retributive orders were sent through SS channels and not those of the Army. The SS, eager for credit, took pride in this victory. Guderian could claim innocence of a crime and, after the war, the Americans declined to hand him over to the Poles. While conducting the battle which led to the defeat of the Russians at Warsaw, Guderian began developing his technique of 'holding firmly to his goals' with Hitler. On 15th August they had a flaming row when Guderian, in his capacity as Inspector General of Armoured Forces, remarked, apropos conditions in the West, 'The bravery of the panzer troops is not enough to make up for the failure of the other two Services - the Air Force and the Navy'. Warlimont wrote that'... he went about his new job with characteristic energy; he did not, however, as Zeitzler had done, waste any effort trying to get the other theatres of war back under OKH ... In his impetuous and vivacious manner he would often use strong language even at the briefing conferences. From his general outlook and the consequential personal animosities it soon became clear that, even under the extreme pressure of the situation, the change in Army Chief of Staff was unlikely to bring any change in the unhappy relationship between the two top levels of the Wehrmacht. Although we were franker in our dealings with each other, it did not enter the head of any senior officers concerned with the overall direction of the war to make common cause with OKW or cooperate in opposition to the continuance of a war already lost'. This statement is somewhat misleading, bearing in mind the attempts which had been made by Army officers to present a unified front and the memory of those many occasions when OKW had preferred to follow its own inclinations contrary to OKH advice. Warlimont merely makes a case for OKWs infallibility. Whether or not Guderian's methods were realistic is a matter for argument; in fact he probably deluded himself when writing that he thought he had brought about an improvement. But he had always been a convinced advocate of unified command and, from the earliest days under Blomberg and Reichenau, had supported the attempts to merge the various, and often competing, agencies of the Wehrmacht. The effectiveness of the OKW was, in his opinion, diminished because of the inadequacy of Wilhelm Keitel who, in practice, was compelled to use it as nothing better than Hitler's military secretariat. After the war Guderian laid the blame for military failure on Hitler's declining health, added to the 'mental irritability ... which led to a further splintering of the military command authority' Nevertheless Warlimont's reference to 'general outlook' and 'the consequential animosities' was apt. All men have blind spots and among Guderian's was the tendency to persist in his indignation with Kluge: others he could forgive, but never Kluge, not even in Panzer Leader. Within hours of becoming Chief of Staff Guderian was endeavouring to remove Kluge from command in the West by suggesting to Hitler (without avail) that he should be replaced because 'he did not have a lucky touch in commanding large armoured forces'. Guderian's reason, regardless of Kluge's implication with the plot, was less than just at the time and still more unjust when, after 148/258
the war (and long after Kluge's suicide at the end of August 1944), Guderian persisted in denigrating Kluge's handling of the armour. To his interrogators he complained about Kluge splitting panzer divisions, committing them piecemeal into action and utterly failing to concentrate more than half the armoured force available for the counter-stroke against the Americans at Mortain. While it was true that, at times in the East, Kluge had split formations, conditions in the West were different. The crippling effect of Allied air attacks upon lines of communication and the consequential difficulties in achieving concentration of forces of any sort precluded Guderian's old tactics of concentration. It must be remembered that Guderian was not present in Normandy during the battle: nor was he responsible for operations there. In any case Kluge suffered from the Fiihrer as much as every other C-in-C and the record of his courageous resistance to Hitler's maniac insistence upon suicidal counter-attacks by the panzer divisions at Mortain is valedictory of a desperate man. To obtain an alteration to one of Hitler's preconceived notions demanded hard wrangling and endless patience at a moment when time was at a premium. Kluge's operations in Normandy were ruined by Hitler's interventions. Guderian, for his part, quotes the F端hrer's obdurate resistance to his own proposals for the construction of a system of fortifications along Germany's eastern frontier and his strenuous efforts to build them in the autumn in accord with begrudging permission from Hitler. It was some feat to get that much, for Hitler shut his mind to the threat in the East once the Russian offensive came to a halt at Warsaw, and dealt only with the current threat presently in the West where the Siegfried Line was being probed by the Anglo-American armies, and the main industrial complex of the Ruhr threatened. As fast as Guderian built up fresh fortress units in the East, Jodl, anxious for the Ruhr, had them transferred to the West: when Guderian asked for the release of captured enemy equipment from store, Keitel and Jodl denied that these weapons existed. But once Guderian proved them wrong, Jodl seized the best and then sent them westward too. Guderian had no part in the offensive projected in the West. He could only stand and hope in the East, deprived of reserves, and be witness to gathering Russian strength, on the one hand, and, on the other, Himmler's combing out of manpower from industry to create yet another German army - a People's Army imbued with National Socialist ideals and banded into so-called 'Volksgrenadier92 Divisions' and the like. Once he came to realise that direct opposition to Hitler and his entourage was likely to be abortive, Guderian resorted to methods which had stood him in good stead on the battlefield when senior commanders thwarted his designs. He either ignored the orders or tried to circumvent them. Sometimes it worked, sometimes not. For a while he was able to evade attending the Court of Honour, which sat under Rundstedt, until Keitel insisted that he at least put in an appearance. It was good for him that he did attend since he was able to hear, first hand, the methods to which the Gestapo had descended in order to condemn Army officers. There was little enough that could be done to save those against whom there was the faintest evidence of conspiracy or those whom the Fiihrer was determined to punish. And as a last resort, Hitler employed General Burgdorf, Schmundt's inferior replacement, an officer reviled by Guderian for his bad behaviour and whom he called' the evil genius of the officer corps'. This man was instrumental in aiding Himmler in his schemes. This 'fanatical adherent of the National Socialist Party' (Guderian's words) was the Fuhrer's personal emissary to Rommel with the message and the poison which brought about that officer's suicide in October. Guderian did what he could93 and some of the conspirators could be saved, among them Rommel's Chief of Staff, Hans Speidel, whose stolid pleas of innocence (even though he was implicated with the Putsch) could not be broken: he one day would play a leading part in reforming the extinct German Army. Germany's allies were deserting her as the Russians approached or entered their countries. In turn, Rumania, Finland and Bulgaria changed sides as August turned to September and the autumn foreshadowed far worse to come. Hungary was in disarray but her regent, Admiral Horthy, had something to teach Guderian about political expediency on the eve of his nation's collapse: 'Look, my friend, in politics you must always have several irons in the fire'. It is instructive that Guderian quoted that remark in Panzer Leader, as an indication, no doubt, of his own mind's working. The Western Allied air forces began concentrating their attacks upon the plant manufacturing 149/258
oil as the Ploesti oil fields fell into enemy hands. The fuel of mobile defence drained rapidly away and the German motorised troops gradually came to a halt. In any case the panzer divisions were shadowy organisations of improvisation: rarely in the summer could the latest, reduced establishment of barely 120 tanks be made good. Meanwhile a flood of Russian, American and British armour did much as it pleased except where it met well-fashioned, static defences covering vital localities. But nothing that was German could last for long and the next line of defences to be breached were those tenuously defended by Army Group North. This was territory that protected the Prussian homeland and, with its past associations, was dear to Guderian. In August he prised a quick decision out of Hitler by playing upon his habit of delayed reaction until a threat became disaster. Permission was given to switch reinforcements from the southern front in Rumania (where the battle had yet to become catastrophically critical) to the north. This was the only alternative since nothing could be taken from the west (where the planning of what was to be the December, Ardennes offensive would soon be in progress) and OKH reserves were non-existent. But having, as a result, forced the Russians to pause near Riga and having opened a corridor through which the large German forces, trapped in Estonia and the rest of the Baltic States, might escape, the opportunity to evacuate completely was thrown away because Hitler forbade it. Early in October the Russians attacked once more and, this time, reached the sea near Memel, effectively locking the remains of Army Group North in the Kurland peninsula, whence they could only be supplied by sea. Also Russian forces set foot, for the first time, on the sacred soil of East Prussia. The sound of the guns was audible in Lotzen and Rastenburg. Soon Hitler would be forced to withdraw to his last headquarters at the Chancellery in Berlin. The encirclement of Army Group North in Kurland, tragic though it was, merely wrote an incidental paragraph in the history of Hitler's mismanaged strategy. Its effect upon the outcome was militarily insignificant in the context of a chapter of total disaster. So far as Guderian was concerned it provoked him to the heights of indignation, not simply through the utter waste of strong, badly needed forces in holding too long a line, but as a subject for demonstrating his sympathy and devotion for the soldiers whose fate, a quite appalling one at Russian hands, was sealed. It mattered little that a further pause would now take place in the fighting in the East and that fortifications could be strengthened. Hitler's eyes were fixed upon the Ardennes and the out-moded dream of winning a victory of diplomatic as well as military consequence. He deluded himself, and a few dupes, that the Western Allies could be intimidated. But the delusion was ironically, in part, the making of Speer and the Inspector General of Panzer Forces for it was they who produced the flood of new armoured vehicles which filled the panzer division establishments almost to capacity. The remaining irony was the fuel shortage that hampered them. In common with almost every other senior officer, Guderian saw little hope of anything worthwhile coming from the Ardennes project. Denied a hand in the planning he had only to bear with the loss of soldiers taken from his command to fill the ranks of the armies in the West and read the daily intelligence reports which told of oncoming failure. 'For the sake of my country I had hoped,' he wrote, 'that it would lead to a complete victory. But since, on December 23rd, it was clear that it could no longer result in a great success, I decided to drive to Supreme Headquarters to request that the battle, which was causing us heavy casualties, be broken off . . .' This he did on the 26th. This request, like so many of those he made, was, according to Guderian, rejected and the angry atmosphere which regularly clouded his meetings with Hitler grew more intense. But he did obtain a few reinforcements.94 These meetings were monuments to time wasting and irrelevance such as few cabinets can ever have had. They would go on for hours at a time, a grotesque mixture of discussion on high policy interspersed with trivial interjections when Hitler aired his knowledge of individual weapon performances, or gave the minutest examination to some local deployment or reminiscence about the triumphs or sins and omissions of years gone by. The transcripts frequently make bizarre reading, filled as they are with the phobias of Nazidom in its dying throes. The rise and fall of voices is lost in flat transcript, but the provocation of the Army by Hitler and his adherents stands out along, somewhat astonishingly, with Guderian's patient and persistent efforts to guide the discussion back to essentials. Warlimont quotes, with italicised comments of his own, an attempt by Guderian to have implemented, in September, a rul150/258
ing by Hitler in July that the Navy, Air Force and civil authorities should relinquish badly needed lorries to the panzer divisions. Guderian: All that's necessary is for the Reichsmarschall to give his agreement. Hitler: I am giving the agreement now. We have got a Defence Staff. We have got an organisation the envy of every country in the world, OKW. No one else has such a thing. It hasn't been much talked about merely because the Army Staff didn't like it. Keitel: (as usual using stronger words to express the same idea): Has in fact fought hard against it! Hitler: (taking up Keitel's expression): Has in fact fought hard against it! After we had fought for years to get this organisation. Guderian: Air Fleet 3 has such a large number of lorries. Thomale: We must flush them out. Kreipe: (Chief of Staff Luftwaffe): We've already lost so many using them on Army jobs (re/uses). By the first week in January, when Hitler still persisted in trying to revive the offensive in the West and incontrovertible evidence accrued of an imminent Russian offensive, the tone of the meetings deteriorated. In an effort to achieve the essential concentration of resources along Germany's eastern frontier, Guderian doggedly endured the conferences, entering into asperity only when the main issue was under consideration or when the welfare of officers and soldiers was being harmed. He visited the fronts to gather a consensus of Army Commanders' opinions and from these drew the conclusion that the war was hopelessly lost. Not only was Germany overwhelmingly outnumbered but 'We had neither commanders nor troops of the 1940 quality any more .. .' On January 9th he resolved upon a show-down and produced a detailed intelligence report that proved beyond doubt the imminence of the Russian offensive and the impossible odds mounting against the German Army in the East. Hitler lost his temper and rejected the report, declaring that the man who made it, General Gehlen, was a lunatic and should be shut up in an asylum. Guderian says that he, too, lost his temper and told Hitler that Gehlen was '. . . one of my very best General Staff officers ... If you want General Gehlen sent to a lunatic asylum then you had better have me certified as well'. He refused to sack Gehlen and the row subsided. But Gehlen's conclusions were not converted into remedial action so that, when the Russians attacked three days later (precisely as Gehlen and Guderian had predicted), there was another disaster among troops whose deployment Hitler had refused to change to meet the conditions. At the end of the conference Hitler had once more tried to placate Guderian with soft words of gratitude and flattery, but these no longer availed. Guderian says that he told the F端hrer, 'The Eastern Front is like a house of cards. If the front is broken through at one point the rest will collapse .. .' And so it proved to be, though it would probably have happened whether or not reinforcements had arrived from the west. Disaster at the front impelled, all too late, the counter measures which should already have been taken. Either reinforcements were tardily moved to localities where the situation was out of control, or transferred by Hitler to places where they were least required. The Sixth SS Panzer Army was sent from the Ardennes to Hungary, there to be wasted as yet another diversion of strength on a front of lesser importance. This made it all the easier for the Russians to take Warsaw and flood through Poland and East Prussia, their spearheads thrusting towards Deipenhof where Gretel persisted to the last minute in her attempts to run the farm. Guderian was driven to distraction, but protest and intrigue were the only levers remaining since real power was Jong ago lost. When he confronted Jodl and angrily pointed out, for the umpteenth time, the iniquities of Hitlerian strategy, all that officer did was shrug his shoulders. Jodl, too, was baffled and must surely have realised the hopelessness of it all when, on 21st January, Himmler was given command of Army Group Vistula. The depths to which debate in council had descended - if that is the way to describe fiery protests against intransigence - reached rock bottom in February when Guderian once more tried to persuade Hitler that the forces locked up in Kuriand must be withdrawn by sea. Prior to the meeting he had taken a few drinks with the Japanese Ambassador. Speer, who was present, takes up the story: 151/258
'Hitler disagreed . . . Guderian did not give in, Hitler insisted, the tone sharpened, and finally Guderian opposed Hitler with an openness unprecedented in this circle. Probably fired by the drinks he had had at Oshima's, he threw aside all inhibitions. With flashing eyes and the hairs of his moustache literally standing on end, he stood facing Hitler across the marble table. Hitler too had risen to his feet. ' "It's simply our duty to save these people and we still have time to remove them!" Guderian cried out in a challenging voice. 'Infuriated, Hitler retorted: "You are going to fight there. We cannot give up these areas!" 'Guderian held firm: "But it's useless to sacrifice men in this senseless way", he shouted. "It's high time! We must evacuate these soldiers at once!" 'What no one had thought possible now happened. Hitler appeared visibly intimidated by this assault. Strictly speaking he really could not tolerate this insubordination which was more a matter of Guderian's tone than his arguments. But to my astonishment Hitler shifted to military arguments ... for the first time matters had come to an open quarrel in the larger circle. New worlds had opened out. . .' But Hitler did not alter his decision. A week later battle was joined once more over the marble table, this time in connection with a quick counter-attack which Guderian deemed it was essential Himmler's Army Group Vistula should make. Himmler wished to postpone the attack, pleading shortage of fuel and ammunition. Guderian felt convinced that this was merely an excuse to hide the incompetence of Himmler and his inexperienced SS Chief of Staff. This time, however, he was doing far more than arguing for the saving of life or for an operational expedient. He was standing firm against the principle of SS men taking charge in the Army's province. The row developed over a petty wrangle concerning Himmler's competence, as Guderian stated his demand that Wenck should be attached to Himmler's staff'... so that he may ensure that the operations are competently carried out'. For two hours Hitler, in a fury, resisted, while Guderian, apparently stimulated as well as calmed by having provoked the Fiihrer into losing his temper, kept his - and won. It was, as he wrote in Panzer Leader, 'the last battle I was to win'. The attack, launched by Wenck on 16th February, enjoyed initial success, but on the 17th, after Wenck was seriously injured in a car accident, the momentum was lost. Wenck's replacement, Generalleutnant Hans Krebs, was of lower quality, lacking in high command experience and the sort of creature Hitler preferred to employ. He was thus a natural choice for Burgdorf. But the loss of Wenck came as hard blow to Guderian though, in the final analysis of doom, it was of little account. Such rare accomplishments as came to his credit, like the attachment of Wenck to Himmler, were ephemeral and rapidly made negative: always he was engaged in the attempted reversal of bad measures without the privilege of initiating constructive ones. But the spectacle of an Army Chief of Staff at last meeting the F端hrer's fire with fire of greater heat inevitably raises the questions as to what might have happened if, in 1938 - or even so late as 1940 - Beck or Haider had employed similar methods? Or what might have been the result if Guderian, in the mood of 1945, had been made Chief of Staff in 1938, as unbased rumour suggested might have happened? Or supposing Below and Stauffenberg had succeeded in 1941 ? At last it had been demonstrated, in the eleventh hour, that Hitler could be overborn. In that case, might he not earlier have been overthrown by men of implacable determination and personality? All too obviously the scrupulous Prussian soldiers had never been a match for unscrupulous Nazi cold-bloodedness: an established system of disciplined ruthlessness had fallen victim to anarchic, modern gangsterism. True to his conclusions that the war was lost, Guderian, in collaboration with Speer, opened a defective campaign to limit its effects on Germany, and a major effort to bring it to an end with the connivance of anybody else in the Nazi hierarchy who might help. Speer's efforts to circumvent the programme of industrial destruction which Hitler wished to wreak upon the German homeland and economy was of only marginal use: what damage he managed to prevent with the aid of all manner of military and civil leaders was as nothing to the destruction wrought by the enemy who bombed, shelled and burnt at will - and often without discretion. Likewise Guderian's efforts to restrict the demolition of bridges and communications were doomed to failure. So, too, were his diplomatic advances, though these are a revealing commentary on Government 152/258
circles and his own disenchanted and sulphurous attitude to those in power. On 25th January he had a private meeting with the Foreign Minister, Joachim von Ribbentrop95, to whom he described in detail the hopeless state of military affairs along with the recommendation that they jointly see Hitler and propose the initiation of steps for an armistice. Ribbentrop dared not face the F端hrer with such a request. Moreover, although Ribbentrop asked Guderian not to mention their talk to Hitler, he at once wrote the F端hrer a memorandum explaining what had taken place. Guderian comments, 'So much the better'. One more row in the midst of so many was of little importance to him, as the record shows. Almost recklessly, day by day at every opportunity, he was attacking Hitler and his systems as well as pleading for Army officers who had been demoted to the ranks for some petty indiscretion. These were attacks upon Hitler's kind of Reich: for himself he did not care any longer; in loyalty to his subordinates he was unbending. A phantasmagoria of horror overlaid the scene. In February the lines to the West drew close to the Rhine and in early March lapped the river's banks. To the East, half of Prussia was overwhelmed and Berlin threatened as the incompetent Himmler tinkered with command. Deipenhof had long since been lost to the Guderians and the homeless Gretel now kept her husband company at OKH in its last resting place at Zossen. Here she shared the final days of his power along with the bombing which wrecked the place on 15th March and wounded Krebs96. On or about the 16th Himmler, faced by the spectre of disruption at the front opposite his Army Group Vistula and depressed in the knowledge that, as a military commander, he was completely unsuited - thus disproving again the Hitlerian notion that anybody could manipulate armies - had taken to his bed with a simulated attack of influenza. A plea from his Chief of Staff to Guderian,' Can't you rid us of our commander?' was received with the bland reply, 'That's a matter for the SS'. Nevertheless Guderian took an opportunity to visit Himmler and suggest he give up his command. This Himmler was unprepared to do in person but, taking a leaf from the Army'sjbook, agreed to the ever-willing Guderian's suggestion that he might do it on Himmler's behalf. Taking advantage of surprise, Guderian made the proposal to Hitler along with the suggestion that one of Germany's best surviving commanders, Generaloberst Gotthard Heinrici, should take Himmler's place. Hitler grumbled and would have preferred one of his sycophants, but once more Guderian had his way and Heinrici was appointed on 20th March. In the meantime Ribbentrop had, in secret, followed Guderian's earlier suggestion and was transmitting peace-feelers, indirectly bringing Guderian into his confidence as he did so, while mooting an approach to Himmler to see if he would add weight to their efforts. This Guderian did on the 21st, though with no apparent result, for Himmler, as usual, brushed an uncomfortable subject aside. But Guderian was mistaken in thinking that there was 'nothing to be done with the man'. Himmler was about to make his own choice, triggered by Guderian's initiative, and a few days later was engaged in private peace negotiations through Swedish contacts. Since Wheeler-Bennett calls Guderian's attempts at peacemaking ' half-hearted' and writes that'. .. certainly not Guderian himself was prepared to make this proposal to Hitler', the question must be put why Guderian did not take the plunge. To the Americans, after the war, he said he had been forbidden to do so, but that is insufficient. The answer probably lay in recent history and had nothing to do with Guderian's proven moral courage. In the previous July before the Bomb Plot, Rund-stedt, in a moment of fury, had addressed Keitel with the celebrated words 'Make peace you fools', and had been sacked. In practice in March it was fruitless and conceivably suicidal for an Army officer to become involved in anything the slightest bit remote from military affairs. So Guderian, whose resignation was forbidden by Hitler, soldiered on and probably was denied an ultimate attempt to end the holocaust only because Hitler, Keitel, JodI and Burgdorf were determined to be rid of him. Reading between the lines it is easy to detect what they may have guessed: Guderian was beginning, in the tradition of Chiefs of Staff of old, to manipulate the Government. Nobody who gave the impression that the war was lost, as did Guderian, was wanted. Even Speer, once the Fiihrer's favourite, was pushed aside because he flatly wrote to say that the war was lost. What little remained of law and order was being thrown to the winds. Nevertheless Guderian found Jodl arguing at his side when they successfully resisted an attempt by Hitler to 153/258
scrap the Geneva Conventions governing the Conduct of War. But, although Hitler's visions of defeat clarified themselves into a pattern of ultimate extinction, .Guderian and the vast majority of the Army Staff, along with the bulk of the German people, were blinded as to the depravity to which the state had been led. For example, the Propaganda Ministry managed to persuade Guderian to make a broadcast on 6th March in which he rebutted Russian accusations of German infidelities that included extermination camps with their gas chambers which had been found as the Russians advanced. Guderian said:' I have myself fought in the Soviet Union but have never noticed gas chambers and the like.' This evaded the question. Mostly the major extermination camps were on German or Polish soil. He was almost certainly entirely honest, however, when he denied seeing these places and it is most unlikely he guessed as to their outright genocidal purpose. The pitiless people who ran the camps went out of their way to hide them in inaccessible parts of the land. Idle chatter about such matters was strictly curtailed by the fearsome penalties which were exacted upon rumour-mongers. Moreover, almost any interchange of information was thoroughly proscribed by the efficient censorship of news and the careful compartmentation of the members of the population, a compartmenta-tion which extended through the government and military machine so that as few people as possible were aware of what was happening overall or even in their immediate vicinity. Nevertheless, in his position he must have known something. For example, von Barsewisch, who claims he heard of the extermination scheme in 1939 and that it was this which turned him from National Socialism to resistance, can hardly have failed to mention the subject when trying to persuade Guderian to join the resistance during the four-hour debate on 18th July 1944. Maybe it was this matter which Guderian did not, simply could not, believe - the whole horrible subject was certainly inconceivable to a normal imagination. After a conference immediately following Guderian's plea to Himmler, Hitler spoke in private to Guderian and suggested that, in view of Guderian's heart having apparently take a turn for the worse, a spell of four weeks' convalescent leave should be taken. This Guderian rejected on the grounds that the loss through injury of Wenck and Krebs left nobody capable of doing the work of deputy. There seems to have been no warning of an imminent demotion and Guderian omits comment as to its possible inner purport. But it is reasonable to speculate that Hitler, once more apprised of Guderian's manoeuvres behind his back and sensing that too much influence revolved around the Chief of Staff, was determined to put an end to them. Pleas of ill-health were, by then, the standard excuse for terminating the appointments of men who had become irksome. Hitler himself was" in appalling shape, his judgement warped by the depredations of physical and mental decay. In conference on the 23rd Burgdorf raised the matter of Guderian's future, indicating that he was in a hurry and he had a candidate for the job. Again no decision was taken because the doctors would not pass either Wenck or Burgdorf s nominee, Krebs, fit. That day, in the West, the Allies crossed the Rhine in strength and, in the East, the Ninth Army under General Busse began an attempt to relieve a garrison cut off at Kiistrin. At Kustrin there was failure at heavy cost. According to Heinrici, reported by Cornelius Ryan in his The Last Battle, Guderian insisted upon another attempt. Hitler wanted it. When Heinrici suggested that it would be better for the beseiged forces to break out 'Guderian flared at the proposal: "The attack .must be mounted", he had shouted'. On the 27th it was and Kustrin was actually reached after a display of sacrificial courage by the soldiers, though within hours the relieving force was driven back by the Russians who were overpowering in artillery and tanks. In the West, at that same moment, Frankfurt-on-Main fell to the Americans who, with the French and British, were moving almost unchecked into central Germany. Guderian states that he tried to prevent the final attempt at Kustrin and that during the conference on the 27th there were hard words from Hitler as to the troops' performance and about Busse's competence. Guderian assembled irrefutable evidence proving that all that could be done was done and wrote a memorandum to that effect. It is evident that he recognised the threat to his appointment and was making every effort to retain power. Seeking further information he asked permission to visit the front and examine the situation in person. This was refused by Hitler who, instead, instructed Guderian and Busse to appear before him at the next conference on the 28th. 154/258
What followed at that meeting is obscure - and that is hardly surprising since, from the outset, tension was high and emotional stress predominant. In essence,. Hitler accused Busse of negligence and Guderian angrily refuted Hitler's every word. It is doubtful if the scene was more turbulent than that which attended the earlier direct confrontations of the Fiihrer by his Chief of Staff. It is equally obvious that Hitler was primed. As soon as it became clear that Guderian had no intention of backing down, Hitler cleared the room of everybody except himself and Keitel. Those who left must either have dreaded or longed for a violent end. They knew Guderian had taken his life in his hands. As Warlimont writes, he had shown'... for the second time exemplary "moral courage" in protecting his subordinates'. It matters not that Warlimont (who had left OKW in September and therefore did not witness the major period of Guderian's days as Chief of Staff) was unaware of the other numerous occasions when 'moral courage' was displayed. What matters is that the last great Chief of Staff kept faith with the calling and fought for his beliefs to the end. There was anti-climax. Hitler mildly told Guderian that he should take six weeks' convalescent leave and then return because 'the situation will be very critical'. Indeed it would be; by then Hitler would be dead and Germany-in-arms extinguished. They parted at the end of the conference, neither regretting to see the back of the other, Guderian fortunate to escape with the freedom to choose where he wished to go. As the one general to win the FĂźhrer's respect in the last days of the Third Reich he certainly earned the privilege. He had sacrificed many ideals. Remembering how lack of an intact Army in 1919 had totally undermined Germany's bargaining power in the peace negotiations, he had tried and failed to keep the Army safe. In the process he had acted out of character, had played politics and thus fallen below the nobler principles which were normally his guide. But politicians' standards, as so often he had noticed, were different from those of soldiers - and Germany came before self. After taking leave of the staff at Zossen, the Guderians made their way to Munich where he underwent a few weeks' treatment for a heart which was fatigued rather than weakened. Then, on 1st May, he rejoined the Headquarters of the Panzer Inspectorate where it had found refuge in the Tyrol and on the 10th, while still by title Inspector General, entered American captivity.
The Final Stand Among the most traumatic paradoxes of Guderian's experience was the sudden and cataclysmic reversal of his mode of life which took place within the few weeks after his dismissal as Chief of Staff. From being the holder of one of the mo§t prestigious offices in Germany he became, almost overnight, a fugitive and then the captive of foes who planned his prosecution for war crimes. At one moment he was engaged upon tasks which legally demanded an aggressive outlook and the next he was thrown back entirely upon the defensive in justifying the propriety of his previous employment. It was far from the least of his achievements that he adapted himself to these swift changes in- fortune with relatively good humour and assured dignity. Precedent may have come to his aid: it was not the first time he had experienced abject defeat. The intention of the victorious Allies, to bring both the persons and organisations of their late opponents to trial, threatened members of the General Staff with a double chance of standing in the dock either for such criminal acts as they were deemed to have committed as individuals or as the servants of organisations - the Great General Staff and OKW -- which were to be tried en bloc. It was as a potential war criminal in his own right and as a member of the General Staff that Guderian found himself incarcerated by the Americans along with many of his past colleagues in triumph and tragedy - among them Halder, Thomale, Milch, Praun, List, Weichs, Blomberg, and Leeb. Initially their treatment was overbearingly that to be expected by the vanquished from an arrogant conqueror, and the generals were submitted to many humiliations. Strik-Strikfeld records that, 'In general Guderian's bearing was dignified and soldierly, particularly when the American guards started to play tricks. I remember an American sergeant pointing a carbine at him and he stood there calmly facing him. I was close at hand and we managed to get the sergeant to drop his carbine'. And later Strik-Strikfeld recalls a day when a number of Russian officers who had fought on the German side were being made ready for transfer back to their homeland - and certain death for treason. 'List, Weichs and Guderian went across to a 155/258
young American captain who had always been correct and even friendly. "We must protest against the handing over of our Russian comrades to the Soviet authorities." The Captain said he was merely carrying out his orders ... I can still see them standing there, the two field-marshals and the general, once so powerful, now helpless and pleading . , .' Gradually conditions for the generals improved. Interrogation followed by interrogation helped pass the time, and to describe their experiences to their captors (even though the threat of following their Russian comrades was rarely far from their thoughts) was a fruitful way of reliving past glories and defining their part in creating one of the most remarkable military machines the world had known. Guderian, as the architect of the key Panzertruppe and a past Chief of Staff, was at once recognised as a star turn and he, too, at first, gave freely of his knowledge. A revealing glimpse of Guderian is obtained through the American officers who interrogated him. On 26th August, 1945, Major Kenneth Hechler, an infantryman, sat down to question him on the subject of the employment of panzer forces in Normandy. The entire exchange was friendly and in English and came as a pleasant surprise to Hechler who was aware that, previously, Historical Division officers had not found Guderian too co-operative. Guderian greeted Hechler genially with: 'Aha! A fellow armoured officer!', which Hechler sceptically adjudged as '. . . just so much soft soap, but I did not have the feeling that he twisted any of his real opinions in order to say what he felt an American would like to hear. He responded quickly to all of the questions and I do not believe that he was trying to make any particular impression or grind an axe.' Guderian's attitude waxed and waned in relation to the treatment he received and the aptitude of his intelocutors. For a prolonged period he withdrew all co-operation because it came to his ears that the Poles were demanding he should be handed over to them for trial. But the timing of this refusal was in some ways unfortunate since it coincided with a creative idea being fomented by the Americans. Dr George Shuster, the head of the War Department Interrogation Commission, is quoted as saying that'.. . after talking with Genera] Guderian he could think of nothing more calculated to produce a good, strategic history of the German General Staff than to bring Guderian to the United States and install him on somebody's porch up in Connecticut for a summer of casual conversation'. Shuster's impression bore fruit in early 1946 when the Americans began to concentrate more than 200 former German generals and staff officers in one camp at Allendorf in order to gather as much information as they could from their previous enemies. In their opinion the two men with outstanding qualifications who should act as coordinators of the German writers were Halder and Guderian, but this was at once rendered impracticable because Guderian was moving through one of his periods of non-co-operation and in any case he and Halder were not on speaking terms. So Halder became co-ordinator in one of the most remarkable historical research projects ever attempted, while Guderian, when finally he decided that it was safe and in his better interests to help (he was told on 18th June 1947, his birthday, that all charges had been dropped), made contributions on the periphery and commented upon the major studies and those upon which he could focus his special expertise. As much for the insight they give into his way of thinking as in the nature of their contribution to the matters with which he dealt, his commentaries are valuable reading: prejudices and pride are intermingled with the caustic shafts which won him a special recognition among the Americans. But Guderian was far from being alone in expressions of pique: factions gathered round Halder, with the traditionalists on the one side, and the progressives, including Guderian, on the other. Thus Generalfeldmarschalls von Blomberg and Erhardt Milch97 (the master-builder of the Luftwaffe under Goring) suffered from a form of ostracism in company with Guderian. Haider, for example, declined to shake the hand of Milch when it was offered and repeatedly declined even to discuss the quarrel with Guderian. In this military university the members of rival academic factions, in the process of relieving the tedium of captivity, hurled verbal darts at each other while they refought - on paper - the battles of the past. A passage at arms with General der Infanterie Edgar Roehricht provides a good example of Guderian's invective when roused. Roehricht, in a paper describing, somewhat inaccurately from memory, the training organisation of OKH, had seen fit to criticise the methods employed by the Panzer Command, and to resurrect the infantry's fundamental distastes for the tank men. As an opening retort Guderian wrote: 'The study shows that the author had just as little peacetime training experience as wartime 156/258
combat experience' - a tart piece of defamation since Roehricht had much experience in many capacities, as Guderian should have known. Guderian went on to object to remarks such as, 'The arbitrary manners of the armoured forces from the very beginning . .' and summarised his views (to the satisfaction of the American editors who deleted Roehricht's offending passages) with 'The contributor . . . also knows nothing about the Inspector General of Panzer Troops. Who was "disturbed" by the Inspector General? The work of the Inspector General did not lead to any'' duplication of effort" nor did it cause any lack of uniformity in tactical views. It certainly had no "fatal consequences".' The principal articles written by Guderian for the American project were a long paper describing the training of General Staff Officers and a study giving his personal concept of the structure of joint command in the future. In the latter he developed an expansive and controversial line of thought, tackling the problem from a joint service angle instead of narrowly from that of Army High Command, and demonstrating his grasp of the essential need for such a concept in substantiation of his long-standing belief in unification. Halder treated the paper to some typically acetic, though by no means invalid and unconstructive, comments. Unhappily the exchanges between these two were injurious to their reputations and productive of factions. Among Halder's loyal adherents, an insinuation that Guderian was shallow, as Halder, with unworthy insincerity, made him out to be, became current. And Guderian, to the world at large, was to present Haider as of lesser calibre than, in fact, this remarkable man was. Halder the cool intellectual with a schoolmasterly manner, and Guderian, the dynamic man of ideas and action were worthy of better things. Throughout this academic period behind bars in the unaccustomed role of comparatively passive inactivity - a style of secluded intellectual activity which had eluded him since the 1920s Guderian was at last to find a relaxation which previously would have been inconceivable. To his elder son, who as a General Staff officer was his fellow prisoner, he appeared as something of a revelation in that he began to play bridge for the first time - and did so light heartedly. Moreover, he tended the camp vegetable patch with immense enjoyment. Heinz-Gunther recalls those days with a sense of keen enjoyment. In 1948, too, the Americans were registering his father as a 'very kindly man, cheerful . . . with an excellent sense of humour', but, by then, of course, Guderian already knew he was not to be abandoned to the Poles, or any other court of justice. 'The straight road', as he wrote to Gretel, 'proves right in the long run.' And when captivity at last came to an end on his 60th birthday in June 1948 (he was the last to be released from the camp at Neustadt although, during the last six months, Gretel was allowed to be with him), it was to move to a small house at Schwangau, there to begin work on the memoirs for which he had laid foundations while in prison and to start gardening with characteristic enthusiasm and a quite astonishing knowledge. And, as old men will, he planted trees. The garden of the home he later bought at Wurnburg is, to-day, a miniature forest! Battles there remained to be fought, though none with much relish. In 1948 it came to his notice that Schfabrendorff s book, Offiziere gegen Hitler, which had already been published in Switzerland, was about to be serialised in a Munich newspaper. The serious allegations against Guderian's conduct had to be combated, particularly the assertion that he had betrayed the 20th July plotters in order to become Chief of Staff. A prolonged wrangle took place out of court and resulted in what, in some respects, amounted to a Pyrrhic victory. Nevertheless the documents and sworn affidavits by Guderian and Thomale stimulated and provide an important contribution to the history of resistance against Hitler. When Schlabrendorff recanted in the pages of the Munchener Abendzeitung, saying '. . . much new material has been found. Due to this a rewrite of the book has begun . ; . For this reason I have asked the editor of the Munchener Abendzeitung to stop publication of the old edition', his letter appeared under the headline 'The End of a Legend'. The paper added its own comment to the effect that, already, the case at that moment being heard against Haider showed that there could be no talk of a substantial political resistance to Hitler among the General Staff. Guderian was never brought to trial because there was nothing of substance against him. The remainder of his life was spent mostly in a backwater, although he was constantly engaged in correspondence with journalists all over the world and in caring for the interests of his old com157/258
rades of all ranks. Yet occasionally his name cropped up as a shot fired in the cold war being waged between East and West. In October 1950 he wrote a booklet about European defence called 'Can Western Europe be Defended?', its appearance timed to raise alarm at a moment of appalling weakness of the West's defences as NATO began to seek new teeth to make its task credible. The booklet caused a stir, the London Times referring to people's bewilderment at the authoritative ring of a voice from the recent iniquitous German past and the general's acceptance of an estimate that the Russians had 175 divisions at readiness which they could raise to 500. And in 1951, at the invitation of his publisher, another evocative little booklet appeared - So Geht es Nicht (This cannot be the Right Way) - in which he unflinchingly and predictably stated the view held by so many people, that Germany could not remain divided and that there was a danger that NATO, in rearming the Germans, wished only to use them as the principal defenders of a unified Europe against the threat from the East. Looking farther ahead he added the fear that the Western Powers would exhaust themselves by the struggles in the Far East to the detriment of the essential defence of Europe. In that year, too, the Poles, searching no doubt for political advantage, exploited the name Guderian with its old symbolism of naked German aggression: they complained to the USA that Guderian was in charge of an alleged intelligence organisation which 'established the so-called Guderian group for smuggling American agents into Poland' -an accusation which lacked foundation. These mild forays and minor disturbances ruffled him but little, while the intense interest of Germans and foreigners in Panzer Leader (which the critics gave a fair if not exuberant reception) was exhilarating. It starred among the best-sellers of 1952 in the USA (where he was made an Honorary Member of the International Mark Twain Society in March 1954) and was translated into ten languages including Russian, Polish and Chinese. Within a few months of its publication his health fell into decline and on 17th May 1954 he died. Above his grave members of the Frontier Police fired a last salute, for military honours he could not receive since the German Army had yet to be reborn. But in the final days of his life he was aware that the organisation that had absorbed his career must soon be recreated. The negotiations to rearm Germany were in train. In October she was to be admitted to NATO and the Bundeswehr, a unified defence force of which he might have approved, became a certainty. It was part of this man's final tragedy that the new Germany and its Bundeswehr still finds it impossible to pay him the official honour which is his due. A plan to name barracks after him in the 1960s remains unfulfilled.
