Countdown to D-Day

by Peter Margaritis

  The worst of it was that von Rundstedt was—at least for a few months—stuck with him. And Rommel had recently been openly (although not blatantly) boasting about his close ties with the Führer, even despite his failures in North Africa.

  It seems to this old rooster that Marshal Laddie is out to steal his barnyard…

  1He never did.

  2In an interview with Basil Liddell Hart after the war, von Rundstedt recalled the story and added, “Significantly, the Mius River line was the only sector of the front that was not taken during the winter of 1941–42.”

  Monday, December 13

  Generalfeldmarschall Rommel, satisfied with his tour and with his initial findings on his inspection of the Danish coast finally complete, submits his report to OKW. In it, he recommends restructuring the units for more efficient operations. Optimistically, he concludes that Denmark can be successfully defended if these restructuring points are done.

  ***

  Generalfeldmarschall von Rundstedt is still mulling over Rommel’s assignment to France and its impact upon him. While the crusty Prussian has no personal animosity towards the Swabian, he does have misgivings about how the younger field marshal will handle his critical assignment. And Supreme High Command is considering creating a separate army group command for northern France, and it looks like Rommel might get it. If he does, von Rundstedt will lose a considerable amount of his command power in France, even though Wilhelm Keitel, the OKW chief of staff, came to visit him late last month about this very subject.

  Von Rundstedt thinks back to that visit late last November. He did not think Keitel’s trip west was for any good reason. And Keitel would never have made the decision to come himself. So this was only a visit of protocol, ordered by the Führer.

  At 6’1”, solidly built, square-jawed Wilhelm Bodewin Johann Gustav Keitel was the Armed Forces Chief of Staff. He had held that position since 1938. At the end of 1937, Werner von Blomberg, who had commanded the Wehrmacht at the time, suddenly became a target of scandal that centered on his engagement to a young women who Göring and Himmler conveniently found had had a pornographic past. Blomberg was forced to resign in January. When Hitler, out of respect for the man, asked him who he would recommend as his successor, Blomberg suggested that Hitler himself take over the job. Hitler immediately seized on this opportunity to take command of the Armed Forces himself.

  But who to get for his chief of staff? He needed someone that would follow orders without hesitation, and allow himself to be controlled. Hitler directed the question to von Blomberg. The old general, depressed over his own dismissal, had again not been able to suggest anyone.

  “Well,” Hitler had pressed, “who is yours?”

  Von Blomberg had looked at him and replied, “Wilhem Keitel.”

  “Keitel,” Hitler had echoed, trying to place the name. “Ah, yes…”

  “But,” von Blomberg had protested, “he’s just the man who runs my office.”

  Keitel was also his son-in-law, but he did not add that.

  Hitler had turned to him at that remark, snapped his fingers, and had exclaimed, “That’s EXACTLY the man I’m looking for.”

  So on February 4, Keitel had stepped into the inner circle of power, to the astonishment of the entire General Staff; including Keitel himself. Hitler himself took over as Commander-in-chief of the Armed Forces. The German War Ministry had been replaced by the Oberkommando der Wehrmacht, with Keitel its chief of staff, one of the most powerful positions within the Reich.

  And yet, it was not for this reason that he was so unpopular with his army peers. Most officers in the General Staff and serving in the field saw him as Hitler’s blindingly loyal toady. He was firm in dealing with others only when he was trying to carry out the Führer’s wishes. They even had a nickname for him. Behind his back, they dubbed him “Laikeitel.” 1 They also sometimes called him “Nichgeselle,”2 which referred to a popular metal toy donkey that always nodded its head up and down from dipping it in a small water container. They even saw personal weakness in his walk, which was a quick but hesitating sort of step.

  Keitel, well aware of the opinions held by his peers, often expressed misery in having to do the Führer’s bidding. Still, he was after all a Prussian, and orders were orders. Hitler was satisfied with that. In fact, back in early 1938 when he had decided to take over command of the armed forces, he had chosen Keitel to be his chief of staff for that very reason.

