Countdown to D-Day
Page 21
The field marshal usually works at the villa. He avoids going down to the blockhouse unless there is a pressing situation, conference, or whenever he has to use the communications complex to make a long-distance phone call.
Whenever he does go to the command bunker, he leaves his villa through the back door. He walks across the roomy courtyard, heading for the gate in the railed fence. Next to that back gate is his modest rose garden, tended for him by his gardener, M. Ernest Gavoury.5 The old servant faithfully tends to all flowers there, and von Rundstedt, who loves gardening, spends many hours of his spare time talking to the old Frenchman and fussing with his roses.
With the field marshal now on leave, the complex is getting expanded, with several more rooms and offices being added to the basement of the command bunker, expanding it to 40 rooms. At the same time, the nearby communications network is being improved. About a dozen 5cm-thick, heavily insulated copper telephone cables now connect the headquarters with Berlin and the Berghof. There are also several other communication cables for teletype and other landline communication links. These lines will eventually connect directly to other commands in Europe, including those of the Luftwaffe and the Kriegsmarine.
Rooms in his nearby villa are also being improved upon or added to in the field marshal’s absence. Some of them he will enjoy; some of them he will not.
Take the bomb shelters, for instance.
There had been no protective cellar for him in case of an air raid. Blumentritt, living with him in the villa, was understandably concerned. He had pointed out to the field marshal more than once that a single bomb could take out their entire house. There was little anti-aircraft defense in St.-Germain—a couple of light batteries, manned by the headquarters security unit.
The field marshal though, had totally dismissed the idea of a bomb shelter. He did not want any ugly concrete structure in his backyard, his villa, his garden, or anywhere else nearby. It would just ruin his view. Whenever anybody ventured a comment that he needed SOME sort of air protection, he would growl back, “One can be killed just as comfortably in bed as in the cellar.” Besides, bombing the surrounding residential area would be tantamount to bombing Paris itself, which he believed would not go over well with the French, either in occupied Europe or exiled in England.
Surprisingly, the people around town had supported his presence in the area, and he had quite relished that. And because of him, they did not fear air raids. “Our best anti-aircraft protection is Field Marshal von Rundstedt,” was a popular phrase of the local folks.
Once as he was walking in the alley behind the park, the air raid sirens had begun. He of course had no interest in going to a shelter but was surprised to see an older housewife out on the street as well. As she calmly walked past him, a shopping basket on her arm, he asked her, “Mais Madame, vous n’avez pas peur des bombes?”
She looked at him calmly and replied, “Pourquoi aurais-je peur, mon maréchal? Ils ne bombarderont pas St.-Germain. Il n’y a aucun objectif militaire ici, et rien ne se passe jamais.”6,
Eventually though, the problem of his lack of protection had also come to the attention of the Führer. In response, he had ordered Blumentritt (through Jodl) to see to it that a bomb shelter was built immediately. The chief of staff knew the old man would strongly oppose the idea, and he could be quite cantankerous and obstinate at times. He would most strenuously object, no matter how high the orders originated. And he would raise all kinds of hell when construction began. So, to carry out the Führer’s orders and yet not incur the field marshal’s renowned wrath, Blumentritt concluded that subterfuge was necessary. He had therefore conspired with the Organization Todt to design and then execute the entire project in secret.
The plans were covertly finished in mid-1943, just before von Rundstedt had gone on leave. When he departed for his favorite spa at Bad Tölz, the project had immediately started, and the air raid shelter had been completed in the villa’s basement in his absence.
Upon his return, the irate field marshal had reluctantly accepted this fait accompli, although he swore that he would never go into the verdammte thing. Unfortunately, construction of this sheltered basement had not been enough to satisfy Hitler. He ordered that another, larger, more fortified shelter be built, with specific instructions that this one be outdoors, located, of all places, next to von Rundstedt’s beautiful garden. No one could object to the Führer, so reluctantly, the same planning technique had been implemented. Now that the field marshal has again gone on leave, the second shelter is being built.
***
Rommel spends his early morning going over paperwork and has a couple meetings to analyze the observations of his last inspection tour.