Seer,Technician, Genius or Germany's best General? It has to be left to the imagination whether Guderian could have fulfilled all the demands that can be placed upon a high commander for he never held a completely independent high command. Therefore it is impossible to assess fully his qualities at this level by the standards of Field-Marshal Lord Wavell when he declared that he would only consider the high-commander in history who had' . . . handled large forces in an independent command in more than one campaign and who had shown his qualities in adversity as well as in success'. Wavell's qualifications as a judge are undeniable: among modern commanders he is almost unique in his record of endurance of the vicissitudes of independent command in many campaigns - in success and in adversity - and, also, respected as a writer with profound insight into the problem of generalship. Let it be recalled that Erwin Rommel carried a copy of Wavell's lectures on campaign with him, though Guderian seems hardly to have felt the need for a foreign mentor - except, perhaps, Fuller. Nevertheless Wavell's criteria are useful in evaluating Guderian as a Great Captain, even if the field-marshal's requirements have to be adapted because Guderian had, perforce, to filch independent command of large forces by circumventing the restrictive orders of his superiors. It is, in fact, by his propensity to walk alone, divorced from traditional orthodoxy, that Guderian must be judged, for he cannot be assessed by the standards of his more obedient contemporaries from whom so frequently, with calculated dissent, he stood apart. Guderian was that rare combination of a man of ideas equipped with the ability and verve to turn inspiration into reality. No other general in the Second World War - and few in history - managed to impress so wide and intrinsic a change upon the military art in so short a time, and left such a trail of controversy in 158/258
his wake. And so the questions about this maverick general which have to be answered concern the impact of his unorthodoxy (if unorthodoxy it was) upon events as well as those concerning wisdom and stability of character. Was he seer or empiricist, a mere technician or a radical genius? Above all, in a profession which abides by strict discipline and standardised behaviour, could he be damned as an instrument of negative disruption or upheld as the harbinger of a new kind of military unity? By creating a unified Panzertruppe within the German Army was he a cause of fragmentation within that army? Or was it automatically productive that, by forging a system that parallelled the first attempt at creating a consolidated Defence Force, he introduced conditions which eliminated the burden of a long attritional war, such as ended in 1918, and made feasible, once more, campaigns of swift, economic viability? Under the headings by which Wavell tested a High Commander, there is abundant evidence in support of Guderian's strategic insight. The confident stroke against the rear of the entire Polish Army at Brest Litovsk in the culminating phase of the 'Great Manoeuvres' of September 1939, when his execution and verve far exceeded in practice his superior commander's expectations, was explicit of the feasibility of a military practice Guderian had been developing, almost in isolation, for fifteen years. The exploitation to the Channel coast after crossing the MeuseinMay 1940, including Guderian's suicidal gesture of resignation when his intentions were frustrated, is confirmation that his boldly publicised concept of mechanised warfare contained strategic applications that far exceeded simple military demands; whole nations bent before a system based on elitist principles that, historically, were the essence of orthodoxy. The astonishing speed and purposeful direction of the drive to Smolensk and into the Ukraine in the summer of 1941, along with a skilful juggling of inadequate resources to achieve an outstanding series of envelopments, was further proof of his aptitude in devising a true economy of force - even though its outcome turned into an experience of major personal adversity along with defeat for the Army. Finally, as an example of strategic competence in retreat, there was the halting of the Russian forces at the gates of Warsaw in August 1944 - a brilliant husbanding of minimal resources in ending a rout. By the same token the subtle tactical handling of units and formations which, at the beginning of each campaign, were so often out-numbered, and in frequently producing by surprise that overwhelming concentration of strength at the crucial point^puts Guderian on a par with the Great Captains. Though the original strategic plan to break through the Ardennes into northern France in 1940 belongs to Manstein, it was Guderian who reinforced the High Command's nerve by confidently pronouncing the feasibility of infiltrating massed mechanised armies through intricate terrain (a genuinely original concept in its day) and he whose pre-war preparations engineered the techniques that made the movement possible not only by his own corps but by that of every other part of the German Army. For he had developed the unique logistic and communication systems which enabled mechanised troops to operate independently for up to five days, and to respond rapidly and flexibly to the commands of its leaders. Without this system in perfect operation nothing would have prevailed. However, the tactics which the Germans employed with such panache throughout the Second World War (except when untutored influences intervened) were only made possible by superb training. In this connection Guderian also satisfies Wavell. To whatever level - section, company, battalion or any one of the higher formations - that Guderian addressed his creative mind in the search for innovation and the improvement of efficiency, new heights of excellence were reached. Not only did he dream, study and synthesise, but he built practical organisations and expounded his ideas with a crisp phraseology that epitomised his irresistible enthusiasm and sense of practical purpose. He was omnipotent, a trainer and director of training rolled into one who so rationalized new methods that he left himself ample tune to tackle, with asperity, those in authority who - in reality or imagination - stood to bar the way to the future. He had a remarkable facility for drawing the best out of his troops or squeezing the most from his superiors; nowhere was this better demonstrated than in his drive into the Ukraine in August and September 1941. Here was the repudiation of those who said he was 'no good with men'. Yet although the personal staff officers and ADCs remember their general with deepest admiration and affection few were blind to his shortcomings. For Guderian's problems were almost as often created by the man as the system or the enemy. His Chiefs of Staff sometimes had difficulty keeping track 159/258
of him and the orders he gave when separated from them by distance. As Walther Nehring, one of the most efficient of them, said to me, 'His thoughts would race ahead and sometimes he had to be pulled back, and while he was a deep thinker he was also liable to act without thinking'. The same could be said of Rommel's tactical flair - but not his intellect. And what of the soldiers whose faces lit up in his presence? Well, with this general they knew where they stood. Drive them hard though he did, they responded, recognising him as one among them because he really fought at their side in a way few higher commanders ever did. Particularly in time of war (probably more than in peace) the soldiers were touched by his warm humanity, which is the essence of leadership. To him the spur to the most self-sacrificing of all his assaults upon Germany's supreme leadership was the belief that incompetence was ruining both his beloved country and the men of the Panzertruppe. Nehring also helps answer another of Wavell's criteria, that concerning Guderian's energy and driving power in planning a battle. In a German Army which was well supplied with senior officers of outstanding intellect and enormous drive, Guderian won a pre-eminent reputation for seemingly inexhaustible spirits, inventiveness and an utter determination to have his way-if not at once, certainly within the foreseeable future. Reinforcing this tenacity was a much tougher robustness than is sometimes supposed, for while Guderian allowed it to become common knowledge that he had a weak heart (to which he drew attention in a hypochondriac style that is unusual among high military commanders who normally prefer to conceal their defects), there is not one occasion on which ill-health actually prevented him from completing a task. Each physical collapse occurred briefly after an exhausting series of events or some quite shattering experience. And at the end, let it be emphasised, it was not a heart defect which took him to the grave. Nehring says of his commander's physique and his ability to carry through ideas to their fulfilment: 'He never showed signs of strain because he was a strong man - but one who drove himself hard. In time of battle he would find sleep easy to come by and as a commander he was easy to work for - wonderful in the way he gave one encouragement, full of banter and provocation in his efforts to get the best out of you'. And then with great emphasis, 'He had charisma - much charisma!' But strategic and tactical ability, skill as a trainer, and reserves of physique and willpower are qualities such as lesser commanders may possess without satisfying the demands of high command. There is another essential facility required - perhaps, in the nature of centralisation that evolved out of the elaborate signal systems produced by communication officers like Fellgiebel and Praun, the most important facility of all: it is the ability to deal productively with Government and with Allies. In company with Allies Guderian underwent relatively few tests and none of prolonged severity. In the opening stages of his spell as a commander in the field his victories were won with German troops alone. He was spared the frustrations of Rommel in trying to prise concessions out of unwilling Italians; of Manstein making the best of failing Rumanians and Hungarians, and of Dietl in spurring on the reluctant Finns. Indeed, when he was Chief of the General Staff in the closing stages of war, there were few allies left to Germany, and those that remained withdrew shortly after he took office. But there is nothing to suggest that he was incapable, through lack of courtliness and understanding, of negotiating intuitively with other nationalities, for he was a German without racial prejudice. And it is satisfactory to recall that drinks supplied by the Japanese Ambassador suitably fortified him prior to a memorably stormy dispute with Hitler in February 1945. In debate with Government, however - and for most purposes this meant with Adolf Hitler - it is much more difficult, because of the dictator's complexity and ambiguity, to draw a positive conclusion. Between them there seems to have been some sort of mutual understanding, perhaps a genuine empathy strengthened on Guderian's part by a belief that the Fuhrer could be the saviour of Germany in desperate days besides the essential sponsor of the struggling Panzertruppe. When the threat of war was remote Guderian backed a man who, unbeknown to him, was bent upon confrontations and conflict placed in his hands 'the sharp sword' that made possible a short war - the only sort Germany could successfully sustain. And while this stimulated Guderian's ambition, it also strengthened Hitler's hand against German generals who were divided 160/258
among themselves over the pace and shape of military reconstruction. The schism within the General Staff ranks was thus not only, in part, of Guderian's making, but of aid to Hitler in his antipathy to the General Staff. The efforts of the highest in command to reduce Guderian's standing prior to September 1939 and their continuing attempts to denigrate him ever after were central to the struggle between State and Army, an intrigue of profound complexity since it reflected the conflicting emotions inherent in a process of rapid institutional change. The instincts of the older, tepid members of the German General Staff turned uneasily against the dyjiamism of a strongly persuasive character who sought radical change - it was natural that they should do so. Amid the all-consuming struggle surrounding Guderian on the eve of war it is less remarkable that he was among the last to perceive the evil and menace which Hitler posed. Not only was the truth obscured by Hitler, but antagonism by his military superiors, their hostility through 1939 to 1941, forcibly contributed to Guderian's fatal belief that Hitler should be saved from the incompetence of his own High Command. It is easy to criticise Guderian for persisting in attempts to educate the megalomaniac after he had, at last, in 1942, come to detect the Fiihrer's failings. One has to understand, in this context, Hitler's unassailable position and point out that what hope of change remained in 1943 could only be realised by indirect action from within the system rather than direct action from without. The eventual failure of the active resisters in 1944 consolidates this view. Hitler merely exploited Guderian's loyalty to the utmost and without requital. It was in his dealings with the Head of State and his underlings - some of them brilliant men that exposed the essential fissures of Guderian's character without, in the final analysis, entirely fulfilling Wavell's most exacting demands. Guderian, like Wavell, failed to develop a satisfactory working arrangement with his political master. For Wavell, of course, the perils involved were less acute: when he rigorously, though ineffectually, opposed Churchill, he merely hazarded his career. By each act of resistance to Hitler, Guderian risked torture and staked his own life and possibly that of his family too. It is in the light of knowledge that opposition to Hitler, particularly in the closing days of the war, might inflict fatal consequences without doing the slightest good, that Guderian's fundamental political attitude must be examined in the latter years. Far sighted in army matters though Guderian certainly was as the result of an almost exclusively military education, and politically aware as he showed himself to be at critical moments of his career, it can never convincingly be claimed that he possessed innate political sense and judgement such as equipped politically orientated soldiers like von Schleicher and von Reichenau. Guderian frequently failed to detect the warning signs of oncoming change - could not, as was said of von Reichenau, ' hear the grass grow'. Not that either Schleicher or Reichenau, who helped promote the Nazis, managed to read the future with infallible accuracy, but they did at least recognise the dangers inherent in Nazism and took steps, albeit too late and fallaciously, to curb them. Guderian, on the other hand, tended to swallow the official line, to trust too long-without appreciating the consequences. Ironically, he who formulated radically effective military schemes was prone to accept radically pernicious political notions. His readiness to stand at the side of extremists in the Baltic States in 1919, his support for the Nazi programme in the mid 1930s, his reiteration of Hitler's dogma and diplomatic ploys, bear the marks of superficiality in understanding political motivations and their meaning. Let it be added, however, that he was just one among many in Germany and abroad who were taken in. Yet, while it became habitual for him to challenge those military views which offended his inculcated critical faculties, there is only scanty contemporary evidence to indicate his detection and rejection of politically repugnant ideas. It is erroneous to believe that German officers divorced themselves from the world beyond the barrack gates; the General Staff regularly heard lectures on important issues delivered by qualified speakers. The system failed because so many intellectual personalities had fled the country or abandoned their integrity to Nazi ideology in the interests of personal survival. An unbiased objective dissertation was no longer possible when leading intellectuals from all professions fell silent or became warped in their judgement. Their lack of dissent against Nazism in its formative days contributed strongly to Germany's decline into servile unscrupulousness. Guderian, 161/258
the lower orders of the General Staff, and the rest of the people were.exposed to unrefuted evil. He and they became all the more politically vulnerable through receiving bad advice and taking an insufficiently critical interest in doctrinaire politics and current affairs. They had been trapped in a characteristic German pursuit, that of the search for an Ideal and a rash haste in implementing it without deep regard for the implications. It was but a foregone conclusion that, as Chief of Staff in 1944, Guderian stood only the remotest chance of diverting or reversing the political stream which had run so strongly under Hitler's control since 1938, when Hitler had first undermined the authority of the War Minister, the Army Commander-in-Chief and his Chief of Staff. Justly, in reference to these events after the war, Guderian wrote:' . . . younger officers could not conceive that their superiors would accept without a struggle and without proper action a development which those superiors, as they now allege, clearly recognised at the time as disadvantageous and even pernicious. However, this is precisely what did happen, and it happened at a time when it was still possible to offer resistance - in peacetime.� And yet, in commenting upon the rapid superimposition of an Armed Forces Command (OKW) in time of rearmament and war upon the existing and wasteful system of independent command by each of the three Services, Guderian, in post-war documents, seems not to have fully evaluated the effects of removing a vital, political counterweight. He plays down its political disruptiveness while keen to defend its military advantages. And so when he became the head of a politically devalued organisation (OKH) he felt the draught since he then was deprived of that direct influence over the Head of State which he so badly needed. Therefore, ironically'in the winter of 1945, he was compelled to indulge in the very sort of intrigue with politicians that Seeckt frowned upon and Guderian himself, ostensibly in the past, had disapproved. But in the forlorn efforts to manipulate the government and end the war before Germany was overwhelmed, Seecktian rules and principles went overboard. Guderian failed in this attempt as would any other reformer have failed against the entrenched Nazi hierarchy of that time. There was simply nobody left with both the courage and the influence to change Hitler's mind or eject this mentally deranged demagogue and his sycophants. It is, of course, permissable to ask if he could have produced successful resistance in 1938, but this speculation is profitless. To have succeeded where Beck and Brauchitsch and Haider failed, and in so doing satisfied the most exacting of Wavell's requirements, Guderian needed the requisite seniority and prestige - and it was only time and the war which provided these. By then Hitler was treating him, like the rest, with 'scornful disregard1. It is a travesty of history, though perhaps only a passing phase, that the German people remain scantily aware of the virtues of their generals who were painted black by detractors. The fear of a caste exists and is kept fresh. In 1965 the newspaper Die Zeit criticised the proposal by the Bundeswehr to name Army barracks after Guderian on the grounds that his character was not emblematic and that he was an unsuitable example because his behaviour was not always exemplary. The old aspersions about his conduct in the summer of 1944 were resurrected with journalistic fervour and, although it was conceded he could not be blamed for taking no part directly in the plot because it was a very difficult matter of conscience, an insinuation of Guderian's unworthiness was but faintly veiled. It is part of the Guderian enigma that he chose not to reveal (not even to his son) his knowledge and tacit assent of the attempt to kill Hitler and that, in maintaining his objection to murder as a political solvent, he deliberately allowed the censure of his people rather than their approbation. Guderian has been more generously treated abroad though mainly, it must be said, as the author of Panzer Leader and as a prophet and architect of a type of warfare which is now orthodox. Whenever tanks and armoured forces win some new victory a reference to the name of Guderian usually crops up. How can he be classified then? A seer? In the strict military sense, the answer can be a qualified 'yes' in that he visualised warfare of the future, A technician? Certainly, since he capitalised upon his vision with professional absorption in his trade to create machinery that worked as near to perfection as is possible in war. A genius? Well, his inspired ability to turn ideas into reality and action by powerfully influencing opinions, feelings, spirit and method can no more be overlooked than he himself could be ignored in person. It was his last Chief of Staff, 162/258
Thomale, who called him 'Germany's best and most responsible general'. Let a disinterested judgement be that of his interrogators, the sceptical American officers who tackled this formidable general across a table in the prison cages after the war, and whose initial scepticism about an enemy eventually was converted to respect, if not admiration for the man. 'The military career of Heinz Guderian is in itself enough to establish his ability as an organiser, a theorist and an, aggressive field commander1, it was written. To them he retained 'his exceptional intellectual integrity, his firm and uncompromising attitude, his untact-fulness under stress and his alloy of courtliness and acid humour. He is a man who writes what he thinks and who does not alter his opinions to suit his audience.' This judgement linked with knowledge of the man's staunchness, amply satisfies Wavell in his demands that a general '... must have "character" ' -which, he continued, 'simply means that he knows what he wants and has the courage and determination to get it. He should have a genuine knowledge of humanity, the raw materials of his trade, and, most vital of all, he must have what we call the fighting spirit, the will to win.' But, in the final analysis, what of the man, the compassionate being who could write such tender letters to his wife and who could feel profound sorrow for Hitler, a man without' .. . friendship with fine men, the pure love for a wife, affection of one's own children'? It is the transmitted warmth of Guderian and his joy in warmth among others which makes him pre-eminent among great generals. Embraced as he was by his professional calling, he performed his duty with sincerity under most hazardous and complicated conditions.
Panzer Tactics A everyone knows, theory and practice do not ilways coincide. That is exacdy how it was with the German philosophy of the employment of armored formations in World War II, Although Germany was well ahead of all other armies in the fundamentals of commitment and in the art of operational command from the mid-thirties, within the Wehrmacht there were abundant violations of those fundamentals when it came to putting them into practice on the operational and tactical levels. Thus a study of German armored operations cannot have the goal of documenting the many violations of principle. Instead, I intend to make clear how the German fundamentals of employing armor formations differ from those of other nations even to the present day. Those tactically effective doctrines were one of the ultimate reasons for the success of German troops on a local level until the final weeks of the war. The technical literature includes countless competent presentations at the level of operational/ strategic command (army and higher). That also holds true at the tactical/operational level of army corps and division. Totally underrepresented are factually correct descriptions of the level of command that bears the actual burden and rigor of the battle, that of the regiment—generally, the brigade in modern usage—and the battalion. With appropriate reinforcements for combat and employment, they generally form the heart of the operation in that they become the battle groups (Kampfgrup-pen) or combat formations, frequently approaching divisional strength. The reasons for the gaps in the literature are manifold. The interested reader usually wants an overview of a battle or a military theater without getting lost in the details of individual fighting. Also, most of the war literature inevitably comes from generals, some of whom have no knowledge at all regarding situations so far under them. An additional aspect is that operational command in action at lower levels is, in part, more difficult than that of the larger formations, which an intelligent general staff officer can learn in a few years of ongoing training, regardless of what branch of service he belongs to. Command skills at the lower tactical level do not come from theoretical studies or sheer talent. One has to work long years at all levels to gain that experience. It was no accident that, by the end of the war, officers ranging from die level of divisional command to that of commanding general of an army corps were predominately men who had started the war as small-unit commanders and risen through command of small formations to command of large organizations. In the process, reserve officers were in the majority. By using the classical weapon employed at the point of main effort (Schwerpunktwaffe)—the armor formation—I will familiarize the reader with the different types of operational roles and oth163/258
er missions that exist during operations. Right at the beginning, an essential fundamental principle must be taken to heart: tanks achieve their success primarily and predominately through offensive action. That is true whether the tactical operational situation is offensive or defensive. As a commander of armies von Manstein masterfully demonstrated how German armor formations could achieve remarkable successes when they were committed in (counter-) attacks, even within the context of overall retreat. The tank, therefore, must constantly remain the sword in the hand of the tactical commander. He must use it offensively against the enemy, even in hopeless situations. If he forgoes this advantage by committing tanks to stationary positions or, even worse, digs them in and allows them to degenerate into a direct-support weapon for the infantry, then he is like a knight of old who has been reduced to the dubious protection of his shield. The initiative an armor leader instinctively seeks then passes over to the enemy. Misunderstandings regarding the combat value of tanks continually arose when they were assigned roles beyond their capabilities or which they could only perform in quite limited fashion. These misunderstandings arose when the tank was considered as the sole ruler of the battlefield. Such high-flown expectations in turn assume that the tank can withstand any threat, even though an abundance of such threats may be directed against it. In addition to direct-fire weapons of all calibers, there are indirect fire systems, mines, obstacles, close-quarters combat systems with hollow-charge or simple incendiary devices and an increasing number of missiles that can be used at minimal distances from cover by individual riflemen. There is always great disillusionment when the tank formation, stressed beyond its capabilities, suffers hair-raising losses. It is hardly surprising to hear in many circles that the tank has become obsolete as an effective combat weapon. Such conclusions fail to recognize that it is always necessary to employ the best weapon for the intended objective at the correct time and commit it in terrain that does not grant the enemy an advantage before the operation even begins. The troop leader must continuously attend to the prerequisites for the operation, not only through choice of terrain and correct timing, but also through proper force ratios and effective combat support, particularly from the air. The main battle tank (Kampfpanzer) is limited by technical requirements and does not have unlimited capabilities (protection against all possible threats). It requires a precise balance between a practical level of protection, on the one hand, and, in the final analysis, the far more important capability to function against the enemy. That combination is the ability to dominate the battlefield. It comes from the sum of the tank's capabilities and not from over-emphasis on a single characteristic. Only when firepower, mobility, protection and command and control capability are combined in a balanced whole can a tank function effectively as a system and be more effective than a system which was not conceived according to these principles. Other aspects also contribute to effectiveness, such as good training of the crew, a high level of technical reliability, a large logistical operating range etc. It is, in the final analysis, futile to argue whether the Tiger or some other tank was the best armored fighting vehicle of the Second World War. The mass-produced M4 Sherman stood no chance in a direct engagement with a Tiger. Nevertheless, it was a successful model because it was technically reliable and was provided to the troops in inexhaustible numbers. The Soviet T34 was rugged and did not require a high-technology industrial base for its mass production. What advantage did the Tiger provide the Wehrmacht if the enemy manufactured 20 tanks to every Tiger that left the factory? It was "acceptable" for an American crew to "consume" half a dozen or more Shermans between landing in France and arriving at Germany's borders. A successful main battle tank thus depends on a series of factors. It was quite clear that the chances for survival for a tank crew in a Panzerkampfwagen IV were significantly lower than in a Tiger. It would not have been advantageous to the Wehrmacht if, instead of a Tiger, three or four Panzerkampfwagen IV's had been manufactured. Even the best weapons system must finally bow to quantitative threats. Although produced at considerably more cost, the Panther and Tiger contributed to delaying the unavoidable end of the war. The comments, made in the following book are based on two things. First, the content of the regulations will be explained. The regulations, however, contain only the bare essentials and in164/258
clude only general statements about the practice—about the "how" of armored operations. By far the greatest portion of the text consists of the knowledge gained that was directly derived from actual experience in operations. That knowledge was collected through hours of discussion with former Panzer soldiers of all ranks, evaluation of combat reports and accounts of personal experiences along with, of course, the personal experience of the author as an armor officer and leader/commander in numerous combat exercises ranging from platoon leadership through command of tank and antitank (Panzerjager) companies and, finally, an armor battalion. In the formation of the post-war German army—the Bundeswehr—the majority of the principles of leadership and employment as practiced in the Wehrmacht were adopted wholesale. That was particularly the case with most of the officers in the 1950's, and even in the 1960's, many of whom had previously served in the Wehrmacht.
Development of german armor tactics Given the great success of German armor formations in World War II, it is surprising that the formation of armor units and the doctrine for their employment did not proceed in a directly linear and purposeful manner. Just as in other countries, the majority of officers did not recognize the promising possibilities of motorization. In spite of isolated significant successes with tanks, they were viewed primarily as support weapons for infantry in France and Great Britain, Only hesitantly were other directions tried (British experimental exercises in 1934 on Salisbury Plain and the formation of two armored divisions in France). In Germany, too, the theoreticians who thought progressively ran up against the massive opposition of traditionalists. Forced to make up with quality for lack of quantity, a more intensive start was already being made with the formation of so-called mobile troops (schnelle Truppen) as early as the formation of the Reichswehr. These mobile troops built on the experience of the cavalry. The first step was the use of motor vehicles for reconnaissance and transport functions rather than weapons carriers. This might seem strange, considering the unhappy German experience with Allied tanks on the Western Front in the First World War. However, many had a false picture of the capabilities of tanks. They were seen as ponderous, mechanically unreliable systems with an extremely limited radius of action that were all too easy to stop when committed against a massed defensive system. Such an evaluation was indeed limited and naive, but it was predominant at the beginning of the Second World War and favored the initial success of the Germans. Although he was progressive in his thinking about many things, the Chief of the General Staff, General Beck, opposed the formation of a so-called motorized combat troop (Kraftfahrkampftruppe). Most theoreticians traced their thinking back to the experience of the First World War. Based on the decrease in significance of cavalry, it was felt that airplanes and tanks could not in any way carry lead to the reintroduction of mobile operational principles. In turning away from the basic principle of "movement," the conduct of operations focused exclusively on the factor of "fire" (effect). It is significant that as early as 1921 the Chief of the Army High Command (Chef der Heeresleitung), General von Seeckt, stated in a memorandum, "Fundamental 'Considerations for the Rebuilding of Our Armed Forces" (Grundlegende Gedanken fiir den Wiederaufbau unserer Wehrma-cht): ". . . that less than ever does the salvation of the weaker lie in rigid defenses, but rather in mobile attack." Paradoxically, in a land that had been thoroughly demilitarized by the victors and was scarcely capable of defending itself, the principles of free-reigning operations and the offensive employment of armor was increasingly being recognized. With this thought, possibilities increased for a numerically inferior but better equipped and mobile operating force. The dreams of the infantry- man, who had been pulverized by artillery in crushing positional warfare during the First War, also played a subliminal roll. It was important to seize the opportunity to penetrate the static elements of the operational thinking of the time! The manifold opposition and hindrances to the formation of such troops were finally overcome in the mid-thirties, when Reichskanzler Hitler personally took an obvious interest in thematter. He, himself, was marked by the trauma of positional warfare and was promulgating expansion165/258
ist ideas. It was especially obvious to him that the armored branch of the service (Panzerwaffe) had the potential to offer an especially effective instrument with which one could wager the step across the borders. That also tipped the balance toward the establishment of armor formations with particular characteristics. In contrast to the armored battalions of other nations, the new armor battalions (Panzer-abteilungen) were seen from the start as capable of carrying out independent operations, rather than just as support for the infantry. Among other things, the essential step in the right direction came in 1935 from a great demonstration and experimental exercise in North Germany near Munster, that was, at times, attended by Hitler in person. The formation of the new Panzerwaffe matched Hitler's political interests. Laughably, a number of generals later attributed their opposition to the mechanization of the army to having recognized this at that time! It was important then for the few creators of the German Panzertruppe to set about forming an effective army with the few resources available and making Germany capable of defending itself. Certainly it cannot be their fault that false operational ideas were taken up in the neighboring countries! (France increasingly became the exception. It had effective tanks and, by the end of the 1930's, had started organizing armored divisions on the German pattern.)
The first three Panzerdivisionen In spite of opposition from most quarters, the Kom-mando der Kraftfahrkampftruppen was given the assignment of organizing three large armored formations (Panzergrofiverbande). This started in 1935 and was, to a certain extent, a large-scale experiment. The 2. Panzerdivision, then in Wiirzburg, was turned over to (at that time) Oberst Guderian, one of the most ardent proponents of an operational Panzerwaffe. Many had the thought that, in this way, he himself would have to see the senselessness of such measures. The path to these organizational measures had already been laid over the course of years of secret activity in the Reichswehr, part of which took place in the late 1920's in the Soviet Union (at the KAMA facility). On 1 November 1933 a training unit was formed at Zossen with the covername of "Kraftfahrlehrkommando" (motor vehicle training command). Within a few months, additional company-sized formations were activated. Soon they were consolidated into battalions and regiments. In the rapid expansion after 1935, the accumulated experience paid off. The new German Panzertruppe could grow from within itself. It was imperative to avoid forming new units from untrained command personnel, as was done in other countries. In Germany that principle is called "Kalben" (calving). The decision to form separate armor formations was not in itself a guarantee of future success. (Many countries had armor formations, after all.) In this connection it is important to note that from the beginning in Germany these formations were capable of operations as combined arms teams. They did not need the external attachment of other formations to do that. Among them were integral motorized riflemen (Sch端tzen) who were initially only transported on trucks. They soon developed into mechanized infantry (Panzerschiitzen) and, in 1942, were given a special branch of service designation (Waffengattung) as "Panzergrenadiere." The Panzerdivi-sion included correspondingly motorized artillery (later the Panzerartillerie), combat engineers (Panzerpioniere) and signals troops (Panzer-nachrichtentruppen). Air defense against aircraft (Flak) was also soon motorized. The heart of the new Panzerdivision was the Panzer-brigade and the Schutzenbrigade. The Panzerbrigade originally included two Panzer-regimenter, each consisting of two Panzerabteilungen (corresponding to an American armored battalion) containing one medium and three light tank companies. The Schutzenbrigade originally contained a motorized Schutzenregiment, a battalion of Kradschutzen (riflemen on motorcycles) and a Panzer-Abwehr-Abteilung (antitank battalion). Divisional troops included a Panzeraufklarungs-abteilung (armored reconnaissance battalion), a motorized artillery battalion within the divisional artillery regiment, a Pionierbataillon and a Nach-richteiiabteilung, as well as logistic formations. The inadequate production of tanks, especially the medium Panzer Ill's and IV's, prevented a uniform outfitting of the units. 166/258
The concept of the Panzerdi-vision was not entirely proven, because three so-called "leichte Divisionen" (light divisions) were also formed. They only included a single Panzerabteilung and, in the Polish campaign, proved to have inadequate striking power. During the pre-war years, the tables of organization and equipment changed relatively often. It would pass beyond the intent of this book to go into the details. At the end of 1938 two additional Panz-erdivisionen and one more leichte Dhision were created. In April of 1959 another two Panzerdivisionen and another leichte Division followed. Starting at that point in time, only a single Panzerregiment was authorized in a Panzer division. The start of the war came in the midst of these organizational measures so that the formation of the 6. through 9. Panzerdivisionen was postponed and two Panzerabteilungen were assigned directly to army districts.
First experience in war In Poland and especially in France it became evident that the brigade organization was too ponderous and the Panzerdivision had to be pared down. The unarmored riflemen were also not powerful enough. The armor-weak Leichte Divisionen were reorganized into Panzerdivisionen immediately after the Polish campaign. Henceforth the Panzerdivisionen included only a single Panzerregiment. With the arrival of the first Schutzenpanzerwagen (SPW) (armored personnel carriers) the first rifle battalion of the Schutzenregiment was equipped with it and became the "gepanzertes Sch端tzen-bataillon" (armored infantry battalion), renamed "Panzergrenadier-battaillon" in 1942. The combat engineers were also given armored vehicles and the artillery and air defense forces received self-propelled mounts (Selbstfahrlafetten).
Armored battle groups As the war continued, antitank defenses increased and it became increasingly important to react more flexibly to developing situations. Large maneuver elements were often not in a position to do that. Combat-ready tanks (at times without concern for what company they belonged to) were assembled into a "gepanzerte Gruppe" (armored group) and reinforced with SPW-Kompanien (armored-personnel carrier companies). These then formed so-called "Panzerkampfgruppen." Panzerpionier and artillery forces were generally assigned to support them. Depending on the situation, the Panzeraufk-larungsabteilung might also be involved. In this case, however, it was frequently employed more in the role of a (light) Panzergrenadierbataillon than for reconnaissance purposes. Divisions that had two Panzerabteilungen could also form two Kampfgruppen, though one of the battalions would have to work with a towed artillery battalion supporting it. This combination of armored forces proved to be the most successful organization of troops. Only the "purebred" combination that was the Panz-erkampfgruppe constituted a team of combined arms. It could work together in ideal fashion due to its armor and comparable operational and tactical mobility. None of the different branches had to exert undue concern for the other or employ it in a situation that endangered it. The non-armored portion of the division served as the reserve, guarded areas or acted as normal positional troops in defense. That often caused logistical problems, since the Schwerpunkt (point of main effort) usually had to be with the Panz-erkampfgruppe. Additional problems arose because no staff for the Kampfgruppe was permanently organized. Instead, it had to be formed by arbitrarily taking people from the parent organization. It would have been more proficient to have a permanent personnel organized for it. Armored battalions were also not given the logistical capacity to operate separately. The organization and equipment of the Panzer-aufklarungsabteilung also did not prove successful. Rather, it left the regiments and battalions lacking their own efficient reconnaissance elements. As for the Panzerjagerabteilung was concerned, it was increasingly proposed to integrate it by companies into the infantry regiments or even into the Panzer-grenadierbataillone, since the antitank battalion was only suitable for limited separate employment anyway.
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The Panzerkampfgruppe as an organization was not officially introduced during the war. Instead existing organizations were improved incrementally, such as by the formation of supply companies. Inadequate to the end were the numbers and the outfitting of the Panzergrenadiere, the latter due to the lack of adequate production of SPW's. Most were only motorized and, in fact, really only infantry, since they had to perform all assignments dismounted.
The panzerbrigade in 1944 The activation of separate Panzerbrigaden was a half-hearted attempt to form streamlined armored maneuver formations (thirteen were planned altogether) . Certainly the intent in forming them was to create organic Panzer-kampfgruppen. The main deficiency, however, was in the totally inadequate logistics elements. The result was that these formations were "out of gas" within a few days. They were insufficiently capable of sustaining themselves as a separate formation.
Reorganization after teh second world war The new Bundeswehr was, it is true, primarily created by former Wehrmacht officers. However, wartime experiences were not always adopted in a consistent fashion. Of course, many aspects appeared again in the training. After a good beginning in 1956, however, much too large and ponderous divisions on the US pattern began to be formed. Introduced again was a situation where the lowest command level that was capable of combat with combined arms was at the level of the brigade, with similarly unwieldy Panzer- or Panzergrenadier-bataillone. During the 1970's there were several reorganizations, such as the formation of a fourth Panzer/Panzergrenadierbataillon in the brigade. Nevertheless, the brigade was increasingly deprived of its logistical independence so that it was increasingly dependant upon the division or even the corps for command and control of combined arms operations. The main reason for that, of course, was primarily the fact that the primary mission at the operational level—given the strategic framework at the time—was the defense of the national borders that were very close at hand. The Panzergrenadiere suffered a lot as a result. The unfortunate separation of the rifle squad from its armored personnel carriers and its commitment to digging into field fortifications was obligatory. Only the tanks were committed in mobile operations, but even they were often cooped up in the context of small battle positions in a stationary role. They assumed the role of mobile bunkers. The primary objective was not the defeat of the enemy but to hold onto terrain. Entire generations of officers matured in that erroneous thought pattern. After the decline of the direct East-West confrontation, it required significant efforts to bring the setting of operational objectives back to Panzer-type basics. There again, as in the 1920's and 1930's, the followers of the "pure theory" were confronted with the narrow-mindedness and provinciality of ignoramuses in operational theory. Nevertheless, in Germany today, as earlier, the tactical/operational fundamentals for the commitment of Panzertruppen are used in a manner similar to the way they crystallized during the Second World War, even if obviously influenced by the present-day technological setting, the essentially greater significance of combat-support requirements and the increased effectiveness of all weapons against armor. After this short historical overview let us have a close look at the German principles of armor warfare. I would like to start with the main types of combat (Gefechtsarten): offensive operations, defensive operations and delaying actions.
Why is the offense the main type of combat operations ? In predominantly static types of combat—security or defense—the tank force only has an advantage in the opening phase, if it blocks the enemy and opens fire by surprise. The longer the battle continues, the more possibilities accrue to the enemy. The tank gives away its position with the first shot, no matter how well it was concealed. Room for movement is primarily to the rear. The attacking enemy, on the other hand, takes the initiative. The enemy accrues all the possibilities that go to the active party, He chooses the location and the time to start the action and his array 168/258
of forces. It follows from the above that stubborn control of a sector of terrain for tanks can only be a prerequisite for the subsequent maneuver-oriented type of combat typical of armor. An enemy who has run into a defensive position often only loses a few leading tanks, rapidly pulls back beyond the range of dangerous fire and quickly gains a good understanding of the situation of the opposing positions. In this phase, the attacker can, without delay, commit the entire array of combat support available to him, including air support. While this may not destroy the enemy, it prevents a withdrawal of forces. At that point, the attacking forces can outflank the defender and deliver the decisive blow at another location. After the first shots, the initiative goes to the aggressively operating attacker. An armor force that remains in a position stays in the role of the one who has to wait for the next blow. The main reason that a few tanks covering the withdrawal of the main forces were so frequently able to stop numerically superior attackers was the declining vigor of the pursuit and the attacker waiting for additional combat support—aircraft, high-angle fire, etc. Decision in battle almost always comes in the attack, the defensive is often only an essential preparation, seldom more than that. The commitment of tanks offensively whenever possible is reflected in the German doctrine for command. In Heeres-Dienstvorschrift (Army Regulation) 470/7, "Die mittlere Panzerkompanie" (The Medium Tank Company) - which was also applicable for the Panzerkampfwagen Tiger—there are no types of combat presented other than attack. In Heeres-Dienstvorschrift 470/10 "Panzerregiment und Panzerabteilung" the ex-tremely brief section on "Verteidigung" (Defense) merely stresses that, after allowing the enemy to approach, it is necessary to immediately counterattack.
Forms of attack The various forms of attack are differentiated into a meeting engagement as advance guard (Vorhut), hasty attack (Sofortangriffe) or deliberate attack (Angriff nach Vorbereitung). An advance guard is committed to a meeting engagement in order to strike an enemy by surprise when he is not yet ready to defend or to take possession of terrain that will be decisive for further conduct of the battle without loss of time. The attack can be in the strength of a reinforced company but, if possible, with the entire battalion. An immediate attack—often done on the initiative of the battalion commander—occurs when the concentration of the follow-on forces cannot be awaited or in order to take advantage of a favorable situation. The result is that the enemy is rapidly engaged by surprise without splitting one's own forces. The attack formation can usually be accomplished with a short halt in the march. If possible, it should be protected from enemy observation and effects of fire. It must take place rapidly in order to deny the enemy time for preparation of his antitank defenses. The higher the level of combat readiness while deploying, the shorter the time needed for the march halt. Surprise encounters with the enemy and conditions of terrain (for example, exiting a defile) can force the start of the attack out of a march column or a narrow combat formation. As soon as the attack by the leading tanks gains room for deployment of those that follow, and the enemy situation and terrain permit, combat formation must be established. The battalion most frequently conducts a hasty attack in the Breitkeil ("V"-formation or inverted wedge). During the attack, covering fire for the further advance of the company must be established. Additionally, the center company moves forward from sector to sector. The continuity between the first and the second elements must not be broken. A deliberate attack is usually directed against a strong, prepared defense. The battalion then has a separate mission or fights within the framework of a armored battle group (gepanzerte Kampfgruppe). Before moving into the assembly area, the approach routes and the area itself must be recon-noitered. They should provide cover against enemy ground and aerial observation. If possible, the assembly area should be able to be reached by wheeled vehicles. In the assembly area the formation organizes itself for the attack, to the extent that space and 169/258
terrain permit. It makes itself ready for combat. All preparations required to execute the attack are carried out. They include: • Thorough reconnaissance of the terrain of the attack • Clearing of barriers and obstacles in front of the enemy battle lines. • Acquisition of all necessary data for carrying out the attack through combat reconnaissance • Establishing contact with the leaders of the combat-support branches supporting and accompanying the attack and • Liaison with the leaders of infantry and rifle formations that are attacking ahead of the tanks The results of reconnaissance by all elements participating in and supporting the attack with regard to terrain, identified nests of enemy resistance—especially'antitank weapons and artillery— are evaluated. Personal briefing of the company commanders and as many subordinate leaders as possible should be carried out in the area of the attack as far possible without betraying the intended attack. Radio silence must be enforced in the assembly area to prevent the enemy from drawing conclusions about an impending attack from radio traffic. It is desirable that the tanks depart the assembly area in combat formation. If the terrain does not permit that, a short halt during the march out will be required even during a deliberate attack.
Prerequisites for the attack There are many causes for the failure of an attack. Frequently the force ratio in itself is a critical disadvantage for the numerically weaker party. There is good reason why the attacker should have a twofold—if possible, threefold—numerical superiority. However, there are other means by which the attacker can make his assault effective. A numerical superiority of the defender can rapidly be neutralized if the attack against his position is closely coordinated with the available means of combat support as well as the operations of neighboring forces. On the one hand, that keeps the enemy down so that aimed fire is impossible and, on the other, prevents the enemy from massing fire. The essential objective in attack—besides the destruction of as many targets as possible—is to piecemeal the enemy, eliminate his combat support elements and minimize his command and control capability. Among other things, disruption of command and control results from maintaining constant pressure, multi-directional operations, concealment, disruption of communications links and use of smoke. It is so advantageous to the attacker to have the initiative on his own side that he must be concerned about maintaining that advantage. Many attacks fail terribly in the initial phase because decisive mistakes have been made. These can include: • Incorrect choice of terrain (and timing) • Inadequate knowledge of the enemy situation • Ineffective or inadequate coordination of the support elements and • Incorrect commitment of forces. Arrival in the assembly area must be as quiet as possible (low engine rpm). Camouflage against ground and aerial observation is especially important. Track patterns, as created by tracked vehicle turning movements, must be removed to conceal signs of the presence of tanks from aerial observation. Traces of movement must be concealed or intentionally point back out of the area. As a rule, the area is reconnoitered by the reconnaissance platoon, the route marked with signs and the places for individual tanks indicated with unit-prepared signs (for example, turret numbers or tables of numbers in different platoon colors). The tanks drive to their places and back in, if possible under trees. The turret is traversed to the side so the barrel does not stick out into the way and the driver and radio operator can conveniently climb out through their hatches. The track marks are removed and the tank concealed with natural vegetation or a net. Each tank immediately provides its own security. The platoon leader checks out his sector and coordinates the security measures. Anti-aircraft spotters are assigned. If the situation allows, individual machine guns are dismounted and 170/258
used as anti-aircraft defense. The sentinels and air-defense lookouts give the alarm through calls and signals or, if need be, by opening fire or using flare-pistols. They should all be relieved every two hours; sooner if it is cold. All tank crews are to have their individual weapons on them and steel helmets available when they dismount in the event of a surprise artillery barrage. A series of logistical measures are conducted in the assembly area and the required tactical orders are given. All vehicles are completely topped off and supplied with ammunition. To accomplish that, the supply vehicles drive to a central point for the platoon or company or unload the supplies for each tank (cans, barrels, boxes, etc.) at the side of the road. The supply vehicles then retrace their route and pick up the empty containers. Possible technical/mechanical deficiencies are corrected with the help of contact teams from the maintenance personnel. The maintenance status is checked. The crews conduct maintenanace prior to going into action. The assembly area should be far enough from the main line of battle (Hauptkampflinie = HKL) so as to be beyond the range of enemy artillery. Usually it is located in a, wooded area with a road network in it. The tanks are drawn up along both sides of the road network so they can move out again without delay. A few tanks reconnoiter alert positions on the edge of the woods so they can be occupied in the event the assembly area is attacked. The crews rest, either on the rear deck of the tank or in a foxhole under the vehicle. During the halt the leaders must reconnoiter the route to the main lines and coordinate with the troops holding the positions in the line. Link up with the supporting elements takes place in the assembly area. Their leaders also take part in all reconnaissance and issuing of orders. The routes to the line of departure (Ablau-flinie) must be reconnoitered and the precise march time to reach it noted.
The start of the attack In the initial phase of the attack the organization is still widely dispersed, allowing as many gun tubes as possible to engage the enemy at any given time. Combat reconnaissance has gone ahead and finds obstacles as well as the forward edge of the enemy lines, if that has not already been done by dismounted patrols earlier It is extremely important during this critical phase of the attack that the enemy is prevented from aimed fire of his weapons through indirect fire of friendly forces, either in the form of preparatory fires or on-call ones. Forward observers (Vorgeschobene Beobachter) in their SPW's should be positioned far enough forward in the organization tnat, driving from one observation point to the next, they can maintain continuous observation of the battlefield. If possible, each lead company should be directed to coordinate with a forward observer. The tactical leaders call for artillery support. The permission to fire is obtained from the commander of the formation (Gefechtsverband: e.g., battalion or regiment). In general, the foremost units have the mission of rapidly thrusting through the depth of the enemy main lines and destroying the enemy artillery. The follow-on tanks of the second echelon fight in close cooperation with their own infantry, overcome the enemy infantry and those heavy weapons that were not destroyed by the first echelon. In this fashion the kind of massing that prevents the attack from gaining ground is avoided. After successfully braking through, the assault is to be carried forward into the enemy rear area. That is the fastest and surest method of breaking enemy resistance. After the objectives of the attack have been attained, the commander must immediately reorganize the battalion as required for the next operation. The battalion must be continually prepared to parry enemy counterattacks.
Course of the attack The attack must proceed strictly according to the most important fundamental of armor commitment: fire and movement (Feuer und Bewegung). If the attack rapidly gains ground, the tank platoons move as a unit and are covered by other platoons. Fire and movement is coordi-
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nated within the company by the company commander. The battalion commander does this on his level. The battalion commander, however, concentrates less on controlling the fire of his tanks and more on steering the maneuver of the companies and requesting the fire support of the artillery. The coordination of the movement within the company goes more deeply into detail than at battalion level and concerns itself with the movement of platoons and individual tanks. The company commander gives linear as well as directional orientations. A readily identifiable terrain feature on the horizon gives the approximate direction. That point can be at the limit of visual acquiring range. Check points should be given out for the sector of terrain that will be traversed to that point. They should be chosen in a way that they are close enough that the entire actual route to be driven is visible. Regarding linear direction, the company commander directs the platoon that is in the lead to the next position from which it can cover the movement of the following elements. The next platoon or the following platoons move even with the covering platoon or pass the tanks that are providing cover there. That form of advance is referred to as raupenartig (caterpillar-like) when the elements move even with one another or uberschlagend (leapfrog) when they advance past one another. The process is steadily repeated. The rule of thumb for a "leap": half the effective distance of the fire (Hauptkampfentfernung). That is important, since effective fire by the tanks in position cannot be guaranteed when the forward tanks are beyond firing range. The caterpillar method is used in the face of strong enemy resistance in order to bring better-aimed fire on the enemy. A leapfrog technique covers terrain considerably faster but the moving tanks are forced to fire from the move. The leapfrog technique requires no further orders during the process. The platoon that is covering follows immediately when the tanks that are in front of it are in position. Within the context of the battalion, the orientation is almost entirely directional, with less use of specific axes of advance. More of the emphasis is on sectors of terrain to be taken with time phasing and follow-on assignments. For example: "One o'clock, 3000 (meters), corn field, 3rd Company proceeds to a position at western edge, engaging town beyond it. 2nd Company then moves past on the left to the woods, position 1000 (meters) southwest of the woods facing west. Cover 1st Company closing up to the position. 3rd Company, move out now! Forward Observer, immediate suppressive fires on town now! Panzergrenadier company follows right behind 3rd Company." Linear directional assignments at the company level are the exception. After reconnoitering the new area of operations, terrain features should be given nicknames (a so-called "Gelandetaufe" or christening of the terrain) to avoid the necessity for excessively wordy descriptions of terrain or the giving of map locations.
Meeting engagement (begegnungsgefecht) If the tank company meets the enemy unexpectedly while marching or advancing while deployed, and the enemy is similarly on the move, the leading unit of the force must open fire immediately, regardless or whether it is stationary or on the move. The immediate result will be that the: • Enemy will be brought to a halt as a result of the surprise opening of fire, • Enemy will suffer the highest possible losses, and • Position already reached will be held or, depending on enemy strength, more favorable positions will be gained. After opening fire separately, the platoon leaders and company commanders immediately take over fire control, allocate targets and assign positions. It may also be necessary to pull back to positions further to the rear if that is the only way that the tanks can avoid superior enemy fire and carry out the conduct of fire successfully. As a result of the rapid report (s) of the platoon leader with respect to location, nature and strength of the identified enemy, the company commander will get his first overview of the situation. The company commander must reinforce the fire as quickly as possible with the other units of the company in order to: 172/258
• Take advantage of the surprise and • Throw back the enemy while he is still at an operational disadvantage and before he has a chance to reinforce himself. In an initial situation report to the battalion, the company commander reports: • Type and strength of enemy • Disposition and • Presumable intention (s) of the identified enemy. If the enemy forces are successfully defeated then local zone reconnaissance is carried out and movement resumed. If the enemy turns out to be superior in strength, then the firefight should be carried on from favorable positions so that: • Further advance of the enemy is stopped • Maximum losses are exacted from the enemy and • Time is gained for the battalion to take further actions. It may be also necessary to move back somewhat to more favorable positions. Regardless of the arrival of his own forces, the tactical commander should rapidly take advantage of any opportunity. He must not lose sight of his mission nor of the intent of the higher command.
Attacks at night or in conditions of limited visibility Offensive operations in fog or darkness can be necessary if it serves to destroy an already shaken enemy and cause him to disintegrate completely. Within the company, intervals and distances between vehicles need to be limited so that visual contact can be maintained between tanks. Direction must be controlled by the gyrocompass. It will simplify orientation if the route to the objective involves clearly recognizable routes and terrain. In fog, dusk or darkness, the company can only conduct the attack from terrain sector to sector in order to maintain the cohesion of the force on a continuous basis. Signal flares, parachute flares from aircraft or haystacks set on fire by gunfire will assist the tanks in locating the objective. When driving through artificial smoke one must be careful since the tanks offer an especially good target to the enemy after breaking out of the wall of smoke. Therefore it is important to rapidly speed up on leaving the cloud and increase the distances between vehicles.
Attacks across water obstacles In an assault crossing of a river the predominant mission of the tanks is to provide covering fire for the crossing and to then assume the attack on the other side of the river for the force that has already made the crossing. The individual platoons need to occupy semi-concealed positions on the near side of the river so they can quickly lay down concentrated fire on nests of enemy resistance. Rapid changes of position are required to deny the enemy on the far bank time for effective countermeasures against the individual tanks.
Breaching obstacles Mine obstacles are often only recognized after the lead tank has driven onto the mines. In that case it is important to prevent additional tanks from doing the same. For that purpose every radio-equipped vehicle, upon noticing the stopping of a friendly tank by mines, should broadcast: "Mines!—Halt!— Mines!—Halt!—Mines!—Halt!" followed by description of the location. Forward movement is then stopped for a time. The lead vehicles, which may already have entered the minefield, back up in their own tracks. The company commander reports to the battalion and receives orders from it for assembly to the rear or movement in another direction. If enemy antitank defenses come into action at the same time that the minefield is encountered, the fire must immediately be returned and, if available, the lead tanks lay down smoke. After the extent of the minefield has been determined or other possibilities for avoidance of the mines or other obstacles has been reconnoitered, they should be bypassed. Where that is not 173/258
possible, infantry must take the obstacle and engineers clear and mark a path. In the meantime, the tanks cover the obstacle from covered positions.
Pursuit If the enemy withdraws, then there must be indefatigable pursuit, even at night, to bring about complete dissolution and destruction. Only shortage of fuel and ammunition may temporarily bring a halt to the forward movement. Effective pursuit takes advantage of the success of the attack and makes the following fighting easier. Correctly executed, it causes particularly severe losses to the enemy and prevents him from reorganizing and rapidly going over to the defense. In order to carry out the pursuit on a broad front or allow commitment of units in encircling movement while pursuing (iiberholende Verfolgung), Kampfgruppen are frequently formed. The tanks will, as a rule, be committed in advance of the other forces. It is especially important to maintain cohesion of forces during pursuit. If the enemy resistance stiffens, the forces must be assembled again for renewed attack. Special emphasis is placed on maintenance of communications. There must be extensive reports over the area covered and cases where beaten enemy forces have been bypassed. If the pursuit is continued at night, the pursuing elements usually form up along the road network. It can be necessary to continue the pursuit in short bounds, terrain feature by terrain feature. If the pursuit is halted during the night, the units rest, where possible, behind sectors that are defensible against tanks. The tanks must be positioned so they can fire in all directions without any gaps (forming an Igel or hedgehog). The weakest armored vehicles and the wheeled vehicles are placed in the center. Patrols on foot take over the close security and, on an agreed signal, the tanks promptly deliver defensive fire.
Actions at the objective Until the infantry closes up, it is often necessary for a limited time after the objective of the attack has been reached for the armored formation to defend it. In such a case the mass of the armor should be pulled back and use cover in a dispersed formation as protection from the effects of enemy artillery. When the enemy attacks, it then occupies its battle positions. The unit protects itself against enemy surprise attack by means of careful combat reconnaissance, conducted in terrain where enemy observation is poor. Enemy reconnaissance is prevented by fire from individual tanks with long-range weapons. The tanks frequently change their positions. If the enemy attacks, he must be held down by concentrated, rapidly initiated fire in order to prevent the lines from becoming intermeshed. The tanks that have been held in reserve should counterattack, preferably against the enemy's flank.