  The first few years, Hitler had even chided him with teasing remarks like, “You know, von Blomberg would never have let me get away with that.” As the war turned against Germany though, Hitler was reported as often lashing out at Keitel, who in turn would merely stand there and take the verbal abuse.3 Von Rundstedt had heard through the grapevine that one time Keitel’s name had come up while Hitler was conversing with some high-ranking officers, and he had characterized him by commenting, “You know, he has the brains of a movie usher.”

  The general to whom he had been speaking had asked, “So why then, mein Führer, did you make him the highest ranking individual in the German army?”

  Hitler had turned to the officer with a sly smile, and had replied, “Because the man’s as loyal as a dog.”

  ***

  In late November of 1943, shortly after Rommel was appointed Inspector-General for the West, Keitel traveled to Paris and arrived at the Hôtel Georges V, a luxurious, historic Parisian establishment that is now a quasi-headquarters and officers’ winter quarters for OB West and his staff.4 Checking in, he had met the Prussian in the grandiose dining room. After an exquisite dinner and a leisurely walk, they had sat down and talked about the soon-to-be arriving new inspector.

  Keitel, sporting his monocle and having been pumped up as usual by the Führer, had been true to form. Bombastically, overly optimistic, he claimed that he had come to France for one special purpose: to personally relay Hitler’s assurance that no matter what, von Rundstedt would retain the top command post in Western Europe. Rommel was not going to relieve him. He was to be strictly subordinate to OB West. Von Rundstedt had nothing to worry about on that account.

  Was he lying? Who knew?

  As a matter of fact, Keitel had added with a sly smile, von Rundstedt would eventually find Rommel to be a valuable asset for a number of reasons. He was, after all, an excellent tactical commander, and had proven to be a brave leader in combat. And remember, Keitel had reminded him, Rommel had fought well under von Rundstedt once before, referring of course to their 1940 blitzkrieg campaign against France.

  Lowering his voice as if he were about to divulge some inner confidence, Keitel had tried to spice up his speech with what he hoped would be a little bit of dirt. Hitler, he confided, privately did not consider Rommel to be a great strategist, even though he was indeed a dynamic leader. Von Rundstedt had seen through this con though, and had expressed his concerns, mainly about Rommel gaining influence and power over time.

  Von Rundstedt had pointed out that he himself was not in great health. So if he eventually had to go, maybe he might be “coerced” down the road into taking sick leave again, and thus be taken out of command altogether, as he had back in November, 1941 on the Eastern Front.

  Keitel was sometimes a bit slow, but he was not stupid. He had picked up von Rundstedt’s skepticism, so he had pressed his point home. “Should the time ever come for your replacement because of failing health,” he continued, “the Führer wishes you to know that only Generalfeldmarschall von Kluge5 would be in the running to succeed you,” which confirmed what von Rundstedt had officially been notified by message a week ago.

  Von Rundstedt gritted his teeth upon hearing that. Keitel did not realize that this bit of flattery had only removed what little credibility he might have had up to that point. He did not know that von Rundstedt had his own covert intelligence network—well actually, a refined grapevine. His sources had informed him recently that von Kluge had been wounded last month in Russia, and at this time could not command anyth
ing. Keitel was lying, just trying to placate him.6

  Keitel continued on. “At any rate, Rommel would never replace you,” he concluded. Hitler had proclaimed that. Rommel was just not suited for strategic command. He simply was “not supreme commander material.” Rather, he was only good for “Seydlitz-type attacks, as at Rossback,”7 but certainly not competent to command strategic operations. Keitel knew how to spread it when he had to.

  Keitel then again had leaned over towards the old man and had stated dryly, “Look, you’ll find Rommel a tiresome person because he doesn’t like taking orders from anybody. In Africa, of course, he very much ran his own show...” Solemnly, he added, “But the Führer believes that you are the one man to whom even Rommel will show due respect.”