Issuing orders According to Heeres-Dienstvorschrift 470/7, the order for the attack must include: • Enemy Situation • Friendly Situation • Neighboring Friendly Forces • Battalion (regimental) Intent • Mission Objective • Organization of the battalion (company) • Battalion (company) mission • Mission for subordinate elements (e.g., platoons) • Coordinating instructions for supporting elements, liaison requirements, unit boundaries and axes of advance • Information on the terrain and obstacles • Assignments for the combat trains (Gefecht-stroB) and wheeled vehicles, the maintenance 174/258
section (I-Gruppe or Instandsetzungs-Gruppe) and the medical personnel (S-Trupp or Sanitatstrupp) • Signal Instructions (Nachrichtenverbindungen) • Stofilinie (see explanation below), • Location of the commander A hasty attack is often carried out spontaneously to take advantage of a favorable opportunity with little time for extensive issuing of orders. It is different in a deliberate attack where a painstakingly detailed order is necessary to avoid serious friction in the critical initial phase, where loss of surprise to the enemy can occur or forces or combat support are dissipated. Critical situations that can arise at the start of the attack include: • Delays in the approach • Commitment of forces in an uncoordinated fashion and • Important reconnaissance information missing. Thus the issuing of a warning or preparatory order assumes an essential significance. In the first step, the commanding officer who orders the attack must evaluate the terrain. To the extent that observation is possible he does this by personally examining the terrain. Additionally, he make's use of available reconnaissance results and aerial reconnaissance. Careful map study is critical. The more detailed the map scale the better. The large-scale maps that are used at the division and army level are unsuitable for planning action at the level of the reinforced battalion and below. The smallest scale map of the Wehrmacht was normally 1:100,000. That scale offered sufficient map detail. Wherever possible, however, smaller scales were preferred, and constant use was made of captured material or automobile road atlases (for example, in the Western Campaign in 1940). At the company level and below maps at a scale of 1:50,000 or less are desirable. Map studies for the attack essentially concentrate on two areas: 1. What avenues favorable for movement lie in front of the attack formation? 2. Where do terrain features offer the enemy favorable opportunities for defense and creation of obstacles? In that connection it is necessary to realize that the enemy also evaluates the terrain and acts accordingly so as to control exactly those avenues that are favorable for movement. For that reason it is often practical to also include in operational planning sectors of terrain that are less than ideal for movement. It is important for the attacker that he meets the enemy in a place where the attacker has the advantage. For the first phase it is important to specify the movements and routes as precisely as possible and to figure out operational alternatives to deal with possible contingencies. The farther one goes into the depth of the enemy's positions, the more flexible the planning of the operation must be. Otherwise, one falls into the mistake of making plans in advance that are based, to a large extent, on wishes and hopes. When the inevitable problems then arise, one can only redirect the action with time consuming new orders. For that reason German armor tactics almost never included the rigid combat sectors or the phase lines that were so beloved by the Allies. Such compartmentalized thinking conceals a whole series of problems: those units that arrive early at the phase-line have to wait for those that are slower and those whose boundaries are constricted can only move forward. The consequence of all that is a slower unfolding of the attack and loss of the ability to take advantage of favorable opportunities. Ifi Germany, on the other hand, objectives are given out and axes of attack (Angriffsachsen) are assigned. An objective (Angriffsziel) is assigned for every attack. The distance to the objective depends on the level of command. At brigade or higher level, the distances are generally greater than 25 kilometers. For the reinforced battalion, the distances are generally between 15 and 25 kilometers. The tactical commander determines the intermediate objectives (Zwischenziele). That means that the battalion can have an attack objective that is an intermediate division or corps objective. The subsequent objectives, depending on the circumstances, may then be attacked by the following forces. The determination of the objectives is not based on the enemy but normally on the 175/258
terrain! A battalion sets intermediate objectives approximately every 5 to 10 kilometers. Companies only set separate objectives when so ordered. Axes of attack (Angriffsachsen) are set up for lateral coordination. If possible, they are orientated in the terrain on easily identifiable features such as highways, railroads, rivers and the like. In establishing axes of attack the lowest level of command is usually the battalion. The formation attacks astride those axes (also called "Mittellinie" or centerline). That significantly simplifies combat organization but, at the same time, allows great freedom to the units. The great advantage of that method of controlling the attack is that, in the event that lateral movements are forced by circumstances, every commander constantly knows the direction he must revert to. Whether to hold up for all the others at the objective or an intermediate objective depends on pressure from the enemy. It is often sufficient to leave elements there in order to simplify closing up and to avoid breaking contact to the rear. The more uncertain the situation regarding the enemy, the better it is to have forces echeloned to the rear. In that case, if the leading element suddenly runs into something, it is easier to react because forces can be committed without delay or a Schwerpunkt can be formed by concentration of forces. If one is too broadly deployed in that situation when contact is made with the enemy everything is possibly engaged and the relief of individual elements is difficult. In addition, units advancing further to the rear help prevent the enemy from cutting off the lead elements. Therefore it is indispensable in the attack to constantly have combat patrols out to the flanks capable of promptly reporting enemy counterattacks. If the tactical commander has evaluated maps, terrain and data from reconnaissance, he then gives the orders for the attack, preferably where there is a view of the terrain. The order includes clear reconnaissance assignments for the approach phase ("Anmarsch"). For linear coordination a so-called line of departure ("Ablauflinie") is given. The attacking formation must assume its combat formation by the time it reaches the line of departure. In accordance with higher levels of command, the attack order also contains missions for reconnaissance. Combat reconnaissance echeloned forward and, once the attack has begun, unceasing, is a decisive prerequisite to a successful attack. However, in this regard, it must be kept in mind that combat patrols that are set in march prior to the beginning of the attack alert the enemy. In general, wheeled or dismounted patrols are preferred. As a rule they remain at their reconnaissance objectives. They stay unnoticed, report and wait for their own troops to close up. If speed is desired, a warning order for the attack is issued to the battalion or company in advance. That creates an advantage, as the crews have sufficient time to prepare the tanks while the leaders reconnoiter. After the orders for the attack have been issued by the battalion commander to the company commanders (and, if possible, also to the platoon leaders), they reconnoiter the route from the line of departure back to the assembly area on foot or with wheeled vehicles. So far as is possible, these routes are marked. Each leader works out the time required to cover that distance based on the conditions of the route and terrain. Correspondingly, he determines the starting time for the individual platoon. Thus, it may be that the more distant platoons have to start their approach march at an earlier time. For individual elements, halts in the march may also be practical in order to ensure the appointed march sequence or to better execute changes in subordination. This has the advantage of avoiding the disturbance caused when reinforcement forces assigned to battalions and companies join up in the area just before the beginning of the attack. In every case all leaders establish personal contact with each other and discuss the task organization of their commands. The routes for the approach must be established in such fashion that the combat organization may be assumed as soon as possible to avoid being disturbed by enemy counter movements. After completion of their reconnaissance, the company commanders report the results, clarify open questions and make final requests for changes. They then assemble their platoon leaders, who have checked the preparations of their crews and performed route reconnaissance in the meantime. The company commander then issues his company order for the attack. In so doing, he makes clear the contribution the company makes to the overall operation of the battalion. Specifically, he explains the interaction of the forces and the respective interdependencies. That 176/258
is important so that during the attack each tank commander is clear as to why certain friendly forces are in front of him or beside him and what missions they have. If that is neglected then it is very easy to falsely evaluate the situation. After receiving the company orders for the attack, the platoon leaders assemble all the crews and give them their platoon orders. At the company and platoon level it is desirable when issuing the order to use sketches or a so-called sand table. Movements can be shown using those methods more clearly than on maps that have too large a scale. In concluding, each platoon leader determines when all preparations must be completed. In all, three points in time define the attack for the tank crew. • Start of the attack (Angriffsbeginn): That is the time the organization must cross the line of departure and combat-support activities must be initiated or finished. • Move-out Time (Antreten): The individual departure time for the platoon. • Start engines {Motoren an): The time all tanks are ready to move out and, if necessary, the engine can be started by external means (for example, at low temperatures). The tank moves up to the route and is ready to takes its place in the column. At this phase engine noise is critical because it can alert the enemy. Therefore artillery fire is often deliberately used to mask the engine noise.
Combat support (kampfunterstersutzung) Generally, an essential prerequisite for the success of an attack is the effective coordination of the combat support. An enemy in prepared defenses has many possibilities to deny the attacker a rapid advance. Reinforcement of the terrain, barriers and obstacles are also effective against armored vehicles. Slight damage to the running gear from the explosion of a mine can leave the agile, fearsome tank an immobile heap of steel, with only limited means for self defense. Obstacles are often used by the enemy to delay or even break the momentum of the assault or to turn it into a terrain sector that favors the defender. It is a basic principle that obstacles are covered by fire. It is an unalterable rule, therefore, that engineers be committed to clear paths for the attack or, in an uncertain situation, to have them readily available far forward. Obstacles and denies must often first be captured or opened up by infantry. Since any commitment of engineers and infantry forces is extremely time consuming, it calls for preplanned coordination. The primary objective must be to prevent stationary tanks from being forced into inactivity and turn into targets on a range. When approaching or encountering obstacles and enemy in built-up positions, it becomes necessary to pin down the enemy through the use of indirect fire (artillery or mortar) for a period of time. This may not destroy the enemy but at least prevents him from employing weapons with aimed fire. For that purpose, and to the extent that the terrain is within observation, target reference points (Zielpunkte) are surveyed before the start of the attack and respectively assigned as fire missions (Feuerauftrage). Fire missions are executed most rapidly with the help of the forward observers who can be reached by radio and direct the fire. Where several artillery units are committed, then one observer controls the fire of several batteries.
Command and control (fuhrung) The art of armored fighting is demonstrated whenever a leader at any level conducts an attack. At the preliminary issuing of orders he has, as a rule, sufficient time so that if others draw his attention to anything that has been forgotten, he can still correct the deficiency. All of that is different when an attack is underway. How does the process of command and control work during the attack? The first comparison is with fencing or boxing. Like those combatants, the armor commander ponders and lunges, weighs the prospects and makes the venture. He must choose the right moment to strike without rashly neglecting his cover. In an attacking armor formation it is usually the company that is used for the individual blows, rarely the platoon. At times an entire battalion may be massed. Therefore it is usually the commander of a (reinforced) battalion who is responsible for the success of an attack.
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Once the attack has begun, he must continually evaluate the situation with respect to the terrain in order to be able to issue timely and prescient orders. He accomplishes that with his own observations, the results of ongoing reconnaissance as well as analyzing reports from his company commanders. Almost without exception, the decision to open fire is made at the company or platoon level. Those officers rely on the fact that at the proper time they will be given the necessary missions and orders for follow-on activities. In the midst of this network of relationships one must be clearly aware that different processes must mesh at the same time and that there are various levels of responsibility. If a commander busies himself (too long) with subordinate tasks that would better be left to others, he neglects his primary mission. Subordinates who send reports and requests by radio often are unable to evaluate how urgent their concern really is. A flood of impressions constantly pours in to the higher commander which he has to classify with the speed of thought as to their importance. Since every commander simultaneously receives information on two or even three radio nets, makes his own observations and has to think several steps ahead, there is always the problem of what is most important task at any given time. Therefore, it is important to be rapid and precise, to make use of others and not to forget matters later that have been deferred. The interests of the commander's superiors compete with what the individual commander is currently doing. How can that be? The tactical commander is, in large measure, dependent on precise and, above all, timely reports for a correct evaluation of the situation, especially if he cannot himself observe the terrain. However, for the commander who is directly in a firefight with the enemy, transmission of reports is (at that very moment) the most unimportant thing in the entire world. Also, information as to the force requirements for the next assault is only marginal to his interests. These conflicting and contradictory interests need to be brought into harmony. How does that happen? The information that arrives on the radio nets must be received and processed by assistants. That consists of simple documentation on the one hand, but it also involves filtering according to importance. That gave an automatic advantage to the five-man tank crew with a separate radio operator. However, based on their tactical background, most of the radio operators were only in a position to receive messages. Often the significance of the message for the operation was not clear to them. The commander, accordingly, needs specially qualified help independent of the authorized organization of the command group (Ftihrungsgruppe). At the company level it is the company headquarters section leader (Kompanietruppfuhrer) who provides that help. He is either located in a second tank or replaces the radio operator or the loader in the command tank. The battalion commander requires just that kind of help in his immediate vicinity; he also requires a command post. In his own or in a neighboring tank he has an Ordonnanzoffizier (similar to an aide-de-camp for a general officer). In the battalion command post is the communications officer (Nachrichtenoffizier). In addition, all of the other crew members in the command tank are, as a rule, experienced noncommissioned officers who do not need continual instructions. Such assistants to the commander keep him free to devote his attention to his primary duties. Incoming reports will be accumulated and held, and then passed on if it is necessary or when the commander is ready to deal with them. Since the soldiers of the command post continually listen to the communications on the battalion command net and follow along with the movements on the map, they are pretty well informed regarding the situation. The officer-in-charge at the command post routinely keeps the higher command current on how the situation is developing. He pays close attention when the higher commander queries the battalion commander on the radio to see whether the battalion commander replies promptly. If he does not, then the officer assumes that he is tied up with more important things. He then takes the initiative and replies instead. If the message is not time critical, he coordinates a return call. If the arriving reports or orders are important, he immediately brings them to the commander's attention. Generally that can only be accomplished by calling back to someone riding in the same tank with the commander. 178/258
This delicate filigreed system collapses of course if the command tank is knocked out. On those grounds, the choice of location or movement route gains great significance. In that instance the commander stands in an apparent contradiction to the fundamental precept of "Lead from the front." Leading from the front does not mean that the commander is continually and always in front. Completely aside fr.om threats from the enemy, this is to be avoided because the commander would not be able to have situational awareness of his own forces. This principle is best made clear by its opposite. Some battalion commanders chose to command from a command post vehicle (Gefechtsstand-fahrzeug), a variant of a SPW (Sd. Kfz. 251), which offered a more comfortable environment. A command post vehicle eliminated the need to fold maps up into an impossibly small piece and the assistants could switch the various radio nets over to the commander (for example, by hand signal). While on the move the commander is not constricted, etc. Aside from the fact that the command post has claimed the use of an important vehicle, the result of such a decision is that the commander is forced to drive significantly farther from his troops. Only the tank offers enough protection to allow the commander to be far enough forward during intense contact with the enemy. Unless he has visual contact with his forward most forces, he lacks contact with the ongoing fighting. He can no longer give far-sighted orders, is exclusively dependent on more or less imprecise reports for his understanding of the enemy situation and is too late in seeing the terrain. Worse yet, all the soldiers know that the "Old Man" is most concerned about his own safety. Finally, one cannot lead and motivate from the rear; one can only "administer" the fight. It is necessary to be quite clear about the fact that command in combat is "organized chaos." In spite of the enemy, inclement weather, one's own losses, desperate calls on the radio and, at times, ignorance of the situation, the commander must force himself to maintain his situational awareness and remain calm. If he fails, then he leaves his troops in the lurch. Such composure cannot be imparted in training, nor can it be expected of everyone in every situation. Certain important fundamental principles must be observed. First of all, it is essential that all soldiers at every level have the highest possible state of training so that they can perform the duties of their position in the crew in their sleep. The leaders must have learned to formulate reports and orders according to certain formats. At first those formats may seem rigid and formulaic, but in situations of anxiety and stress they mean sureness in operation. As a result, radio reports—-just as with movement or fire commands—must regularly follow one and the same format: 1. Enemy (with location/direction specified), 2. Friendly situation/decision, 3. Action being executed/follow-on measures/ requests. If every commander at every level knows this in his sleep, he will also use it in combat and run no danger of being longwinded or forgetting something important. Only that way is it guaranteed that maximum time remains for the actual process of commanding, the constant evaluation of the situation and the making of (hopefully correct) decisions. The commander must always wait for the expedient moment to give out tasks and orders so as to assure the continuous flow of movement. As explained earlier, only the first phase of the attack can be planned in advance, if for no other reason than the ability to observe the terrain. Whenever the terrain features change, the movements must immediately be coordinated anew. The leaders rapidly evaluate the terrain with respect to its suitability for movement. In a short radio message he sets the route for the attack's continuation, in which he lays down new points of direction and lines of movement for the companies. In such fashion he ensures that even if something prevents issuance of orders (such as failure of radio communications), everyone knows how to continue. That also takes place in more detailed fashion at the company level. If directions and routes are known, then each unit can concentrate on objectives and obstacles. Upon running into enemy positions, the tactical leaders then have the job of coordinating the fires of his own unit and of the supporting artillery and assessing whether he can make further progress in sector with available forces. The company commander builds Schwerpunkte, as a 179/258
rule, with orders distributing fires (for example, supporting an adjoining platoon). The battalion commander weights the strength of an attack that has lost momentum when, for example, he commits a previously unengaged company or when he asks for indirect fire support. If the frontal attack does not make rapid progress, he then commits forces that are not tied down to make an enveloping movement. Limited delays and detours must be taken in stride, if, in the process, frontal advances over terrain without cover can be avoided. In any case, a ruthless penetration of enemy positions in high gear is recommended. Lengthy delays or a hesitant advance increase the probability that the enemy will be able to engage targets and transfer forces. The company commander makes sure that his forces do not bunch up after meeting the enemy. If a rapid forward thrust is not possible, or if elements of the company run into obstacles, the company commander checks out the possibilities of bypassing them. He also checks whether it will be probable that the attack can be renewed. He is frugal with time in dealing with problems and, when the need arises, he can react swiftly. If the enemy shows signs of softening, he does not wait for orders, but rather advances on his own initiative. He merely reports what is happening and goes on. Concerning the commitment of Panzergrenadiere and engineers, he keeps in mind that using them costs time. Bypassing an obstacle is therefore absolutely preferable to its elimination. However, if obstacles must be cleared, he suppresses the enemy security. The engineers prepare several passages, if possible. If that is not successful and the tank company has to traverse the obstacle at a single location, then the element that advances first thrusts far enough forward so that it can cover the obstacle from a favorable position and ward off counterattacks on it. When considering a bypass, consideration must be made that the enemy may want you to take precisely that route. Therefore circumspection is advised. Passages should be marked for forces that are following and security elements remain on site when so ordered. Centers of enemy resistance and enemy in prepared positions must not halt the momentum of the attack for the main body of the formation. If necessary, weak elements remain on site until follow-on forces close up. Those forces then seek to regain contact with their parent element as soon as possible. Experience shows that enemy forces that have been bypassed or surrounded frequently become demoralized and surrender or, at the least, can be controlled with little expenditure of resources. On the way to the attack objective the battalion commander must determine whether to clear out enemy positions completely or advance forward undeterred. The cohesiveness of the command and control of operations at the division level is decisive. In most cases command and control is coordinated from the higher command level. The paramount maxims must constantly be: Maintain the momentum of the attack; do not allow the attack to be diverted from its direction; and, take the objective with maximum combat power. The tank's best protection is movement; enemy countermeasures frequently come too late or strike thin air.
Transition to the next operation When the objective of the attack has been taken, it is important to take advantage of the success. If offensive operations are stopped too abruptly, they may often put the enemy, who has only been struck by a blow, in a situation where he can react effectively. Therefore, it is important to plan follow-on operations. If the attack was merely to gain breathing room for one's own troops, then the attack formation must be pulled back if the situation calls for it in such fashion that it cannot be cut off. If contact has been lost, then the pullback must be conducted as a renewed attack. If the attacker has the overall operational initiative, then it is imperative to take advantage of the success. The enemy must not be allowed to rest. Otherwise he may be capable of putting together an effective defense. In order to keep the enemy on the run, forces echeloned further to the rear should be put into the fight and carry on the attack, since they have not yet been used and are still fully supplied with ammunition. The formation that has carried the attack to that point reorganizes and resupplies itself. It occupies its attack objective in order to pin the enemy and cover the area. Upon receiving further orders, it follows the lead formation and takes on subsequent missions, such as guarding flanks, destroying enemy forces that have been outflanked or being re-integrated into the organization of the attack. 180/258
Logistics With regard to logistics, the attack is the most demanding form of combat. The consumption of ammunition and fuel is high. Great distances yawn between the attacking forces and their own ti'oops and movement is through territory that is threatened by the enemy. In the defense one expects high expenditure of ammunition and can build up corresponding reserves and conceal them. Engineer supplies for construction of obstacles and barriers can be placed at the ready in adequate quantity and with less time pressure. Additional artillery ammunition can be held in reserve in firing positions. None of that is possible in the attack. The only simpler logistical operation is the recovery of out-of-action vehicles that have been left behind. Attempting to recover vehicles during a delaying operation or a withdrawal is obviously much more difficult. In armored combat logistical planning is of paramount importance and should be viewed as having a priority equivalent to planning the tactical commitment. In light of the short operating range of the vehicles, fuel supply is especially difficult. It is often necessary to have a brief refueling halt after completion of the approach march to the line of departure immediately before the attack. Considering the threat posed by artillery, that is anything but an easy decision! During the course of the attack, refueling must come at timely intervals before consumption reduces vehicular fuel supplies to a level where movements have to be stopped. One strives to refuel when about 50 percent of the on-board fuel has been consumed. That was frequently possible during the night, since movements were generally halted in unknown territory during the hours of darkness. The company leaders need to report prompdy and establish contact points on the ground for rendezvous with supply vehicles. After having made the link up they should remain in the combat zone no longer than necessary and must be sent back immediately. Since the distance to the supply points are often great, the practice of partially emptying and then hanging onto supply vehicles for later availability would be fatal. The drivers of the supply vehicles have a hard time during offensive operations. Often they are on the road day in and day out and sleep is only possible for a few hours during the drive when the assistant driver takes the wheel. Supply of the leading formations is especially critical. Since those formations have to operate without contact with the following troops, they have to integrate their logistical vehicles in their own organization and continuously protect them against enemy action with combat vehicles. Any opportunity to drain the tanks of broken-down friendly vehicles or abandoned enemy vehicles and refuel from them must be used. Phased supply from the air may also be used. In Belgium and northern France, Panzergruppe Kleist was only able to advance so rapidly in 1940 because the local network of gas stations was well established.
Hitler's Quest for Oil: the Impact of Economic Considerations on Military Strategy, 1941-42 When asked by his Allied captors in 1945 to what extent German military strategy had been influenced at various stages by economic considerations, Albert Speer, Hitler's outstanding Armaments Minister, replied that in the case of Operation BARBAROSSA the need for oil was certainly a prime motive.' Indeed, even during the initial discussions of his plan to invade the Soviet Union, Hitler stressed the absolute necessity of seizing key oilfields, particularly those in the Caucasus region, which accounted for around 90 per cent of all oil produced in the Soviet Union. For example, during a war conference at the Berghof on 31 July 1940, Hitler revealed to high-ranking commanders his intention to shatter Russia 'to its roots with one blowÂť After achieving the 'destruction of Russian manpower', he explained, the German Army must drive on towards the Baku oilfield, by far the richest of those in the Caucasus and one of the most productive in the world. Despite Hitler's optimism, the 1941 campaign - which opened along a 2,000 km front and involved 148 combat divisions - failed to shatter Russia 'to its roots with one blow'. Consequently, it failed to bring the huge oil region of the Caucasus under German control. After reverses in the winter of 1941/42, it was no longer possible for the Wehrmacht to undertake wide-ranging offensives along the entire front, by then over 2,500 km in length. The summer campaign of 1942, although still immense, was necessarily less ambitious. It opened along a front of around 725 181/258
km, and involved 68 German and 25 allied combat divisions. Soviet oil remained a major attraction for Hitler. The offensive's objectives were to destroy the main Russian forces between the Donets and the Don river, capture the crossings into the mountainous Caucasus region and then deliver the rich oilfields into German hands. The perceived importance of these oilfields to the German economy, and hence the war effort, cannot be overstated. On 1 June 1942, four weeks to the day before the summer campaign began, Hitler told the assembled senior officers of Army Group South that 'If I do not get the oil of Maikop and Grozny then I must end this war'. The purpose of this study is not to provide a narrative description of the planning of the 1942 campaign, but, rather, to reveal the central role which economic considerations played in the planning of that ill-fated endeavour. In the following pages I shall appraise Hitler's preoccupation with the Caucasus region and its oilfields, and describe how Germany's own oil situation in the first two years of the war led him to believe that the capture of those oilfields was an essential prerequisite to waging a prolonged war of economic attrition. I shall then outline and explain the lengthy planning of the 1942 campaign, which aimed first at protecting the vulnerable Rumanian oilfields - upon which the German war economy was already heavily reliant - and secondly (and more importantly) at possessing the far richer fields in the Caucasus. The immense Caucasus region, larger than Great Britain, is bounded by the Black Sea on the west and the Caspian on the east, and is traversed by the Caucasus Mountains. These massive mountains, many of which rise to over 5,000 m (including Mount Elbrus, at 5,633 m the highest peak in the range), run from the eastern shore of the Sea of Azov, opposite the Crimean Kerch Peninsula, 1,200 km southeasterly to Baku, the capital of present-day Azerbaijan. The mountains separate the North Caucasus from Transcaucasia. The former, in present-day Russia, comprise mainly steppes, rolling hills and desert lands. During the Second World War, it was a producer of grain, cotton and heavy farm machinery, and its two main oilfields - Maikop, near the Black Sea, and Grozny, near the Caspian - produced about ten per cent of all Soviet oil.4 In 1942, the British Ministry of Economic Warfare calculated the annual outputs of these fields to be approximately 2,500,000 tons each.5 A pipeline, running from Makhatchkala (320 km north of Baku on the Caspian) to Rostov, connected these two fields. This pipeline was the normal carrier of Caucasus oil to the eastern Ukrainian industrial area, centred around Kharkov. It extended only as far as Rostov, from where the oil was taken westward to Kharkov by boat up the Donets river system, which was, even according to conservative German calculations, suitable for ships and barges of 1,000 tons for much of the way and of 400 tons the rest. South of the Caucasus Mountains lies the densely-populated region of Transcaucasia, today comprising the nations of Georgia, Azerbaijan and Armenia. In 1942, this heavily industrialized region had a population density greater than that of the state of New York. Baku, situated on one of the world's richest oilfields, alone produced 80 per cent of all Soviet oil. It actually consisted of several fields, including thĂŠ new Nebit-Dagh 'oil base' near Krasnovodsk, directly across the Caspian from Baku proper in the present-day nation of Turkmenistan. Crude oil from this source, accounting for about seven per cent of Baku's total yield, was shipped back to Baku for refining. In 1942, the Ministry of Economic Warfare calculated the phenomenal annual output of Baku's 8,000 wells to be approximately 24,000,000 tons. A pipeline ran from Baku westward through Tiflis, capital of Georgia, to Batum, a major oil export port on the Black Sea. Oil going to Moscow, Gorkii and the main industrial centres in the west was taken by ship to Astrakhan at the mouth of the mighty Volga river, then up the Volga to its destinations. Oil bound for the industrial areas of the Urals and Siberia was shipped up the Caspian to Gurev, where it travelled by pipeline to Ufa, almost 1,000 km to the north. From there it was taken to its destinations by rail. Hitler's strong desire throughout 1941 and 1942 to capture these oilfields was not without precedent. During the last two years of the First World War, Germany experienced critical oil shortages and had to rely on Austria-Hungary and, to a far greater degree, Rumania for much of its supplies. General Ludendorff, whose words reveal the striking similarity between Germany's oil situation in both World Wars, later wrote that during the Great War 'Rumanian oil was of decisive importance.' Unfortunately, he added, 'the production of oil in Rumaina had increased to the limits of the possible, but this could not make good the whole shortage." 182/258
The German High Command therefore needed to obtain a new source, and settled on a plan to seize the Baku oilfield, even then recognized as one of the richest in the world. Before they could achieve this goal, however, the British beat them to it in August 1918 by entering Baku, which they occupied (except when temporarily ousted by the Turks) until well after the end of the war.12 This lamented Ludendorff, was 'a serious blow for us'. In order to make sense of Hitler's insistence on the capture of the Caucasus oilfields, 25 years after the first German attempt was abandoned, it is necessary to outline briefly the origin and significance of the Wehrmacht's 'Achilles' heel': its lack of oil. German economic strategists realized in the first years of Nazi rule that the nation's heavy dependency on imports of crude oil would be a serious problem in the event of war. In 1934 Germany consumed around three million metric tons of gasoline, fuel oil and various other petroleum products. Around 85 per cent came from domestic crude production, centred larely in the area around Hanover, and from a synthetic oil industry still in its infancey. Immediately after coming to power the National Socialist government took steps towards self-sufficiency in fuels and lubricants by seeking new wells and encouraging the expansion of the synthetic fuel industry. State subsidies were paid to encourage exploratory drilling within Germany, which resulted in domestic crude oil production increasing from 238,000 tons in 1933 to 1,052,000 tons in 1940. The Bergius hydrogénation and the Fischer-Tropsch process for the synthetic production of oil had been perfected only in the late 1920s, and at the time the National Socialists came to power only three small plants were in operation. Despite the high cost of producing synthetic fuel, this industry was continuously enlarged throughout the 1930s, so that in 1938 the production of fuels, lubricants and other oil products from coal reached an annual rate of roughly 1,600,000 tons, and by September 1939, 2,300,000 tons. In August 1936, Hitler had addressed a long and rambling memorandum to Hermann Goring, who was then Commissioner of Foreign Exchange and Raw Materials, on the urgent need for Germany to increase its 'defensive capacity' against what he called the Soviet Union's 'will of aggression'. Germany must be 'capable of waging a worthwhile war against the Soviet Union', he stated, because 'a victory over Germany by Bolshevism would not lead to a new Versailles Treaty but to the final destruction, indeed the extermination, of the German people.' Hitler explained to Goring what he saw as the desperate immediacy of Germany's economic and military requirements and outlined future steps to correct perceived deficiencies. The ultimate solution to Germany's problems, insisted Hitler in terms echoing the views he expounded in Mein Kampf," 'lies in expanding the living space [Lebensraum] of our people; that is, in extending the sources of its raw materials and foodstuffs.' (in his Weltanschauung, or world view, Lebensraum did not primarily mean space for settlement, but land and resources for economic exploitation.) The short term goal, he continued to Goring, must be an immediate 'economic mobilization' resulting in Germany's quickly reaching a 'position of political and economic self-sufficiency'. The production of all raw materials essential for modern warfare must be increased. German fuel production, he emphasized, must be increased 'at the fastest pace' and with great determination because 'the future conduct of war will depend on the completion of this task rather than the stockpiling of gasoline.' Hitler concluded by setting Goring two clear-cut tasks: '(1) the German army must be ready for war within four years, and (2) the German economy must be fit for war within four years.' Goring responded to the memorandum by having his economic staff formulate a detailed 'Four-Year Plan' for the Reich's economic development. This was accepted by the Führer, who announced it publicly on 9 September 1936 at the 'Reich Party Congress of Honour' at Nuremberg, and on 18 October he formally placed Goring in charge of its implementation. The latter instructed his staff to formulate a comprehensive strategy for increasing Germany's oil production. This plan provided for an increase in total production from less than two million tons in 1936 to 4,700,000 tons in 1940. The most important part of this expansion was a planned increase in the amount of synthetic fuel produced by the Bergius hydrogénation process (the only synthetic fuel process which could produce the urgently-needed aviation fuels") from 620,000 tons in 1936 to 2,730,000 in 1940. 183/258
On 12 July 1938, the Four-Year Plan was superseded by the Karinhall Plan (named after Göring's imposing manor house in the Schorfheide), which placed far greater emphasis on economic preparations for war.21 Realizing that Germany's present consumption of oil had risen to about 7,500,00 tons - and this was in peacetime - Göring's economic strategists resolved to overcome the glaring inadequacy of previous programmes by providing for an increase in the annual output of finished oil products to 11 million tons by the beginning of 1944. These production targets were soon revealed to be unrealistic. Consequently, several new oil plans were drawn up, beginning in September 1939 with a revision of the Karinhall Plan and ending in January 1944 with the Mineralöl Plan. Regardless of its extremely high costs (synthetic oil costs four to five times as much as crude to produce), the synthetic oil programme was still considered in the immediate pre-war period to be the best solution to Germany's oil problems, and hundreds of millions of Reichsmark were spent on the construction of production plants. At the outbreak of war in September 1939 there were 14 hydrogénation and Fischer-Tropsch plants in operation, with a further six under construction. The output of crude oil was also continously expanded, and the total yield of oil products from domestic sources at the time amounted to three million tons.24 Despite these intense efforts to improve Germany's oil situation rapidly, in 1938 - the last full year of peace - only about a third of the 7,500,000 tons of oil Germany consumed was produced domestically by synthetic plants and oil refineries. The bulk of the other five million tons still came from the United States, Venezuela and Iran. A smaller, but nonetheless significant amount (451,000 tons), came from Rumania. Accordingly, Germany's oil situation received a severe blow in September 1939 when its overseas imports ceased with the imposition of the AngloFrench naval blockade. The cessation of oil imports was clearly a major cause of concern among German economists, although its effects were not immediately felt. During the pre-war months of 1939 oil imports from overseas reached an all-time peak, so that despite the blockade from September onwards imports for the year as a whole amounted to 5,165,000 tons, up 200,000 tons from the previous year.27 However, during the following year imports dropped dramatically; only 2,075,000 tons managed to enter the Reich in 1940, and this was only from other countries on the Continent. Just over one million tons came from Rumania,28 and another 619,600 tons were imported from the Soviet Union in accordance with the German-Soviet trade agreements of 1939 and 1940.29 Naturally, imports from the Soviet Union ceased immediately when the fury of Operation BARBAROSSA was unleashed on 22 June 1941, although 256,300 tons had already been imported in the first half of that year. Rumania, by far the largest oil producer in Europe (excluding the Soviet Union), was the only nation capable of replacing a significant portion of the lost overseas imports. In 1938 Rumania exported 451,000 tons of oil products to Germany. On 23 March 1939 it signed an economic treaty with Germany, and on 27 May 1940 the two nations signed an oil pact. Accordingly, in 1939 it exported 974,000 tons to the Reich. In 1940 this rose to 1,007,000 tons. In these last two years Rumania continued to export oil - around 1,500,000 tons each year - to non-Axis nations, but as it drew closer to the Axis powers after Germany's victories in the west in the spring of 1940 these exports dropped off considerably. On 30 August 1940 Rumania participated in the second of the Vienna Awards. On 23 November it acceded to the Tripartite Pact, and on 25 November to the Anti-Comintern Pact.33 In 1941 Rumania became Germany's strongest economic and military ally when it joined wholeheartedly in the invasion of the Soviet Union. In addition to supplying its own troops at the front, it exported 2,086,000 tons of oil to the Reich that year, much of it going direct to the Wehrmacht in Russia. Germany's increasing reliance on Rumanian oil during the first two years of the war was a major source of anxiety to Hitler, who frequently expressed his concern that the Ploesti oilfields in Rumania lay within striking distance of the Soviet Air Force's long-range bombers. 'Now, in the era of air power', he told his generals on 20 January 1941, 'Russia can turn the Rumanian oilfields into an expanse of smoking debris ... and the very life of the Axis depends on those fields.' We shall see below how Hitler's fear of attacks on Rumanian oilfields by Soviet bombers stationed on the Crimean Peninsula - a fear shared by several of his top commanders - led him to conduct 184/258
a lengthy campaign in 1942 to 'clear up' the Crimea. The destruction of Rumania's oil industry would indeed have dealt a catastrophic blow to the German war effort. Oil was by far the most critical item in Germany's war economy, and, in 1940, the first full year of war, 94 per cent of its oil imports came from Rumania. Nonetheless, even without the benefit of hindsight it is clear that Hitler's concerns were unfounded, as his own military intelligence should have told him at the time. During the entire war the Soviet Union had, to quote the airpower historian Richard M端ller, 'only a rudimentary long-range bombing capability'. The Soviet long-range bomber command had relatively few aircraft, and none with precision bombing capabilities until late 1943. It certainly could not assemble a force of sufficient strength to deliver massed air strikes against the Ploesti installations, which were, in any event, protected by formidable anti-aircraft defences. Many raids by Soviet twin-engined, medium bombers were attempted throughout the war, but, as we shall see, these were weak, ineffectual and cost many aircraft. A far greater potential threat to the Ploesti refineries and plants was an air attack by a large strategic force based in the Mediterranean; but, although Hitler was unaware of it,38 Britain lacked the resources to mount such an attack in the years 1939 to 1941. The threat of actual attacks on Ploesti from the Mediterranean increased - as did Hitler's fear of them when the United States entered the war. However, although isolated and impotent attacks were made by the United States Army Air Forces in the middle of 1942, a heavy and continuous offensive against the Rumanian oilfields was not begun by the USAAF, assisted by the Royal Air Force, until April 1944. Another cause of anxiety for Hitler and his military economists was the very small size of Germany's accumulated stock of oil. All pre-war oil planning called for the accumulation of substantial reserve stocks, particularly of aviation fuel for the Luftwaffe and diesel fuels for the Kriegsmarine. However, at the outbreak of war the planned level had not been reached. Germany had no more than 492,000 tons of aviation fuel in reserve, instead of the planned amount of 1,500,000 tons. Similarly, it had only 1,118,000 tons of diesel and fuel oil instead of the planned figure of 2,800,000 tons. Indeed, the total accumulated stock at that point was only about a quarter of the Reich's annual consumption in peacetime. The oil reserves decreased dramatically during the first few months of war and subsequently never rose above 1,500,000 tons, which proved far from adequate. Germany's rapid conquests of Norway, Denmark, the Low Countries and France actually resulted in slight increases - albeit temporary ones - in its meagre reserve stocks of oil. During these Blitzkrieg campaigns the Wehrmacht consumed relatively little oil, mainly because of the small number of protracted battles and a heavy reliance on horse-drawn supply columns. According to the writers of one text on oil production and consumption, German forces 'managed to win their victories [in 1940] using a mere 12 million barrels of oil products, or about the same as the United States produced every three days.' Additionally, stocks of oil products captured during the short campaigns, especially that against France, were larger than the amounts consumed. For instance, 250,000 tons of aviation fuel alone (the equivalent of five months' production) were captured during the French campaign. Nonetheless, as Cooke and Nesbit point out, these increases were greatly outweighed by a new, long-term liability. 'Through its conquests', they write, 'the Third Reich had made itself responsible for meeting the oil needs of a whole group of occupied countries, stretching from Norway to the Spanish border, which could no longer obtain supplies from outside Europe'. When Mussolini bombastically announced Italy's declaration of war on France and Britain on 10 June 1940, Germany's oil situation suffered another reverse. Italy had no significant domestic production of oil and, with the implementation of the Allied blockade which followed its declaration of war, could obtain only negligible amounts from Albania (which it had annexed in April 1939). Thus from June 1940 onwards Italy was almost totally dependent on Germany for oil and, as a result, became a serious drain on the latter's production and stocks. Unlike the rapid and startlingly successful German campaigns of 1939 and 1940, Operation BARBAROSSA, the massive and ultimately unsuccessful offensive launched on 22 June 1941 to conquer the Soviet Union, seriously damaged the Reich's oil reserves. It was simply beyond Germany's ability to satisfy the oil requirements of the approximately 3,600,000 German and allied 185/258
soldiers (Finns, Italians, Rumanians, Hungarians and Slovakians), about 600,000 vehicles, 3,600 tanks, and over 2,700 aircraft participating in the offensive. Whereas Germany's war economy was capable of sustaining short Blitzkrieg campaigns it could not support the drawn-out war of economic attrition which developed when the Soviet Union did not collapse, as was widely expected by friends and enemies alike, within a few weeks. The prolonged campaign in the east quickly began to inflict severe economic burdens on the Wehrmacht. The production and supply of urgently needed war materials, including oil products, could not keep pace with demand. Moreover, during the eastern campaign German units were unable to utilize captured fuel, as they had during the campaigns of 1939 and 1940. This was because the octane content of Soviet petrol was too low for German vehicles. It could only be used after the addition of benzol in complex installations constructed specifically for that task. The oil situation of the- eastern armies soon became desperate. For example, on 6 September 1941 Hitler issued War Directive 35, which outlined Operation TAIFUN, the resumption of the offensive against Moscow. Five days later, Generaloberst Franz Halder, the German Army Chief of Staff, recorded in his war diary that the eastern forces needed 27 trainloads of fuel per day throughout the rest of September and 29 per day throughout the entire following month if they were to carry out the new offensive successfully.47 However, wrote Halder, the High Command of the Armed Forces (OKW) argued that it could not supply this enormous quantity. It could supply only 22 trainloads daily for the period of 16 September and, while it could provide the required 27 trainloads per day for the last two weeks of that month, it could supply only 22 per day (less than 75 per cent of those required) for the whole of October. For November, when the daily requirements were estimated to be 20 trainloads, the OKW believed that only three (or 15 per cent of the required level) could be supplied each day. As it turned out, the OKW failed to supply even these lower quantities to the eastern forces. Although the German Army had yet to lose a single major battle on the eastern front, it was already painfully clear to German military planners by October 1941 that the Blitzkrieg against the Soviet Union had failed. Moreover, it was also clear by this stage that both German and Rumanian oil reserves were exhausted, and that current oil production in both nations was insufficient to satisfy the requirements of the Wehrmacht and industry (as well, of course, as civilian consumption). Rumania's oil supplies to the Reich had increased from 150,800 tons in June 1941 to 361,600 tons in August, but this increase was only possible because Rumania reluctantly supplied Germany with a large portion of the oil earmarked for its own domestic consumption, which was exhausted by late September.49 Accordingly, deliveries to the Reich decreased after that point. They dropped from a peak of 361,600 tons in August to 222,800 in October. In November they dropped further to 213,000 tons and, in December, when these problems were exacerbated by a short-lived quarrel between Germany and Rumania over payment, to a mere 104,000. In January 1942, they rose slightly to 111,000 tons, but fell sharply in February, when only 73,000 tons were delivered to the Reich. Although deliveries gradually rose again from this low point, the dramatic drop in the last months of 1941 proved almost disastrous for the German war effort. Even before the eastern campaign started, German economists had been predicting these problems and issuing clear warnings to military planners. In March 1941, by way of illustration, General der Infanterie Georg Thomas, head of the War Economy and Armaments Office, had warned both Goring and Keitel in a detailed report that stocks would be exhausted by late October. From that time onwards, he argued, it would no longer be possible to offset the significant shortage of oil. The only possibility of alleviating the desperate shortage in the event of a protracted war was for Germany to exploit Soviet oil production. 'It is crucial', Thomas insisted, to seize quickly and exploit the Caucasus oilfields, at least the areas around Maikop and Grozny. In oilfields that have not been completely destroyed, it will take about a month to resume production, and another month for its transport; the areas concerned will have to have been seized by us by no later than the end of the second month of operation: this includes transport facilities (tankers on the Black Sea, an operational route from Odessa to Przemysl on a Russian gauge so as to take advantage of Russian stocks of tank wagons). If this is not successful, we must expect the most 186/258
serious repercussions, with unpredictable consequences for military operations after 1.9.[1941] and for the survival of the economy. Although many members of the German High Command believed in July that the Soviet armed forces were close to total collapse - for example, on 3 July the normally cautious Haider jubilantly penned in his diary that 'it would probably be no exaggeration to say that the campaign against Russia has been won within the first fortnight'" - by late August it was clear that the eastern campaign was still far from a successful conclusion. On 26 August Thomas, whose earlier predictions were now proving correct, submitted to the OKW a new report on the oil situation. He argued that the small and rapidly diminishing reserve stocks still available to Germany would be exhausted in the following months (a correct assessment, as noted above) and that current production levels were insufficient to satisfy demands. Moreover, he stated, even if production were 'pushed to its limits it would be impossible to supply all the required oil. Accordingly, our only option is to cut consumption in accordance with the availability of supplies.' Cuts were to be made in all areas not directly affecting front-line military operations. The home requirements of the Wehrmacht, deliveries to Italy and to all other European countries dependent on Germany, as well as the civilian economy, were affected by this rationing. Accordingly, warned Thomas, these drastic measures would result in considerable 'political, military and economic disadvantages'. Four days after Thomas submitted this report to the OKW, he attended a meeting with Generalmajor Eduard Wagner, the Army's Quartermaster General, who explained that Army Groups South and Centre on the eastern front were experiencing critical fuel shortages, a situation exacerbated by major rail transportation problems.56 Wagner was of the opinion, nonetheless, that oil requirements for the following months could still be met if additional reductions were made in the consumption of the civilian and non-operational miliary sectors, as well as of the occupied territories. Despite this encouraging opinion, Wagner's conclusion was bleak: by the beginning of 1942 oil supplies would be exhausted and 'new oilfields would have to be captured. In order to satisfy requirements for the campaign in the east, the oil quota for the civilian economy had, in fact, already been reduced by around ten per cent in May 1941. 'The supply of fuel for the civilian sector is not at all going smoothly', Haider glumly jotted in his diary on 20 May. Indeed, a month later Walther Funk, the Economics Minister, expressed to Jodl, head of the OKW Operations Staff, his deep concern that the economy was now receiving 'even less than 18 per cent of peacetime consumption' and that the requirements of the economy had been 'threshed to the limit'. However, despite conveying to Jodl his 'gravest misgivings about any further curbs', Funk was unable to prevent cuts in the quota for the civilan sector made during the ensuing period. So extensive were these cuts that British Air Ministry observers secretly referred to them early in 1942 as 'the severest form of rationing'. On 7 October 1941, even as Generalfeldmarschall von Bock's Panzer spearheads sealed off massed Soviet forces in the Vyazma and Bryansk pockets (one of the most devastating double envelopments in military history), Thomas submitted another lengthy report on the constantly deteriorating oil situation. It was possible, the report stated, to satisfy requirements of urgently needed aviation fuel and lubricants until the end of the year. Nonetheless, this would leave only 31,000 tons of these products to start off the new year, a dangerously low level and a huge drop from 1 October, when there had been 181,000 tons.61 Although there were still 289,000 tons of motor and carburettor fuel available, current production levels were insufficient to prevent this stock being completely exhausted by mid November. Accordingly, by the end of that month there would be a shortfall of 32,000 tons, which would increase to as much as 97,000 tons by the end of December. These were not the only critical fuel shortages. On 1 October there were fewer than 250,000 tons of diesel available, and, at current rates of consumption, shortages of this fuel would be around 25,000 tons at the end of November, rising to 50,000 tons at the end of December. Similarly, while the heating oil situation was not yet desperate, production levels remained low and stocks were rapidly decreasing. It was clearly no longer possible to supply anything close to the 100,000 tons 187/258
of heating oil the Italians emphatically stated that they needed each month. Thomas predicted that only 60,000 tons could be delivered to Italy in October, and 55,000 tons per month in November and December. To complicate matters, the oil situation of the Kriegsmarine had also grown slowly worse through 1941 (matching its fortunes against the Royal Navy). By late October it had become critical. On 13 November, GroĂ&#x;admiral Erich Raeder provided Hitler with a lengthy situation report, which contained a detailed analysis of the Navy's 'very difficult oil situation'. The Navy's total stock of diesel oil (106,000 tons) and imports from Rumania (45,000 tons in November) were still sufficient to satisfy its current requirements. However, its total stock of fuel oil had dropped considerably to 380,000 tons, of which only about 220,000 tons were ready for use without additional treatment. Monthly supplies of fuel oil to the Navy were insufficient to satisfy its requirements, and in November alone the shortfall for both the German Navy and its Italian counterpart (supplied by Germany and Rumania) would come to 116,000 tons. Despite his grave concerns about his own Navy's terrible oil situation, Raeder added stoically that he had complied with Keitel's recent order to transfer a further 30,000 tons of fuel oil to the Italian Navy. On 12 December, Raeder, who was painfully aware that the Navy's oil needs were considered by Hitler and his closest military advisers to be far less important than those of the massive armies on the eastern front, nonetheless informed the FĂźhrer that the Navy's oil situation had now become 'very critical'. Its requirements, he pointed out, 'have been cut by fifty per cent.' This, he added sharply, was causing 'an intolerable restriction on the mobility of our vessels.' He was clearly disappointed that, despite this distressing situation and the temporary cessation of oil deliveries from Rumania, '90,000 tons will have been handed over to the Italians' by 1 January 1942. Thus it was clear to Hitler and his economic and military planners during the closing months of 1941 that the unexpectedly prolonged campaign on the eastern front had severely weakened Germany's oil situation. Moreover, they were acutely aware that oil shortages were now affecting the operational capability of even the troops in the east still struggling to deliver the final knockout blow to the Soviet armed forces. During a meeting between Wagner and the War Economy and Armaments Office on 22 October, for example, it was revealed that the forces on the eastern front, still slogging forward with dogged tenacity in clothing unable to keep out the bitterly cold wind and rain, were consuming far more fuel than previously calculated. This greater consumption was the result of worn-out engines, difficult terrain and appalling weather (it was already several weeks into the muddy season in central European Russia). The army was now able to cover only around 35 to 40 km on the amount of fuel considered sufficient for 100 km, which naturally meant that far more fuel had to be supplied. It was estimated that no less than 20 trainloads were needed per day by the troops in the east. However, even if this quantity of fuel were available (and it was not), increases in deliveries could not be made because of transportation problems on the eastern railways. Dozens of loaded trains were backed up, waiting for railway pioneer troops and battalions of the Reich Labour Service and Organization Todt to regauge rail lines, sidings and marshalling areas to the German width and to organize truck columns connecting rail heads with the constantly moving troops. This problem was exacerbated by the activities of Russian partisans, who did considerable damage to railways used by the Germans. Because the needed increases in fuel deliveries could not be attained, troop mobility (particularly in Army Group Centre) began to suffer. As it happened, this logistics problem actually proved to be a blessing in disguise: when German fuel supplies came close to total exhaustion in mid November, this backlog of trains (around 120 by then) served as an unexpected reserve and was able - to the relief of several worried corps commanders - to keep the eastern armies supplied. On 3 November, while von Bock's exhausted and frozen Army Group Centre was preparing for its final drive on Moscow, Generalfeldmarschall Walther von Brauchitsch, the beleaguered and soon-to-be-relieved Commander-in-Chief of the Army, paid a visit to the headquarters of Army Group South. This mighty force, commanded by the aloof and aristocratic Generalfeldmarschall Gerd von Rundstedt, occupied much of central and eastern Ukraine and most of the Crimea. It was still advancing slowly eastward towards strategic objectives considered by Hitler to be more 188/258
important than Moscow (which he had characterized back in July as 'merely a geographical concept') ."7 To the dismay and frustration of many of Hitler's military advisers, these objectives (economic rather than military) included Kharkov, the fourth largest industrial centre in the Soviet Union; the Donets Basin, famous for its coal and iron industries; and the oil-rich Caucasus region. For instance, in his supplement to War Directive 34, dated 21 August 1941, Hitler had stated: The most important aim to be achieved before the onset of winter is not the caputre of Moscow but, rather, the occupation of the Crimea, of the industrial and coalmining area of the Donets basin, the cutting of the Russian supply routes from the Caucasus oilfields, and, in the north, the investment of Leningrad and the establishment of contact with the Finns. Attacks on the Rumanian oilfields and refineries were clearly still preying on Hitler's mind, because he emphasized in this supplement that 'the capture of the Crimean Peninsula is of extreme importance for safeguarding our oil supplies from Rumania'. The very next day he returned to this theme in a different document: Apart from the fact that it is important to capture or destroy Russia's iron, coal and oil reserves, it is of decisive importance for Germany that the Russian air bases on the Black Sea be eliminated, above all in the region of Odessa and the Crimea. This measure can be said to be absolutely essential for Germany. Under present circumstances no one can guarantee that our only important oilproducing region is safe from air attack. Such attacks could have incalculable results for the future conduct of the war. Similarly, two days later he explained to Generaloberst Heinz Guderian the absolute need to neutralize the Crimea, 'that Soviet aircraft carrier for attacking the Rumanian oilfields'.71 the significance of Hitler's constant fear of Soviet air attacks on his main source of oil by Crimeanbased bombers will become apparent below, when we discuss the reasons for the time-consuming 1942 campaign to capture Sevastopol and the Kerch Peninsula. When Kharkov fell to von Reichenau's Sixth Army on 24 October, Hitler was delighted. However, when von Stiilpnagel's Seventeenth Army (on the Sixth Army's right flank) moved into the Donets Basin, it discovered that much of the industrial machinery was gone. Many plants had been sabotaged, while hundreds of other industrial enterprises had been taken apart by Soviet engineers and technicians - in accordance with the instructions of the Soviet Council for Evacuation - to be reconstructed at locations in the distant region of the Urals. This outstanding achievement, which required (in Nikita Khruschev's words) a 'superhuman effort and total co-operation', has received little scholarly attention, yet it must rate as one of the Soviet Union's greatest wartime achievements. Cheated of his anticipated spoils, Hitler insisted that Army Group South push on towards his other objectives in southern Russia. During his visit to this Army Group on 3 November, von Brauchitsch, although unhappy at being Hitler's mouthpiece, informed its stunned command staff that the Supreme Command and the High Command of the Army (OKH) still wanted the areas around Maikop (the northernmost of the Caucasus oilfields) and Stalingrad to be 'captured at all costs this winter'. Accordingly, he continued, 'ways and means of attaining these objectives would have to be found. In the case of Maikop, oil is naturally the incentive; in the case of Stalingrad [it is] the urgent necessity of destroying the Russian command's last "major" north-south link.' Army Group South cont nued to claw its way eastward. Almost three weeks later, on 21 November, units of General der Kavallerie von Mackensen's ///.Armeekorps (from von Kleist's First Panzer Army) occupied Rostov, at the mouth of the Don river. Despite intense resistance, they even managed to capture intact the main bridge over the Don leading to the south, towards the Caucasus. Not knowing that these numerically weak units would soon be driven from the city (it was retaken just eight days later) and that his Corps would be savagely mauled by the powerful Soviet Southern Front, von Mackensen believed he had cut the Russian supply routes from the Caucasus and, accordingly, saw his victory at Rostov as a major blow against the Soviet war machine. On the day that he took the city, he issued this Daily Corps Order: Soldiers of the III. Panzerkorps! The battle for Rostow has been won!... Not icy wind or biting frost, not insufficient winter clothing or equipment, nor dark, moonless nights, not tanks, mortars, nor thousands of mines or field installations, which took the enemy weeks to build and the extent of which we all saw, none ofthat, and least of all the Red Army itself, was able to stop your triumphant march. ... We have finally cut off any effective contact to the Caucasus for the Russians. Now the task is to hold 189/258
what we have captured so that we may open the gate to new victories. Hitler, also largely unaware of the coming Soviet counteroffensive, was just as optimistic as von Mackensen. The Caucasus oilfields, the nearest of which was now tantalizingly close (just 300 km away), were still at the forefront of his plans for Army Group South. On the day it took Rostov, he gave this already overstretched force, together with the First Panzer Army and the Eleventh Army (the latter commanded by von Manstein, arguably his most brilliant general), the unachievable task of cutting off 'even the British and Soviet links over the Caucasus', beginning with the oilfields around Maikop. The Seventeenth Army was given an equally unreasonable task: the capture of Stalingrad and its surrounding industrial areas, in order to 'cut off the enemy's north-south link on the Volga.' The successes of Army Group South, culminating in the capture of Rostov, had not gone unnoticed by Soviet military strategists, who recognized the severe threat to their oilfields. 'If Germany succeeds in taking Moscow', explained Marshal Timoshenko in a secret speech to the Supreme Defence Council in Moscow, that is obviously a grave disappointment for us, but it by no means disrupts our grand strategy Germany would gain accommodation [that is, shelter from the cruel Russian winter], but that alone will not win the war. The only thing that matters is oil. As we remember, Germany kept harping on her own urgent oil problems in her economic bargaining with us from 1939 to 1941. So we have to do all we can (a) to make Germany increase her oil consumption, and (b) to keep the German armies out of the Caucasus. The immediate task of the Red Army, he continued, was to throw the Germans back j ust far enough to destroy the caches of tanks and ammunitionthey had built up for their intended offensive into the Caucasus. The Red Army's offensive in the south, when it finally came, liberated Rostov and threatened to inflict enormous damage on the units of Army Group South as it drove them back westward. On 29 November, after their forces recaptured Rostov, Timoschenko and Khruschev jubilantly issued an order to the troops of the Southwest Front. 'The armoured bloodsucker von Kleist', they declared with typical Soviet rhetoric (and exaggeration), attacked in the direction of Rostow and the group under Schwedler moved toward Woroschilowgrad in the devious enemy's attempt to break the resistance of the units of the Red Army, to capture the Don basin and Rostow, and to make his way to the grain stores of the northern Caucasus and the oil wells of Grosnij [sic] and Baku. ... [However,] in several days of bloody fighting, the units of the Red Army ... have dealt the enemy mighty blows, destroyed his best regiments and divisions, and plunged the remnants of the [Panzer] Group von Kleist, the select dogs of the deranged German fascists, into incurable misery. The Soviet recapture of Rostov (the first major defeat suffered by the German Army in any war theatre up to that time) shattered Hitler's hopes of capturing and exploiting the Caucasus oilfields for the oil-starved Reich - or even cutting off the Soviet Union's ability to transport oil from the Caucasus to its armies and factories - before the end of 1941. On 29 November, even as German troops were hastily evacuating Rostov in the face of overwhelming Soviet forces, Army Group South reported that, while its winter line will 'more or less remain the same' (aside from some inevitable local changes), 'the plan to clear out the Donets bend or reach Maikop will not now be carried out.'78 The following day, Von Rundstedt informed the F端hrer that, because of heavy losses of men and equipment, the vastly superior strength of the enemy's forces and the appalling weather, Army Group South was forced to suspend all 'operational movements'. It was, he wrote, going over to the defence 'on a tactically-acceptable line' (that is, a withdrawal to the line of Taganrog- Mius River-Bachmut). Hitler was (in Haider's words) 'in a state of extreme agitation over the situation', and angrily forbade this withdrawal. Von Rundstedt, whose greatest concern was the safety of his already suffering troops, replied via von Brauchitsch that he could not comply with Hitler's order and asked that either the order be changed or he be relieved of his post. Hitler saw this as a direct challenge to his authority and, on 1 December, stripped von Rundstedt of the command of the Army Group and replaced him with GeneralfeldmarschallVon Reichenau (formerly in command of the Sixth Army). As it turned out, von Reichenau also realized the hopelessness of the situation and pleaded with 190/258
Hitler to withdraw his men to the line of the Mius river. This time the F체hrer relented, and the hard-pressed forces around Rostov moved back to more defensible positions. Haider's diary entry for that day reveals his loathing of Hitler's erratic behaviour: 'Now we are where we could have been last night. It was a senseless waste of strength and time, and, on top ofthat, we also lost von Rundstedt. This withdrawal to the Mius was a bitter pill for Hitler to swallow, who now realized that the oilfields of the Caucasus had slipped from his grasp, at least until the following year. He had actually feared this outcome for some time, despite his renewed optimism in the period immediately following the German capture of Rostov. On 7 November, when he still believed BARBAROSSA could (and craved that it would) be brought to a successful conclusion in 1941, he complained to the rapidly failing von Brauchitsch (who suffered a serious heart attack the following day) that the seizure of the oilfields would have to be delayed until the following year. Similarly, on 19 November he informed his most senior advisers that the first objective for 1942 would be the Caucasus oilfields, and that the campaign launched for this purpose in March or April would aim to take German forces right to the 'Russian southern frontier' (that is, the Soviet-Iranian border). In the first week of December, the defeat at Rostov paled into insignificance against events unfolding along the entire eastern front. In the far north, the vanguard of von Leeb's Army Group North was on the verge of encirclement at Tikhvin, east of Leningrad, forcing an angry Hitler to permit the retreat of these endangered forces towards 'Lenin's city'. Things were even worse in the region of Army Group Centre. In the middle of November, the first solid frosts had permitted a renewal of the offensive against Moscow, and by the end of the month the fall of the city appeared certain. However, the exhausted Germans were halted within sight of the Kremlin's glittering towers by a devastating combination of, on the one hand, diminishing troop strengths, major supply difficulties, savage frosts (of around -35째C) and paralysing blizzards ; on the other, the courage and tenacity, of warmly-clothed and steadily-reinforced Soviet troops desperately fighting side by side with terrified Muscovites to save their capital. On 6 December, the Soviets launched their massive counteroffensive (over 100 Soviet divisions were thrown into battle in the area of Army Group Centre alone), which lasted until the middle of April 1942 when it petered out and the Germans were themselves able to prepare a renewed offensive. Hitler, stunned by events in the east but trying to maintain a confident air in front of his generals, discussed with Haider the need of rehabilitation for the troops and argued that, while this was indeed necessary, he still had objectives to be attained during the winter. The oil of the Caucasus continued to feature prominently in his far-fetched plans; as well as eliminating the Ladoga Front near Leningrad and linking up with the Finns, he said the Donets bend in the south had to be secured, 'as a jump-off base for Maikop'. The following day, 7 December, Hitler was sitll talking inanely about renewing the drive to the south. 'We must take the Maikop oil region', he stated. 'Rostov should not be written off for this winter. ... With decent weather we can launch counterattacks.' On 8 December, Hitler, apparently resigned at last to the failure of his Blitz campaign in the east, issued War Directive 39 to the three services. In this he acknowledged that the merciless winter, and the consequent difficulties in bringing up supplies, compelled his forces 'to abandon immediately all major offensive operations and to go over to the defensive.' Although it outlined steps to be taken towards the rehabilitation of troops, even a cursory reading reveals that Hitler did not intend there to be any major withdrawals in the east. Indeed, only two days earlier he had remarked that 'the Russians have not voluntarily abandoned any ground; we cannot do it either. In principle, there can be no reduction in the line.' War Directive 39 firmly stated that there could be no withdrawals unless rear areas had been prepared which offered troops 'better living conditions and defence possiblities'. Given the difficulty of preparing such rear areas in the snow-covered Soviet wastelands, where the earth was frozen solid, very few of the tortured units at the front were able to move back. Hitler was furious with commanders who appeared to disobey his order. On 15 December, for example, after hearing that von Bock was issuing orders to evacuate positions along Army Group Centre's hardpressed front, he sent an angry message to the Field Marshal's headquarters, requiring him 'to issue the following instructions to the organizations in his command: "Stand and 191/258
fight! Not another yard backward!'" His anger at senior commanders culminated in his so-called Haltebefehl (or 'stand-fast order') of 16 December, in which he ordered the 'front to be defended down to the last man'. He even sacked those commanders -including Guderian, his ablest Panzer commander - who ignored repeated demands to stand fast. As it turned out, however, many of Hitler's senior commanders, including Generalfeldmarschall Keitel, were later to admit that his rigid Haltebefehl -which they considered insane at the time - was the right decision. War Directive 39 also sheds considerable light on the topic at hand: Hitler's pursuit of Soviet oil. It reveals that, even despite the dreadful battering his worn-out forces were receiving in the east, he still held fast to his goal of taking the Caucasus oilfields during 1942. In order to free the bulk of von Manstein's Eleventh Army for future missions, Sevastopol, the Soviet Union's main naval base and shipyard on the Black Sea, was to be captured as soon as possible. Then, 'in spite of all difficulties', Army Group South must endeavour to establish conditions which, in favourable weather, even during this winter, would make it possible to attack and capture the Lower DonDonets line. This would provide favourable conditions for operations against the Caucasus in the spring. The same day that Hitler issued this directive, the Operations Division of the OKH issued its own instructions to the troops in the east, which comprised guidelines for 'securing the occupied territories in the most advantageous, economical defence front' and rehabilitating the army over the winter months." These detailed instructions - entitled 'Directives for the Tasks of the Eastern Army in the Winter of 1941/42' - were intended to clarify the nature and purpose of the operations outlined in Hitler's often-vague directive, and to describe how front-line commanders should go about implementing Hitler's instructions. As such, they do not deviate from Hitler's strategy; rather, they support his unpopular views on the situation in the east and direct the three army groups to undertake missions in accordance with his strategic ambitions. Army Group North was to continue its current operation south of Lake Ladoga, link up with the Finns and thus deprive Leningrad of its supply routes. Army Group Centre was to discontinue all offensive operations (which it had already done) and establish a defensive front against Soviet counteroffensives. Mobile divisions were to be rehabilitated behind the left flank of Army Group South in order to prepare them for possible intervention in the event of a Soviet offensive from the Voronezh area. Army Group South, as well as preventing a Soviet breakthrough between the Donets and the Sea of Azov, was to hold Kharkov and, in co-operation with units of Army Group Centre, secure the important Belgorod-Kursk railway. Moreover, the Crimea would have to be made secure, even after the capture of Sevastopol by Manstein. Most importantly (for the purposes of this study), Army Group South was to retake Rostov and the Donets Basin to the north-east, in preparation for a future drive down into the Caucasus to capture the Maikop oilfields. It became clear towards the end of the 1941/42 winter that Soviet counteroffensives, despite the terrible destruction they inflicted, were not going to dislodge the bulk of the strained and exhausted German forces still stretched out along an enormous front running from Leningrad to the Sea of Azov. Accordingly, military planners and intelligence officers on both sides began making preparations for the coming spring and summer. Even at his bleakest moments late in that harsh winter, Hitler's thoughts were with the coming spring offensive. On 3 January 1942, while the Soviets continued to penetrate German lines along the entire eastern front, he confided his plans to Oshima Hiroshi, the Japanese ambassador to Berlin. For the time being, he told Oshima, he would not conduct another offensive in the centre of the front, but was instead 'determined to take up again the offensive in the direction of the Caucasus as soon as the weather is favourable.' It was absolutely vital to get first to the Caucasus oilfields and then to those in Iran and Iraq. Not only would this greatly improve Germany's oil situation and damage the Soviet Union's, but it would cause the collapse of the Allied position in the Middle East and possibly unleash a freedom movement within the Arab world. Naturally, he added, he would also do everything possible to destroy Moscow and Leningrad. Two weeks later, on 18 January, Hitler disclosed these intentions to von Bock before the latter flew to distant Poltava to take command of Army Group South, following the untimely death of von Reichenau. Von Bock, whose rebuilt Army Group would carry out the coming offensive, was given two missions: 'to hold for the present and at192/258
tack in the spring.' Despite such optimistic-sounding statements about another campaign in the east, throughout December 1941 and the first four or five weeks of 1942 Hitler was racked with doubts as to whether his eastern armies could still be saved. Although months later he admitted to close friends and confidants that during the height of the winter crisis he sometimes doubted that he could stave off a catastrophe,94 he was careful to keep these doubts hidden from his generals and, of course, the German public. In a rousing speech he delivered in the Berliner Sportpalast on 30 January 1942, the ninth anniversary of his election to power, he spoke of his 'unbounded confidence, confidence in my own person, so that nothing, whatever it may be, can throw me out of the saddle, so that nothing can shake me.' This speech, an inspired Goebbels penned in his diary, was as successful as those of the early 1930s. It 'charged the whole nation as if it were a storage battery. ... As long as he lives and is among us in good health, as long as he can give us the strength of his spirit, no evil can touch us.' By the middle of February, even though Soviet offensives continued to inflict heavy damage on German forces, Hitler had shaken off the depression that gripped him in December and January and was regaining his confidence. He was encouraged by the success of Rommel's brilliant counterattack at El Agheila in Libya on 21 January, which caught the British Eighth Army off guard and within ten days forced it to abandon all its recent gains in the Benghazi bulge. On 12 February, he was thrilled by the escape of the Gneisenau, Scharnhorst and Prinz Eugen, which dashed from Brest through the English Channel in broad daylight to safer waters in Norway. He could take personal pride in the success of this daring operation; the idea of these capital ships dashing through the Channel under the nose of the British had been his own. He was also heartened on 15 February by the news that the United Kingdom had suffered the worst military defeat in its history: the fall of Singapore to the Japanese army. During that same period the Japanese inflicted similar humiliations on the Americans in the Philippines. German fortunes on the eastern front also began to look promising. Repeatedly situations that appeared extremely perilous were, by means of superior tactics and incredible endurance, stabilized and brought under control. Some were even transformed into minor successes. Hitler was especially pleased with the eventual success of Army Group Centre's attempts to close the gaps in its line and form a new front. Although he knew that German and Soviet forces would remain locked in bloody battle for some time yet, and in places his men were only barely holding on, he felt that the worst was over and that he had accomplished his first objective; he had arrested the widespread panic among his generals and prevented a rout similar to Napoleon's in 1812. Moreover, he regarded his armies' successful resistance to the Soviet winter offensive as further proof that his 'stand-fast' order was the right decision and that the generals he dismissed were incompetent, cowardly and defeatist. His iron will had mastered the winter crisis, he believed. Now it would drive the summer offensive. The plan for a major offensive into the Caucasus to seize the oilfields was, to a much greater extent than the previous year's attack on the Soviet capital, Hitler's own strategic conception. Keitel, who thought the plan had considerable merit, wrote in his memoirs that the F端hrer 'conceived the idea entirely alone'. During the height of the winter crisis Hitler had unfairly but repeatedly cursed the General Staff for having imposed its Moscow campaign on him. Now that he had pulled Germany back from the brink of disaster he was determined to trust his instincts and order a campaign to attain his own strategic objectives (which were clearly shaped by his awareness of the Reich's economic problems). Moreover, he would no longer limit himself to issuing general instructions, but would, in his new capacity as Commander-in-Chief of the Army (since von Brauchitsch's resignation on 19 December), take complete and immediate charge of the direction of operations." Operation BARBAROSSA had been conceived in basic accordance with Clausewitz's fundamental rule of warfare that the proper objective of a campaign is the defeat of the enemy's military forces in the field and that the seizure of economic and political objectives must follow, not precede, this. However, Hitler's decision in the winter of 1941/42 to seize the Caucasus oilfields, rather than force a decisive battle on the Soviet armed forces, violated Clausewitz's rule. He was 193/258
certainly not unaware of Clausewitz's dictum. Indeed, he was well versed in military theory and has studied most key works in this field, including Clausewitz's masterpiece, Vom Kriege. On occasions he would pompously point this out to generals who challenged him on matters of strategy. 'There's no need for you to try to teach me', he lectured Guderian (whose own book on armoured warfare had greatly impressed him) during one particular disagreement. 'I've studied Clausewitz and Moltke and read all the Schlieffen papers. I'm more in the picture than you are!" His decision to avoid a confrontation with the bulk of the Soviet forces and aim instead at the conquest of the Caucasus in order to exploit its economic resources was based, not on ignorance of the basic tenets of military theory, but on deep concern over his struggling economy and the perceived lack of feasible alternative strategies. Frightful losses in the winter of 1941/42 meant that the Wehrmacht was no longer able to undertake wide-ranging offensives along the entire eastern front. By 31 January 1942 the armies in the east had suffered 917,985 casualties, including 28,935 officers, and the eastern Luftwaffe fleets had suffered 18,089."" Although large numbers of replacements were sent in the following months, they were nowhere near enough to offset the losses inflicted during the height of the winter crisis, let alone rebuild adequate reserves. The loss of matĂŠriel was also a source of grave concern: 424 tanks were knocked out in the first three weeks of December alone, a rate of destruction that continued well into January. Various endeavours were undertaken to replace these tanks, but their effects were not immediately felt. On 30 March, the OKH reported that the 16 Panzer divisions deployed in the Soviet Union were left with only 140 operational tanks between them, which was fewer than the usual complement of a single division.102 Moreover, the mobility of the eastern armies was restricted by huge losses of horses and motor vehicles. By the end of January, 101,529 vehicles had been destroyed, including 42,851 motorcycles, 28,942 cars and 41,135 lorries. Again, despite increases in production, these losses simply could not be offset. Indeed, once the objectives of the summer campaign were agreed during early spring, the units of Army Groups North and Centre were deprived of most of their motor vehicles in order to ensure that Army Group South, which was to carry out the offensive, regained at least 85 per cent of its former mobility. The removal of so many motor vehicles naturally led to a significant reduction in the combat effectiveness of Army Groups North and Centre, a situation exacerbated by the shortage of horses and fodder. Supply stocks were almost exhausted, and transportation difficulties held up the delivery of weapons and equipment already loaded on trains. As a result of these problems and his realization that the German economy now had to cope with a prolonged war of economic attrition, Hitler issued an order on 10 January 1942 for the reorganization of the armaments industry." The long-term objective was still 'the build-up of the Luftwaffe and Kriegsmarine for the purpose of fighting the Anglo- Saxon powers', but the 'strategic demands of 1942 make it impossible, for the time being, to attain this objective through Ă reduction of armaments destined for the Army.' On the contrary, the Army would have to be given a disproportionately large share of manpower and armaments so that it could accomplish 'the strategic tasks of 1942'. In order to satisfy the 'increased needs of the Army', the order continues, it might be necessary at times to make cuts in the allocations of armaments to the Air Force and the Navy. The former was to continue its current programmes, except for 'a temporary curtailment of its ammunition and bomb production in all classifications where a sufficient supply exists'. Similarly, the latter was simply to concentrate on the construction and maintenance of U-boats, and, 'because of the supplies on hand', there was to be a curtailment of the supply of ammunition in favour of the Army. The Army itself was to be made ready for offensive commitments by 1 May 1942. As well as assuring that the Army would have supplies sufficient 'for about four months' continuous operations', it was necessary to build up a 'backlog of ammunition (excluding the original allotment) amounting to six times the average monthly consumption of the eastern campaign ... for the main weapons.' Despite the long-term benefits of this reorganization of the armaments industry, which gave the highest priority to the acquisition of coal and oil, it could not, of course, immediately change the condition of the German Army. At the end of March 1942, only eight of the 162 divisions deployed on the eastern front were fully operational for the coming offensive. Three more could be 194/258
brought up to full offensive capability after a short rehabilitation period, and 47 could perform limited offensive tasks. The other 104 divisions could be deployed only for defensive duties. Accordingly, in the late winter and spring of 1942, it was clear to Hitler and his military planners that it was simply no longer possible to conduct a wideranging offensive in the east which would force a decisive battle on the Soviet armed forces. Therefore if an eastern offensive were to be conducted at all in 1942, and there exists no evidence that the German High Command ever seriously considered the eastern forces' adopting an essentially defensive posture, the one choice left to be made was in which sector to strike. Only Hitler's proposed drive to the Caucasus offered a solution to the glaring problems of the war economy, which were growing worse with every passing month. If the oilfields could be captured, their output would certainly relieve the terrible shortage of oil products currently experienced by both Germany and Italy, and also allow their armed forces to continued the prolonged struggle against the growing list of nations now at war against them. Germany's need for oil was certainly great. In 1941, its total supply had amounted to 8,929,000 tons, which, although up a little from 8,200,000 tons in 1939, was nowhere near enough to meet the needs of both the civilian economy and the armed forces. Indeed, for the protracted eastern campaign it had been necessary to withdraw over a million tons from the nation's meagre reserves, leaving them exhausted by the end of the year. At the beginning of 1942, stocks for all civilian and military purposes were down to a dangerously low level of 797,000 tons (excluding marine diesel), which was around half the reserve amount of the previous year and barely enough for one month's consumption. By early 1942 existing sources were clearly unable to provide Germany with enough oil to resume offensive operations against the Soviet Union on the scale of the 1941 campaign, let alone to wage war on the western powers on a scale sufficient to bring about their defeat. Since the outbreak of war, only slight gains had been made in the domestic extraction of crude oil, which never accounted for over 20 per cent of the Reich's total supply. Synthetic production, on the other hand, had risen to 4,116,000 tons in 1941 (up from 2,220,000 in 1939) and would continue to rise steadily for another two years, until the synthetic fuel plants began to be targeted by Allied bombers. However, these gains in synthetic production were offset slightly by the declining output of the Rumanian oilfields. For various reasons, including the gradually decreasing productivity of the wells, their yield had dropped from 8,701,000 tons in 1937 to 5,577,000 in 1941. Much of this amount was needed by Rumania itself, whose own economy was straining to cope with the demands of war. Also, as noted above, Rumanian deliveries to Germany had dropped off sharply in the last months of 1941, mainly as a result of depleted reserves and a quarrel with Germany over payment. At the beginning of December 1941, Marshal Antonescu had personally warned Hitler by telegram that, while he would do everything he could to increase deliveries, 'in the last five months we exported to Germany and Italy amounts greater than the monthly output of 125,000 tons fuel oil, which exhausted our available reserves'." Despite repeated assurances by Rumanian leaders that their nation 'would do everything possible to increase her deliveries to Germany',' it appeared unlikely in the first months of 1942 that supplies of Rumanian oil would ever return to the levels of mid 1941. Indeed, on 12 February Antonescu informed von Ribbentrop that 'as for crude oil, Rumania has contributed the maximum which it is in her power to contribute. She can give no more.' Alluding to the much discussed drive on the Caucasus, Antonescu added that 'the only way out of the situation would be to seize territories rich in oil."" This was certainly a compelling argument to use with the Navy. As noted above, Raeder was complaining as early as October 1941 to Hitler about the Navy's oil situation and had warned him on 12 December that it was now 'very critical'. By early 1942, the situation had deteriorated considerably, so that the Navy was, in the words of one writer, living 'hand to mouth'. " For example, the naval base in Piraeus had a stock of almost 11,000,000 litres of heating oil at the beginning of August 1941, but it had all gone by the end of the year. The dash of the Brest group through the English Channel and on to Norway had consumed 20,000 tons of fuel oil alone, and by 1 April the Navy's oil reserves had dropped to 150,000 tons. Fortunately for Raeder, the shortage of fuel did not greatly hamper the operations of Dรถnitz's U-boats which were still coming far nearer than any other Axis force to strangling the Allied war effort 195/258
because they operated on diesel oil and that was still in adequate supply. The oil shortage virtially immobilized not only the German surface fleet, but also that of the Italians. In December 1941 the Italian Navy had received 29,600 tons of fuel oil, instead of the 40,000 promised, and only 13,500 in January 1942. 'There is only one dark spot - the lack of oil', Ciano jotted in his diary on 8 February 1942. Just now we have barely a hundred thousand tons, and only a negligible quantity gets through to us from abroad. This immobilizes the Navy, particularly the large ships, which otherwise would enjoy total supremacy in the Mediterranean'." Part of the problem, he had claimed a month earlier, was that the Germans were (in Mussolini's words) 'highway robbers', taking for themselves 'the oil which was meant for us.' " The Luftwaffe was not quite as hard hit by the crisis as the other services, although in 1941 it had been forced to draw upon its reserves for more than 25 per cent of its consumption. As a result, the Luftwaffe's reserves of aviation fuel at the end of 1941 amounted to only 254,000 tons, which was a huge drop from the reserves of 613,000 tons at the end of the previous year." During the winter of 1941/42, when it became apparent that the Blitzkrieg had failed and that a prolonged war of attrition was inevitable, worried Luftwaffe planners (including Goring himself) urgently insisted that far larger amounts of aviation fuel would be needed. Accordingly, attempts were made to expand the output of existing synthetic fuel facilities - still the principal source of aviation fuel - and begin the construction of additional plants." Despite these efforts, increases in synthetic fuel production could not be achieved overnight, and by the spring of 1942 the shortage of refined aviation fuel was significantly restricting the Luftwaffe's training programme and preventing the renewal of an air offensive on anywhere near the scale of the Battle of Britain. The Luftwaffe's oil situation did not go unnoticed by Allied intelligence agencies. The British Air Ministry, by way of illustration, stated in a February 1942 intelligence report that, while there was little chance at present of the Luftwaffe 'being grounded for want of fuel and oil', there was every reason to believe that shortages of fuel would become 'more and more acute." Furthermore, despite German efforts to reduce oil consumption in order 'to stave off disaster ... without the Caucasus oil fields all this must be in vain so long as the Russian armies remain in being.' This was not the only mention of German's urgent need to seize the Caucasus oilfields. The report also stated that: the Russian campaign, which so greatly exceeded in scale any previous mechanized battles, has run down even the considerable stocks which Germany had last June to a level which is uncomfortably low, and the 'oil export' can at last lay his hand on his heart and say the Germans are likely to run out of oil before very long - unless they get the Caucasus without delay. Considering the potentially disastrous impact of these shortages on Germany's continued war effort, Hitler's plan to seize the Caucasus oilfields made perfect sense. These accounted for 'about 90% of oil produced in the Soviet Union'. In the light of the fact that the Soviet Union had extracted a staggering 34,200,000 tons of crude oil in 1940121 (more than the combined totals of Iran, Iraq, Rumania, Mexico and Indonesia122), it is clear that these oilfields had an immense output. Their total yield was no secret to the oil-hungry Hitler, who, in his ominiscient manner, told his dinner guests one evening that: 'statistics show that the Russians until quite recently obtained 92 per cent of their oil from the Caucasus." Early in 1942, Hitler argued persuasively that the seizure of these extremely rich oilfields would relieve Germany's critical shortages and enable it, if necessary, to continue fighting in a drawn-out war of attrition. The seizure of these geographically distant oilfields, although still within reach of British bombers based in Iraq (which were not, in any event, a danger in 1942), would also greatly offset the constant danger of Allied air attacks against the Ploesti plants in Rumania and its own synthetic fuel plants within the Reich itself. More importantly, Hitler declared, the severance of the various north-south railways between the oil and industrial regions and Moscow, the capture of the oilfields themselves and the blocking of the vital Volga river system (which carried not only oil but armaments and lend-lease supplies from Archangel) would be a massive, and probably mortal blow to the Soviet economy and war effort. The surviving documentation reveals that few OKW and OKH officers openly expressed doubts about the proposed campaign to seize the Caucasus oilfield, and that none actually challenged 196/258
Hitler on the feasibility of the plan. It may be, of course, that after the dismissal of von Brauchitsch and von Rundstedt, none were brave enough to risk the F체hrers wrath. It appears more likely, however, that Hitler's military advisers were in general agreement that, within the limited range of options available, his plan contained the most merit. Even Haider, who personally thought (but never made a strong case to the High Command125) that the eastern armies should maintain an essentially defensive posture for the time being, was apparently won over to the general plan. In response to the Navy's 'Suez Memorandum' of 3 April, which advocated the urgent capture of the Suez Canal by Rommel's forces, Halder emphatically stated to the OKH Naval Liaison Officer, Kapit채n zur See Konrad Weygold, that the conquest of the Caucasus was 'absolutely vital' for Germany's continued war effort.126 If the oilfield were not captured, 'the Reich will not survive long'. The Caucasus, he explained 'has more or less the same importance as Silesia once had for Prussia.' Having doubtless carefully studied the detailed briefings of the War Economy and Armaments Office, he knew that Germany's oil situation was critical. On 16 February, by way of illustration, this office had grimly warned, in its conclusion to a 16-page report on Germany's fuel situation that: One thing is now clear: without Russian oil we simply cannot utilize fully the regions of Russia we now occupy. But above all, without Russian oil the German war machine must from now on become increasingly more impotent. Indeed, as the year progressed it became increasingly evident to senior German planners that Hitler's emphasis on the capture of oil resources was well-founded. For example, on 6 June (three weeks before the start of the campaign), the OKW glumly reported that oil supplies throughout the rest of 1942 would be 'one of the weakest points in our defensive capabilities'. The significance of this comment is obvious; defensive actions require far less oil than offensive ones, so the situation must certainly have looked black. Because oil shortages were so critical, the report continued, 'the operational freedom of all three services will be restricted, and the armaments industry will also suffer. Reserves have been reduced almost to nothing, so we are now forced to rely on production." It appears that during this period there was little discussion between Hitler and his military advisers over the important question of how Caucasus oil was to be transported to the Reich. A quarter of a century earlier, this problem had also vexed Ludendorff and the German High Command, who never arrived at an adequate solution.129 The overworked F체rher may not even have realized the importance of this matter, considering it best simply to cross that bridge when he came to it. He had almost certainly not read the March 1941 report by Generalleutnant Hermann von Hanneken of the War Economy and War Armaments Office, which was appended to a letter sent by Keitel to the OKH. This report warned that, even if the Caucasus oilfields could be captured intact, very little oil (only 10,000 tons per month) could be carried overland to Germany. Moreover, even if the Black Sea could be made safe for shipping, there would be no ships available for the transport of Caucasus oil up the Danube because its river tankers were already working to capacity transporting Rumanian oil. The only remaining route was across the Black Sea, through the Dardenelles, and on to Mediterranean ports. Accordingly, the report concluded, 'the opening of the sea routes and the security of the tankers in the Black Sea is the prerequisite for the use of Russian supply sources in sufficient quantity to support the further continuation of the war.' Clearly, to attain this prerequisite was virtually impossible by early 1942; the Germans would have had to wipe out the powerful Soviet Black Sea Fleet (which still had, according to Raeder, 'naval supremacy ... [allowing] great freedom of movement") and eliminate British air and sea power from the eastern Mediterranean. Despite not considering how best to solve this logistics nightmare which never occurred, because the German Army captured only the already-destroyed Maikop oilfield - Hitler was well aware of the need to make the Black Sea safe for German shipping. However, both he and Raeder appear to have worried more about supplying German armies via the Black Sea than of shipping Caucasus oil back to the Reich or Rumanian refineries.133 When planning the forthcoming campaign, both Hitler and the German High Command placed considerable emphasis on the need to advance on the Caucasus oilfields so rapidly that the Soviets would not have time to destroy the oil wells and refineries permanently. If the latter were 197/258
destroyed, the bulk of the oil would have to be refined elsewhere until new refineries could be constructed. Only Rumanian refineries, which still had a considerable surplus refinement capacity,134 could handle large quantities of additional crude, but (for the reasons mentioned above) it would be extremely difficult to ship significant amounts of oil from the Caucasus to Rumania. An 'Oil Detachment Caucaus' had been formed a year earlier, in the spring of 1941, when the capture of the oilfields was still a principal objective of the forthcoming attack on the Soviet Union. Its purpose was to repair damaged wells and refineries quickly so that exploitation of the oilfields could be commenced as soon as possible. In early 1942, when the capture of the oilfield became the objective of the forthcoming attack, this detachment was expanded considerably and renamed the 'Oil Brigade Caucasus'. The expansion was necessary because recent experiences in Ukraine and the Donets Basin indicated that the Caucaus oilfields would probably not be captured before at least some attempts were made to destroy existing wells and refineries. As a result, this unusual paramilitary force was brought to a strength of 10,794, issued with 1,142 vehicles and six aircraft and ordered to stand by, ready to move into the Caucaus oilfield immediately behind the combat troops. On 28 March, after a lengthy period of discussion, the OKH presented Hitler with a plan for the Caucasus offensive - to be code-named Fall Blau, or Case BLUE - which closely paralleled his wishes.136 Hitler gave his endorsement to the basic concepts of the plan, and turned it over to the OKW operations staff to write an implementing directive. After he 'drastically amended' the draft Jodl submitted to him,137 War Directive 41 was finally issued on 5 April. 'The winter battle in Russia', Hitler proudly stated in the preamble, 'is approaching its end. Through the unequalled courage and self-sacrificing devotion of our soldiers on the Eastern Front, a defensive success of the greatest scale has been achieved for German arms.138 While this was certainly a fair and accurate appraisal, the following passage shows that he either misunderstood or deliberately misrepresented the fighting capability of the Soviet armed forces. 'The enemy', he wrote, 'has suffered the severest losses in men and matĂŠriel. In an effort to exploit apparent initial successes, he has expended during the winter the bulk of his reserves earmarked for later operations.' Spelling out the aim of the new offensive, he declared that 'as soon as the weather and the state of the terrain provide the necessary prerequisites', it was important once again to seize the strategic initiative and, through German military superiority, 'force our will upon the enemy'. The objective this time was not only to wipe out the remaining Soviet military potential, but also to 'deprive them of their most important militaryeconomic sources of strength.' The general plan involved Army Group Centre holding fast, while an effort would be made to 'bring about the fall of Leningrad and link up with the Finns north of the city', and, in the region of Army Group South, a major campaign would be launched into the Caucasus. Nothing was said about Moscow. Clearly it could wait. Because of the damage inflicted upon the eastern army in the winter months, these objectives (Leningrad and the Caucasus) would 'have to be achieved only one at a time.' Initially, therefore, all available forces are to be assembled for the main operation in the southern sector, with the objective of destroying the enemy forward of the Don, in order to secure the oil regions of the Caucasus and the passes through the Caucasus [mountain range] itself. Before the major offensive into the Caucasus could commence, the directive stated, it would be necessary 'to clear the Kerch Peninsula in the Crimea and to bring about the fall of Sevastopol.' In preparation for this campaign, the Luftwaffe and later the Kriegsmarine would have the task of 'energetically hindering enemy supply traffic in the Black Sea and the Kerch Straits.' The insistence on these time-consuming preliminary operations in the Crimea reveals that Hitler still believed that the Crimea would have to be 'neutralized' entirely in order to protect Rumanian oilfields permanently from Soviet bombers. This view, it should be noted, was not only shared by General-oberst von Manstein,139 whose battered Eleventh Army would have to do the fighting in the Crimea, but also by Generaloberst Alexander LĂśhr, whose air fleet (Luftflotte IV) would have to support von Manstein's ground assault.140. Perhaps more importantly, it was also shared by Marshal Antonescu, whose oilfields and refineries had been attacked as many as 95 times since 22 June 1941 by Soviet twinengined bombers based around Odessa. These attacks were generally weak and ineffec198/258
tual, thanks to substantial German air defences around the oilfields and refineries (when BARBAROSSA began there were no less fewer than 24 heavy and numerous light Flak batteries around Ploesti alone). The presence and quantity of these forces, which included strong fighter units, reflects Hitler's deep concern over the safety of his main source of oil. Although one author recently stated that oil production was 'unaffected' by these air attacks,143 on several occasions they caused significant damage and heightened fears for the fields' safety. On 13 July 1941, for example, a raid left 17 oil tanks ablaze at Ploesti's Orion refinery. Although the fires were extinguished within 24 hours and around 12,000 tons of oil were saved, this attack caused considerable damage and losses and claimed the lives of seven firemen. In total, 9,000 tons of oil and 17 Kesselwagen were destroyed in various raids against the Orion refinery alone.144 Ploesti's Vega refinery was another frequent target and on one occasion, the night of 18 July 1941, an attack resulted in the loss of around 2,000 tons of much-needed motor fuel.145 These attacks would have greatly reinforced Hitler's belief that the Rumanian oilfields were highly vulnerable to air attack and that the Crimea - the only feasible base for Soviet long-range bomber fleets after the loss of Ukraine - would have to be 'neutralized' entirely in order to protect those oilfields from possible destruction. After neutralizing the Crimea, Hitler's War Directive 41 stated, the main campaign could begin. Curiously, in the light of the fact that the campaign has come to be associated with the name of that city, the capture of Stalingrad was actually not a major objective. It was certainly considered by Hitler to be far less important than the oilfields. The directive stated only that an attempt should be made 'to reach' Stalingrad, 'or at least to subject this city to the bombardment of our heavy weapons to such an extent that it is eliminated as an armament and transportation centre in the future.' As the historian Gerhard Weinberg points out, it is ironic that 'the place whose name will always be associated with one of the great battles of World War II was largely ignored by the Germans beforehand and renamed Volgograd by the Soviet Union afterwards." Hitler was optimistic about the coming offensive and, although he could give away none of his plans, was determined to inspire the German people and his Axis partners into supporting another major drive to the east. On 26 April 1942, three weeks after issuing the directive for the campaign, he confidently announced before the Reichstag that 'a world struggle was decided during the winter', and, contrasting at length his own persistence and Napoleon's disastrous retreat from Moscow in 1812, boasted that 'we have mastered the destiny that broke another man 130 years ago." The Wehrmacht, he added, had passed its terrible trial in Russia and was ready to move forward again. This year Stalin's evil rĂŠgime would be destroyed once and for all. This widely-transmitted speech to the Reichstag was well received by most sections of German society. It also had a positive effect on the Hungarians and Rumanians, who were, for reasons of national prestige, still enthusiastic about participating in the struggle to destroy Bolshevism. The war-weary Italians, whose military successes had been few and relatively insigificant, were generally unimpressed. It had 'a depressing effect in Italy', noted Ciano, who personally felt its tone was 'not very optimistic'. Mussolini, on the other hand, was inspired by the speech, privately calling it 'excellent and strong'. Three days after Hitler gave this speech, he met both Ciano and Mussolini at Klessheim Castle in Salzburg. Ciano was struck by how old Hitler appeared, and noted in his diary that 'He is strong, determined, and talkative; but he is tired. The winter months in Russia have weighed heavily upon him. I see for the first time that he has many grey hairs.' While the FĂźhrer talked privately to Mussolini ('Hitler talks, talks, talks, talks - Mussolini suffers'), it was left to Ribbentrop to explain to Ciano the nature of the campaign outlined in Hitler's directive of 5 April. Ribbentrop, pointing out the great economic gains to be made, stressed the campaign's 'politico-military objective' and insisted that 'When Russia's sources of oil are exhausted she will be brought to her knees." During a top-level military conference held at the Berghof the following day, Hitler made the same point to Mussolini.150 German forces, he said, already occupy the Soviets' main agricultural areas. As a result 'the Russians in the central regions must have terrible nourishment difficul199/258
ties, a problem exacerbated by the confiscation of tractors for military purposes.' 'The strangulation of the civilian sector of Soviet society', he continued, must directly influence the military sector. To start with, based on existing supplies the Russian must have adequate nourishment to survive another five months. But his harvest this year cannot be brought in and distributed before October. This, he told Mussolini, was the decisive factor: 'If we now succeed in cutting him off from his oil, his traffic must grind to a standstill.'