  Listening to Keitel, von Rundstedt had understood what was going on. This emissary from Berlin was politely inferring that this new rooster, although he would never be Number One in the Western barnyard, was nevertheless here to stay; at least, until the Führer said otherwise.

  Von Rundstedt had smiled to Keitel ever-so-politely. He clearly could not believe anything this sycophant had said. He had then cordially excused himself, and retired for the evening to his lavish suite in the Hôtel. He preferred a good western paperback over listening to this clown. On the way to his room, he had grumbled several unflattering epithets under his breath about Hitler, Rommel, Keitel, and one or two other things while he was at it.

  ***

  Coming back to the present, von Rundstedt worries once more about Rommel’s appointment. He still believes this so-called “Desert Fox” will eventually replace him. It has happened too often before.

  Secretly, the old man realizes that he does not really know Rommel that well. True, they had occasionally seen each other at Supreme Headquarters in the first year of the war, and the younger man had served under him in that hectic spring of 1940. Even so, the old Prussian had hardly seen him before or during that campaign. Since then, von Rundstedt had followed Rommel’s exploits in North Africa, though he has not been too impressed by them. After all, Africa has always been in his opinion just a sideshow to the conflicts in Europe.

  And yet, von Rundstedt does grudgingly approve of Rommel as a good German officer and a competent leader in the field. He had become an excellent panzer commander and was a quick learner. But as a Prussian aristocrat, von Rundstedt haughtily looks down on the man’s commoner background. He was a Swabian, and spoke in the traditionally thick accent… And he sees Rommel’s blatant public style as another failing. Von Rundstedt feels that even a famous German officer should be humble to the public and not seek the limelight, as this man seems to do too often.

  Von Rundstedt glowers. Well fine, he grumbles to himself, if Berlin wants to replace him with this young upstart, that is all right with him. If that’s the way Hitler wants it, the old man is ready to turn over his headaches to this untrained whippersnapper. Between the worries of coastal defense, playing politics with the occupied French, and having to referee between all of his squabbling German commanders—well, Rommel could have it. Let that foul-mouthed Swabian make some new mistakes. Either way, he is tired of playing Hitler’s political games.

  Patience has never been his strong suit.

  1The term, a play on Keitel’s last name, translates to “lackey.”

  2Literally, “nodding donkey.”

  3In his defense, Keitel recalled (at the Nuremberg trials) that Hitler “made his accusations, objections and criticisms as a rule at people who were not present. I took the part of the absent person as a matter of principle because he could not defend himself. The result was that the accusations and criticisms were then aimed at me.”

  4This was common for the field marshal. He often moved into a Parisian Hôtel as winter approached. Ostensibly, this was to save on coal and staff operation efficiency. A good part of it though was more than likely for the ambiance and to take advantage of the capital’s many pleasurable conveniences.

  5Fifty-one-year-old Günther von Kluge, a World War I artilleryman (he had been at Verdun) had made quite a reputation for himself at the beginning of World War II. Commanding the famed Fourth Army, he had surprisingly distinguished himself in Poland and across France, for which he was promoted to field marshal in the summer of 1940. Despite his old-fashioned approaches to warfare (he was known to be a methodical, cautious commander), he also played a dramatic role in the early stages of Barbarossa. With his army nearly at the gates of Moscow in the summer of 1941, von Kluge, nicknamed “der kluge Hans” (“Clever Hans,” an anecdotal reference to a pre-war German horse that supposedly could do arithmetic), had argued with Guderian later that year over some tactical withdrawals that Guderian had ordered. Von Kluge was given command of Army Group Center on December 19, relieving his superior von Bock, who was supposedly ill, but was sacked for failing to take Moscow. Several other generals were fired that day as well, including OKH head Feldmarschall von Brauchitsch as head of the OKH, with Hitler himself assuming personal command of the Eastern Front. Guderian was relieved of his command a week later.