Conclusion The preliminary campaign (to clear the Crimea of Soviet forces) commenced on 8 May and was brought to a successful conclusion on 3 July. Hitler breathed a sigh of relief; the Crimea was entirely in German hands and the Rumanian oilfields, his major source of oil, were safe from air attack for at least the near future. Meanwhile, on 28 June the main campaign to seize the Caucasus oilfields had been launched and initially, to Hitler's great delight, made startling progress. The Volga river north of Stalingrad was reached by soldiers of the Northern Army Group on 23 August, allowing them to sever the Soviet's main north-south supply and communication route. Stalingrad, not as yet a main objective, seemed certain to fall within a month. On 9 August, German troops of the Southern Army Group had even overrun Maikop, the closest of the Caucasus oilfields. Although it had been badly damaged by retreating Soviets, some wells were reparable. By late October, Hitler seemed very close to victory. However, his Southern Army Group's attempts to push past Pyatigorsk and secure the passes through the main Caucausus range to the far richer oilfields in the south were repeatedly thwarted. He had men while become obsessed with the capture of Stalingrad, and the success of a massive Soviet counterattack there in November placed the encircled German Sixth Army and elements of the Fourth Panzer Army in grave danger of destruction. In December the Soviet Transcaucasus Front also went over to the offensive and throughout January and February the German troops still in the Caucasus were forced to conduct a perilous and difficult withdrawal through Rostov in order to avoid encirclement. Even Maikop, the only oilfield captured by the Germans, had to be abandoned. Except for the Seventeenth Army's defensive line on the Taman Peninsula, which was successfully stormed by the Soviets in September 1943, there were now no Germans in the Caucasus. The Caucasus oilfield had slipped from Hitler's grip and would never again be in direct danger. Things were much worse for the Sixth Army at Stalingrad. Attempts to supply it from the air failed and, at the end of January 1943, the commander of this once mighty army ordered his frost-bitten and starving men to lay down their arms. Almost 140,000 Germans had perished at Stalingrad, and of approximately 91,000 taken prisoner only 6,000 or so survived captivity. This analysis reveals that the disastrous campaign was, from its very conception, the result of perceived economic necessity. Its planning was, to a far greater degree than that of any other German military undertaking of the Second World War, significantly influenced by economic considerations. The F端hrers directive of 5 April 1942 committed the German armed forces for the first time to a massive offensive with economic objectives taking precedence over strictly military ones. Hitler was well aware that his strategy was a departure from traditional military theory, but reasoned that, unlike Clausewitz, who wrote his most influential works on military theory in the 1820s, he commanded mechanized armies in a war between major industrialized nations. He knew that the economic resources (including manpower, raw materials and fuel) of the growing list of nations he now faced greatly exceeded Germany's. The Reich's economic potential for waging prolonged warfare had never been high, but now, after two years of war, it had deteriorated significantly. As his economic advisers constantly pointed out, the campaign against the Soviet Union had cost Germany dearly in terms of manpower and raw materials and had consumed massive amounts of oil. Unless he succeeded in both defending his main existing source of oil from Soviet air attack and in capturing new and substantial sources he was incapable of waging a protracted war of economic attrition. On the other hand, he believed, if his campaign succeeded it would not only relieve the terrible shortage of oil products currently experienced but also deliver a massive, possibly mortal, blow to the Soviet war economy. It needs to be said, of course, that the dire predictions of Hitler and his economic advisers in 200/258
1941 and 1942 about the certain collapse of the German war machine if no new sources of oil were obtained proved to be exaggerated. The German war effort did not grind to a halt when the campaign to capture the Caucasus oilfields failed. Although Germany's oil situation remained acute, and became desperate after the Allied air offensive against its synthetic fuel plants and the Rumanian oilfields began, the Reich continued fighting until May 1945. In fact, despite the total failure of the 1942 campaign, events in 1943 actually led to a slight improvement in the oil situation. First, when Italy defected from the Axis in September it ceased to be a drain on Germany's near-exhausted reserves. Secondly, when German forces in Italy responded to this defection and rapidly disarmed their former allies they captured surprisingly large stocks of oil. Thirdly, Germany's synthetic fuel industry, not yet targeted by Allied bombers, reached a production peak. Accordingly, the oil shortages which had bedevilled the Wehrmacht's efforts throughout the previous two years appeared far less critical. The Luftwaffe was even able to build up its meagre reserves slightly for the first time since the beginning of the Russian campaign. In May 1944, however, the USAAF's strategic bombing force began concentrating its efforts against both the German synthetic fuel plants and the Rumanian oilfields and refineries. Raids on the latter targets were greatly facilitated by the use of bases in southern Italy. Despite high aircraft and crew losses, these efforts paid off handsomely for the Allies, who learned from 'Ultra' decrypts that many plants suffered production decreases or were put out of action altogether. By late summer Germany's oil supplies were seriously depleted. In May, by way of illustration, 316,000 tons of synthetic fuel were produced in Germany. The following month production fell to 107,000 tons, and in September it plummeted to a mere 17,000. As a result, the Luftwaffe received only 30,000 tons of petrol that month, instead of its normal 180,000 tons.154 Its training programmes suffered terribly, with many pilot-training schools shutting down for lack of fuel. The mobility of the mechanized forces was also significantly curtailed. For the Ardennes campaign in December, Germany's last major offensive action of the war, the armoured formations had very meagre fuel reserves (and these were created only by robbing fuel from forces not involved). Hitler was gambling on their ability to capture American stocks. With the failure of this endeavour and powerful Allied armies pressing in from west, east and south it was clear that Germany would not survive much longer. Thus Germany's ability to wage war did not dissolve with the failure of the Caucasus campaign, as the F端hrer and his economists had previously believed. Having said that, it should also be noted that neither Hitler nor his military planners could forecast with certainty the future course of the war nor, therefore, accurately calculate the future oil consumption of Germany's armed forces. Frequent evaluations in 1941 and 1942 by the War Economy and Armaments Office, based on careful and detailed analyses of past production, import and consumption rates, clearly revealed that once oil reserve stocks were exhausted it would no longer be possible to offset the significant shortage of oil. Germany's war machine would rapidly grind to a halt. These grim conclusions were repeatedly presented to Hitler and the High Command in the form of detailed reports. Their claims, we saw above, were seemingly corroborated by commanders in the field and even senior service chiefs such as Raeder, who complained constantly that the mobility or operational capability of their forces had deteriorated because of decreases in their oil supplies. History has exposed the inaccurancy of the warnings the Nazi leader received from his economists, but at that time they seemed both credible and compelling. Hitler, aware by December 1941 that he now faced a prolonged war against the world's two economic giants the Soviet Union and the United States, felt that he had no real option but to embark on a campaign which would, if successful, greatly enhance his ability to continue waging that war.
Defensive Operations (Die Verteidigung) Defensive operations are very frequent. For the armor formation, however, the defense merely provides the framework for the operational situation. How can that be understood? In the defense the armor commander also operates by attacking (if necessary, with a part of his forces) to achieve the decision! That requires: 201/258
• • • • • • • •
Holding back a portion of his forces Steering the enemy into terrain that is unfavorable to him Painstaking reconnaissance of the terrain and Foresighted issuing of orders. Prerequisites for leading one's own counterattack are: Blocking, wearing down and delaying the enemy Holding important sectors of the terrain (preferably by other troops) Preserving one's own combat strength and Local superiority.
Commitment of forces The fewer the forces that are in actual static commitment—meaning in blocking positions or in defensive areas—the greater will be the opportunities for operating with those forces that are not engaged but are held ready in concealed positions. The usual goal is to keep at least a third of the tanks mobile and available.
Preparing for combat Since the initiative is initially with the enemy, it is necessary to employ the defending forces in a far-sighted fashion. To that end it is desirable to avoid letting the enemy prematurely discover the disposition of one's own forces through aerial or ground reconnaissance or through radio intelligence. The defender fights from (blocking) positions and defensive areas or conducts counterattacks with mobile forces that have been held back. In order to avoid points on the ground that may remain undefended due to different missions by neighboring formations, so-called coordination points (Anschlusspunkte) are designated. The elements there can consist of individual tanks or attached Panzergrenadiere, usually in squad strength or, in exceptional cases, in platoon strength. Duties at the coordination point are: • Maintaining contact with forces in neighbor-* ing sectors • Keeping neighbors informed about the situation in its own sector and • Observing and reporting changes near the boundary with the neighbor. They can also perform the mission of guarding gaps or the area between the adjoining troop units. Coordination points are defended. If specific orders are not issued, the basic rule is that the troop unit committed on the left is responsible for occupying the coordination point. If possible, there should be wire communications with the other forces. Signals operating instructions and frequencies are exchanged.
Blocking positions Armored fighting vehicles fight from a blocking position if key terrain must be held in order to break the weight of an attack by superior forces or to establish the prerequisites for a subsequent operation. In contrast to area defense, it has only a limited depth. The tanks are mostly in static commitment, which diminishes their striking power. Since they will be die target of considerable enemy fire, especially indirect fire, the positions must be improved. For that purpose so-called hull-down positions (Panzer-stande) are excavated that give the tank extensive protection to the front and sides against direct fire and against shrapnel from indirect fire. The height of the earthen side walls allows the turret to traverse freely. The tank must be able to leave the position to the rear rapidly and concealed. The concept of positioning includes the placement of the individual tank just as properly as that of a platoon or even the entire company. In exceptional situations the entire battalion may be in a linear position. In that case the additional concept of massed fire (Feuerfront) applies. As far as command and control goes, each tank fights within one of several platoon positions. The company coordinates the action of its subordinate platoons. It includes the platoon positions, concealed positions, security and the company command post. A platoon position should have a minimum width of about 200 meters. Company positions range in width from about 1,000 to 1,500 meters and have a depth of about 500 meters. 202/258
Defensive area (verteidigungsraum) The term indicates that the defense will be conducted flexibly and in depth. The front of the defensive area is bounded by the forward edge of the battle area or by the main battle line (Hauptkampflinie). Security forces (Sicherungskrafte) are positioned forward of the defense area. Doctrinally a reinforced battalion can occupy a defensive area with a width of about 5,000 meters and a depth of at least 3,000 meters. The defensive area comprises the company positions, an area for the reserve, the location of the combat trains (GefechtstroB) and the battalion command post. If the company position has depth (500 meters or more), then it is also known as a defensive position (Stellungsraum). The routes from the reserve position to the company positions are carefully reconnoitered in case reinforcement is required. Prepared positions in the rear (Auffangstellungen) can be determined in the depth of the defense area as well as areas into which counterattacks could be conducted. A company is usually held in reserve. Within the platoon position every tank position and alternate position is arranged so that the fields of fire overlap and complement each other. The tank commanders and the tank drivers know the routes from the hide position (gedeckte Aufstellung) to the fighting positions.
The individual tank fighting position There are three basic kinds of positions: • Open (exposed) • Hull-down (teilgedeckt) • Concealed (versteckt) As the name suggests, the exposed position is the least favorable because the tank is not protected against either observation or fire. From such a position the firefight is only taken up if no cover is at hand or if the enemy forces one to open fire immediately from the halt because of the danger he presents. The tank fights from a concealed position in order to take advantage of cover that the terrain offers and to escape enemy observation through camouflage. Branches and such cannot interfere with the action of the tank's weapons. Concealed positions may lie at the edge of woods, in vegetation and at the outskirts of a village or town (for example, in barns and large sheds). The tank is not protected against enemy fire in a concealed position. The hull-down position is generally the most favorable for the tank, since it is protected up to its main gun. It is ideal if additional brush or similar obscuring material can offer concealment as well. Hull-down positions generally are found: • On the crest of a hill, if it is not elevated against the horizon • Behind railroad and road embankments and wall and • Behind manmade cover. It is advantageous if the tank can enter the position under cover, without dust clouds and with little engine noise. On occupying a position the crew work closely together so that; • The tank is not on a cant, if that is possible, and • It initially only drives close enough to the edge of the cover so that the tank commander can observe the terrain with onboard optics, binoculars or the naked eye. (Such a position can also be called an observation halt or Beobachtungshalt.) If action is required from that position, the tank moves further forward until the gunner has a clear field of view through his telescopic sight. He tells the driver when to halt. Since the telescopic sight is even with the cannon, that ensures the muzzle of the cannon is clear of the cover and will not fire into it. If the tank remains in a position for a longer period of time, or if it occupies the position from a concealed position after it is alerted, the position should be marked with stakes both in front of the tank and on one side. This has the advantage of ensuring the position can be occupied without a problem, even during darkness. The commander prepares a range card (Entfernungss-
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pinne). For that he takes bearings on conspicuous terrain features in the area (e.g., buildings, intersections, isolated trees) that he has been ordered to operate in and observe. With die reticule in his binoculars or a scissors telescope (Scherenfernrohr) and the help of a map, he works out die distances to those points. He enters them on the sketch and also enters the turret deflection readings from the turret position pointer. If the tank also has a gunner's quadrant available, then the elevation of the gun is also entered. The range card is advantageous in that whenever the enemy is located in the vicinity of one of the designated terrain features he can be acquired more rapidly and with the correct range setting. If the elevation and deflection are determined and if the enemy is located in the precise area that has been plotted, then the gun can be directed exactly at those target points, even at night. On a clear, bright night (or with fires in the target area) targets can be taken under fire.
The tank platoon position The platoon leader establishes primary and alternate fighting positions so that: • If possible, the tanks are able to fight from hull-down positions • Positions can be occupied and changed without being observed by the enemy • Good observation and fields of fire are possible and • Overlapping fires are possible with the adjoining platoons If possible, alternate positions are reconnoi-tered. They are occupied if the firefight can no longer be carried on from the previous position or if ground is captured or has to be given up. Alternate positions must be chosen so that the tank can escape enemy fire and renew the firefight using surprise from the new position. The company commander orders changes in position for entire platoons. The platoon leader determines changes in position for individual tanks within the assigned sector of terrain so that the maximum number of barrels are always engaging the enemy and a mission-oriented use of the area is assured. Individual tanks change position on their own if: • They can no longer effectively engage the enemy or • If they are threatened with destruction. Change of position must always be reported.
Company fighting positions or defensive areas The company commander decides what forces he will employ in the firefight from the forward positions and what forces he will keep concealed. In so doing he preserves freedom of action and prevents his forces from being prematurely attrited. Forces in covered positions occupy their positions when ordered if they are to join the firefight. According to doctrine, the tank platoon is then committed as a unit. The company commander orders his forces to occupy the reconiioitered positions in such a manner that local fire superiority can be attained and the enemy can be engaged with rapid fire.
Selection of positions Decisive mistakes can be made in the selection of the positions. Basically, one's own mission must first be evaluated and the enemy's probable courses of action considered. First consideration does not go to favorable disposition and finding cover. Instead, first consideration must go to the best opportunities for effective action. A position with good potential observation for several kilometers forward permits opening fire over an extensive distance but also permits the enemy to reconnoiter his objective from far beyond the range of friendly weapons. As a result, the field of fire in front of friendly positions should not exceed the range of one's weapons (1,0002,000 meters and correspondingly less at night). It was especially common among Soviet attack formations that they held their artillery forces close up for immediate support and started taking enemy tanks under fire at distances of 4,000 to 5,000 meters. Positions at the edges of a wood line, the outskirts of a town or on hills are similarly problematical. Tanks positioned there are very easily spotted by reconnaissance and can be suppressed with artillery fire. During that time they are limited in their effectiveness and can be bypassed 204/258
easily. It is always desirable that the enemy runs into positions and is shot up with a high probability of hits within the effective range of the guns. If the enemy bunches up and directs all his attention in one direction, then fire called in from a flanking position with a well-timed delay can cause great confusion or even panic. It is clear from that example that success largely depends on opening fire at the right time. If it comes too soon or is uncoordinated, then the enemy will be left with ways to escape the critical situation. It follows that positions must be chosen so that the enemy's approach and exit routes can be covered with fire. Errors in selection of the position that were discussed earlier will be avoided if every combat mission in the position is also constantly linked in the orders with a selected objective (for example: "First platoon occupies a position south of the hollow so that the enemy can be destroyed before reaching the intersection.") In a certain phase of the firefight the company commander puts his entire emphasis on the fastest possible destruction of the enemy who has arrived at the position. In so doing he ensures the enemy cannot pass on any accurate reconnaissance and renew the assault after taking minimal losses. It costs less in overall casualties to hold positions, then retaking them in a counterattack. If the enemy pressure becomes too great or threatens a penetration, the company commander uses the depth of the area assigned to him to surprise the enemy with fire from more favorable positions. In order to take advantage of favorable situations, the company commander launches fast, powerful counterassaults in order to: • Destroy enemy units that have advanced • Surprise enemy units that have penetrated in the flank or • Recapture positions that have been lost. A tank platoon carries out counterattacks on its own initiative if, for example, the enemy has already been battered or can be surprised. Such counterattacks are usually only launched over limited distances (500 to 2,000 meters).
Counterattacks (gegenangriffe) The preeminent role of tanks in the defense is in counterattack. When possible, counterattacks should be planned in advance and launched when the situation develops favorably. Such counterattacks must be painstakingly planned and reconnoitered so that they can be carried out within a matter of minutes. The various counterattack courses of action are identified with code names and can be initiated over the radio. Such counterattacks have limited objectives and do not, ordinarily, extend beyond the boundaries of one's own positional areas. The execution follows the fundamentals of the hasty attack (Sofortangriff), as described above under the meeting engagement (Begegnungsgefecht). The counterassault (Gegenstofi) offers a contrast to the counterattack (Gegenangriff). It differs from the counterattack in that it is not planned ahead. It is, instead, frequently carried out with available forces on the initiative of the local commander in response to a critical development of the situation in order to repulse an enemy who has penetrated. The use of the GegenstoB in defense was always a particular strength of German troops in combat and often made it possible to turn the tables in an almost hopeless situation against vastly superior enemy forces.
Relief (ablosung) The tank company relieves other forces on order or is, itself, relieved. Careful preparation is the prerequisite for a rapid relief that is not noticed by the enemy. Restricted conditions of visibility favor the relief. The relieving troops are attached to the commander of the troops being relieved until the relief is completed. After receiving the order for relief, exchanging radio signals instructions and handing over obstacle plans, the tactical commander controls the details necessary for the relief, such as: • Liaison • Relief sequence • Start and end of the relief • Sequence of movement • Mission after successful completion of the relief
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• Chain of command • Measures for security, support and logistics and •* Time for issuing the order During the course of the relief in a position, the nature and scope of the measures depend on whether the relieving unit is replacing a unit similar in ground organization and troop composition to itself. Relief usually takes place by companies. The company commanders establish contact using an advance party (Vorkommando). If possible this is done when visibility is sufficient. Depending on the situation and previous mission, the platoon leaders accompany the advance party. After coordinating with the troops to be relieved, the company commander determines a point on the ground at which his company will be met by guides. The company is guided in from there. Following that, he has the local commander brief him regarding: • Terrain • Defensive plans • Enemy situation • Obstacles and • Other details (e.g., alert arrangements, wire communications, supply points) He continually monitors the: • Condition of the fighting and hide positions • Location and mission of the security forces • Sectors of observation and fields of fire • Combat support availability and • Location and extent of obstacles. After that, along with the commander of the troops that are being relieved, he regulates: • Sequence of the relief • Route for the arrival at and departure from the positions • Which platoons are relieving and in what place • Time at which all units are to switch to the new frequencies and • Actions to be taken in conjunction with the troops that are being relieved in case the enemy attacks during the relief. If there is insufficient time to coordinate every-diing, the troops that are being relieved can leave a rear party (Nachkommando). The rear party remains at the disposal of the relieving troops to brief them. If there is enough time and if the enemy situation permits, a timely, phased relief that maintains the highest possible readiness for combat is die desired goal. A nearby assembly area is established for the arriving tank company from which the platoons can be individually called up. If time is pressing, a relief can be carried out with all platoons simultaneously. The company commander passes on the results of the agreement between the commanders and rives the order for the relief. Each platoon leader gets together with the platoon leader whom he relieves. From a location where he has a view of the terrain he has himself briefed on the: • Hide position • Location and fields of fire of the positions and the routes to them « Location of the security forces and how the alarm is given • Low-visibility position (Nachtaufstellung) « Details for the conduct of fire, as well as « Obstacles to be handed over or covered. He takes over his predecessor's system of naming terrain features, reference points (Rich-tungspunkte), markings and signals. The platoon leader usually briefs his tank commanders with respect to the mission and course of the relief in the nearby assembly area. Then he leads the platoon by a covered route to the area of the position. The individual tank commanders get together on foot with the tank commanders they are relieving. They discuss the relief with them or the platoon leader himself briefs them on the position. In the course of those discussions it is especially important they should be briefed on: • Terrain • Fields of fire and observation 206/258
• Control of the conduct of fire as well as • Missions and positions of adjoining units Normally the platoon leader first orders the relief of the forces in the hide position, then those in the fighting positions and, finally, the elements in outposts. If there are demolition guards (Sprengsicher-ungskommandos), their orders and target folders are assumed by the relieving force. The completion of the relief is always reported to the next highest commander. If the relief is achieved through offensive action, personal contact with the battalion and company commander is often impossible. Details of the plans for the operation must be exchanged by radio with the troops that are to be relieved. Shortly before approaching the forces to be relieved, radio contact must be established on their radio net. The company commanders discuss the approach routes as well as the support that will be provided by the troops in position. The troops that have been relieved withdraw along the allotted march routes or assemble in an assembly area for the time being. During the relief fighting continues. The company commander remains at his former position and is among the last to leave. Platoons that have already been relieved ready themselves for renewed forward commitment in the event of an enemy attack. If necessary, a rear party remains behind for a limited time period,
The missions of the reserve Those forces that are held ready in a concealed area - if possible, beyond the range of direct-fire weapons - constitute the so-called reserves. They must be under unified command, maintain a high degree of combat readiness and, within a few moments, be able to carry out the following tasks: • Conduct local immediate counterassaults (Gegenstofie) • Interdict enemy elements which have broken through • Block threatened penetrations • Reinforce/relieve the elements holding fighting position and • Conduct planned and/or reconnoitered counterattacks In so doing they must avoid fragmented commitment offerees. In most instances a unified commitment is faster and harder hitting. The reserve is tied up for less time and more rapidly available. If reserves are committed, then it must be the objective of the formation commander to form a new reserve by withdrawing troops from other locations. Generally, no reserve is formed at the company level. The reinforcement of a fighting position, however, is often only a limited reaction to an opponent who has already been successful. In most cases containment also results in intermeshing of the lines. In most situations, reserves become tied up for an unforeseeable period of time and, possibly, attrited. Only the counterattack, with its higher degree of planning, ensures that the reserve is only tied up for a short period of time. In addition, it usually suffers fewer casualties.
Course of the defensive operation At first the leading enemy forces run into the forces of the security troops. They report the enemy in a timely manner and also take up the firefight, if they do not have orders to immediately pull back. The initial encounter is extremely delicate, since an intermeshing with a vastly superior enemy conceals in itself the danger that the security force may not be able to disengage from the enemy in a timely manner and may be destroyed. Conversely, the enemy desires to locate the fighting positions of the troops quickly so as to effectively direct his fire support. The security force must therefore repulse the enemy reconnaissance so it does not run into the actual defense positions and thus gain valuable information. It would be ideal if one could meet the enemy in the security line (Sicherungslinie) with determined resistance so that the brakes are put on the momentum of his attack and he is forced to broad deployment. One can also achieve that with obstacles laid
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well forward and through the use of artillery. As a result, forward observers are assigned to the security forces, after which they then go back to the troops in the fighting positions. Since fighting in the security line may become quite intense, reserves may be assigned that mission. They then can have a certain amount of time to recover in their assembly area after they are pulled back. Fighting in the security line can also take place with elements heavy in combat power in socalled forward defensive positions (vorgeschobene Stellun-gen). In that case, larger elements, sometimes even entire companies, may be committed which are in a position to hold the enemy for a longer period of time. That tactic is also the reason why the Soviets regularly carried out feints with as much as a battalion. Even if they could not force the security forces back, they could at least determine their positions so that the follow-on attack with the main body could be more effective. As the war continued and Soviet superiority increased, especially in indirect fire, the German defense had to evacuate forward positions immediately before the onset of preparatory fire. If the enemy artillery fire then adjusted to the depths of the defensive area too soon, it was possible to reoc-cupy the forward positions before the enemy reached them. At the division level and above, that kind of defensive operation was called fighting in major battle positions (Kampf aus GroBkampfstellungen). After the security forces committed in front of the defensive area have been pulled back, the objective is to seriously weaken the enemy when he runs into the forward positions. German experience thoroughly supports the validity of that principle. If the forward positions were abandoned too quickly, the attacker kept his momentum and often what could have been an orderly withdrawal was turned into a hasty flight. Once the defense reacts in such a fashion under pressure then there is usually no holding the rear positions. On the contrary, the withdrawal to subsequent positions should take place at a moment when the enemy has been successfully repulsed and has to regroup or bring up fresh forces. If the withdrawal takes place unnoticed, then when the enemy renews the attack, it falls on thin air— particularly the artillery preparation. The moment when the enemy is brought to a halt in front of friendly positions can also be particularly good for a counterassault (GegenstoB). If friendly forces are forced back into the depth of the defense area (Verteidigungsraum), then the objective must be to force the worn-down enemy back before he gains control over the entire area. Otherwise, the objective of the defense fails and one has merely delayed the enemy attack. If the enemy is able to assault through the rear boundary of the defense area, he can only be intercepted with operational reserves. For that reason, during the course of the war the defensive areas became ever deeper in order to be able to withstand the greatly superior enemy. It may also be necessary to defend so-called key terrain (Schlusselgelande) by every means, including the risk of encirclement. In such a situation the defender hopes to deny the enemy control over the area, pin strong forces and have favorable opportunities for launching counterattacks. In the individual positions, fire should be opened at the most opportune moment. If obstacles have been emplaced in front of the position, it is best to wait until the first tank runs on the mines and (he rest halt. Massed fire at that moment reinforces the feeling of insecurity that has been awakened in the enemy. If flanking obstacles have been laid, then it is best to open fire before the enemy runs on to them in order to achieve the blocking effect when the enemy changes direction. Obstacles, therefore, are not primarily to stop the enemy. Rather they should direct him into areas where one can be especially effective with fire. For that reason many defense areas are also developed into a so-called Panzersack (an engagement area in modern terminology). In the center of the defensive area ground is freely given up for a time (and, hopefully, inconspicuously) in order to entice the enemy into a position where one will also have forces on his growing flanks. It is desirable that those flanking forces have not opened fire up to that point. If the enemy is deployed and proceeds to run frontally against the rearward positions, then fire is suddenly and massively opened from three sides with especially destructive effect. Above all, the objective must be to establish fire superiority in the shortest possible time so as to able to drive back into cover or change position. The enemy's follow-on indirect fire is then inef208/258
fective. For that reason it is especially important to open fire at the right moment. If fire is opened too early, at too great a distance and in penny-packet amounts, it has no crippling effect on the enemy and he has the opportunity to react. That is why the effective range (Hauptkampfentfernung) is discussed. At that distance the weapons are highly effective and have a high probability of hitting their targets. For tank guns that was, originally, about 600 to 800 meters. With the introduction of the Panther and Tiger it rose from 800 to 1,000 meters and beyond. Defensive fighting demands effective allocation of targets to avoid doubling up on the same one. Right from the initiation of fire some weapons select targets that have been identified farther back among the approaching enemy so as to prevent those from being able to provide cover, hit command vehicles and prevent a follow-up assault by the enemy. If enemy superiority is too great, individual positions will be bypassed and forces will have to pull back. When that happens it is extremely important those movements be coordinated with adjoining troops. Otherwise forces holding positions that have been successful in their defense may be forced to withdraw for no other reason than that neighboring positions were abandoned too early and have become a threat to the flanks. Such situations also call for careful study to see whether they offer a situation favorable for one's own forces to make a flank attack and thus negate a withdrawal or allow the abandoned positions to be retaken. Enemy forces that advance too briskly or carelessly can be destroyed in this manner. Especially when fighting in the depths of the defense area, it is necessary to maintain continual close cooperation with other forces. Frequently it is impossible to withdraw all at once to the next position. The withdrawal can then be made in leapfrog fashion (iiberschlagender Einsatz), according to a basic rule: "No movement without fire protection" ("Keine Bewegung ohne Uberwachung.") If an envelopment or encirclement threatens, it must be reported. Nevertheless, the current position must be held. That is especially important if other elements are supposed to be committed in a counterattack. If destruction threatens and there is no contact with the battalion, then it may be necessary to break out on one's own initiative. In so doing it becomes a matter of keeping one's forces tightly concentrated and assaulting as a massed body decisively in a single direction.
Special conditions relatibg to defense at night Night and conditions of limited visibility offer the defender better opportunities, if he has planned his commitment with purpose and foresight. It is frequently worth considering different terrain for positions in such conditions and shifting the tank platoons from so-called day positions to night positions. During daytime, slightly elevated positions usually offer an advantage. However, it is different at night. Then it is often the low-lying position that enables one to observe the horizon, which is frequently somewhat lighter. Also, at night it is not always possible to effectively control road networks and highways that could have been covered from the same position during the day, positions which the enemy prefers to use for his movements. In that case, the tanks must be brought forward as close as possible to the road networks and intersections in question so that there are no gaps in observation. Infantry forces are also frequently brought forward so as to eliminate the possibility of surprise, especially by enemy forces advancing dismounted. Signal flares can be used to illuminate enemy targets. It is desirable to also make preparations to set fires, such as haystacks, wooden houses or locations prepared with gasoline, that can be ignited by gunfire and illuminate the enemy, preferably from behind. Painstaking light and noise discipline is especially vital so as to avoid betraying one's own positions. The area in front of the positions should be strung with barbed-wire and other obstacles that will reveal the approach of the enemy in a timely manner. The barbed wire can be supplemented with explosive charges and armed handgrenades using trip wires.
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Issuing orders (befehlsgebung) The more thoroughgoing the preparation of the defense, the greater is the likelihood of success. Poor selection of positions and sloppy issuing of orders cannot, generally, be corrected at the beginning of an enemy attack. Usually the defender is in the role of reacting. The preparation of the defense then takes on decisive significance. After a personal visual inspection of the terrain—including the enemy viewpoint!—the commander of the formation prepares a provisional course of action that serves as the basis for the intensive reconnaissance of the terrain. The leaders of the tank companies proceed in exacdy the same fashion. The order for the reconnaissance is then issued from a point where there is a view of the terrain. It includes: • Platoon positions • Unit boundaries and fields of fire • Commitment of the security forces • Employment of engineers (obstacles, etc.) and • Combat-support measures (such as artillery, among others) The most important component of those orders for terrain reconnaissance is planning the conduct of fire. The intensive reconnaissance of the terrain that follows is an indirect test of the provisional course of action. Terrain reconnaissance is carried out in the first phase after the issuing of orders by the battalion commander and then by the company commanders. While the commanders conduct their reconnaissance, the most senior officers remaining behind lead the companies. After reconnaissance by the company commanders, they meet with the battalion commander at a previously agreed on point with good observation of the terrain and they report the results of their individual reconnaissance. At that time all of the opportunities, recommendations and assignments are made and all of the unsuitable commitments offerees and the like are corrected or altered. Immediately subsequent to this, the company commanders meet with their platoon leaders, as well as the leaders of any attached forces (platoon leaders of Panzergrenadiere and engineers, artillery forward observers etc.). They also explain their preliminary courses of action with a view of the terrain and order reconnaissance by the subordinate leaders. All leaders of the smaller units intensively rec-onnoiter the areas that have been assigned to them. If the tanks have already been assembled under cover, it has proven to be a good practice for the gunners and tank drivers also to take part in the reconnaissance. The platoon leader travels on foot to all positions and along the routes to them. As documentation of the results of their reconnaissance, all of the leaders prepare sketches and/or make entries on maps. At the end of the detailed reconnaissance, the platoon leaders meet with the company commander and report their results. In principle, the final plan for the defense takes shape then during a discussion among all concerned. As a rule, the reconnaissance is already secured by means of sentries posted on watch and individual tanks in position or advanced outposts. If the reconnaissance party (Erkundungskommando) is in a new area, it maintains radio contact with the tanks that are closing up. The tanks must be received without any problems and led to a covered position. With the results of the reconnaissance and the platoon leaders' deployment sketches in hand, the company commander checks over his provisional course of action and orders whatever changes are necessary. By permission of the battalion, he develops his plan for the defense and presents the main aspects of it to the battalion commander. The battalion commander then issues his (final) battalion order for the defense. The company commander, in turn, translates that into action when he issues the company order for the defense. Then, at the latest, all of the tank commanders reconnoiter their positions, the routes to them and their location in the hide-position. After reporting the results of the reconnaissance, the platoon leaders are then in a position to issue their platoon orders for the defense. If there is little time available, the order for reconnaissance can be omitted. The reconnaissance only follows after giving out the respective individual missions. In that kind of situation it is also practical to 210/258
reconnoiter only the forward positions first, the positions in the depth of the defense area being done later (if need be, only by the leaders). Because there is no chapter in the manual for the tank company (Panzerkompanievorschrift) on defense, the format for issuing orders as followed by the Panzergrenadiere were generally used. According to Heeres-Dienstvorschrift 298/33a, Das Panzer-grenadier-Bataillon (gepanzert), the order for defense includes the following details: • Enemy situation • Friendly situation • Mission • Front-line trace • Organization, tasks and command of the combat outposts (Gefechtsvorposten), trace of their forward line and fire support • Combat reconnaissance • Missions of the companies located in the forward line • Sector boundaries and depth • Missions of the heavy weapons • Type of support by artillery and weapons from other units (fremde Waffen) • Fire control measures and requests for barrages (Sperrfeuer) • Commitment and tasks of reserves • Plans for construction of positions • Missions for attached engineers • Communications • Location of the vehicles (Fahrzeugstaffeln) and the supply company (Versorgungskom-panie) • Logistical support • Location of medical aid station and • Location of the battalion command post (Bataillonsgefechtsstand). After the issuing of orders by company and platoon commanders, the individual tanks take up their positions for defense. To accomplish that goal the company and platoon order also details the priority and time sequence of the individual measures (Arbeitsplan or work plan). That is useful in the event that the enemy attacks before anticipated and in the midst of the preparations.
Combat support (kampfunterstutzung) In spite of its great firepower, the tank is very limited in its suitability for defensive operations. The longer the tank remains stationary in a position that has been spotted, the more limited are its chances for survival. The enemy will use cover to make enveloping movements and commit artillery, mortars or aircraft. The greatest advantage of the tank—its mobility—cannot be brought to bear. It can only be effective for a short period of time from any single position. The infantry have to carry the main burden of the defense. Other elements of combat support contribute substantially to defensive success. The engineers and the artillery are especially important in that respect. During the preparatory reconnaissance, the engineer leader and the forward observers of the artillery have already been involved in the process. The forward observers reconnoiter their observation points so as to have good visibility into enemy territory. They will agree on target reference points (Zielpunkte) and target areas (Feuerraume) in conjunction with the combat troops so that fire can be rapidly called down on them. If possible, those points should also be, registered. Called fire that is precisely on target is the foundation of a barrage. When the fire is precisely registered, the firing command can be immediately issued to the guns. It is also input during breaks in fire missions so that it is always "on call." The engineers have numerous possibilities in providing support. Mine and timber obstacles are traditional. However, there are also numerous other possibilities. Concealed explosive charges can be installed in sectors of terrain that are hidden from observation, young stands of forest, ditches and the like. Bodies of water can also be mined. Signal flares and trip wires can give the alarm. Concertina and barbed wire, when properly laid, can even stop armored vehicles. Road 211/258
networks, crossings and bridges can be blown. Hunter/killer teams (Nahbekampfungstrupps) can be formed using satchel charges (geballte Ladungen) or "sticky" mines (Haftminen magnetically attached hollow charges). Engineers can help in the construction of positions with their construction machinery. In winter they can also help by blasting hard-frozen ground. Weapons should always cover emplaced obstacles. This prevents the enemy from rapidly breaching or bypassing them.
Command and control (fuhrung) There are various reasons that command of tanks is difficult in defense. First of all, it lies in the nature of the thing that the tanks are held in readiness in covered and camouflaged positions to postpone their discovery as late as possible. The platoon leader often has visual contact with no more that the immediately adjacent tank. The leader is more dependent on the reports of his subordinates than in the attack and upon their independent initiative. Since enemy indirect fire often additionally interferes with observation or easily shears off the antenna with shrapnel, many problems arise in maintaining communications. Thus, it pays to order "redundancy." That means that every single tank commander must not only know the specific mission in the present position, but also the times at which he should open fire for favorable effect. Normally, for every position a so-called trigger line (Feueroffnungslinie) is determined (if needed, distinguished into separate lines depending on the nature of the enemy that is approaching). That should be in easily observable terrain and ensures the action will be coordinated even if communications are broken. Specific signals (signal pistol flares) are also suitable. As the enemy approaches, targets should be allotted over radio long before it is time to open fire. As a result, each gunner can concentrate early on his target and take good aim. If targets are not allotted, then each tank orientates itself according to its position in the platoon. That is simple if there are the same numbers of enemy targets as tanks in the platoon. However, when there are less of one's own tanks, it is not so easy. In that case the basic rule is: Targets are allotted from the outside toward the center. First the identified targets that are farthest from the center are engaged; after that firing is switched to those remaining toward the center. The platoon leader engages the most dangerous target in the middle. The determination of what is the most dangerous target comes from different criteria. The type of target is most important. Tanks have higher priority than armored personnel carriers. The second essential criterion is the range to the target. Ordinarily, the more distant targets are engaged later, since the probability of hit for them is lower than for those tanks that have approached closer. An exception comes when the targets that are closer are moving rapidly and are unable to accurately aim their weapons. In that case, targets echeloned in position behind them may pose a greater threat. They have cover and can engage targets undisturbed. Command tanks have top priority for engaging. They can be spotted because they sometimes drive by themselves, do not conform to all the movements and only occasionally take part in the firefight themselves. Often, they were identified because of the number of antennae or as a result of special identification (such as a pennant). Unfortunately, the standardized turret numeral identification of the Wehrmacht often made such identification easier for the enemy. During the firefight, the platoon leader is especially busy. He must, if possible, keep an eye on the entire target area and make lightning-fast assessments as to whether previously unidentified targets have surfaced, target hits on the enemy turn out to be ineffective or there prove to be gaps in fire control. He directs the fight with short fire commands. He directs his own gunner to targets that have not been engaged yet. All of the tanks mutually support each other in observing rounds. In the tank section (Panzergruppe or Halbzug),, the individual pairs do the same. That is important, since the smoke from the discharge of the tank gun often prevents observation of the effect of one's own round for several seconds. In that situation, it is unnecessary to have a complete radio message with call and response. That would, quite simply, take too long. If the tank that fires simply hears "Target" or "High," then it knows that it is the recipient of the message. The driver, from his lower seat, can often observe the effects of a target hit sooner than the turret crew. 212/258
The platoon leaders and company commanders must evaluate the results of their own conduct of fire and order changes of position in a foresighted manner. Such changes must be coordinated. An independent change of position, therefore, is the exception. The subsequent positions must be designated with numbers, letters or code names, a process that abbreviates radio orders. The terrain in front of the positions is not only given code names but also surveyed by means of a range card (Entfer-nungspinne). During the entire time of the defense the company commander makes good use of the artillery forward observer that has been attached to him. The higher commander must receive frequent reports so he can evaluate the progress of the situation. Only then is it possible for him to commit forces in a foresighted fashion and avoid impending critical situations as they become evident.
Transition to subsequent operations Even more than in the attack or a delaying action, the transition to the subsequent operation is often a critical moment in defense. If the defense succeeds in repulsing the enemy with losses, the situation may offer favorable opportunities to reorganize one's own forces, root out the remnants of enemy units and again take possession of sectors that have been lost. If the enemy clears out of area in front of the positions, then it is time to maintain contact with patrols so as to avoid being surprised by a renewed assembly of enemy forces. If enemy forces with significant combat power are able to hold fast in the defense area or, indeed, if enemy units break through, then the situation is critical. In the latter case, it is important to hold the current positions and, under no circumstances, pull back in disorder, since that will endanger neighboring forces with being outflanked. Even in the event of being encircled for a time, one can break out—in this case, in the opposite direction—if one has held the forces together. In a case where the enemy has occupied former friendly positions, the main objective is to pin him down if one is unable to dislodge the enemy with planned counterattacks (among other means, through blocking artillery fire). The highest maxim must always be that one is the master of the entire defensive area at the end of the operation. If the enemy is too strong, then continual situation reports give the higher command the possibility of committing reserves or of bringing other forces that have not been engaged into suitable blocking positions (Auffangstellungen), i.e., prepared positions in the rear of the defense area. In most situations it turns out that local successes of weak enemy forces or, indeed, a penetration by them, is not necessarily threatening to the overall situation. Since troops in the rear are equipped with means for fighting armor—such as Panzerf'uste (hand-held antitank launchers of short-range, hollow-charge missiles), mines, shaped charges etc.—they, too, are able to destroy enemy armor. If an enemy attack cannot be halted on a broad front, then the situation forces a continuous fighting withdrawal until the enemy is exhausted.
Logistics In intense defensive fighting, ongoing supply is not possible occasionally since unarmored supply vehicles cannot be employed. Ammunition supply is especially critical, as is the recovery of damaged equipment. In order to insure the supply of ammunition, it can be stockpiled forward. Ammunition is stockpiled behind a position (or, looking ahead, in a subsequent position). It must be protected from the elements and shellfire and, moreover, it must be camouflaged. Usually platoon or company allotments of ammunition are stockpiled. The responsible officer decides how many rounds each tank is allocated. If a platoon position develops an ammunition shortage, individual tanks may be sent back to re-supply with ammunition and return as quickly as possible. Damaged tanks are not repaired in the position. Either they drive back under their own power under cover or are towed back in field-expedient fashion by a neighboring tank using tow cables. Recovery vehicles pre-positioned near the front receive the damaged tanks and tow them to repair facilities or to a collection point for damaged materiel at which heavy-duty transporters are
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standing by. Those reception points are located to the rear, beyond the range of enemy artillery. Tanks that are seriously damaged, where it appears that the repairs may take days, are passed over in favor of others or, if repair capacity is available, driven far to the rear. The tank platoon leader and the maintenance sergeant (Schirrmeister) of the company decide in combat when it is no longer rational to keep a vehicle in combat. In case of doubt, the speedy return of a tank that was out of service is more useful than hanging on to a tank that has only limited usability. Platoon leaders and the company commander switch to another tank if their vehicles have to be withdrawn. In no case do they linger at the repair facility if there is fighting at the front! It is always critical that wounded be evacuated and cared for, particularly when crews are forced to bail out. First priority goes to the fastest possible transfer of wounded to the closest cover. Then lifesaving measures, such as treatment for shock, control of bleeding and resuscitation, follow. Those first-aid measures determine survival in most cases! Mobile surgeons and medics (Sanitater) take over the wounded soldier and transport him to the medical aid station (Truppenverbandplatz). The aid station may not be located in range of aimed gunfire. If the medical troops are unable to evacuate the wounded, tanks must be used temporarily. Soldiers will only be courageous and conscientious if they are certain that everything humanly possible will be done to save them if they are wounded. Training of every soldier in first aid is an essential part of that. The medical forces from formations that have not yet been committed (the reserve, for example) can also be assigned to the defending troops in order to strengthen the net of care for the wounded. Every crew immediately uses any pause in the fighting—without waiting for orders—for logistical and maintenance measures of every kind. That includes checking over the running gear, especially after being subjected to enemy artillery barrages. Otherwise, the surprise will certainly be great if a withdrawal becomes necessary and a track breaks or a road-wheel hub that has leaked from being hit runs dry and freezes up. Clearing off dirt that has been scattered, cleaning optics and replacing damaged vision blocks are part of the check up. Taking care of bodily functions in these situations also belongs to careful "planning." During longer pauses, consideration can be given to bringing up rations and giving some of the crews a break. When men are overtired, short periods of deep sleep can make them fit for an additional 3-5 hours. Under no circumstances, however, can security and observation of the battlefield be neglected.
Delaying actions (hinhaltender kampf) Delaying action is also an important form of combat. In contrast to the attack, the objective is not, in the short run, to force a decision. In contrast to defensive fighting, terrain is given up. It follows, therefore, that the delaying action must soon be followed by offensive action that does seek a decision or the enemy must be stopped in a suitable location from continuing the attack for a significant time. Frequently, the delaying action is inserted as a preliminary to a defensive operation so as to prevent a superior enemy from hitting one's own positions with extreme force and speedily overwhelming them. This form of combat was not described in the Wehrmacht regulations. Instead it developed bit-by-bit during the second half of the war. The delaying action is also extremely suitable as the preliminary phase for a subsequent attack by friendly forces, steering the enemy's movements and keeping him in the dark for a longer period about friendly intentions. If he believes that all that he has before him is a fleeing foe, then his concern is to maintain a steady tempo in the pursuit. Wherever possible, he is forced to use various routes and, in so doing, divide his forces. The pursuing enemy becomes arranged in great depth because, to maintain higher speed in the march, he is essentially limited to well-constructed road networks. If he then runs up against a well-echeloned defense with flanking fire, coupled with immediate counterattacks that cause him heavy losses, he often needs a great deal of time to regain local superiority. In the end it is a command skill to appraise whether the enemy is making an orderly withdrawal or if he is beaten and falling back in disorder. This is also the main reason why one should employ units which have not been committed before in pursuit operations. Fresh, non-attrited forces are superior to the enemy in combat readiness and, especially, in combat power. 214/258
Course of the delay The delaying action should begin with a defensive phase that is limited in time but energetically conducted. That puts an effective brake on the enemy's progress, forces him to take time to deploy into assault positions and misleads him about friendly intentions. The enemy should be forced to go through all the preparations required to take a strong defensive position. That is the best time for friendly troops to break contact with the enemy and pull back. The next phase is the constant withdrawal of part of the friendly forces and the constant occupation of suitable defensive positions. The withdrawal itself can take place in one move or with continuous fighting. The first method has the advantage that it runs its course without disruption by direct-fire weapons, can be carried out more rapidly and more time remains for getting set in the next position. The latter case includes the threat of becoming mixed'in with the rapidly pursuing enemy and, necessarily, involves losses during the withdrawal movement. When the opportunity presents itself, spontaneous or planned local counterattacks are carried out preferably in the enemy's flank. They must be ended quickly or move right through the enemy. The primary objective must be to maintain one's own combat power for the more important subsequent task. Very often it is the delaying force (Verzogerungsverband) that is then assigned as a reserve after being received by friendly troops holding a position farther to the rear. As a reserve, it only has limited time to reorganize itself.
Defense for a limite dtime period The delaying action usually begins with an effective defense for a limited time. For that, positions must be chosen so that they are mutually supporting and offer the enemy no gaps for unseen infiltration. Since, generally, friendly infantry in well-constructed positions is not available, the attached Panzergrenadiere must be committed dismounted so that they can stop the approach of advancing enemy infantry for a limited time and then quickly remount in their SPW's that are kept nearby. It is desirable that the enemy be halted and forced to deploy for attack again. Such an action is favorable to one's own orderly withdrawal to the next positions. An enduring defense for an extended period of time does not enter discussion, since it is important to maintain the combat strength of the troops fighting the delaying action for the subsequent fighting after their reception by the rearward forces.
Withdrawal (ausweichen) If the armor formation has to break off the fight, it withdraws under covering fire of overwatching forces (iiberwachende Krafte), supported by the fire of the artillery that was assigned to support it. As soon as the forward forces are no longer within the effective range of enemy antitank fire, the tanks that provided cover continue the withdrawal in leapfrog fashion. That means that individual platoons are in position and engage the enemy and the others pull back to the next hull-down position (driving in reverse if under enemy fire). Combat engineers prevent speedy pursuit by enemy motorized forces by laying obstacles on the road network. If the armor formation covers the withdrawal of unarmored forces, then it must repeatedly launch attacks from unexpected directions and with short-term objectives against the pursuing enemy until the vulnerable troop units have separated sufficiently from the enemy. Broad attack formations are the rule. Breaking off combat against superior enemy armored forces is facilitated if it is possible to provide strong covering fire from a position to the rear, preferably in a position that cannot be negotiated by armor. Even when pulling back as a unit, the company maintains contact with the enemy through patrols to prevent unobserved flanking. Active reconnaissance on the flanks and timely commitment of forces—mainly attached antitank support and engineers as flank protection—are necessary to prevent encircling maneuver during the pursuit (iiber-holende Verfolgung). If it is not possible to shake off the enemy, the retreating armor formation must take advantage 215/258
of the terrain and favorable situations to concentrate locally superior forces against individual units of the pursuer. Artificial smoke eases breaking contact with the enemy and masks the direction of withdrawal. Contact points with adjacent units (see chapter on the defense) are set up on order on the flanks. Those will be changed if the fighting moves to the rear. To the extent that is possible, the same forces should also occupy the points of contact farther to the rear.
Counterattacks (gegenangriffe) Counterattacks are to be carried out according to the fundamentals of the hasty attack (see above). They always have limited objectives of only a few kilometers. Often they are followed by a withdrawal in a single move. No intermediate objectives are set. The company remains close together. Often a prerequisite for launching a counterattack is when the enemy runs up against a position and bogs down.
Issuing orders (befehlsgebung) The operational planning for the delaying action must be as detailed as is necessary, but as flexible as possible. Frequent mistakes are: • Rigid assignment of rearward positions and • Detailed advance planning of the sequence to be followed in the withdrawal movements. During the delaying action it is frequently necessary to depart from the preplanned course of action so as to take advantage of favorable opportunities or to prevent the enemy from developing too great a pressure at one point. The tactical commander evaluates what pieces of terrain offer possibilities for positions, based on continuous map study. He numbers those on the map and assigns them to individual companies for sequential reconnoitering. In; closing he gives the order for reconnaissance as part of the explanation of his provisional course of action. The latter is important so that all of the commanders are clear during the reconnaissance on what grounds a designated position will be selected and what task must be accomplished there. The reconnaissance, as a rule, progresses away from the enemy. That means that first the positions for the time-phased defense (zeitliche begrenzte Verteidigung) are reconnoitered. If time is of the essence, those positions are also occupied before the positions lying farther to the rear can be reconnoitered. Organization in those positions has already been described in the chapter on defense. Farther to the rear, it is desirable that all of the company commanders get an overview of the entire sector. They also briefly reconnoiter adjacent positions. That facilitates revision of plans that may be called for during ongoing fighting. After the completion of the reconnaissance, the company commanders report the results, ask final questions and make final recommendations. The battalion commander marks the exact location of the positions and the withdrawal routes on his map and gives the order for the delaying action. The plan is then put into action by the company commanders. In the event that the enemy begins to attack, the company commander sends the company headquarters section leaders to do the reconnaissance. The leaders return and report the results or receive the withdrawing company in the next position. After briefing them, they then drive to the next position. That procedure presumes unbroken radio communication. In the event that positions have to be occupied in the course of the fighting that were not reconnoitered, the company assembles behind them under cover. The leaders briefly dismount and are briefed where there is a view of the field of fire. If there is no time for that - because the enemy is pressing hard - the company commander briefs his platoons by radio and gives a short order for the fight from the respective position. If obstacles have been prepared farther to the rear, individual platoons can be assigned as demolition guards (Sprengsicherangskommandos). They guard passages through the obstacles or crossings that have been prepared for demolition and secure them until their own troops have passed. Mines for closing the gaps or detonation devices are taken from the withdrawing engineers so that the obstacles can be activated at the right time before the enemy approaches. If it is
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expected that further counterattacks will be conducted in the delaying zone, patrols can also be ordered to remain behind, allow the enemy to pass and then report the results of their reconnaissance from concealed positions by radio.
Combat support and logistics The most important component of combat support in the delaying action is the self-propelled artillery that has reconnoitered several firing position areas in depth. During the withdrawal of the howitzers, usually 50 percent of them move, while the others remain in service. Every company must have at least one forward observer. If there are not enough forward observers, then observer elements from artillery formations that are not yet employed and are already set up for defense well to the rear should be used. Often those forward observers take over the loader's or radio operator's position in the company commander's tank so as to increase their mobility or improve their protection. Engineers prepare obstacles and bridges and crossings for demolition according to a prioritized plan while working from the front to the rear. Other elements must support them with vehicles for transportation of obstacle materials. That is also true for logistics elements. Often, in the delaying action, advantage is taken of possibilities for stockpiling supplies in advance where they will be available during the withdrawal. It is difficult to plan ahead to recover inoperable vehicles and the wounded. Both of those must take place rapidly, since the enemy usually follows closely. Recovery teams and medical troops are, therefore, distributed throughout the combat sector. As in the attack, maximum use should be made of evacuation of the wounded by air.
Command and control The delaying action is not conducted below the battalion level, since an array of reinforcements (artillery, engineers, anti-aircraft etc.) must be attached. The tank company fights within the framework of the battalion in which it either: • Defends a position, • Conducts a fighting withdrawal or withdraws in a bound or • Conducts an attack within a limited objective In contrast to the defense, the tank company must frequently fight without mutual support from other companies. In spite of the fact that the battalion covers unit gaps, the company commander carries out local zone reconnaissance into the open flanks. Defense in positions or attacks with limited objectives are carried out according to their respective fundamental rules. The company commander takes advantage of favorable opportunities for a counterassault (GegenstoB) without waiting for orders. In doing so he must avoid becoming mixed in with the enemy. A withdrawal to the next position requires permission from the battalion commander, since he has to assure the cohesion of the operation. The individual company frequently lacks the overall perspective to be able to judge whether a withdrawal is necessary or useful. A premature withdrawal can evoke critical situations for others. Road networks take priority for a withdrawal, since crosscountry movements normally take more time. Having dealt with the main types of combat I would like to describe combat missions which are commonly conducted in any situation during combat regardless of the overall category of combat.
Passage of lines (aufnahme) The passage of lines of the delaying formation at the end of the operation is an especially critical moment. If possible, a special, so-called covering force (Aufnahmetruppe) under unified command should be ordered in front of friendly positions. The covering force should: • Cover and support the withdrawal, • Repulse pursuing enemy and • Hold open crossings, passages and narrows The covering force uses the same radio net as the troops that are delaying. 217/258
Specific routes are set up for the withdrawing troops from which they should not deviate, if possible. Agreed on recognition signals are set up in the direction of friendly lines (such as flares at night). Individual liaison officers (such as the leader of the company headquarters troop) or patrols establish contact with the covering force in a timely manner. On approaching their own troops, the tanks identify themselves and move directly to the rear to the assigned area, without stopping. If the enemy pursues closely, the covering force assumes command and the withdrawing tanks turn around and take up the fight from suitable positions. If the enemy has been repulsed, the passage of lines is immediately continued. To aid in coordination, a passage line (Aufnah-melinie) can be set up along a clearly recognizable terrain feature. That feature must be within the field of fire of friendly weapons. The covering force opens fire on the pursuing enemy—by surprise, if possible. The firefight must be conducted so as to separate the enemy from the troops that are being passed and prevent mixing together during the passage. During the passage of lines, the company commander remains with the last of the withdrawing units. He reports the completion of the passage of lines for his forces to the battalion.
INDEX Heinz Wilhelm Guderian ..................................................................................................................4 Panzer Leader ....................................................................................................................................8 A Peculiar Fellow ..........................................................................................................................8 Factors for the Future................................................................................................................. 17 The Blackest Days .......................................................................................................................28 The Search For a Saviour............................................................................................................36 The Creation of the Panzertruppe ..............................................................................................53 Vindication in Poland ................................................................................................................. 72 Panzer action in Poland 1939 ................................................................................................ 73 The Green Light through France................................................................................................87 Victory in the West 1940........................................................................................................87 The Fate of a Hero .................................................................................................................... 110 The Road to Lotzen................................................................................................................... 129 The Last in the Line .................................................................................................................. 146 The Final Stand......................................................................................................................... 155 Seer,Technician, Genius or Germany's best General?............................................................. 158 Panzer Tactics ................................................................................................................................ 163 Development of german armor tactics..................................................................................... 165 The first three Panzerdivisionen .............................................................................................. 166 First experience in war ............................................................................................................. 167 Armored battle groups.............................................................................................................. 167 The panzerbrigade in 1944 ....................................................................................................... 168 Reorganization after teh second world war ............................................................................. 168 Why is the offense the main type of combat operations ?....................................................... 168 Forms of attack ......................................................................................................................... 169 Prerequisites for the attack ...................................................................................................... 170 The start of the attack ................................................................................................................171 Course of the attack ..................................................................................................................171 Meeting engagement (begegnungsgefecht) ............................................................................. 172 Attacks at night or in conditions of limited visibility .............................................................. 173 Attacks across water obstacles ................................................................................................ 173 Breaching obstacles ................................................................................................................. 173 Pursuit....................................................................................................................................... 174 Actions at the objective ............................................................................................................ 174 Issuing orders .......................................................................................................................... 174 218/258
Combat support (kampfunterstersutzung)...............................................................................177 Command and control (fuhrung)..............................................................................................177 Transition to the next operation ..............................................................................................180 Logistics .................................................................................................................................... 181 Hitler's Quest for Oil: the Impact of Economic Considerations on Military Strategy, 1941-42.. 181 Conclusion ............................................................................................................................... 200 Defensive Operations (Die Verteidigung)..................................................................................... 201 Commitment of forces ............................................................................................................ 202 Preparing for combat .............................................................................................................. 202 Blocking positions ................................................................................................................... 202 Defensive area (verteidigungsraum)....................................................................................... 203 The individual tank fighting position ..................................................................................... 203 The tank platoon position ....................................................................................................... 204 Company fighting positions or defensive areas ...................................................................... 204 Selection of positions............................................................................................................... 204 Counterattacks (gegenangriffe)................................................................................................205 Relief (ablosung).......................................................................................................................205 The missions of the reserve ......................................................................................................207 Course of the defensive operation............................................................................................207 Special conditions relatibg to defense at night ....................................................................... 209 Issuing orders (befehlsgebung)................................................................................................ 210 Combat support (kampfunterstutzung)....................................................................................211 Command and control (fuhrung)............................................................................................. 212 Transition to subsequent operations ....................................................................................... 213 Logistics .................................................................................................................................... 213 Delaying actions (hinhaltender kampf) ................................................................................... 214 Course of the delay ................................................................................................................... 215 Defense for a limite dtime period............................................................................................. 215 Withdrawal (ausweichen)......................................................................................................... 215 Counterattacks (gegenangriffe)................................................................................................ 216 Issuing orders (befehlsgebung)................................................................................................ 216 Combat support and logistics................................................................................................... 217 Command and control ............................................................................................................. 217 Passage of lines (aufnahme)..................................................................................................... 217 INDEX ........................................................................................................................................... 218 NOTES ........................................................................................................................................... 219
NOTES Leutnant Heinz Guderian 1908 Alfred Josef Ferdinand Jodl (10 May 1890 – 16 October 1946) was a German military commander, attaining the position of Chief of the Operations Staff of the Armed Forces High Command (Oberkommando der Wehrmacht, or OKW) during World War II, acting as deputy to Wilhelm Keitel. At Nuremberg he was tried, sentenced to death and hanged as a war criminal. Alfred Jodl was born out of wedlock as Alfred Josef Ferdinand Baumgärtler in Würzburg, Germany, the son of Officer Alfred Jodl and Therese Baumgärtler, assuming the surname Jodl upon his parents' marriage in 1899. He was educated at Cadet School in Munich, from which he graduated in 1910. General Ferdinand Jodl was his younger brother. The philosopher and psychologist Friedrich Jodl at the University of Vienna was his uncle. After schooling, Jodl joined the army as an artillery officer. During World War I he served as a battery officer on the Western Front from 1914–1916, twice being wounded. In 1917 Jodl served briefly on the Eastern Front before returning to the west as a staff officer. After the war Jodl remained in the armed forces and joined the Versailles-limited Reichswehr. 1 2
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The Inspectorate of Motorized Troops, 1932, frontt row: (left to right) Nehring, Lutz, Guderian The Oberkommando der Wehrmacht (OKW) (English: "Supreme Command of the Armed Forces") was part of the command structure of the armed forces (Wehrmacht) of Nazi Germany during World War II. The OKW was formed on 4 February 1938 following the Blomberg-Fritsch Affair, which led to the dismissal of Generalfeldmarschall (and Reich War Minister) Werner von Blomberg and the dissolution of the Reichskriegsministerium (Reich War Ministry). The OKW replaced the War Ministry. The appointments made to the OKW and the motive behind the reorganization are commonly thought to be Adolf Hitler's desire to consolidate power and authority around his position as Führer and Reich Chancellor (Führer und Reichskanzler), to the detriment of the military leadership of the Wehrmacht. 5 Carl Philipp Gottfried von Clausewitz July 1, 1780 – November 16, 1831) was a Prussian soldier and military theorist who stressed the moral (in modern terms, "psychological") and political aspects of war. His most notable work, Vom Kriege (On War), was unfinished at his death. Clausewitz espoused a romantic conception of warfare, though he also had at least one foot planted firmly in the more rationalist ideas of the European Enlightenment. His thinking is often described as Hegelian because of his references to dialectical thinking but, although he probably knew Hegel, Clausewitz's dialectic is quite different and there is little reason to consider him a disciple. He stressed the dialectical interaction of diverse factors, noting how unexpected developments unfolding under the "fog of war" (i.e., in the face of incomplete, dubious, and often completely erroneous information and high levels of fear, doubt, and excitement) call for rapid decisions by alert commanders. He saw history as a vital check on erudite abstractions that did not accord with experience. In contrast to Antoine-Henri Jomini, he argued that war could not be quantified or reduced to mapwork, geometry, and graphs. Clausewitz had many aphorisms, of which the most famous is that "War is the continuation of Politik by other means" (Politik being variously translated as 'policy' or 'politics,' terms with very different implications), a description that has won wide acceptance 6 Wilhelm Bodewin Johann Gustav Keitel (22 September 1882 – 16 October 1946) was a German field marshal (Generalfeldmarschall). As head of the Oberkommando der Wehrmacht (Supreme Command of the Armed Forces) and de facto war minister under Adolf Hitler, he was one of Germany's most senior military leaders during World War II. At the Allied court at Nuremberg he was tried, sentenced to death and hanged as a war criminal. Keitel was born in Bad Gandersheim, Duchy of Brunswick, German Empire, the son of Carl Keitel, a middle class landowner and his wife Apollonia Vissering. After completing his education in Göttingen, he embarked on a military career in 1901, becoming a Fahnenjunker (Cadet Officer), joining the 6th Lower-Saxon Field Artillery Regiment. He married Lisa Fontaine, a wealthy landowner's daughter, in 1909. Together they had six children, one of whom died in infancy. His eldest son, Karl-Heinz Keitel went on to serve as a divisional commander in the Waffen-SS. During World War I Keitel served on the Western Front with the Field Artillery Regiment No. 46. In September 1914, during the fighting in Flanders, he was severely wounded in his right forearm by a shell fragment. 3 4
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Fuller was born in 1878, in Chichester, West Sussex, England. After moving to Lausanne with his parents as a boy, he returned to England at the age of 11 without them; three years later, at "the somewhat advanced age of 14," he began attending Malvern College and, later, Royal Military Academy Sandhurst from 1897 to 1898. He was commissioned into the 1st Battalion of the Oxfordshire Light Infantry (the old 43rd), and served in South Africa from 1899 to 1902. In the spring of 1904, Fuller was sent with his unit to India, where he contracted enteric fever in autumn of 1905; he returned to England the next year on sick-leave, where he met the woman he married in December 1906. Instead of returning to India, he was reassigned to units in England, serving as an adjutant to the 2nd South Middlesex Volunteers (amalgamated into the 7th Middlesex during the Haldane Reforms) and helping form the 10th Middlesex, until he was accepted into the Staff College at Camberley in 1913 (starting work there in January 1914). During World War I, he was a staff officer with the Home Forces and with 7 Corps in France, and from 1916 in the Headquarters of the Machine-Gun Corps' Heavy Branch which was later to become the Tank Corps. He planned the tank attack at Cambrai in 1917 and the tank operations for the autumn offensives of 1918. His Plan 1919 for a fully mechanised army was never implemented in his lifetime, and after 1918 he held various leading positions, notably as a commander of an experimental brigade at Aldershot. 8 Paul Ludwig Hans Anton von Beneckendorff und von Hindenburg ( listen (help¡info)), known universally as Paul von Hindenburg;(2 October 1847 – 2 August 1934) was a Prussian-German field marshal, statesman, and politician, and served as the second President of Germany from 1925 to 1934. Hindenburg enjoyed a long career in the Prussian Army, retiring in 1911. He was recalled at the outbreak of World War I, and first came to national attention, at the age of 66, as the victor at Tannenberg in 1914. As Germany's Chief of the General Staff from 1916, he and his deputy, Erich Ludendorff, rose in the German public's esteem until Hindenburg came to eclipse the Kaiser himself. Hindenburg retired again in 1919, but returned to public life one more time in 1925 to be elected as the second President of Germany. Though 84 years old and in poor health, Hindenburg was persuaded to run for re-election in 1932, as he was considered the only candidate who could defeat Adolf Hitler. Hindenburg was re-elected in a runoff. Although he was opposing Hitler, the deteriorating political stability of the Weimar Republic let him play an important role in the Nazi Party's rise to power. He dissolved the parliament twice in 1932 and eventually appointed Hitler as Chancellor in January 1933. In February, he issued the Reichstag Fire Decree which suspended various civil liberties, and in March he signed the Enabling Act, in which the parliament gave Hitler's administration legislative powers. Hindenburg died the following year, after which Hitler declared the office of President vacant and, as "Fßhrer und Reichskanzler", made himself head of state. In January 1945, as Soviet forces advanced into East Prussia, Hitler ordered both coffins to be disinterred for their safety. They were first moved to a bunker just outside Berlin, then to a salt mine at the village of Bernterode, Germany, along with the remains of both Frederick Wilhelm I of Prussia and Frederick II of Prussia (Frederick the Great). The four coffins were hastily marked of their contents using red crayon, and interred behind a 6-foot-thick (1.8 m) masonry wall in a deep recess of the 14-mile mine complex, 1,800 feet underground. Three weeks later, on 27 April 1945, the coffins were discovered by U.S. Army Ordnance troops after tunneling through the wall. All were subsequently moved to the basement of the heavily guarded Marburg Castle in Marburg an der Lahn, Germany, a collection point for recovered Nazi plunder. The U.S. Army, in a secret project dubbed "Operation Bodysnatch", had many difficulties in determining the final resting places for the four famous Germans. 16 months after the salt mine discovery, in August 1946, the remains of Hindenburg and his wife were finally laid to rest by the American army at St. Elizabeth's, the church of his Teutonic ancestors in Marburg, where they remain today 7
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The German rank of general most likely saw its first use within the religious orders of the Holy Roman Empire of the German Nation, albeit in modified forms and usage from the current understanding of general. By the 16th century, with the rise of standing armies, the German states had begun to appoint generals from the nobility to lead armies in battle. A standard rank system was developed during the Thirty Years War, with the highest rank of General usually reserved for the ruling sovereign (e.g. the Kaiser or Elector) and the actual field commander holding the rank of Generalleutnant. Feldmarschall was a lower rank at that time, as was Generalwachtmeister. By the 17th and 18th centuries, the rank of general was present in all the militaries of the German states, and saw its greatest usage by the militaries of Bavaria and Prussia. It was these two militaries that created the concept of the “general staff”, which was often manned entirely by members of the nobility. To be a general implied membership in the noble class as a count or Graf, baron or Freiherr (this also accounts for most German generals of this era having the prefix “von” before their names). 10 Schlieffen was born in Berlin on 28 February 1833 as the son of a Prussian army officer. He entered the army in 1854 at the age of 20. Quickly moving to the general staff, he participated in the Austro-Prussian War in 1866, and in the Franco-Prussian War of 1870–71. In 1884, Schlieffen became head of the military history section of the general staff, replacing Count von Waldersee as chief of the Prussian General Staff in 1891, after thirty-eight years of military service. In 1905 Schlieffen presented the Schlieffen Plan a scheme to prevent Germany from having to fight a two-front war by first defeating France quickly, then throwing its full weight against Russia. The rest of Schlieffen’s career was spent inculcating the operational ideas required to make this strategy work. He retired on 1 January 1906 after nearly 53 years of service and died in Berlin on January 4, 1913, just nineteen months before the outbreak of the First World War. In reference to his Schlieffen Plan, Schlieffen's last words were said to have been, "Remember: keep the right wing strong." 11 The Schlieffen Plan was the German General Staff's early 20th century overall strategic plan for victory in a possible future war in which the German Empire might find itself fighting on two fronts: France to the west and Russia to the east. The First World War later became such a war, with both a Western Front and an Eastern Front. The plan took advantage of expected differences in the three countries' speed in preparing for war. In short, it was the German plan to avoid a two-front war by concentrating troops in the West and quickly defeating the French and then, if necessary, rushing those troops by rail to the East to face the Russians before they had time to mobilize fully. The Schlieffen Plan was created by Count Alfred von Schlieffen and modified by Helmuth von Moltke the Younger after Schlieffen's retirement; it was Moltke who actually implemented the plan at the outset of World War I. In modified form, it was executed to near victory in the first month of the war. However, the modifications to the original plan, a French counterattack on the outskirts of Paris (the Battle of the Marne) and surprisingly speedy Russian offensives ended the German offensive and resulted in years of trench warfare. The plan has been the subject of intense debate among historians and military scholars ever since. Schlieffen's last words were "remember to keep the right flank strong," which was significant in that Moltke strengthened the left flank in his modification. 9
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Seeckt was born in Schleswig on April 22, 1866 to an old Pomeranian family, which had been ennobled in the eighteenth century. Though the family had lost its estates, Seeckt was "a thorough-going aristocrat" and his father was an important general within the German Army, finishing his career as military governor of Posen. Seeckt followed his father into military service, joining the Army in 1885 at the age of 18. He served in the elite Kaiser Alexander Guard Grenadiers, then joined the Prussian General Staff in 1897. From 1930-1932 Seeckt sat in the Reichstag as a member of the DVP, after failing to be adopted as a candidate for the Centre Party. In the presidential election of 1932 he wrote to his sister, urging her to vote for Hitler. In October 1933, Seeckt arrived in China to head the German military mission. At the time of his arrival, Sino-German relations were in a bad state owning to the racial arrogance of the Germans, and Chiang Kai-shek was considering firing the Germans and bringing in a French military mission. In order to save the military mission, Seeckt ordered the German officers to behave with more tact towards the Chinese and to start showing some respect for Chinese sensibilities. In this way, Seeckt saved Germany's position in China. From 1934-1935 he served as an adviser to Chiang Kai-shek and helped to establish a new basis for Sino-German cooperation. But on returning to Germany from China he became disillusioned with Hitler. Von Seeckt died in Berlin on December 27, 1936 and was buried at Invalidenfriedhof. 13 The original Siegfried line (German: Siegfriedstellung) was a line of defensive forts and tank defenses built by Germany as a section of the Hindenburg Line 1916–1917 in northern France during World War I. In English, Siegfried line more commonly refers to the similar World War II defensive line, built during the 1930s, opposite the French Maginot Line, which served a corresponding purpose. The Germans themselves called this the Westwall, but the Allies renamed it after the World War I line. This article deals with this second Siegfried line. The Siegfried Line was a defence system stretching more than 630 km (390 mi) with more than 18,000 bunkers, tunnels and tank traps. It went from Kleve on the border with the Netherlands, along the western border of the old German Empire as far as the town of Weil am Rhein on the border to Switzerland. More with Nazi propaganda in mind than for any strategic reason, Adolf Hitler planned the line from 1936 and had it built between 1938 and 1940. 12
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Helmuth Karl Bernhard Graf von Moltke (26 October 1800, Parchim, Mecklenburg-Schwerin – 24 April 1891) was a German Field Marshal. The chief of staff of the Prussian Army for thirty years, he is regarded as one of the great strategists of the latter 19th century, and the creator of a new, more modern method of directing armies in the field. He is often referred to as Moltke the Elder to distinguish him from his nephew Helmuth Johann Ludwig von Moltke, who commanded the German Army at the outbreak of World War I. Moltke was born in Parchim, Mecklenburg-Schwerin, son of the Danish Generalleutnant Friedrich Philipp Victor von Moltke (1768– 1845). In 1805, his father settled in Holstein, but about the same time was left impoverished when the French burned his country house and plundered his town house in Lübeck, where his wife and children were during the Fourth Coalition. Young Moltke therefore grew up under difficult circumstances. At nine he was sent as a boarder to Hohenfelde in Holstein, and at age eleven went to the cadet school at Copenhagen, being destined for the Danish army and court. In 1818 he became a page to the king of Denmark and a second lieutenant in a Danish infantry regiment. At twenty-one Moltke resolved to enter the Prussian service, in spite of the loss of seniority. In 1822 he became a second lieutenant in the 8th Infantry Regiment stationed at Frankfurt (Oder). At twenty-three, he was allowed to enter the general war school (later called the Prussian Military Academy), where he studied the full three years and passed in 1826. In October 1870, Moltke was made a Graf (Count) as a reward for his services. In June 1871, he was further rewarded by a promotion to the rank of field marshal and a large monetary grant. He served in the Diet of the North German Confederation from 1867–71, and from 1871-91 he was a member of the Reichstag, the German parliament of the time. For the "Verdienste um das zur Einheit wiedergeborene Deutsche Vaterland" (merit of the unification of the reborn German fatherland), he was named an honorary citizen of Hamburg. In 1889, Moltke made two audio recordings with Adelbert Theodor Wangemann, a German native who worked with Thomas Edison and had been sent to Europe with Edison's newly invented cylinder phonograph. Moltke recorded excerpts from Shakespeare and Goethe on two cylinders, recordings which were first lost until 1957 and were unidentified decades after. On January 30, 2012, they were part of a trove of recordings revealed by the Thomas Edison National Historical Park. The two cylinders made by Moltke are the only known voice recordings of anyone born in 1800, that is, in the 18th century. 15 Erich Friedrich Wilhelm Ludendorff (sometimes referred to as von Ludendorff) (9 April 1865 – 20 December 1937) was a German general, victor of Liège and of the Battle of Tannenberg. From August 1916 his appointment as Quartermaster general made him joint head (with Paul von Hindenburg), and chief engineer behind the management of Germany's effort in World War I until his resignation in October 1918. After the war, Ludendorff became a prominent nationalist leader, and a promoter of the stab-in-the-back legend, convinced that the German Army had been betrayed by Marxists and Republicans in the Versailles Treaty. He took part in the unsuccessful coups d’état of Wolfgang Kapp in 1920 and the Beer Hall Putsch of Adolf Hitler in 1923, and in 1925 he ran for president against his former colleague, Paul von Hindenburg, who he claimed had taken credit for Ludendorff's victories against Russia. From 1924 to 1928 he represented the German Völkisch Freedom Party in the German Parliament. Consistently pursuing a purely military line of thought, Ludendorff developed, after the war, the theory of “Total War,” which he published as Der Totale Krieg (The Total War) in 1935, in which he argued that the entire physical and moral forces of the nation should be mobilized, because, according to him, peace was merely an interval between wars. Ludendorff was a recipient of the Grand Cross of the Iron Cross and the Pour le Mérite. 14
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Freikorps (English: Free Corps) are German volunteer military or paramilitary units. The term was originally applied to voluntary armies formed in German lands from the middle of the 18th century onwards. Between World War I and World War II the term was also used for the paramilitary organizations that arose during the Weimar period. Freikorps units fought both for and against the German state. They formed the vanguard of the Nazi movement. The first Freikorps were recruited by Frederick II of Prussia in the 18th century during the Seven Years' War. The Freikorps were regarded as unreliable by regular armies, so they were mainly used as sentries and for minor duties. During the Napoleonic Wars, Freikorps were formed for the purpose of shaking off French rule in Germany. Those led by Ferdinand von Schill were decimated in the Battle of Stralsund (1809); many were killed in battle or executed at Napoleon's command in the aftermath. Later, Ludwig Adolf Wilhelm von Lützow, a survivor of Schill's Freikorps, formed the Lützow Free Corps, which took part in the German War of Liberation. The anti-Napoleonic Freikorps often operated behind French lines as a kind of commando or guerrilla force. Throughout the 19th century, these anti-Napoleonic Freikorps were greatly praised and glorified by German nationalists, and a heroic myth built up around their exploits. This myth was invoked, in considerably different circumstances, in the aftermath of Germany's defeat in World War I. In 1920, Adolf Hitler had just begun his political career as the leader of the tiny and as-yet-unknown German Workers Party (soon renamed the National Socialist German Workers Party, NSDAP) in Munich. Numerous future members and leaders of the Nazi Party had served in the Freikorps, including Ernst Röhm, future head of the Sturmabteilung, or SA, Heinrich Himmler, future head of the Schutzstaffel, or SS, and Rudolf Höß, the future Kommandant of the Auschwitz concentration camp. 17 Gustav Adolf Joachim Rüdiger, Graf von der Goltz (December 8, 1865 – November 4, 1946) was German Army general during World War I. After World War I he was the commander of the army of the Baltic German-established Government of Latvia, which played an instrumental role in the defeat of Russian Bolsheviks and their local allies in Latvia (1919), but was eventually unsuccessful in retaining German control over the Baltic region after World War I. Von der Goltz was born in Züllichau, Brandenburg. A Major-General commanding the German infantry division of Guards on Foot in France, von der Goltz was transferred to Finland in March 1918 to help the nationalist government in the civil war against the Finnish "Reds" and Soviet Russian troops. He commanded the German expedition unit ("Baltic Sea Division") which landed at Hanko, Finland, between April 3-April 5, 1918, and then marched on the socialist-controlled capital Helsinki, which surrendered on April 13, 1918. The German military intervention enabled the nationalist government of Finland to gain control over most of the country by May 1918. From 1924 to 1930 he headed the German government department on the military education of young German youth. On 17 July 1931 he handed over the command of the Economic Policy Association Frankfurt am Main to the Reich President Paul von Hindenburg. He was married to Hannah Caroline von Hase (1873–1941), a granddaughter of Karl von Hase. A son of the same name, Rüdiger von der Goltz, was a lawyer. He died in the Kinsegg estate, village of Bernbeuren, Germany. 18 Not all of them, it must be pointed out. Wheeler Bennett, for example, states that Seeckt looked on von der Goltz's schemes as 'pure fantasy'. 19 The Treaty of Versailles (French: le Traité de Versailles) was one of the peace treaties at the end of World War I. It ended the state of war between Germany and the Allied Powers. It was signed on 28 June 1919, exactly five years after the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand. The other Central Powers on the German side of World War I were dealt with in separate treaties. Although the armistice signed on 11 November 1918, ended the actual fighting, it took six months of negotiations at the Paris Peace Conference to conclude the peace treaty. The treaty was registered by the Secretariat of the League of Nations on 21 October 1919, and was printed in The League of Nations Treaty Series. 16
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'Hermann Balck, who was close to Guderian at this time, says that Guderian had to be in the 100,000 man army from sheer virtue of strength of character. 'He was like a coiled spring.' Hermann Balck (7 December 1897 – 29 November 1982) was a career German army officer who served in both World War I and World War II, rising to the rank of General der Panzertruppe. He was a recipient of the Knight's Cross of the Iron Cross with Oak Leaves, Swords and Diamonds. His father was Generalleutnant and Knight of the Order Pour le Mérite William Balck. Balck was born in Danzig - Langfuhr, he entered the Imperial German army in 1913 as an officer candidate. He served as a company grade officer in World War I, ending in command of a machinegun company. His unit was closely involved in the German Schlieffen Plan, and led the Sedan crossing. Balck was nominated for the Pour le Mérite in October 1918. At the outbreak of World War II in 1939, Balck was in the OKH (High Command of the German Army) and in late October of that year was transferred to the command of Schützenregiment 1 (motorized rifle regiment 1) in 1. Panzerdivision where he served during the Battle of France. During the winter and spring of 1940 and 1941, he commanded Panzerregiment 3 during the Battle of Greece, and later 2. Panzerbrigade. He returned to staff duties in the Inspectorate of Armoured Forces in the OKH in July 1941. In May 1942, Balck went to the Eastern Front and commanded the 11. Panzer Division in Ukraine and southern Russia. After the war he became a depot worker. In 1948 he was arrested, tried and convicted for murder for the execution by firing squad, without proper trial, of the artillery commander Lieutenant-Colonel Johann Schottke, who was found drunk on duty, on 28 November 1944 near Saarbrücken. This incident occurred while Balck was serving as commander of Army Group G on the western front. He served half of his sentence. 21 Erich von Manstein (24 November 1887 – 9 June 1973) was a field marshal in World War II. He became one of the most prominent commanders of Germany's World War II armed forces (Wehrmacht). During World War II he attained the rank of Field Marshal (Generalfeldmarschall) and was held in high esteem by his fellow officers as one of the Wehrmacht's best military strategists. He was the initiator and one of the planners of the Ardennes offensive alternative in the invasion of France in 1940. He received acclaim from the German leadership for the victorious battles of Perekop Isthmus, Kerch, Sevastopol and Kharkov. He commanded the failed relief effort at Stalingrad and the Cherkassy pocket evacuation. He was dismissed from service by Adolf Hitler in March 1944, due to his frequent clashes with Hitler over military strategy. In his memoirs, Verlorene Siege (1955), translated into English as Lost Victories, he is critical of Hitler above all for denying the Army flexible defensive maneuverability and for "over-reliance" on his "will", and critical of the attempt by other military officers on Hitler's life. Because of his influence, for the first few years of the Bundeswehr he was seen as the unofficial chief of staff. Even later, his birthday parties were regularly attended by official delegations of Bundeswehr and NATO top leaders such as General Hans Speidel who was the Commander-in-Chief of the Allied ground forces in Central Europe from 1957 to 1963. This was not the case with other Field Marshals such as Milch, Schörner, von Küchler and others, who were disregarded and forgotten after the war. By the mid-1950s, Manstein had become the object of a vast cult centered around him, which portrayed him as not only as one of Germany's greatest generals, but also one of the world's greatest generals ever. Manstein was described as a militärische Kult- und Leitfigur (military cult legend), a general of legendary, almost mythical ability and superhuman skill, much honored by both the public and historians. Erich von Manstein suffered a stroke and died in Munich on the night of 9 June 1973. He was buried with full military honours. His obituary in The Times on 13 June 1973, stated that "His influence and effect came from powers of mind and depth of knowledge rather than by generating an electrifying current among the troops or 'putting over' his personality." 20
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The Reichswehr (German for "Imperial Defence") formed the military organization of Germany from 1919 until 1935, when it was renamed the Wehrmacht ("Defence Force"). At the end of World War I, the forces of the German Empire had mostly split up, the men making their way home individually or in small groups. Many of them joined the Freikorps ("Free Corps"), a collection of volunteer paramilitary units that were involved in revolution and border clashes between 1918 and 1923. The newly formed Weimar Republic did need a military though, and on 6 March 1919 a decree established the Vorläufige Reichswehr ("Provisional National Defence"), consisting of a Vorläufige Reichsheer ("Provisional National Army") and a Vorläufige Reichsmarine ("Provisional National Navy"). On 30 September 1919, the army was reorganized as the Übergangsheer ("Transitional Army"). About 400,000 men served in the armed forces. This lasted until 1 January 1921, when the Reichswehr was officially established according to the limitations imposed by the Treaty of Versailles (Articles 159 to 213). 23 A quaint irony when one recalls that, in 1921, the Germans were about to embark on another marriage of convenience - co-operation with Red Russia through the Rapallo Treaty. 24 The Truppenamt or 'Troop Office' was the cover organisation for the German General Staff from 1919 through until 1933 when the General Staff was re-created. This subterfuge was deemed necessary in order for Germany to be seen to meet the requirements of the Versailles Treaty. It completely revised German tactical and strategic doctrine and thereby conserved, reenergised and unified the military thinking and capability of the Reichswehr, later to become the Wehrmacht. The Versailles Treaty specified that the post-World War I German army could have a maximum strength of 100,000, of this number only 4000 could be officers. At the same time, the General Staff was to be abolished. In late 1919, soon after the treaty was agreed, Hans von Seeckt the head of the General Staff dissolved the General Staff and initiated a programme to rethink and rewrite German doctrine as well as reorganise the Army to comply with the treaty. In 1920, when von Seeckt was appointed chief of the army command this expanded to rebuilding a new army from scratch. When the General Staff was dissolved in 1919, its Operations Section became the Truppenamt whilst other sections of the Staff were transferred to government departments: the history section to the Interior Ministry Reich Archives, the Survey and Maps section to the Interior Ministry Survey Office and the Transportation section to the Transportation Ministry. The Economic and Political sections were placed directly under the control of the chief of the Army Command. Thus the core of the General Staff became the four new sections of the Truppenamt: T1 the Army section (operations and planning), T2 the organisation section, T3 the statistical section (actually intelligence) and T4 the training section. As von Seeckt said at the time "the form changes, the spirit remains the same". Alongside the Truppenamt in the new army high command were the Weapons Office and branch inspectorates. The relationship between these three entities was very close since between them they determined materiel, doctrine and training. In the early 1920s, the Truppenamt contained a transportation section, T7 (there never was a T5 or T6). Altogether these three bodies contained two hundred officers, almost all ex-General Staff, who formed an efficient and practical organisation for guiding the rebuilding of the Reichswehr. 22