  6Von Rundstedt was right. Von Kluge commanded Heeresgruppe Mitte (Army Group Center) on the Eastern Front. On October 27, 1943, his staff vehicle skidded on a patch of ice along the road between Minsk and Smolensk. It careened into a ditch and overturned. Von Kluge was mortally injured, and the crash left him an invalid. Replaced by General Ludwig Kübler, he would be out of service for at least seven months.

  7General Friedrich Freiherr von Seydlitz—Seydlitz was the lead cavalry commander under Frederick the Great. On November 5, 1757, at the battle of Rossback, Seydlitz’s Prussian cavalry made a surprise charge on the flank of the much larger French—Austrian army. The charge inflicted enormous casualties, and was disastrous for the enemy.

  Tuesday, December 14

  Generalfeldmarschall Rommel this morning departs the Silkeborg railway station by staff car for a nearby airport. His He-111 will fly him down to his home in Germany for some well-deserved leave. His staff members, still aboard their special train, depart for France, all except his naval advisor. Admiral Ruge is on his way to report to OKM, 1 the Naval High Command headquarters at Eberswalde Germany, some 675km away.

  Rommel will enjoy seeing his wife and son. Lucie as always is happy to see him, and young Manfred is more than willing to go on a daily walk with his father.

  The family is temporarily staying at the home of a brewer’s widow in a small town called Herrlingen, because their new villa is not quite yet ready. Located near Ulm, deep in his native Swabia, Herrlingen is a quiet little town dotted with small, beautiful homes, and surrounded by lovely woods. A gurgling stream wanders through the center of the town.

  The family will stay with the widow until the villagers of Herrlingen can get the more suitable quarters ready for their new honored residents. The villa, located at No. 13 Wippengerstrasse, is one of a number of white cottages topped with roofs of red tile. The outside walls of the villa mount sponsons that overflow with varieties of flowers and assorted domestic plants. Once a Jewish rest home, 2 it had been until now vacant, and the city of Ulm was happy to agree to rent it to the field marshal. The landscapers are now working on the lot.

  For safety reasons, Rommel had decided that they needed to move back in the fall of 1943. Unfortunately, Lucie has not been happy about leaving their lovely bungalow in Wiener Neustadt, some 61km south of Vienna. She loved their home, and did not want to give it up. Lucie could be resolute in her beliefs and firm in getting her way (although he does not remember her being so when they first married in late 1916). All too often, Rommel, the great panzer hero of North Africa, the legendary Desert Fox, had found himself quietly bowing to her wishes. Well, what was he to do? He loved her.

  But by that summer, the lovely area had undergone a radical transformation. The quaint town, once unobtrusive and peaceful, where they could go for a walk, breathe fresh, country air, and get lost in lovely nearby rolling meadows, had unfortunately changed because of
the war. Germany’s struggle had brought industry into the area, transforming the quiet rural setting into a networked manufacturing center. This included a nearby factory complex to produce their dreaded Messerschmitt fighters.

  As the war had progressed and fortune had turned slowly against the Third Reich, more and more targets in Germany had been visited by those ever-growing Allied air formations, dropping their hated destruction upon the land. The proximity of the nearby Messerschmitt factories, the intensifying enemy air raid campaigns, the aerial destruction of Hamburg in late July 1943, the Allied landings in Italy, and

  then the bombing of Berlin in August had persuaded him to move his family to a more quiet area, no matter how much his wife protested. His mind was made up. Now as soon as it was finished, they would move in their new home.

  It would be his last.

  1Oberkommando der Kriegsmarine. The German Navy’s High Command.

  2The structure until 1933 was a boarding school for Jewish children. When the school closed down in 1939, the building was purportedly used by the local Nazi administration for Jewish residents in the area as a Jewish retirement home, until its occupants had “emigrated” (relocated) elsewhere, probably to concentration camps. Confiscated, the home had been converted into a lovely villa, and offered to the Mayor of Ulm to use if ever the city began getting bombed. However, the Nazi party shortly thereafter accused him of deserting his own city, so the mayor was forced to decline the offer. It was then offered as a rental by the city to the field marshal.