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The Sturmabteilung (SA) ; Storm Detachment or Assault Division) or Brownshirts) functioned as the original paramilitary wing of the Nazi Party. It played a key role in Adolf Hitler's rise to power in the 1920s and 1930s. Their main assignments were providing protection for Nazi rallies and assemblies; the disruption of opposing political parties and the fight against their paramilitary units (esp. the Rotfrontkämpferbund); and the intimidation of Jewish citizens (eg. the Nazi boycott of Jewish businesses). The SA was the first Nazi paramilitary group to develop pseudo-military titles for bestowal upon its members. The SA ranks were adopted by several other Nazi Party groups, chief amongst them the SS, itself originally a branch of the SA. SA men were often called "brownshirts" for the colour of their uniforms (similar to Benito Mussolini's blackshirts). Brown-coloured shirts were chosen as the SA uniform because a large batch of them were cheaply available after World War I, having originally been ordered during the war for colonial troops posted to Germany's former African colonies. The SA became disempowered after Adolf Hitler ordered the "Blood purge" of 1934. This event became known as the Night of the Long Knives. The SA was effectively superseded by the SS, although it was not formally dissolved and banned until after the Third Reich's final capitulation to the Allied powers in 1945. 26 Ernst Volckheim (11 April 1898 – 1 September 1962) was one of the founders of armored and mechanized warfare. A German officer in the First and Second World War, Volkheim rose to the rank of a German Lieutenant Colonel, during World War II in the German Army. Little known outside of professional military and historical circles, Volkheim is considered the foremost military academic influence on German tank war proponent, Heinz Guderian, because both Volkheim's teaching as well as his 1924 professional military articles place him as one of the very earliest theorists of armored warfare and the use of German armored formations including independent tank corps. Ernst Volckheim joined the Army in 1915 as a war volunteer and in 1916 was made an officer, at the rank of lieutenant. In 1917 he was given command of a machine gun company and served on the Western Front in the Imperial German Army, Reichswehr and Wehrmacht during the First World War. In April, 1918, as a member of the imperial tank corps, Volckheim fought in the Battle of Villers-Bretonneux and won the tank battle's armor insignia. Shortly before the end of the war he was severely wounded. With the end of World War I, Volkheim was elected to the newly established Reichswehr, and served in the rank of lieutenant in the Kraftfahrtruppe. With his transfer to an inspector of transport troops in 1923, Volckheim also began his theoretical work on the use of armored vehicle as an element of combat leadership. In 1925, Volckheim, a young lieutenant, was ordered to the officer school in Dresden and there began to teach armored combat theory and operational concepts including in the use of motorized troops. Between 1923 and 1927, he published numerous articles and books on the subject of armored combat in the military journal, Militär Wochenblatt. (Military Weekly). This work caught the attention of retired General Konstantin Altrock, the publisher of the newspaper, Militär Wochenblatt. Soon, Volckheim became the magazine's editor in chief and frequent contributor to the monthly magazine. From 1932 to 1933, Volckheim was a tactics instructor training Soviet military exchange officer instructors at the secret German-Soviet tank school "Kama" in Kazan. There, Volckheim both lectured and gained practical experience with tanks and motorized warfare. In the late 1930s, he worked on the development of the guiding principles of armored combat doctrine for the newly developed and still largely secret German armored forces. Lieutenant Volckheim (arrow) with his World War 1 "506" crew next to their tank, "Old Fritz" shortly before the end of the war 25
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Sir Basil Henry Liddell Hart (31 October 1895 – 29 January 1970), usually known before his knighthood as Captain B. H. Liddell Hart, was an English soldier, military historian and leading inter-war theorist. Born in Paris as the son of an English Methodist minister, Liddell Hart received his formal academic education at St Paul's School in London and at Corpus Christi College, Cambridge. On the outbreak of World War I in 1914 he became an officer in the Kings Own Yorkshire Light Infantry and saw action on the Western Front. Liddell Hart's total time in combat measured some seven weeks over a period of two years before the Army downgraded him to "light duties" in 1916 due to the after-effects of gassing. Transferred eventually as Inspector General of Training to the British Armies in France via various appointments in the United Kingdom training volunteer battalion (4th-line units), he contributed to the post-war official manual of Infantry Training published in 1920. After the war he transferred to the Army Educational Corps. When Guderian wrote his memoirs, the edition published in Germany differed from the one published in the United Kingdom. In the German version no mention is made of the "English" influence. The German version was published before the British copy. An explanation can be found in the correspondence between the two men. In one letter to Guderian, Liddell Hart asked the German general to give him credit for giving the Wehrmacht its tactical-operational method in 1940: You might care to insert a remark that I emphasized the use of armoured forces for long-range operations against the opposing Army's communications, and also the proposed type of armoured division combining Panzer and Panzer-infantry units - and that these points particularly impressed you. 28 The A7V was a tank introduced by Germany in 1918, near the end of World War I. One hundred vehicles were ordered during the spring of 1918, but only 20 were delivered. It was nicknamed "The Moving Fortress by the British because of the shape of the hull. They were used in action from March to October of that year, and were the only tanks produced by Germany in World War I to be used in operations. The first prototype was completed by Daimler-MotorenGesellschaft at Berlin-Marienfelde and tested on 30 April 1917. A wooden mockup of a final version was completed in May 1917 and demonstrated in Mainz with 10 tons of ballast to simulate armor. During final design the rear-facing cannon was removed and the number of machineguns was increased to six. The first pre-production A7V was produced in September 1917, followed by the first production model in October 1917. The tanks were given to Assault Tank Units 1 and 2, founded on 20 September 1917, each with five officers and 109 NCOs and soldiers. A7V Tank, Mephisto, at Queensland Museum in Brisbane, Australia. 29 General Oswald Lutz (6 November 1876 – 26 February 1944) was a German General who oversaw the motorization of the German Army in the late 1920s and early 1930s and was appointed as the first General der Panzertruppe of the Wehrmacht in 1935. He joined the Bavarian Army Railway Battalion as an officer cadet in 1894 and was commissioned as a Leutnant in the 1st Bavarian Engineer Battalion in 1896. After service in the German Imperial Army in World War I, he was retained in the Reichswehr, in which he attained the rank of Oberstleutnant in 1923, Oberst in 1928, and Generalmajor on 1 April 1931, upon his appointment as the Inspector of Motor Transport Troops. On 1 October 1931, Oberstleutnant Heinz Guderian was appointed his chief-of-staff. Lutz then continued to oversee the motorization of the army, whilst Guderian created Germany's armoured forces and developed his influential Panzer theory, which was widely publicized. Major Walter Nehring joined them in January 1932 and further developed the Panzer strategy. Lutz was promoted to Generalleutnant on 1 February 1933, and became the first General der Panzertruppe on 1 November 1935 with his appointment as the Head of Mechanized Forces. He was retired from active duty in February 1938. During World War II he was recalled to service and appointed on 22 September 1941 to head a minor special staff unit before being retired again on 31 May 1942. He died in Munich in 1944 aged 67 following an illness. 27
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Heinrich Alfred Hermann Walther von Brauchitsch (4 October 1881-18 October 1948) was a German field marshal and the Oberbefehlshaber des Heeres (Commander of the Heer (Army)) in the early years of World War II. Brauchitsch was born in Berlin as the fifth son of a cavalry general. He attended the Französisches Gymnasium Berlin. Brauchitsch was commissioned in the Prussian Guard in 1900. By World War I, he was appointed to the General Staff. In 1910, he married Elizabeth von Karstedt, a wealthy heiress to 300,000 acres (1,200 km2) in Pomerania. Brauchitsch was promoted to Generalfeldmarshall in 1940 and was key in Hitler's "blitzkrieg" war against the West, making modifications to the original plan to overrun France. After France was conquered, Operation Sea Lion—the invasion of Britain—was planned. Had it succeeded, Hitler intended to place Brauchitsch in charge of the new conquest. However, the Luftwaffe could not gain the requisite air superiority, and the plan was abandoned. Brauchitsch agreed with harsh measures against the Polish population claiming they were inevitable for securing the German Lebensraum and ordered to his army and commanders that criticism of Nazism racist policy should cease as Nazi policy was needed for "forthcoming battle of destiny of the German people". When Germany turned east and invaded the Soviet Union in 1941, the Army's failure to take Moscow earned Hitler's enmity. Things went further downhill for Brauchitsch as he endured a serious heart attack, and Hitler relieved him on 10 December. Brauchitsch spent the last three war years in the Tři Trubky hunting lodge in the Brdy mountains southwest of Prague. One of the few public comments he made after his retirement was a statement condemning the attempt on Hitler's life. After the war, Brauchitsch was arrested and charged with war crimes, but died in Hamburg in 1948 before he could be prosecuted 31 Leichttraktor: Between 1926 and 1932, Rheinmetall-Borsig, MAN, Krupp and Daimler Benz were ordered by Reichswehr to build prototypes of light (10-12 tons) and medium tanks (to 23 tons) under the cover name of "tractor" in order to hide their military potential from the Treaty of Versailles. Prototypes were tested from 1926 to 1933 at Kama (Panzertruppenschule Kama), near Kazan in USSR under high security. Kama was the codename created by words Kazan and Malbrandt. Oberstleutenant Malbrandt was the one, who selected the location for artillery and tank testing. Kama was joined Red Army and Reichswehr training and testing ground of military technology. This was part of German - Soviet treaty from Rapallo signed in 1922, which focused on development of military technology as well as Berlin Friendship Treaty of 1924. Their designs were based on lessons learned with the development of Leichte Kampfwagen I and II (19181919), which existed only as prototypes. 32 Erwin Johannes Eugen Rommel (15 November 1891 – 14 October 1944), popularly known as the Desert Fox, was a German Field Marshal of World War II. He won the respect of both his own troops and the enemies he fought. He was a highly decorated officer in World War I, and was awarded the Pour le Mérite for his exploits on the Italian front. In World War II, he further distinguished himself as the commander of the 7th Panzer Division during the 1940 invasion of France. However, it was his leadership of German and Italian forces in the North African campaign that established the legend of the Desert Fox. He is considered to have been one of the most skilled commanders of desert warfare in the conflict. He later commanded the German forces opposing the Allied cross-channel invasion in Normandy. As one of the few generals who consistently fought the Western Allies (he was never assigned to the Eastern Front), Rommel is regarded as having been a humane and professional officer. His Afrikakorps was never accused of war crimes. Soldiers captured during his Africa campaign were reported to have been treated humanely. Furthermore, he ignored orders to kill captured commandos, Jewish soldiers and civilians in all theaters of his command. Late in the war, Rommel was linked to the conspiracy to kill Adolf Hitler. Because Rommel was widely renowned, Hitler chose to eliminate him quietly; in trade for assurances his family would be spared, Rommel agreed to commit suicide. After the war, when Rommel's alleged involvement in the plot to kill Hitler became known, his stature was enhanced greatly among the former Allied nations. Rommel was often cited in Western sources as a general who, though a loyal German, was willing to stand up to Hitler. The release of the film The Desert Fox: The Story of Rommel (1951) helped to further enhance his reputation as one of the most widely known and well-regarded leaders in the German Army. In 1970 a Lütjens-class destroyer was named the Rommel in his honour. 30
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Panzerwaffe (German for "Armoured Force", "Armoured Arm" or "Tank Force". Waffe: [combat] "arm") refers to a command within the Heer of the German Wehrmacht, responsible for the affairs of panzer (tank) and motorized forces shortly before and during the Second World War. It was originally known as Schnelltruppen ("Fast Troops"); a motorized command established in the Reichswehr following the First World War, redesignated as Panzerwaffe in 1936 by Generalleutnant Heinz Guderian. The men of the Panzerwaffe, are referred to as Panzertruppen (Armoured Troops), were distinguishable by their close fitting black uniforms, known as Panzer wraps. After 1943, the Panzerwaffe, like most other German branches of service, had relaxed the uniform rules and many Panzertruppen wore a variety of clothing, including camouflage and winter items. The mainstay of the Panzerwaffe was the Panzer division. These consisted of a panzer brigade (two tank regiments) and two motorized or mechanized infantry regiments. All forces of a Panzer division were mobile. Support elements included self-propelled artillery, selfpropelled anti-tank, and armored reconnaissance cars. After the campaigns in Poland and France, the Panzer divisions were reduced in size, with only one Panzerregiment per Division. This move was taken to allow the creation of several new divisions with the available tanks. During World War II the German army also fielded a number of Panzergrenadier divisions consisting of motorized infantry (or armored infantry for some of the battalions, when sufficient half-tracked armored carriers were available), with self-propelled artillery and Jagdpanzer, and in some cases a significant panzer component. A panzer corps consisted of two to three divisions and auxiliary attachments. Panzergruppen ("Panzer Groups") were commands larger than a corps, approximately the size of an army, and named after their commander (e.g. Panzergruppe Hoth). These were later recognized as Panzerarmeen ("Panzer Armies"), an army-level command of two to three corps. These higher-level organizations almost always mixed ordinary infantry units with the Panzerwaffe. (Folklore holds that in 1944 there was a Panzerarmee fighting in Italy which controlled only one Panzerkorps along with other assets, and that Panzerkorps controlled only one Panzer division, and that division only had four operable tanks, with the result that the entire Panzerarmee had the actual armored strength of a tank platoon.) Significant numbers of panzer and motorized formations were of the Waffen-SS. These did not fall under the Panzerwaffe administratively, although operationally they were organized and fought as part of army formations and under army command. 34 The National Socialist German Workers' Party (German: Nationalsozialistische Deutsche Arbeiterpartei (help¡info), abbreviated NSDAP), commonly known in English in short form as the Nazi Party, was a political party in Germany between 1920 and 1945. Its predecessor, the German Workers' Party (DAP), existed from 1919 to 1920. The term Nazi is German and stems from Nationalsozialist, due to the pronunciation of Latin -tion- as -tsion- in German (rather than -shon- as it is in English), with German Z being pronounced as 'ts' as well. The party was founded out of the current of the far-right racist vÜlkisch German nationalist movement and the violent anti-communist Freikorps paramilitary culture that fought against the uprisings of communist revolutionaries in post-World War I Germany. The party was created by Anton Drexler as a means to draw workers away from communism and into vÜlkisch nationalism. Initially, Nazi political strategy focused on anti-big business, anti-bourgeois, and anti-capitalist rhetoric, although such aspects were later downplayed in order to gain the support of industrial entities, and in the 1930's the party's focus shifted to anti-Semitic and anti-Marxist themes. The term Nazi derives from the first two syllables of Nationalsozialistische Deutsche Arbeiterpartei (NSDAP, Nazi Party). The German term Nazi parallels the term Sozi (pronounced /zo tsi/), an abbreviation of Sozialdemokratische Partei Deutschlands (Social Democratic Party of Germany). The term Nazi was originally used by southern German opponents of the NSDAP, and may have been influenced by the Bavarian term Nazi, which was a familiar form of the name Ignatz, which was used colloquially to mean a "clumsy or awkward person". 33
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Kurt Gebhard Adolf Philipp Freiherr von Hammerstein-Equord (September 26, 1878 – April 25, 1943) was a German general who served for a period as Commander-in-Chief of the Reichswehr. He is famous for being an ardent opponent of Hitler and the Nazi regime. Born to a noble family in Hinrichshagen, Mecklenburg-Strelitz, Germany in 1878, Baron von Hammerstein-Equord joined the German Army on 15 March 1898. In 1907 Hammerstein married Maria von Lüttwitz, the daughter of Walther von Lüttwitz. He was attached to the General Staff during World War I and participated in the Battle of Turtucaia. Hammerstein-Equord was loyal to the Weimar Republic, opposing the Kapp-Lüttwitz putsch in 1920. He served as Chief of Staff of the 3rd Division from 1924, as Chief of Staff of the I Group Command in 1929, and as Head of Troops in the Office Ministry of War from 1929. A close friend of Kurt von Schleicher, he was appointed Commander-in-Chief of the Reichswehr in 1930, replacing General Wilhelm Heye. Heinrich Brüning, leader of the Catholic Center party, who served as German chancellor between 1930 and 1932, called Hammerstein-Equord "the only man who could remove Hitler — a man without nerves». According to the reminiscences of his son Kunrat von Hammerstein, Hammerstein-Equord resigned from the Club of Nobility when they threw out their non-Aryan members in 1934 or 1935, and spoke of "organized mass murder" of the Jews before the summer of 1942. He supplied his daughter Maria-Therese von Hammerstein-Paasche with the names of Jews who were scheduled for deportation or arrest, enabling her to warn or hide them. Two of his sons, Ludwig and Kunrat, took part in a failed plot to kill Hitler and replace the Nazi regime with a new government on 20 July 1944, fleeing Germany in its aftermath. His widow and two younger children were then deported to a concentration camp, and freed only when the Allied Forces liberated the camps in 1945. 36 Werner Eduard Fritz von Blomberg (2 September 1878 – 14 March 1946) was a German Generalfeldmarschall, Minister of War and Commander-in-Chief of the Armed Forces until January 1938. Born in Stargard, Pomerania, Prussia (present-day Stargard Szczeciński, West Pomeranian Voivodeship), Werner von Blomberg joined the army in 1897 and attended the Prussian Military Academy in 1904. In April 1904, he married Charlotte Hellmich. After graduating in 1907, Blomberg entered the General Staff in 1908. Serving with distinction on the Western Front during World War I, Blomberg was awarded the Pour le Mérite. In 1920, Blomberg was appointed Chief of Staff of the Döberitz Brigade, and in 1921 was made Chief of Staff of the Stuttgart Army Area. In 1925, Blomberg was made Chief of Army Training by General Hans von Seeckt. By 1927, Blomberg was a major-general and Chief of the Troop Office. In 1928, Blomberg visited the Soviet Union, where he was much impressed by the high status of the Red Army, and left a convinced believer in the value of dictatorship as the prerequisite for military power. After arguing with the powerful General Kurt von Schleicher in 1929, however, Blomberg was removed from his post and made military commander of East Prussia. During his time as commander of ''Wehrkreis'' I, the military district which comprised East Prussia, Blomberg fell under the influence of a Nazi-sympathizing Lutheran chaplain, Ludwig Müller, who introduced Blomberg to National Socialism. Blomberg and his wife were subsequently exiled for a year to the isle of Capri. Spending World War II in obscurity, Blomberg was captured by the Allies in 1945, after which time he gave evidence at the Nuremberg Trials. While in detention at Nuremberg, Blomberg died of cancer on 14 March 1946, and was buried without ceremony in an unmarked grave. Later, his remains were cremated and interred in his residence in Bad Wiessee. 35
In a statement to the Allies in 1945, General der Infanterie Georg Thomas, the highly efficient head of the Economic and Armament Branch of Oberkommando der Wehrmacht (OKW which was created in 1934), gave it as his opinion that 'up to 1937 Hitler never had any intention of starting a war but that he believed he could, through putting over a bluff of rapid re-armament, reach his goal by peaceable means . . . Hitler attached much importance to the possession of much heavy artillery, many mechanical weapons and anti-tank weapons. The great importance of the tanks was not recognised until the success in the Polish campaign.' Thomas was in a good position to know. 37
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Werner Thomas Ludwig Freiherr von Fritsch (4 August 1880 – 22 September 1939) was a prominent Wehrmacht officer, member of the German High Command, and the second German general to be killed during World War II. Von Fritsch was born in Benrath in the Rhine Province of the German Empire. He entered the Imperial German Army (Reichsheer) at the age of 18, and won the attention of the German General Staff with his superior military qualities. In 1901, at the age of 21, he transferred to the Prussian Military Academy (Preußische Kriegsakademie). As a First Lieutenant (Oberleutnant) in 1911, he was appointed to the General Staff. During World War I, he gradually increased in importance and received, among other awards, the Iron Cross First Class and a black wound badge for a head wound he received while visiting the front lines. Werner von Fritsch was the second German general to be killed in combat in World War II—the first being Generalmajor der Ordnungspolizei and SS Brigadeführer Wilhelm Fritz von Roettig (KIA on 10 September 1939 (around 14:15) near Opoczno, Poland). As von Fritsch was the second general killed in action, the event was closely examined. It is believed that he deliberately sought death. Von Fritsch received a ceremonial state funeral four days later in Berlin. 39 Walter von Reichenau (8 October 1884 – 17 January 1942) was a German Generalfeldmarschall during World War II. Reichenau was born in Karlsruhe, Baden-Württemberg to a Prussian general and joined the German Army in 1903. During World War I he served on the Western Front. He was awarded the Iron Cross First Class and by 1918 had been promoted to the rank of captain. Reichenau stayed in the army under the Weimar Republic as a General Staff officer. From 1931 he was Chief of Staff to the Inspector of Signals at the Reichswehr Ministry, and later served with General Werner von Blomberg in East Prussia. His uncle, an ardent Nazi, introduced him to Adolf Hitler in 1932 and von Reichenau became a convert, joining the Nazi Party soon after. Doing so was a violation of army regulations, which forbade army members from joining political parties.Reichenau supported the work of the SS Einsatzgruppen in exterminating the Jews in the occupied Soviet territories. On 19 December 1941 Hitler sacked Walther von Brauchitsch as Commander-in-Chief and tried to appoint von Reichenau to the post. But again the senior Army leaders rejected von Reichenau as being "too political" and Hitler appointed himself instead. In January 1942 von Reichenau suffered a cerebral haemorrhage, and it was decided to fly him from Poltava to a hospital in Leipzig, Germany. He is often said to have been killed in a plane crash in Russia, though Görlitz writes that the plane merely made an emergency landing in a field, and that von Reichenau actually died of a heart attack. His death coincided in time with a propaganda action conducted by the Polish underground (Operation Reichenau), whose goal was to discredit Reichenau, in the eyes of the German leadership, as a person who allegedly had been plotting to overthrow the Nazi régime, to sow distrust between the Nazi political leadership and its military command, and punish one of the German generals responsible for war crimes in Poland. This coincidence became a fertile ground for conspiracy theories, which allege that Reichenau might actually have been killed by the Nazi secret services. 40 General der Panzertruppe (Literally: General of the Armoured Corps) was a rank of German Army General introduced by the Wehrmacht in 1935. As the commander of a Panzer Corp this rank corresponds to a US Army Lieutenant-General. With the formation of the Bundeswehr in 1955, general ranks were changed to follow US Army structure hence a General moved up one position to command of an army, a position formerly held by a Generaloberst. The rank was equivalent to the long established General der Kavallerie, General der Artillerie and General der Infanterie. The Wehrmacht also introduced General der Gebirgstruppen (mountain troops), General der Pioniere (engineers), General der Fallschirmtruppen (parachute troops), General der Flieger (aviators) and General der Nachrichtentruppen (communications troops). 38
41
Guderian in 1915 with Gretel and Heinz-Günther
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Generaloberst Ludwig August Theodor Beck (29 June 1880 – 20 July 1944) was a German general and Chief of the German General Staff during the early years of the Nazi regime in Germany before World War II. Ludwig Beck was never a member of the Nazi Party, though in the early 1930s he supported Adolf Hitler's forceful denunciation of the Versailles Treaty and belief in the need for Germany to rearm. Beck had grave misgivings regarding the Nazi demand that all German officers swear an oath of fealty to the person of Hitler in 1934, though he believed that Germany needed strong government and that Hitler could successfully provide this so long as he was influenced by traditional elements within the military rather than the SA and SS. In serving as Chief of Staff of the German Army between 1935-8 Beck became increasingly disillusioned in this respect, standing in opposition to the increasing authoritarianism of the Nazi regime and Hitler's aggressive foreign policy. It was due to public foreign policy disagreements with Hitler that Beck resigned as Chief of Staff in August 1938. From this point Beck came to believe that Hitler could not be influenced for good, and that both Hitler and the Nazi party needed to be removed from government. He became a major leader within the conspiracy against Hitler, and would have been provisional head of state had the 20 July plot succeeded. When the plot failed, Beck chose to commit suicide with a pistol. 43 Friedrich Wilhelm Ernst Paulus (23 September 1890 – 1 February 1957) was an officer in the German military from 1910 to 1945. He attained the rank of Generalfeldmarschall (field marshal) during World War II, and is best known for having commanded the Sixth Army's assault on Stalingrad during Operation Blue in 1942. The battle ended in disaster for Nazi Germany when approximately 270,000 soldiers of the Wehrmacht, Axis allies and Hilfswillige were encircled and defeated in a massive Soviet counterattack in November 1942, with casualties reaching as high as 740,000. Paulus surrendered to Soviet forces in Stalingrad on 31 January 1943, a day after he was promoted to the rank of Generalfeldmarschall by Adolf Hitler. Hitler expected Paulus to commit suicide, citing the fact that there was no record of a German field marshal ever being captured alive. While in Soviet captivity during the war Paulus became a vocal critic of the Nazi regime and joined the Russian-sponsored National Committee for a Free Germany. He was not released until 1953. During the Nuremberg Trials, Paulus was asked about the Stalingrad prisoners by a journalist. Paulus told the journalist to tell the wives and mothers that their husbands and sons were well. Of the 91,000 German prisoners taken at Stalingrad, half had died on the march to Siberian prison camps, nearly as many died in captivity; only about 6,000 returned home. From 1953 to 1956, he lived in Dresden, East Germany, where he worked as the civilian chief of the East German Military History Research Institute and not, as often wrongly described, as an inspector of police. In late 1956, he developed motor neurone disease and was eventually left paralyzed. He died in Dresden on 1 February 1957, exactly 14 years after he surrendered at Stalingrad. His body was brought for burial in Baden next to that of his wife, who had died in 1949 having not seen her husband since his departure for the Eastern front in the summer of 1942 42
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Blitzkrieg (German, "lightning war"; is an anglicised word describing all-motorised force concentration of tanks, infantry, artillery, combat engineers and air power, concentrating overwhelming force at high speed to break through enemy lines, and, once the lines are broken, proceeding without regard to its flank. Through constant motion, the blitzkrieg attempts to keep its enemy off-balance, making it difficult to respond effectively at any given point before the front has already moved on. During the interwar period, aircraft and tank technologies matured and were combined with systematic application of the German tactics of infiltration and bypassing of enemy strong points. When Germany invaded Poland in 1939, Western journalists adopted the term blitzkrieg to describe this form of armoured warfare. Blitzkrieg operations were very effective during the campaigns of 1939–1941. These operations were dependent on surprise penetrations (e.g. the penetration of the Ardennes forest region), general enemy unpreparedness and an inability to react swiftly enough to the attacker's offensive operations. The concepts associated with the term blitzkrieg – deep penetrations by armour, large encirclements, and combined arms attacks – were largely dependent upon terrain and weather conditions. Where the ability for rapid movement across “tank country” was not possible, armoured penetrations were often avoided or resulted in failure. Terrain would ideally be flat, firm, unobstructed by natural barriers or fortifications, and interspersed with roads and railways. If it was instead hilly, wooded, marshy, or urban, armour would be vulnerable to infantry in close-quarters combat and unable to break out at full speed. Additionally, units could be halted by mud (thawing along the Eastern Front regularly slowed both sides) or extreme snow. Armour, motorised and aerial support was also naturally dependent on weather. It should however be noted that the disadvantages of such terrain could be nullified if surprise was achieved over the enemy by an attack through such terrain. During the Battle of France, the German blitzkrieg-style attack on France went through the Ardennes. There is little doubt that the hilly, heavily wooded Ardennes could have been relatively easily defended by the Allies, even against the bulk of the German armoured units. However, precisely because the French thought the Ardennes unsuitable for massive troop movement, particularly for tanks, they were left with only light defences which were quickly overrun by the Wehrmacht. The Germans quickly advanced through the forest, knocking down the trees the French thought would impede this tactic. 45 Josef "Sepp" Dietrich (28 May 1892 – 21 April 1966) was a German SS General. He was one of Nazi Germany's most decorated soldiers and commanded formations up to Army level during World War II. Prior to 1929 he was Adolf Hitler's chauffeur and bodyguard but received rapid promotion after his participation in the murder of Hitler's political opponents during the Night of the Long Knives. After the war, he was imprisoned by the United States for war crimes and later by Germany for murder. Sepp Dietrich was born in Hawangen, near Memmingen in Bavaria, Germany on 28 May 1892, son of Pelagius Dietrich and his wife Kreszentia. He worked as a butcher and hotel servant. In 1911 he joined the Bavarian Army for a short time. Volunteering at the beginning of the First World War, he served with the artillery, as a paymaster sergeant and later in the first German tank troops. After the war, Dietrich served briefly in a Freikorps Oberland against the Bavarian Soviet Republic, May 1919. Thereafter, he migrated from one job to another, including waiter, policeman, foreman, farm labourer, petrol station attendant and customs officer. He joined the Nazi Party (NSDAP) in 1928 and became commander of Hitler's Schutzstaffel (SS) bodyguard. His NSDAP number was 89,015 and his SS number was 1,117. Dietrich had been introduced to Nazism by Christian Weber, who was his employer at the Tankstelle-Blau-Bock filling station in Munich. He accompanied Hitler on his tours around Germany. Later Hitler arranged other jobs, including various SS posts, and let him live in the Reich Chancellery. The post-war West German government denied Dietrich any form of a military pension. When his former soldiers learned of his straitened circumstances, thousands of them contributed to a fund which provided their old commander with a comfortable pension. In 1966 Dietrich died of a heart attack in Ludwigsburg at age 73. Seven thousand of his wartime comrades came to his funeral. He was eulogized by former SS-Obergruppenführer und General der Waffen-SS Wilhelm Bittrich. 44
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Wilhelm Josef Ritter von Thoma (11 September 1891 – 30 April 1948) was a German officer who served in World War I, in the Spanish Civil War, and as a General der Panzertruppe in World War II. Von Thoma was born in Dachau in 1891. From 1903 he attended the humanist Ludwigs-Gymnasium (secondary school) in Munich and attained his certificate of graduation in 1912. He began his military career when he joined the Royal Bavarian Army on 23 September 1912, as a Fahnenjunker (cadet) with the Bavarian 3. Infanterie-Regiment (3rd Infantry Regiment) "Prinz Karl von Bayern." He attended the War School in Munich from 1 October 1913 to 1 August 1914. In late 1945, SS-Brigadeführer Kurt Meyer, captured in Belgium in September 1944 while commanding the 12th SS-Panzer Division "Hitler Jugend", arrived at Trent Park and noted that von Thoma, the German camp leader, was "…highly thought of by the English. Relations between him and the guards is excellent.» Churchill's high regard for von Thoma is evident from his many later quotations of von Thoma's opinions on strategic matters, especially in his book about the war. After Montgomery invited von Thoma to dine with him in his private trailer, Churchill remarked: "I sympathize with General von Thoma: Defeated, in captivity and... (long pause for dramatic effect) dinner with Montgomery." In 1945, von Thoma had one of his legs amputated at Wilton Park and was fitted with an artificial limb in Cardiff. Only a few months after repatriation von Thoma died of a heart attack in 1948 in Söcking, Germany. 47 Johannes Albrecht Blaskowitz (10 July 1883 – 5 February 1948) was a German general during World War II. He was also a recipient of the Knight's Cross of the Iron Cross with Oak Leaves and Swords (German: Ritterkreuz des Eisernen Kreuzes mit Eichenlaub und Schwertern). The Knight's Cross of the Iron Cross and its higher grade Oak Leaves and Swords was awarded to recognise extreme battlefield bravery or successful military leadership. Johannes Blaskowitz was born on July 10, 1883, in Paterswalde, Kreis Wehlau (East Prussia), now in Kaliningrad Oblast. His father was a Lutheran pastor. In 1894, Blaskowitz joined cadet school at Köslin (Koszalin) and also afterwards at Berlin Lichterfelde. In 1901, he started his military career as a Fähnrich in an East Prussian regiment in Osterode (Ostróda). Blaskowitz remained unoccupied for some time, until in December 1944 he was suddenly recalled and ordered to attack in the vicinity of Alsace-Lorraine in support of the ongoing Ardennes offensive. On 1 January 1945 Army Group G hit the US 7th Army during Operation Nordwind, forcing them to withdraw. Blaskowitz was subsequently transferred to Holland, where he succeeded Kurt Student as commander of Army Group H. For the following three months he conducted a fighting withdrawal against the British 2nd Army, being awarded the Swords to his Knights Cross. This command was redesignated in early April 1945 and Blaskowitz became commander-in-chief of the northern (still occupied) part of the Netherlands. Despite ruling the troops under his command with an iron hand, and threatening to execute deserters, from April 29, Blaskowitz allowed Allied airdrops of food and medicine to the Dutch civilian population. Blaskowitz was charged with war crimes during the Nuremberg Trials in the High Command Trial (Case No. XII), but died on February 5, 1948 by committing suicide. After breaking away from his guards he threw himself off a balcony into the inner courtyard of the court building. 46
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Franz Halder (30 June 1884 – 2 April 1972) was a German General and the chief of the Army General Staff from 1938 until September, 1942, when he was dismissed after frequent disagreements with Adolf Hitler. Halder was born in Würzburg to General Max Halder. In 1902 he joined the 3rd Royal Bavarian Field Artillery Regiment in Munich. He was promoted to lieutenant in 1904 upon graduation from War School in Munich, then he attended Artillery School (1906– 07) and the Bavarian Staff College (War Academy) (1911–1914), both in Munich. Halder participated in the strategic planning for all operations of the first part of the war. For his role in the planning and preparing of the invasion of Poland he received the Knight's Cross of the Iron Cross on 27 October 1939. On 1 September 1939 Germany invaded Poland and thereby started World War II. On 19 September Halder noted in his diary that he had received information from then SS-Gruppenführer Reinhard Heydrich that the SS (Einsatzgruppen) was beginning its campaign to "clean house" in Poland of Jews, intelligentsia, Catholic Clergy, and the aristocracy. This led to future criticism by historians that Halder knew about the killings of Jews much earlier than he later acknowledged during post-World War II interviews, and that he failed to object to such killings. Halder noted in his diary his doubts "about the measures intended by Himmler". On 20 July 1944 a group of German army officers attempted to assassinate Hitler. The following day Halder was arrested by the Gestapo, although he was not involved in the assassination attempt. As Hitler considered Halder a possible leader who could overthrow him, Halder was imprisoned at both the Flossenbürg and the Dachau concentration camps. Halder's wife Gertrud chose to and was allowed to accompany her husband into imprisonment. On 31 January 1945 Halder was officially dismissed from the army. In the last days of April 1945, together with some members of families of the July 20 plot and other 'special' prisoners he was transferred to the South Tyrol, where the entire group of nearly 140 prisoners was liberated from their SS guards by members of the Wehrmacht, and then turned over to US troops on May 4 after the SS guards fled. Halder spent the next two years in an Allied prisoner of war camp. 49 Heinrich Alfred Hermann Walther von Brauchitsch (4 October 1881-18 October 1948) was a German field marshal and the Oberbefehlshaber des Heeres (Commander of the Heer (Army)) in the early years of World War II. Brauchitsch was born in Berlin as the fifth son of a cavalry general. He attended the Französisches Gymnasium Berlin. Brauchitsch was commissioned in the Prussian Guard in 1900. By World War I, he was appointed to the General Staff. In 1910, he married Elizabeth von Karstedt, a wealthy heiress to 300,000 acres (1,200 km2) in Pomerania. Brauchitsch was promoted to Generalfeldmarshall in 1940 and was key in Hitler's "blitzkrieg" war against the West, making modifications to the original plan to overrun France. After France was conquered, Operation Sea Lion - the invasion of Britain - was planned. Had it succeeded, Hitler intended to place Brauchitsch in charge of the new conquest. However, the Luftwaffe could not gain the requisite air superiority, and the plan was abandoned. Brauchitsch agreed with harsh measures against the Polish population claiming they were inevitable for securing the German Lebensraum and ordered to his army and commanders that criticism of Nazism racist policy should cease as Nazi policy was needed for "forthcoming battle of destiny of the German people". When Germany turned east and invaded the Soviet Union in 1941, the Army's failure to take Moscow earned Hitler's enmity. Things went further downhill for Brauchitsch as he endured a serious heart attack, and Hitler relieved him on 10 December. Brauchitsch spent the last three war years in the Tři Trubky hunting lodge in the Brdy mountains southwest of Prague. One of the few public comments he made after his retirement was a statement condemning the attempt on Hitler's life. After the war, Brauchitsch was arrested and charged with war crimes, but died in Hamburg in 1948 before he could be prosecuted. Brauchitsch was the uncle of Manfred von Brauchitsch, a 1930s Mercedes-Benz "Silver Arrow" Grand Prix driver, and Hans Bernd and Werner von Haeften, both members of the German resistance against Hitler. Brauchitsch was a strong admirer of Feldmarshal Helmuth von Moltke and used to linger in his former office that was made into a museum at a later date. 48
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General is presently the highest rank of the German army (Heer) and Luftwaffe (air force). As a four-star rank it is the equivalent to the rank of admiral in the German navy (Deutsche Marine). The German rank of general most likely saw its first use within the religious orders of the Holy Roman Empire of the German Nation, albeit in modified forms and usage from the current understanding of general. By the 16th century, with the rise of standing armies, the German states had begun to appoint generals from the nobility to lead armies in battle. A standard rank system was developed during the Thirty Years War, with the highest rank of General usually reserved for the ruling sovereign (e.g. the Kaiser or Elector) and the actual field commander holding the rank of Generalleutnant. Feldmarschall was a lower rank at that time, as was Generalwachtmeister. By the 17th and 18th centuries, the rank of general was present in all the militaries of the German states, and saw its greatest usage by the militaries of Bavaria and Prussia. It was these two militaries that created the concept of the “general staff”, which was often manned entirely by members of the nobility. To be a general implied membership in the noble class as a count or Graf, baron or Freiherr (this also accounts for most German generals of this era having the prefix “von” before their names). The German Generalleutnant two-star rank was usually a division commander. 51 Günther Adolf Ferdinand “Hans” von Kluge (30 October 1882 – 17 August 1944) was a German military leader. He was born in Posen into a Prussian military family. Kluge rose to the rank of Field Marshal in the Wehrmacht. He was also a recipient of the Knight's Cross of the Iron Cross with Oak Leaves and Swords (German: Ritterkreuz des Eisernen Kreuzes mit Eichenlaub und Schwertern). The Knight's Cross of the Iron Cross and its higher grade Oak Leaves and Swords was awarded to recognise extreme battlefield bravery or successful military leadership. When Stauffenberg attempted to assassinate Hitler on July 20, Kluge was Oberbefehlshaber West ("Supreme Field Commander West") with his headquarters in La Roche-Guyon. The commander of the occupation troops of France, General Karl-Heinrich von Stülpnagel, and his colleague Colonel Cäsar von Hofacker – a cousin of Stauffenberg – came to visit Kluge. Stülpnagel had just ordered the arrest of the SS units in Paris. Kluge had already learned that Hitler had survived the assassination attempt and refused to provide any support. "Ja – wenn das Schwein tot wäre!" ("Well – if the pig were dead!)" he said. On August 17, he was replaced by Walter Model and recalled to Berlin for a meeting with Hitler after the coup failed; thinking that Hitler would punish him as a conspirator, he committed suicide by taking cyanide near Metz that same day. He left Hitler a letter in which he advised Hitler to make peace and “put an end to a hopeless struggle when necessary...” Hitler reportedly handed the letter to Alfred Jodl and commented that “There are strong reasons to suspect that had not Kluge committed suicide he would have been arrested anyway.» Günther von Kluge’s nickname among the troops and his fellow officers was der kluge Hans (“Clever Hans”). Hans was not part of his given name, but a nickname acquired early in his career in admiration of his cleverness (klug is German for "clever"). It is a reference to "Clever Hans", a horse which became famous for its apparent ability to do arithmetic. 52 Leo Dietrich Franz Freiherr Geyr von Schweppenburg (2 March 1886 – 27 January 1974) was aGerman cavalry officer in World War I and a general during World War II. He was particularly noted for his expertise in armoured warfare and his command of Panzer Group West during the Invasion of Normandy. Geyr was born in Potsdam and joined the German Army in 1904. From 1933-37, he was a military attaché to the United Kingdom, Belgium and the Netherlands, residing in London. On 10 June 1944, Geyr was wounded when Royal Air Force aircraft attacked his newly established headquarters at La Caine in Normandy. From 1945-47, Geyr was in American captivity. During the early 1950s Geyr was instrumental in advising how to restructure the newly built German Army (Bundeswehr) of West Germany 50
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Dr.-Ing. Wolfram Freiherr von Richthofen (10 October 1895 in Gut Barzdorf, Silesia – 12 July 1945 in Bad Ischl) was a German Generalfeldmarschall (General Field Marshal) of the Luftwaffe (German Air Force) during the Second World War. Born in 1895 to Prussian nobles, Wolfram grew up in wealthy surroundings. After attending school he opted to join the German Army at the age of 18, rather than choose an academic career. He joined the army's Cavalry arm in 1913. On the outbreak of the First World War, he fought on the Western Front, winning the Iron CrossSecond Class. He was redeployed to the Eastern Front in 1915, where he stayed until 1917. The von Richthofen family produced several notable personalities that would become famous during the First War. His cousins, brothers Lothar and Manfred von Richthofen, both became flying aces and they encouraged him to join the Luftstreitkräfte (German Imperial Air Service). He did so, and joined Manfred's Geschwader (Wing), Jagdgeschwader 1 (Fighter Wing 1). Manfred, known as the Red Baron, was the highest claiming ace of the war with 80 victories. On his first mission with his cousin, Manfred was killed in April 1918. Wolfram continued flying, and went on to claim eight aerial victories before the armistice in November 1918. His other cousin, Lothar, survived the war, but was killed in a flying accident in 1922. Von Richthofen was suffering from headaches and exhaustion and was diagnosed as having a brain tumor. He was sent on medical leave to the Luftwaffe hospital for neurological injuries at Bad Ischl. On 27 October 1944, Von Richthofen was operated on by chief brain surgeon Professor Dr. Wilhelm Tönnis. Tönnis, a former professor at the University of Würzburg, was one of the most noted German specialists. Initially it was thought that the operation was successful, but the tumor had only been slowed. In November 1944 von Richthofen was officially relieved of his command in Italy and transferred to theFührerreserve. His condition declined steadily in early 1945. It is thought likely that Professor Tönnis attempted a second operation but the tumor had progressed beyond hope for recovery. Germany surrendered on 8 May 1945. The hospital was taken over by the American Third Army and von Richthofen became a prisoner of war. Wolfram von Richthofen passed away on 12 July 1945. 54 A colonel general (Generaloberst) was the second highest general officer rank - below fieldmarshal (Generalfeldmarschall) - in the Prussian army and later in the army of Imperial Germany (1871-1919), the Reichsheer (1921-1935), the Heer and the Luftwaffe (1935-1945). The rank in the German armed forces equivalent to a colonel in the British or American army is an "Oberst". So, the translation as colonel general follows the line of lieutenant general (Generalleutnant) and major general (Generalmajor). The rank was created originally for Emperor William I - then Prince of Prussia - because traditionally members of the royal family were not promoted to the rank of a field marshal. Since the rank of Generalfeldmarschall was also reserved for wartime promotions, the additional rank of a colonel general in the capacity of a field marshal - the Generaloberst im range eines Generalfeldmarschalls - was created for promotions during peace. Such generals were entitled to wear four pips on their shoulder boards, compared to the normal three. 55 Knight's Cross (German language Ritterkreuz) refers to a distinguishing grade or level of various orders that denotes bravery and leadership on the battlefield. Most frequently the term Knight's Cross is used in conjunction with the Knight's Cross of the Iron Cross of the Third Reich. However, numerous orders have a Knight's Cross grade. Examples include the Cross of Merit on the ribbon of the Bundesverdienstkreuz, the Chevalier (Knight) of the Légion d'honneur, a grade of the War Merit Cross, the Knight's Cross of the Brandenburg Bailiwick of the Knights' Order of the Hospital of St John in Jerusalem, the Knight's Cross of the Order of Franz Joseph, the Knight's Cross of the Military Order of Maria Theresa, 1st class (Knight) of the Order of the Sun, and the Knight's Cross of the House Order of Hohenzollern. 53
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Karl Rudolf Gerd von Rundstedt (12 December 1875 – 24 February 1953) was a German Field Marshal (Generalfeldmarschall) during World War II, holding some of the highest field commands. Born into a Prussian family with a long military tradition, Runstedt entered the Imperial German Army in 1892 and rose steadily through the ranks until World War I, in which he served mainly as a staff officer. In the inter-war years, he continued his military career, reaching the rank of Colonel General (Generaloberst), but retired in 1938. He was recalled at the beginning of World War II as Commander of the Army Group South in the Polish campaign. He commanded an Army Group during the German invasion of France, and was promoted to the rank of Field Marshal on 19 July 1940. In the Russian Campaign, he commanded Army Group South, responsible for the largest encirclement in history, the Battle of Kiev. He was dismissed by Hitler in December 1941, following the German retreat from Rostov, but was recalled in 1942 and appointed Commander in Chief in the West. He retired again in July 1944, but was again recalled as Commander in Chief in the West in September, holding this post until his final dismissal by Hitler in March 1945. After the war, Rundstedt was charged with war crimes, but did not face trial due to his age and poor health. He was released in 1949, and died in Hanover in 1953. He was released in July 1948. After his liberation, he took residence in Schloss Oppershausen near Celle. Suffering from heart problems, Gerd von Rundstedt died in Hanover on 24 February 1953, at the age of 77 57 He recounted it immediately afterwards to General Engel who gives corroboration. 58 Georg-Hans Reinhardt (1 March 1887 – 23 November 1963) was a German general of World War II. He commanded Third Panzer Army from 1941 to 1944, and Army Group Centre in 1944 and 1945. His highest rank was Generaloberst (Colonel General). He was also a recipient of the Knight's Cross of the Iron Cross with Oak Leaves and Swords (German: Ritterkreuz des Eisernen Kreuzes mit Eichenlaub und Schwertern). The Knight's Cross of the Iron Cross and its higher grade Oak Leaves and Swords was awarded to recognise extreme battlefield bravery or successful military leadership. Reinhardt was born in Bautzen, Saxony, and fought during World War I in an infantry regiment. In February 1934 Reinhardt was promoted to Colonel and soon after to Major General in the German army. He commanded the 4th Panzer Division during the Polish campaign of September 1939. 4th Panzer was initially repulsed in the two-day battle of Mokra and Ostrowy on 1–2 September, but broke through Polish defenses near Częstochowa. 4th Panzer then advanced to the outskirts of Warsaw by September 8, the first German force to reach the city. 4th Panzer's initial unsupported attack on the city failed, and the division was redeployed to assist in the Battle of the Bzura to the west. After the Polish campaign, Reinhardt 56
was awarded the Knight's Cross of the Iron Cross and promoted to Lieutenant General In the 1940 Battle of France, Reinhardt commanded the XLI Panzer Corps, which was one of the three Panzerkorps that broke through the Ardennes and drove west to the sea in May. For this success, he was promoted to General der Panzertruppe on 1 June 1940. In June 1945, Reinhardt was arrested by the United States Army as a war criminal. In 1947, he and thirteen other top German commanders were tried before a U.S. military court in Nuremberg. Reinhardt was found guilty of murder and ill-treatment of prisoners of war, and of murder, deportation, and hostage-taking of civilians in occupied countries. He was sentenced to 15 years imprisonment, but was released in 1952.
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Helmuth Johann Ludwig von Moltke ; 23 May 1848, Biendorf – 18 June 1916), also known as Moltke the Younger, was a nephew of Field Marshal Count Moltke and served as the Chief of the German General Staff from 1906 to 1914. The two are often differentiated as Moltke the Elder and Moltke the Younger. Moltke the Younger's role in the development of German war plans and the instigation of the First World War is extremely controversial. Helmuth von Moltke was born in Mecklenburg-Schwerin and named after his uncle, Helmuth Karl Bernhard von Moltke, future Field Marshal and hero of the Wars of Unification. During the Franco-Prussian War Moltke served with the 7th Grenadier Regiment, and was cited for bravery. He attended the War Academy between 1875 and 1878 and joined the General Staff in 1880. In 1882 he became personal adjutant to his uncle, then Chief of the General Staff. In 1891, on the death of his uncle, Moltke became aide-de-camp to Wilhelm II, thus becoming part of the Emperor's inner circle. In the late 1890s he commanded first a brigade and then a division, finally being promoted to Lieutenant General in 1902. In 1904 Moltke was made Quartermaster-General; in effect, Deputy Chief of the General Staff. In 1906, he became chief on Schlieffen's retirement. His appointment was controversial then and remains so today. The other likely candidates for the position were Hans Hartwig von Beseler, Karl von Bülow, and Colmar Freiherr von der Goltz. Critics charge that Moltke gained the position on the strength of his name and his friendship with the Kaiser. Certainly Moltke was far closer to the Kaiser than the other candidates. Historians argue, however, that Beseler was too close to Schlieffen to have succeeded him, while Bülow and Goltz were too independent for Wilhelm to have accepted them. Indeed, Moltke's friendship with the Kaiser permitted him latitude that others could not have enjoyed. Goltz, at least, saw nothing wrong with Moltke's performance as Chief. 60 The Oberkommando des Heeres (OKH) was Nazi Germany's High Command of the Army from 1936 to 1945. The Oberkommando der Wehrmacht (Supreme High Command of the Armed Forces or OKW) commanded OKH only in theory. However, after 1941, the OKW de facto directly commanded operations on the Western front while the OKH commanded the Eastern front. For commanding the navy and the air force, Third Reich had also the Oberkommando der Marine (OKM) and the Oberkommando der Luftwaffe (OKL) respectively. These were theoretically subordinate to the OKW, but in actuality acted quite independently. The OKH did not plan operations, following in German tradition. This task was left to the General Staff, so actually the most important man in the Army (and the Navy, but less so in the Luftwaffe, which was commanded by Hermann Göring) was the Chief of the General Staff (Chef des Generalstabs des Heeres). Das Heer (the Army) always has been the leading factor in planning campaigns. Thus there was no such thing as combined planning of the different services. The position of the Oberkommando der Wehrmacht (OKW)], which was by definition superior to the OKH, was not intended for that, nor did it have the resources to do so. Later in the war, OKH became responsible for fewer and fewer tasks, with Adolf Hitler, assisted by OKW, taking an increasing role in the planning and running of operations. For example, the invasion of Norway was entirely planned outside OKH. During the April 1945 allied campaign towards Berlin, disputes between OKH and OKW over strategic priorities were commonplace. Since the Eastern Front was the responsibility of OKH, Field Marshal Wilhelm Keitel displayed callous disregard for German failures against the Soviets. General Heinz Guderian, then chief of OKH, resented Keitel for his lack of support in getting Hitler to send troops to counter Soviet advances east of the Oder river. 59
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Paul Ludwig Ewald von Kleist (8 August 1881 – 13 November 1954) was a leading German field marshal during World War II. He was also a recipient of the Knight's Cross of the Iron Cross with Oak Leaves and Swords (German: Ritterkreuz des Eisernen Kreuzes mit Eichenlaub und Schwertern). The Knight's Cross of the Iron Cross and its higher grade Oak Leaves and Swords was awarded to recognise extreme battlefield bravery or successful military leadership. Born in Braunfels an der Lahn into an aristocratic family, Kleist was educated in a German military school and graduated in 1900. He served as a lieutenant of hussars and a regimental commander in World War I. After the war he served as a commander of a cavalry division from 1932-35. Kleist was semi-retired when, in August 1939, he was recalled to active duty at the age of fifty-eight. In the invasion of Poland, Kleist commanded the XXII Panzer Corps. In the Battle of France he commanded Panzergruppe von Kleist, consisting of XLI Panzer Corps and XIX Panzer Corps (under Heinz Guderian), the two southernmost armoured corps in the drive to the English Channel. During this time he attempted to relieve Guderian of his command after he disobeyed orders to halt their advance toward the Channel; the Army Group A commander, Gerd von Rundstedt, refused to confirm the order, and the Franco-British armies were trapped. Kleist was captured by United States forces in 1945. He was sent to communist Yugoslavia to face war crimes charges in 1946. In 1948 he was extradited to the Soviet Union where he was given a 10 year sentence in 1952 for war crimes. He died in captivity in Vladimir Prison in 1954, the highest ranked German officer to die in Soviet captivity. 62 Siegmund Wilhelm Walther von List (14 May 1880 – 17 August 1971), was a German field marshal during World War II, and at the start of the war was based in Slovakia in command of the 14th Army. List was born in Oberkirchberg (now a part of Illerkirchberg) near Ulm, Württemberg, Germany in 1880 and entered the Bavarian Army in 1898 as a cadet. In 1900, he was promoted to Leutnant (Lieutenant) and in 1913 he joined the general staff as a Hauptmann (Captain). He served as a staff officer in World War I. After the war, List stayed in the Reichswehr and most of his assignments were as an administrator. In 1927, he was promoted to Oberst, in 1930 he was promoted to Generalmajor (Equivalent to a US Brigadier General) and in 1932 he was promoted to Generalleutnant (Major General). In 1938, after the Anschluss of Austria, List was made responsible for integrating the Bundesheer into the Wehrmacht. In 1939, List commanded the German 14th Army in the invasion of Poland. From 1939-1941, he commanded the German 12th Army in France and Greece. In 1941, he was Commander-in-Chief South-East. In July 1942, he was Commander-in-Chief of Army Group A on the Eastern Front in the Soviet Union. List was captured by the Allies after the war. In 1947, List and 11 former subordinates were brought before a U.S. military court, charged with war crimes and crimes against humanity — primarily the reprisal killing of hostages in retaliation for partisan activity. List was convicted in this Hostages Trial. He was sentenced to life imprisonment in February 1948. List was released from prison in December 1952, officially because of ill health. However, he lived for another 19 years, dying on August 17, 1971. 61
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Hermann "Papa" Hoth (12 April 1885 – 25 January 1971) was an officer in the German military from 1903 to 1945. He attained the rank of Generaloberst during World War II. He fought in France, but is most noted for his later exploits as a panzer commander on the Eastern Front. Hoth commanded the 3rd Panzer Group during Operation Barbarossa in 1941, and the 4th Panzer Army later during theWehrmacht's 1942 summer offensive. Following the encirclement of the 6th Army in Stalingrad in November 1942, Hoth commanded the panzer army during Operation Wintergewitter. After Stalingrad, Hoth was involved in the Kursk counter offensive in the summer of 1943 and the Battle of Kiev. The Fourth Panzer Army under his command at Kursk was the largest tank formation ever assembled. Hoth was dismissed from command by Adolf Hitler in 1943, only to be reinstated for a short time during the last weeks of the war. After the war, he served six years in prison for war crimes, and became a writer on military history. In July 1943, Hoth commanded the Fourth Panzer Army in the Battle of Kursk. His divisions, now reinforced by the II SS Panzer Corps, made a significant penetration of the Soviet lines, before being brought to a halt at Prokhorovka. Manstein urged that the attack continue, but the slow progress of the GermanNinth Army to the north of Kursk, heavy losses and the Allied invasion of Sicily meant that the operation was called off. In the aftermath of Kursk, the Red Army mounted a series of successful offensives that crossed the Dnieper, retook Kiev and pushed the Germans out of eastern Ukraine. Despite his distinguished record, Hoth, now Generaloberst, was blamed by Hitler for part of the losses, and relieved of command. He was reassigned to the reserves in November. In April 1945, he was recalled to active duty and assigned to command the defense of the Harz Mountains, a position he held until the end of the war. Following the end of the war, Hoth was put on trial at the Subsequent Nuremberg Trials, found guilty of war crimes in the High Command Trial, and on 27 October 1948 sentenced to 15 years in prison. He was released in 1954 and spent his retirement writing. He died at Goslar, where he is buried. 64 The command Group in operation: orders on the march 65 Panzerfunkwagen (SdKfz 263) 8-Rad 90th Nachrichten (Signal Company) 10° Panzer Division 66 10th Panzer Division The last of the pre-war armoured divisions to be formed, the 10th Panzer Division was also to have the shortest life of all of them. THE 10th Panzer Division was created primarily as an occupation force in Czechoslovakia after the final takeover of that country early in 1939. Components of the new Division were provided by other formations, including the 4th Panzer Brigade. Fall Weiss: the invasion of Poland Newly formed, the 10th Panzer Division was held in reserve for Army Group North during the early days of the Invasion of Poland. When heinz GUDERIAN needed reinforcement for his lightning assault through northern Poland, 10th Panzer was assigned to his XIX Army Corps. The division's first major action was at Wizna, where the Poles had fortified a position to cover the crossings of the Narev and the Biebrza Rivers, and to protect the roads from Bialystock and to Brest-Litovsk. The fortifications were quickly smashed, and Guderian's Panzers advanced towards Wysokie Mazowieckie, encircling and destroying the Polish Narew Corps. After removing these obstacles, Guderian's panzers advanced to Brest Litovsk. Lead units made contact with XXII Panzerkorps, advancing from the south on 18 September, one day after the Red Army moved in from the east. The two conquerors then ruthlessly divided Poland. Commanders Genera! der Panzertruppen F, Schaal (1 Sept 1939-2 Aug 1941) General der Panzertruppen W. Fischer 12 Aae 1S41 -1 Fsb 1943) Generalleutnant F .von Broich (1 Feb 1943 -12 May 1943) 63
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The Maginot Line (French: Ligne Maginot), named after the French Minister of War AndrĂŠ Maginot, was a line of concrete fortifications, tank obstacles, artillery casemates, machine gun posts, and other defenses, which France constructed along its borders with Germany and Italy, in light of its experience in World War I, and in the run-up to World War II. Generally the term describes only the defenses facing Germany, while the term Alpine Line is used for the FrancoItalian defenses. The French established the fortification to provide time for their army to mobilise in the event of attack, allowing French forces to move into Belgium for a decisive confrontation with German forces. The success of static, defensive combat in World War I was a key influence on French thinking. Military experts extolled the Maginot Line as a work of genius, believing it would prevent any further invasions from the east (notably, from Germany). It was also a product of a historical inferiority in population and birthrate, exacerbated by the losses in World 67
War I, which had been developing for three generations. The fortification system successfully dissuaded a direct attack. It was strategically ineffective, as the Germans indeed invaded Belgium, defeated the French army, flanked the Maginot Line, through the Ardennes forest and via the Low countries, completely sweeping by the line and conquering France in days. As such, reference to the Maginot Line is used to recall a strategy or object that people hope will prove effective but instead fails miserably. It is also the best known symbol of the adage that "generals always fight the last war, especially if they have won it"
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7th Panzer Division Like the 6th Panzer Division, 7th Panzer Division was formed in October 1939 by the conversion of one of the Wehrmachfs Leichte Divisions to full Panzer Division status. reserve platoon, one motorized maintenance platoon, and one light supply column. At the outbreak of war, the Panzer Abteilung had 62 tanks available, mostly Pz.Kpfw Is and Us, with a few Pz.Kpfw Ills and IVs becoming operational. The support units included more supply, maintenance and fuel columns, a divisional administration unit, a field bakery, a butcher detachment, various medical and veterinary units, a military police troop and a field post office. The 2ND leichte division was officially formed on 10 November 1938 at Gera, to the south of Leipzig. Despite the fact that Germany had very little cavalry strength, the cavalry arm was the most prestigious in the German armed forces, and the light divisions had been formed primarily as a sop to the few but highly influential cavalry officers who dominated the high command. In 1939, the 2nd Leichte Division was under the command of General de Kavallerie Stumme. At full strength, the division comprised 457 officers and warrant officers leading 11,000 NCOs and men. Panzer strength The Division was organized and equipped into a tank-light, infantry-heavy unit. The 6th and 7th Kavallerie Schutzen Regiments each consisted of two battalions of motorized infantry. Other divisional units included a reconnaissance regiment, an artillery regiment, an antitank battalion, a pioneer or combat engineer battalion, a signals battalion and other service and support units. Divisional armoured strength was provided by a single Panzer unit, the 33rd Panzer Battalion. This included one motorized signals platoon, one staff platoon, three light panzer companies, one motorized Commanders General der Kavallerie G. Stumme (18 Oct 1939-5 Feb 19401 Generalmajor E. Rommel (SFebl940-14Febl941! General der Panzertruppen H. Freiherr von Funck (14 FeUS41 -17 Me 19431 Oberst W. Glasemer tI7Atlgl943-20Aagl943! General der Panzertruppen H. von Manteuffel (20 Aug 1943 -1 Jan 1944) Generalmajor A. Schulz (Jan 1944 -28 Jan 19441 . Ooerst W. Glasemer (28 Ian 1944-30 Ian 1944! General der Panzertruppen Or. K. Mauss (30 Jan 1944-2 May 1944) Generalmajor G. Schmidhuber (2 May 1944 - 9 Sept 1944) General der Panzertruppen Dr. K. Mauss (9 Sept 1944- 31 Oct 1944) Generalmajor H. Mader (31 Oct 1944 -30 tiny 1944) General der Panzertruppen Or. K. Mauss (30 Nov 1944-5 Jan 19451 Generalmajor M. Lemke (5 Jan 1945-23 Jan 1945) General der Panzertruppen Dr. K. Mauss (23 Jan 1945 -22 Mar1945) Oberst H. Christern (23 Mar 1945 -8 May 1945) 68
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Dr. Paul Joseph Goebbels (29 October 1897 – 1 May 1945) was a German politician and Reich Minister of Propaganda in Nazi Germany from 1933 to 1945. As one of Adolf Hitler's closest associates and most devout followers, he was known for his zealous oratory and anti-Semitism. Goebbels earned a Ph.D. from Heidelberg University in 1921, writing his doctoral thesis on 19th century romantic drama; he then went on to work as a journalist and later a bank clerk and caller on the stock exchange. He also wrote novels and plays, but they were rejected by publishers. Goebbels came into contact with the National Socialist German Worker's Party (NSDAP) or Nazi Party in 1923 during the French occupation of the Ruhr and became a member in 1924. He was appointed Gauleiter (regional party leader) of Berlin. In this position, he put his propaganda skills to full use, combating the local socialist and communist parties with the help of Nazi papers and the paramilitary Sturmabteilung (Brownshirts). By 1928, he had risen in the party ranks to become one of its most prominent members. Goebbels rose to power in 1933 along with Hitler and the Nazi Party and he was appointed Propaganda Minister. One of his first acts was the burning of books. He exerted totalitarian control over the media, arts and information in Germany. From the beginning of his tenure, Goebbels organized attacks on German Jews, commencing with the one-day boycott of Jewish businessmen, doctors, and lawyers on April 1, 1933. His attacks on the Jewish population culminated in the Kristallnacht assault of 1938, an open and unrestrained pogrom unleashed by the Nazis all across Germany, in which scores of synagogues were burned and hundreds of Jews were assaulted and murdered. Further, he produced a series of anti-Semitic films (most notably Jud Süß). Goebbels used modern propaganda techniques to ideologically prepare the German people for aggressive warfare. At 8 pm on the evening of 1 May, Goebbels arranged for an SS dentist, Helmut Kunz, to kill his six children by injecting them with morphine and then, when they were unconscious, crushing an ampule of cyanide in each of their mouths. According to Kunz's testimony, he gave the children morphine injections but it was Magda Goebbels and Stumpfegger, Hitler's personal doctor, who then administered the cyanide. Shortly afterward, Goebbels and his wife went up to the garden of the Chancellery, where they killed themselves. The details of their suicides are uncertain. After the war, Rear-Admiral Michael Musmanno, a U.S. naval officer and judge, published an account apparently based on eye-witness testimony: "At about 8:15 pm, Goebbels arose from the table, put on his hat, coat and gloves and, taking his wife's arm, went upstairs to the garden." They were followed by Goebbels's adjutant, SS-Hauptsturmführer Günther Schwägermann. "While Schwägermann was preparing the petrol, he heard a shot. Goebbels had shot himself and his wife took poison. Schwägermann ordered one of the soldiers to shoot Goebbels again because he was unable to do it himself.». One SS officer later said they each took cyanide and were shot by an SS trooper. According to another account, Goebbels shot his wife and then himself. This version is portrayed in the movie Downfall. 70 'Suggestions to the contrary from some sources are not substantiated by Guderian's private papers, particularly letters to his wife. 69
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Einsatzgruppen (German: "task forces"; singular Einsatzgruppe; official full name Einsatzgruppen der Sicherheitspolizei und des SD) were SS paramilitary death squads that were responsible for mass killings, typically by shooting, of Jews in particular, but also significant numbers of other population groups and political categories. The Einsatzgruppen operated throughout the territory occupied by the German armed forces following the German invasions of Poland, in September, 1939, and later, of the Soviet Union on June 22, 1941. The Einsatzgruppen carried out operations ranging from the murder of a few people to operations which lasted over two or more days, such as the massacres at Babi Yar (33,771 killed in two days) and Rumbula (25,000 killed in two days). The Einsatzgruppen were responsible for the murders of over 1,000,000 people, and they were the first Nazi organizations to commence mass killing of Jews as an organized policy. The Einsatzgruppen were formed under the direction of SS-Obergruppenführer Reinhard Heydrich (deputy to Heinrich Himmler) and operated by the Schutzstaffel (SS) before and during World War II. From September 1939 forward the SS-Reichssicherheitshauptamt (RSHA - Reich Main Security Office) had overall command of the Einsatzgruppen. Their principal task during the war (according to SS General Erich von dem Bach at the Nuremberg Trials) "... was the annihilation of the Jews, Gypsies, and Soviet political commissars". The Einsatzgruppen had a leading role in the implementation of the final solution of the Jewish question (Die Endlösung der Judenfrage) in the conquered territories. 72 Walther Kurt Josef Nehring (15 August 1892 – 20 April 1983), was a German general of World War II, known for his involvement with the Afrika Korps. He was also a recipient of the Knight's Cross of the Iron Cross with Oak Leaves and Swords. The Knight's Cross of the Iron Cross and its higher grade Oak Leaves and Swords was awarded to recognise extreme battlefield bravery or successful military leadership. Walther Nehring was born on 15 August 1892 in Stretzin district of West Prussia. Nehring was the descendant of a Dutch family who had fled the Netherlands to escape religious persecution in the seventeenth century. His father, Emil Nehring, was a schoolteacher and officer of the Military Reserve. While Nehring was still a child the family moved to Danzig. His father's first wife Minna died early. Walther Nehring's oldest brother Edwin Nehring resulted from this marriage. Emil Nehring married Martha Weiß in 1884, the daughter of Marie Alexandrine von Zitzewitz, who belonged to the old Pomeranian nobility. Walther Nehring and his seven year older sister Else were born from this marriage After North Africa, Nehring was posted to the Eastern Front where he commanded first the XXIV Panzer Corps, and then from July to August 1944 the Fourth Panzer Army. Nehring then returned to the XXIV in August 1944 and led the Corps until in March 1945 when he was made commander of the 1st Panzer Army. During 1944 he was also the commanding officer of the XXXXVIII Panzer Corps. Following the end of the war, General Nehring wrote a comprehensive history of the German panzer forces from 1916 to 1945, Die Geschichte der deutschen Panzerwaffe 1916 bis 1945. 71
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Hermann "Papa" Hoth (12 April 1885 – 25 January 1971) was an officer in the German military from 1903 to 1945. He attained the rank of Generaloberst during World War II. He fought in France, but is most noted for his later exploits as a panzer commander on the Eastern Front. Hoth commanded the 3rd Panzer Group during Operation Barbarossa in 1941, and the 4th Panzer Army later during the Wehrmacht's 1942 summer offensive. Following the encirclement of the 6th Army in Stalingrad in November 1942, Hoth commanded the panzer army during Operation Wintergewitter. After Stalingrad, Hoth was involved in the Kursk counter offensive in the summer of 1943 and the Battle of Kiev. The Fourth Panzer Army under his command at Kursk was the largest tank formation ever assembled. Hoth was dismissed from command by Adolf Hitler in 1943, only to be reinstated for a short time during the last weeks of the war. After the war, he served six years in prison for war crimes, and became a writer on military history. Following the end of the war, Hoth was put on trial at the Subsequent Nuremberg Trials, found guilty of war crimes in the High Command Trial, and on 27 October 1948 sentenced to 15 years in prison. Hoth was born in Neuruppin, the son of an army medical officer. He joined the army in 1903 and at the start of World War I was promoted to Captain and he won both classes of Iron Cross. He remained in the Reichswehr (the armed forces of the Weimar Republic) in the interwar period. Following the reorganization of the German military into the Wehrmacht in 1935, he was promoted to Major-General and appointed to command the 18th Infantry Division. He was released in 1954 and spent his retirement writing. He died at Goslar, where he is buried. 74 Rudolf Schmundt (13 August 1896 – 1 October 1944) was an officer in the German Army (Wehrmacht Heer) during World War II. He was injured during the 20 July 1944 assassination attempt on Adolf Hitler and died a few months later from his wounds. Schmundt was born in Metz and served as a Lieutenant during the World War I. In World War II he attained the rank of General of the Infantry on 1 September 1944, and was the Chief of the Personnel Department of the German Army. Schmundt was one of the casualties of the failed July 20 plot, planned to kill the German dictator Adolf Hitler. One of the conspirators, Colonel Claus von Stauffenberg, placed a bomb in a briefcase beside Hitler. Colonel Heinz Brandt moved it behind a heavy table leg and unwittingly saved Hitler's life, but as a consequence lost his own. Severely injured in the assassination attempt, Schmundt initially made a promising recovery, but ultimately died of complications resulting from his injuries on 1 October 1944. After Schmundt's death, all current Generals and Field Marshals were summoned by Hitler to attend a funeral service at the Tannenberg Memorial, in east Prussia. As reported by Hauptmann Alexander Stahlberg (aide to Field Marshal Von Manstein) in his book "Bounden Duty", the group were entrained back to Berlin and General Schmundt was buried, on Hitler's orders, in the hero's cemetery - the Invaliden. Hitler did not attend either ceremonies. Schmundt was posthumously awarded the German Order on 7 October 1944. He was replaced as the Chief of the Personnel Department by General Wilhelm Burgdorf, the Deputy Chief. 73
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Herrmann Karl Robert "Henning" von Tresckow (January 10, 1901 – July 21, 1944) was a Generalmajor in the German Wehrmacht who organized German resistance against Adolf Hitler. He attempted to assassinate Hitler in March 1943 and drafted the Valkyrie plan for a coup against the German government. He was described by the Gestapo as the "prime mover" and the "evil spirit" behind the July 20 plot to assassinate Hitler. He committed suicide on the Eastern Front upon the plot's failure. When the assassination attempt on Hitler and the following coup in Berlin (July 20 Plot) had failed, Tresckow decided to commit suicide at the front in Królowy Most near Białystok on July 21. His parting words to Schlabrendorff were: "The whole world will vilify us now, but I am still totally convinced that we did the right thing. Hitler is the archenemy not only of Germany but of the world. When, in few hours' time, I go before God to account for what I have done and left undone, I know I will be able to justify what I did in the struggle against Hitler. God promised Abraham that He would not destroy Sodom if just ten righteous men could be found in the city, and so I hope that for our sake God will not destroy Germany. No-one among us can complain about his death, for whoever joined our ranks put on the shirt of Nessus. A man's moral worth is established only at the point where he is ready to give up his life in defense of his convictions.» To protect other conspirators, he staged an appearance of partisan attack by firing his pistols and then dispatched himself by holding a hand grenade below his chin. He was buried in the family home in Wartenberg. When the Nazis learned about his connections in late August, his body was exhumed and taken to the crematorium of Sachsenhausen concentration camp. His wife was arrested on August 15 and her children were taken away under Nazi policy of Sippenhaft, meaning shared family guilt, but early in October she was released again and survived the war. 76 Guderian gives no hint of this approach in Panzer Leader though in his correspondence there is ample evidence of his realisation that new horizons were appearing. Since he was repeatedly the target, after the war, of accusations of being a self-seeker, his reticence about this affair is at least understandable even if unnecessary. So far as I am aware, however, this highly significant factor has not been published before in books in English. 77 The entry in Barsewisch's diary for 29th August is revealing in its reflection of the 'nothing we can do about the command situation now' view expressed by Guderian in his letter of 18th August mentioned above. While the entry for 15/16 September says 'Alone with Guderian on one of his serious themes - Clausewitz, Moltke and Schlieffen, appointments at OKH and in the General Staff - so that everything about us seemed to stand still for an hour'. 78 Friedrich Wilhelm Ernst Paulus (23 September 1890 – 1 February 1957) was an officer in the German military from 1910 to 1945. He attained the rank of Generalfeldmarschall (field marshal) during World War II, and is best known for having commanded the Sixth Army's assault on Stalingrad during Operation Blue in 1942. The battle ended in disaster for Nazi Germany when approximately 270,000 soldiers of the Wehrmacht, Axis allies and Hilfswillige were encircled and defeated in a massive Soviet counterattack in November 1942, with casualties reaching as high as 740,000. Paulus surrendered to Soviet forces in Stalingrad on 31 January 1943, a day after he was promoted to the rank of Generalfeldmarschall by Adolf Hitler. Hitler expected Paulus to commit suicide, citing the fact that there was no record of a German field marshal ever being captured alive. While in Soviet captivity during the war Paulus became a vocal critic of the Nazi regime and joined the Russian-sponsored National Committee for a Free Germany. He was not released until 1953. During the Nuremberg Trials, Paulus was asked about the Stalingrad prisoners by a journalist. Paulus told the journalist to tell the wives and mothers that their husbands and sons were well. Of the 91,000 German prisoners taken at Stalingrad, half had died on the march to Siberian prison camps, nearly as many died in captivity; only about 6,000 returned home. From 1953 to 1956, he lived in Dresden, East Germany, where he worked as the civilian chief of the East German Military History Research Institute and not, as often wrongly described, as an inspector of police. In late 1956, he developed motor neurone disease and was eventually left paralyzed. He died in Dresden on 1 February 1957, exactly 14 years after he surrendered at Stalingrad. His body was brought for burial in Baden next to that of his wife, who had died in 1949 having not seen her husband since his departure for the Eastern front in the summer of 1942 75
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Albert Kesselring (30 November 1885 – 16 July 1960) was a German Luftwaffe Generalfeldmarschall during World War II. In a military career that spanned both World Wars, Kesselring became one of Nazi Germany's most skilful commanders, being one of 27 soldiers awarded the Knight's Cross of the Iron Cross with Oak Leaves, Swords and Diamonds. Nicknamed "Smiling Albert" by the Allies and "Uncle Albert" by his troops, he was one of the most popular generals of World War II with the rank and file. Kesselring joined the Bavarian Army as an officer cadet in 1904, and served in the artillery branch. He completed training as a balloon observer in 1912. During World War I, he served on both the Western and Eastern fronts and was posted to the General Staff, despite not having attended the War Academy. Kesselring remained in the Army after the war but was discharged in 1933 to become head of the Department of Administration at the Reich Commissariat for Aviation, where he was involved in the re-establishment of the aviation industry and the laying of the foundations for the Luftwaffe, serving as its Chief of Staff from 1936 to 1938. During World War II he commanded air forces in the invasions of Poland and France, the Battle of Britain, and Operation Barbarossa. As Commander-in-Chief South, he was overall German commander in the Mediterranean theatre, which included the operations in North Africa. Kesselring conducted an uncompromising defensive campaign against the Allied forces in Italy until he was injured in an accident in October 1944. In the final campaign of the war, he commanded German forces on the Western Front. He won the respect of his Allied opponents for his military accomplishments, but his record was marred by massacres committed by troops under his command in Italy. Kesselring died at Bad Nauheim, West Germany, on 16 July 1960 at the age of 74. He was given a quasi-military Stahlhelm funeral and buried in Bergfriedhof Cemetery in Bad Wiessee. Members of Stahlhelm acted as his pall bearers and fired a rifle volley over his grave. His former chief of staff, Siegfried Westphal, spoke for the veterans of North Africa and Italy, describing Kesselring as "a man of admirable strength of character whose care was for soldiers of all ranks". General Josef Kammhuber spoke on behalf of the Luftwaffe and Bundeswehr, expressing the hope that Kesselring would be remembered for his earlier accomplishments rather than for his later activities. Also present were the former SS Oberstgruppenführer Sepp Dietrich, the ex-Chancellor Franz von Papen, Generalfeldmarschall Ferdinand Schörner, Grossadmiral and former Reichspräsident Karl Dönitz, Otto Remer, SS Standartenführer Joachim Peiper, and former Ambassador Rudolf Rahn. 80 It is, perhaps, noteworthy if only coincidental that a high proportion of Guderian's supporters were sent to North Africa about this time. Bayerlein had gone, Stauffenberg went in October, Nehring and Liebenstein in 1942. 79
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Hermann Wilhelm Göring, (or Goering; German pronunciation) 12 January 1893 – 15 October 1946) was a German politician, military leader, and leading member of the Nazi Party (NSDAP). A veteran of World War I as an ace fighter pilot, he was a recipient of the coveted Pour le Mérite, also known as "the Blue Max". He was the last commander of Jagdgeschwader 1, the fighter wing once led by Manfred von Richthofen, "the Red Baron". A member of the NSDAP from its early days, Göring was wounded in 1923 during the failed coup known as the Beer Hall Putsch. He suffered from a lifelong addiction to morphine after being treated with the drug for his injuries. He founded the Gestapo in 1933. Göring was appointed commander-in-chief of the Luftwaffe (air force) in 1935, a position he held until the final days of World War II. By 1940 he was at the peak of his power and influence; as minister in charge of the Four Year Plan, he was responsible for much of the functioning of the German economy in the build-up to World War II. Adolf Hitler promoted him to the rank of Reichsmarschall, a rank senior to all other Wehrmacht commanders, and in 1941 Hitler designated him as his successor and deputy in all his offices. As the Soviets approached Berlin, Hitler's efforts to organise the defence of the city became ever more meaningless and futile. His last birthday, celebrated at the Führerbunker in Berlin on 20 April 1945, was the occasion for leave-taking for many top Nazis, Göring included. By this time Carinhall had been evacuated, the building destroyed, and its art treasures moved to Berchtesgaden and elsewhere. Göring arrived at his estate at Obersalzberg on 22 April, the same day that Hitler, in a lengthy diatribe against his generals, first publicly admitted that the war was lost and that he intended to commit suicide. Göring was deeply concerned that his rival, Martin Bormann, would seize power upon Hitler's death and would have him killed as a traitor. He reviewed the decree of 29 June 1941 wherein he was named as Hitler's successor, and decided to send a message to Berlin asking for permission to assume command of the Reich. The telegram was intercepted by Bormann, who convinced Hitler that Göring was a traitor. Hitler rescinded the decree, stripped Göring of his offices and titles, and placed him under house arrest at Obersalzberg. Bormann made an announcement over the radio that Göring had resigned for health reasons. By 26 April the complex at Obersalzberg was under attack by the Allies, so Göring was moved to his castle at Mauterndorf. In his last will and testament, Hitler stripped Göring of his party membership and appointed Karl Dönitz as president of the Reich and leader of the armed forces. Hitler and his long-time mistress, Eva Braun, committed suicide on 30 April 1945. Göring was released from his imprisonment on 5 May by a passing Luftwaffe unit, and he made his way to the American lines in hopes of surrendering to them rather than the Russians. He was taken into custody near Radstadt on 6 May 81
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Kurt Zeitzler (June 9, 1895 – September 25, 1963) was an officer in the German Reichswehr and its successor the Wehrmacht, most prominent for being the Chief of the Army General Staff from 1942 to 1944. Zeitzler, the son of a pastor, was born in GoĂ&#x;mar (now a part of Heideblick), Province of Brandenburg. Zeitzler joined the German Army on March 23, 1914, and fought in World War I. He was promoted to officer because of outstanding bravery and was placed in command of an infantry battalion. Between 1919 and 1937 he served as a staff officer in the Reichswehr, and in 1937 he began working as a staff officer for the Oberkommando des Heeres (OKH). In September 1939 he became Chief of Staff for the XXII. Corps of the 14. Army, serving under General Siegmund List in the German invasion of Poland. In March 1940 he became the Chief of Staff for Panzergruppe A, serving under General von Kleist in the Invasion of France. Zeitzler also served under Von Kleist in the German invasions of Yugoslavia, Greece and the Soviet Union in 1941. On May 18, 1941 he was awarded the Knight's Cross of the Iron Cross. During his tenure as Chief of Staff to Army group D in France in 1942 he was part of the German force that successfully resisted the Dieppe raid on August 19, 1942. After a short tour as Chief of Staff of Army Group D under General von Rundstedt he was promoted to General of the Infantry and simultaneously appointed Chief of Staff of the Army General Staff on September 24, 1942 as a replacement for Franz Halder. Hitler had been impressed by his optimistic and vigorous reports. Zeitzler was chosen though he was far from the top of the General Staff's list. It is probable that Hitler believed Zeitzler would be a more pliable and optimistic OKH chief than his immediate predecessor, Franz Halder. He was also thought to be a master of logistics, with solid organizational skills. Zeitzler was never considered a brilliant commander, though his performance at the head of the General Staff was very respectable. His drive and initiative was eventually paralyzed by Hitler's constant and increasingly unreasonable demands. After the annihilation of the Sixth army in Stalingrad Zeitzler's relations with Hitler became more and more strained. At the end of his tether after a series of violent rows with Hitler he abruptly left the Berghof on July 1, 1944. He had suffered a nervous breakdown. Hitler never spoke to him again and even had him dismissed from the Army in January 1945, refusing him the right to wear a uniform. After the end of World War II, Zeitzler was a British POW until the end of February 1947. He died in 1963 in Hohenaschau in Upper Bavaria. 82
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Albert Speer (born Berthold Konrad Hermann Albert Speer; March 19, 1905 – September 1, 1981) was a German architect who was, for a part of World War II, Minister of Armaments and War Production for the Third Reich. Speer was Adolf Hitler's chief architect before assuming ministerial office. As "the Nazi who said sorry", he accepted responsibility at the Nuremberg trials and in his memoirs for crimes of the Nazi regime. His level of involvement in the persecution of the Jews and his level of knowledge of the Holocaust remain matters of dispute. Speer joined the Nazi Party in 1931, launching him on a political and governmental career which lasted fourteen years. His architectural skills made him increasingly prominent within the Party and he became a member of Hitler's inner circle. Hitler commanded him to design and construct a number of structures, including the Reich Chancellery and the Zeppelinfeld stadium in Nuremberg where Party rallies were held. Speer also made plans to reconstruct Berlin on a grand scale, with huge buildings, wide boulevards, and a reorganized transportation system. After Hitler's death, Speer offered his services to the so-called Flensburg Government, headed by Hitler's successor, Karl Dönitz, and took a significant role in that short-lived regime. On May 15, the Americans arrived and asked Speer if he would be willing to provide information on the effects of the air war. Speer agreed, and over the next several days, provided information on a broad range of subjects. On May 23, two weeks after the surrender of German troops, the Allies arrested the members of the Flensburg Government and brought Nazi Germany to a formal end. Speer was taken to several internment centers for Nazi officials and interrogated. In September 1945, he was told that he would be tried for war crimes, and several days later, he was taken to Nuremberg and incarcerated there. Speer was indicted on all four possible counts: first, participating in a common plan or conspiracy for the accomplishment of crime against peace, second, planning, initiating and waging wars of aggression and other crimes against peace, third, war crimes, and lastly, crimes against humanity. The Nuremberg defendants listen to the proceedings (Speer, top seated row, fifth from right) U.S. Supreme Court Justice Robert Jackson, the chief U.S. prosecutor at Nuremberg, alleged, "Speer joined in planning and executing the program to dragoon prisoners of war and foreign workers into German war industries, which waxed in output while the workers waned in starvation.» Speer's attorney, Dr. Hans Flächsner, presented Speer as an artist thrust into political life, who had always remained a non-ideologue and who had been promised by Hitler that he could return to architecture after the war. During his testimony, Speer accepted responsibility for the Nazi regime's actions: 84 Wolfgang Thomale (25 February 1900 – 20 October 1978) was a highly decorated Generalleutnant in the Wehrmacht during World War II. He was also a recipient of the Knight's Cross of the Iron Cross. The Knight's Cross of the Iron Cross was awarded to recognise extreme battlefield bravery or successful military leadership. Wolfgang Thomale was captured by Allied troops in May 1945 and was released in 1946. 83
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Sturmgeschütz is a German word for "assault gun", usually abbreviated StuG. The vehicle was a leading weapon of the Sturmartillerie, a branch of the German artillery tasked with close fire support of infantry in infantry, panzer, and panzergrenadier units. StuGs were very successful in their intended support role and destroyed, among others, many bunkers, pillboxes and other defenses. Destruction of enemy tanks eventually became its main priority as the Wehrmacht (German Defense Force) in the Soviet Union did not have sufficient gun power in many of its 1941– 42 era tanks (Czech panzer 38(t), Panzer III) to take on the increased numbers of Soviet T-34 and KV-1 tanks. It is estimated that by 1944 StuG battalions had destroyed 20,000 enemy tanks, mostly T-34s. In 1942 and 1943, the StuG was one of the most effective tracked vehicles of World War II in terms of opposition vehicles destroyed, and over 10,000 of them were eventually produced. The Germans were so excited by the initial StuG success that they turned to folly by producing the near useless Elefant "StuG" on obsolescent Porsche tank hulls (the Porsche had been beaten out by the Henschel Tiger I, using the same Krupp-designed turret as the Porsche hull design, for heavy tank production). These Elefants proved completely unwieldy and did not even have the regular StuG III and IV advantage of a low profile. By late 1943, improved Allied tanks and tank destroyers (US) with improved guns, rotating turrets, and superior mobility (brought on not only by technology, but also improved tactics) forced the StuG III and IVs into the corner of being primarily an ambush weapon. While the ambush tactic still took a steady, but nonetheless sustainable toll of opposition tanks, improved air ground coordination by Allied forces—due to near complete air superiority—led to elevated StuG losses. In a defensive position, many Soviet T-34/85 tanks, US Sherman, M10 and M18 Tank destroyers and British Cromwell tanks occasionally "impaled" themselves on StuGs while engaging in offensive tactics. Eventually it was the StuGs that were being ambushed, both by aircraft and tanks/tank destroyers that had been warned by aircraft. The inability to traverse the gun became an acute weakness. 86 Friedrich von Rabenau (10 October 1884 – 9 April 1945) was a German career-soldier, general, theologian, and opponent of National Socialism. Rabenau was born in Berlin to the physician Friedrich von Rabenau (1847–1885) and Wally, née Noebel. He joined the Prussian Army in 1903 as a member of the 72nd Field Artillery Regiment (stationed at Danzig), served in World War I, and remained in the Weimar German Reichswehr. In 1936, Von Rabenau was assigned by the then head of the general staff, Generaloberst Ludwig August Theodor Beck, to establish (from the Reichsarchiv) the first central archive of the German army, in Potsdam. Well suited to the task, Rabenau strove to prevent ideological falsifications with a scientific diligence in gathering sources that was second to none. His Christian beliefs led him to join the opposition to Nazism early. Rabenau was a Rechtsritter ("Knight of Justice") in the supradenominational Order of Saint John. As a Protestant Christian and a general, he successfully applied to then Reichsführer SS Heinrich Himmler for permission to take over Maria Laach Abbey, which had been seized from Roman Catholic Cardinal Graf von Galen in Münster. Rabenau joined no resistance group, though he did act as a conduit between Generaloberst Ludwig Beck and Carl Friedrich Goerdeler, whom he knew from his time as an Abteilungskommandeur ("Section Commander") in Königsberg (now Kaliningrad). In mid-1942, Von Rabenau was relieved of his office, transferred to the rank of General der Artillerie ("General of Artillery"), and sent into premature retirement. He studied Protestant theology at the University of Berlin and in 1943 was made Licentiatus theologiae, writing his dissertation on military chaplaincy. Von Rabenau was arrested in the aftermath of the plot which culminated in the attempt on Hitler's life on July 20, 1944. On April 9, 1945, without having been charged or tried, General von Rabenau, one of the last inmates remaining in the Flossenbürg concentration camp, was hanged on the specific orders of Himmler. Surviving him were his widow Eva Kautz and their two daughters 85
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Panzergrenadier (help·info) (abbreviated PzGren or Pzg) is a German term for motorised or mechanized infantry, as introduced during World War II. It is used in the armies of Austria, Chile, Germany and Switzerland. The term Panzergrenadier was not adopted until 1942. Infantry in panzer divisions from 1937 onwards were known as Schützen Regiments; they wore the same rose pink piping on their uniforms as the tank crews (with an "S" cypher that distinguished the Schützen from the tank and anti-tank units that also wore that colour). Soldiers in special Motorized Infantry units wore the standard white piping of the Infantry. In 1942, when Infantry Regiments were renamed as Grenadier Regiments by Hitler as a historical homage to Frederick the Great's Army, the Schützen regiments (and the soldiers in them) began to be redesignated as Panzergrenadier regiments, as did Motorized Infantry units and soldiers. Their Waffenfarbe was also changed from either white (in the case of Motorized Infantry) or rose pink to a meadowgreen shade previously worn by motorcycle troops. Some units did not change over their designations and/or waffenfarbe accoutrements until 1943, and many veteran Schützen ignored regulations and kept their rose-pink until the end of the war. The Panzergrenadier divisions were organized as combined arms formations, usually with six battalions of truck-mounted infantry organized into either two or three regiments, a battalion of tanks, and an ordinary division's complement of artillery, reconnaissance units, combat engineers, anti-tank and anti-aircraft artillery, and so forth. All these support elements would also be mechanized in a PzGren. division, though most of the artillery, anti-tank, and anti-aircraft elements were equipped with weapons towed by trucks rather than the relatively rare armored and self-propelled models. In practice the PzGren. divisions were often equipped with heavy assault guns rather than tanks, due to a chronic shortage of tanks throughout the German armed forces. A few elite units, on the other hand, might have the tanks plus a battalion of heavy assault guns for their anti-tank element, and armored carriers for some of their infantry battalions as well. On paper a Panzergrenadier division had one tank battalion less than a Panzer division, but two more infantry battalions, and thus was almost as strong as a Panzer division, especially on the defensive. Of 226 panzergrenadier battalions in the whole of the German Army, Luftwaffe and Waffen SS in September 1943, only 26 were equipped with armoured half tracks, or just over 11 percent. The rest were equipped with trucks. 88 Claus Philipp Maria Schenk Graf von Stauffenberg commonly referred to as Claus Schenk Graf von Stauffenberg Claus von Stauffenberg, or Colonel Claus von Stauffenberg; 15 November 1907 – 21 July 1944) was a German army officer and Catholic aristocrat who was one of the leading members of the failed 20 July plot of 1944 to assassinate Adolf Hitler and remove the Nazi Party from power. Along with Henning von Tresckow and Hans Oster, he was one of the central figures of the German Resistance movement within the Wehrmacht. For his involvement in the movement he was shot shortly after the failed attempt known as Operation Valkyrie. Stauffenberg's given name was Claus Philipp Maria Justinian, with the noble title at the end. He was born in the Stauffenberg castle of Jettingen between Ulm and Augsburg, in the eastern part of Swabia, at that time in the Kingdom of Bavaria, part of the German Empire. He was the third of four sons including the twins Berthold and Alexander and his own twin brother Konrad Maria, who died in Jettingen one day after birth on 16 November 1907. His father was Alfred Klemens Philipp Friedrich Justinian, the last Oberhofmarschall of the Kingdom of Württemberg. His mother was Caroline Schenk Gräfin von Stauffenberg, née Gräfin von Üxküll-Gyllenband, the daughter of Alfred Richard August Graf von Üxküll-Gyllenband and Valerie Gräfin von Hohenthal. In an attempt to save his own life, co-conspirator Generaloberst Friedrich Fromm, Commander-inChief of the Replacement Army present in the Bendlerblock (Headquarters of the Army), charged other conspirators in an impromptu court martial and condemned the ringleaders of the conspiracy to death. Colonel Claus von Stauffenberg, his aide 1st Lieutenant Werner von Haeften, Colonel General Friedrich Olbricht, and Colonel Albrecht Mertz von Quirnheim were executed before 1:00 am that night (21 July 1944) by a makeshift firing squad in the courtyard of the Bendlerblock, which was lit by the headlights of a truck. 89 Guderian's times are extracted from his sworn affidavit. 90 Reference to a post-war affidavit sworn by Thomale. 87
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Heinrich Luitpold Himmler (7 October 1900 – 23 May 1945) was Reichsführer of the Schutzstaffel (SS), a military commander, and a leading member of the Nazi Party (NSDAP). As Chief of the German Police and the Minister of the Interior from 1943, Himmler oversaw all internal and external police and security forces, including the Gestapo (Secret State Police). Serving as Reichsführer and later as Commander of the Replacement (Home) Army and General Plenipotentiary for the entire Reich's administration (Generalbevollmächtigter für die Verwaltung), Himmler was one of the most powerful men in Nazi Germany and one of the persons most directly responsible for the Holocaust. As overseer of the concentration camps, extermination camps, and Einsatzgruppen (literally: task forces, often used as death squads operating to the rear of frontline troops to murder Jews, communists and 'untermensch' in occupied territories), Himmler coordinated the killing of some six million Jews, between 200,000 and 500,000 Roma, many prisoners of war, and possibly another three to four million Poles, as well as other groups whom the Nazis deemed unworthy to live, including people with physical and mental disabilities, Jehovah's Witnesses, members of the Confessing Church, and homosexuals. Shortly before the end of the war, he offered to surrender both Germany and himself to the Western Allies if he were spared prosecution. After being arrested by British forces on 22 May 1945, he committed suicide the following day before he could be questioned. Unwanted by his former colleagues and hunted by the Allies, Himmler wandered for several days around Flensburg near the Danish border. Attempting to evade arrest, he disguised himself as a sergeant-major of the Secret Military Police, using the name Heinrich Hitzinger, shaving his moustache and donning an eye patch over his left eye, in the hope that he could return to Bavaria. He had equipped himself with a set of false documents, but someone whose papers were wholly in order was so unusual that it aroused the suspicions of a British Army unit in Bremen. Himmler was arrested on 22 May by Major Sidney Excell and soon recognized while in captivity. Himmler was scheduled to stand trial with other German leaders as a war criminal at Nuremberg, but on 23 May committed suicide in Lüneburg by means of a potassium cyanide capsule before interrogation could begin. His last words were Ich bin Heinrich Himmler! ("I am Heinrich Himmler!"). Another version has Himmler biting into a hidden cyanide pill embedded in one of his teeth, when searched by a British doctor, who then yelled, "He has done it!" Several attempts to revive Himmler were unsuccessful. Shortly afterward, Himmler's body was buried in an unmarked grave near Lüneburg. The precise location of Himmler's grave remains unknown 92 Volksgrenadier was the name given to a type of German Army division formed in the Autumn of 1944 after the double loss of Army Group Center to the Soviets in Operation Bagration and the Fifth Panzer Army to the Allies in Normandy. The name itself was intended to build morale, appealing at once to nationalism (Volk) and Germany's older military traditions (Grenadier). Germany formed 78 VGDs during the war. Volksgrenadiers and Volksgrenadier divisions should not be confused with the Volkssturm, which is an entirely different entity. 93 Corroborated to the author from a private source. 94 Recently it has been suggested that Guderian did not make his request to transfer the main defensive forces to the east until after the Russians attacked. The evidence is academic and too thin to be persuasive. 91
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Ulrich Friedrich Wilhelm Joachim von Ribbentrop (30 April 1893 – 16 October 1946) was Foreign Minister of Germany from 1938 until 1945. He was later hanged for war crimes after the Nuremberg Trials. Joachim von Ribbentrop was born in Wesel, Rhenish Prussia, to Richard Ulrich Friedrich Joachim Ribbentrop, a career army officer, and his wife, Johanne Sophie Hertwig. Ribbentrop was educated irregularly at private schools in Germany and Switzerland. From 1904 to 1908, Ribbentrop took French courses in a school at Metz, the German Empire's most powerful fortress. A former teacher later recalled that Ribbentrop "was the most stupid in his class, full of vanity and very pushy". His father was cashiered from the Imperial German Army in 1908—after repeatedly disparaging Kaiser Wilhelm II for his alleged homosexuality—and the Ribbentrop family were often short of money. Fluent in both French and English, young Ribbentrop lived at various times in Grenoble, France, and London, before travelling to Canada in 1910. Initially, Ribbentrop planned to emigrate to German East Africa, where he hoped to become a planter. But during a summer holiday in Switzerland in 1909, Ribbentrop fell in love with a wealthy young socialite named Catherine Bell, from a Montreal banking family, which led him to substitute Canada for Tanganyika as his preferred destination. Ribbentrop played a key role in the conclusion of a Soviet-German non-aggression pact, the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact, in 1939, and in the diplomatic action surrounding the attack on Poland. In public, Ribbentrop expressed great fury at the Polish refusal to allow for Danzig's return to the Reich, or to grant Polish permission for the "extra-territorial" highways, but since these matters were only intended after March 1939 to be a pretext for German aggression, Ribbentrop always refused in private to allow for any talks between German and Polish diplomats about these matters. It was Ribbentrop's fear that if German-Polish talks did take place, there was the danger that the Poles might back down and agree to the German demands as the Czechoslovaks had done in 1938 under Anglo-French pressure, and thereby deprive the Germans of their excuse for aggression Ribbentrop was a defendant at the Nuremberg Trials. He was charged with crimes against peace, deliberately planning a war of aggression, war crimes, and crimes against humanity. Prosecutors presented evidence that Ribbentrop actively planned German aggression and to deport Jews to death camps. He also advocated executing American and British airmen shot down over Germany. The latter two charges carried the penalty of death by hanging. The Allies' International Military Tribunal found him guilty on all counts. But even in prison, Ribbentrop remained loyal to Hitler: "Even with all I know, if in this cell Hitler should come to me and say 'Do this!', I would still do it." Ribbentrop was the first politician to be hanged on 16 October 1946 (Göring having committed suicide before his own hanging). He was escorted up the 13 steps to the waiting noose and asked if he had any final words. He calmly said: "God protect Germany. God have mercy on my soul. My final wish is that Germany should recover her unity and that, for the sake of peace, there should be understanding between East and West." 95
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Hans Krebs (4 March 1898 – 2 May 1945) was a German Army (Wehrmacht Heer) general of infantry who served during World War II. He was also a recipient of the Knight's Cross of the Iron Cross with Oak Leaves (German: Ritterkreuz des Eisernen Kreuzes mit Eichenlaub). The Knight's Cross of the Iron Cross and its higher grade Oak Leaves was awarded to recognise extreme battlefield bravery or successful military leadership. Krebs was born in Helmstedt. He volunteered for service in the Imperial German Army in 1914, was promoted to lieutenant in 1915, and to first lieutenant in 1925. Krebs was a career officer, and reached the position of chief of staff of various army groups until he became a General of Infantry As Chief of the Army General Staff (OKH), Krebs was in the Führerbunker below the Reich Chancellery garden during the Battle of Berlin. On 28 April 1945, Krebs made his last telephone call from the Führerbunker. He called Field Marshal Wilhelm Keitel at the new Supreme Command Headquarters in Fürstenberg. He told Keitel that, if relief did not arrive within 48 hours, all was lost. Keitel promised to exert the utmost pressure on General Walther Wenck who commanded the German 12th Army and General Theodor Busse who commanded the German 9th Army. The 12th Army was attacking towards Berlin from the west and the 9th Army was attacking from the south. Adolf Hitler had ordered both of these armies to link up and come to the relief of Berlin. In addition, forces under General Rudolf Holste were to have attacked towards Berlin from the north. As the Soviets advanced on the Reich Chancellery, Krebs was last seen by others, including Junge, in the Führerbunker when they left to attempt to escape. Junge relates how she approached Krebs to say goodbye and how he straightened up and smoothed his uniform before greeting her for the last time. Krebs and General Wilhelm Burgdorf, along with SS Untersturmführer Franz Schädle of the SS-Begleitkommando des Führers, stayed behind with the intention of committing suicide. Sometime in the early morning hours of 2 May, they committed suicide by gunshot to the head. The bodies of Krebs and Burgdorf were found when Soviet personnel entered the bunker complex. Schädle also committed suicide and Högl was wounded in the head while crossing the Weidendammer Bridge (during the break out) and died of his injuries on 2 May 1945. Thereafter, the corpses of Krebs, the Goebbels family along with the remains of Hitler, Eva Braun and Hitler's dogs were repeatedly buried and exhumed by the Soviets. The last burial had been at the SMERSH facility in Magdeburg on 21 February 1946. In 1970, KGB director Yuri Andropov authorised an operation to destroy the remains. On 4 April 1970, a Soviet KGB team with detailed burial charts secretly exhumed five wooden boxes. The remains from the boxes were thoroughly burned and crushed, after which the ashes were thrown into the Biederitz river, a tributary of the nearby Elbe 97 Erhard Milch (30 March 1892 – 25 January 1972) was a German Field Marshal who oversaw the development of the Luftwaffe as part of the re-armament of Germany following World War I, and served as founding Director of Deutsche Luft Hansa. Erhard Milch was one of the few high ranking Jews in the Wehrmacht. Milch was born in Wilhelmshaven, the son of Anton Milch, a pharmacist of Jewish descent, in the Kaiserliche Marine, and Clara Milch, née Rosenau. Milch enlisted in the German Army in 1910, where he rose to the rank of Lieutenant in the artillery. He later transferred to the Luftstreitkräfte and trained as an aerial observer. Although not a pilot, he was appointed to command a fighter wing, Jagdgruppe 6, as a Captain in the waning days of the war. In 1944 Milch sided with Joseph Goebbels and Heinrich Himmler in attempting to convince Adolf Hitler to remove Göring from command of the Luftwaffe following the failed invasion of the Soviet Union. Following Hitler’s suicide, Milch attempted to flee Germany, but was captured by Allied forces on the Baltic coast on 4 May 1945. On surrendering he presented his baton to the Commando Brigadier Derek Mills-Roberts, who was so disgusted by what he had seen when liberating the Bergen-Belsen concentration camp that he broke the baton over Milch's head. 96
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