In the meantime, his army group staff finishes a directive on how to sabotage the ports and make them unusable by the Allies. Another directive is written on how to defend St. Malo Bay. The two documents instruct the Kriegsmarine to use what few patrol boats they have left to cover critical areas between radar sites. A letter is drafted for Rommel to sign, thanking Admiral Wurmbach7 for immediately undertaking Rommel’s recommendations.8
That morning, the field marshal goes to Paris to the Hôtel Georges V and has another talk with Günther Blumentritt in von Rundstedt’s absence. Afterward, he has a little free time, so he stops off to buy himself a sharp new black leather topcoat and a brown woolen one. Then he returns to Fontainebleau. When he arrives there, he is annoyed to find out that the already-scheduled meeting on implementing minefields had been delayed until his return.
Later that afternoon, Rommel meets with Oberst! Höffner of the Army’s Generalstab and a civilian representative of the French railroad. They discuss problems of transporting supplies.
1About 17km northwest of the capital.
2Eventually, some 500 homes in St.-Germain were used by the Germans.
3For more detail on the headquarters complex, see Appendix B, page 598.
4German female army volunteers. The French nicknamed them souris grises (“grey mice”).
5Gavoury, then 59 years old, had been the gardener for the villa’s owner, M. Randon. When the Germans requisitioned the residence in 1942, von Rundstedt allowed Gavoury to stay on to tend the garden.
6“Why would I be afraid, Field Marshal? They won’t bomb St.-Germain. There’s no military target here, and nothing ever happens here.”
7Fifty-two-year-old Vizeadmiral Hans-Heinrich Wurmbach, commanding the naval forces in Denmark.
8Admiral Ruge also records that on this day, a package of maps was delivered from the 191st Infantry Division. The 191st was part of the 33 Infantry Corps, stationed in occupied Norway.
Wednesday, February 2
The weather at Fontainebleau is nice today. Rommel spends most of the day tackling paperwork, making phone calls, and undertaking a number of meetings to set policy.
No expense is to be spared to get the Atlantic Wall strengthened. Although Rommel does not think highly of them, he has started to actively enlist the aid of the French, Belgian, and Dutch peasants. They in turn seem to be cooperative in helping his men construct the coastal defenses.
He makes sure that his staff and senior unit commanders understand that all civilian assistance is strictly voluntary. He realizes that those working for them are probably not collaborators. He is not deluded on that point. He knows the feelings of the general population regarding the occupation of France. No, they assist him for three reasons.
First, no matter what the civilians personally think about their work, he pays them very good wages and provides their meals while on the job. Second, he insists and ensures that they are treated fairly and honestly. He never lets them get harshly punished or inconvenienced. Third and most importantly, he finds it easy to convince them that the stronger the defenses are in their area, the more likely the Allied invasion will come somewhere else and not ruin their own land. It will be a matter of letting some other Frenchman suffer. “Let the invasion come, but not in my backyard,” becom
es a common expression.
So the men help with the beach obstacles, while the women fashion rush matting for sand traps, or help put up wooden stakes to snag gliders in the fields just behind the beaches. It is rough labor, especially constructing the obstacles out in the surf, with the wintery waves of seawater often crashing down upon the workers. At times their work is frustrated by the weather, either slowing down their progress, or even worse, undoing some of what they have constructed. More work is created if a two-day storm overturns several obstacles. Often a number of stakes get pulled up by the swells, dragged to shore by the crashing breakers, and rolled up onto the cold beaches.
Now that he has the authority, Rommel orders all the dikes in Holland opened. This floods thousands of acres of farmland with the cold, salty waters of the Atlantic. These surges cause considerable damage to arable lands, destruction that will take several years to undo.
Despite this draconian measure, he is pleasantly surprised to find that the local Dutch folk remain remarkably calm. They discover, just as their counterparts in France have done, that these actions make the invasion much less likely to occur in their area. So they have a better chance of preserving their homes and towns from the ravages of war, 1 while not actually thwarting the Allied war effort. And besides, it would be useless—no, dangerous—for them to resist his edicts.
That afternoon, just for relaxation, Rommel and a couple of his officers go out on an “armed promenade”—a combination of a walk in the woods and a leisure hunt. There are a number of rabbits and small wild boar in the area, and they would make for a nice meal.
During this time, they casually talk over some current items. The conversation is the only fruitful result of the hunt.
***
Today, Seventh Army commander Friedrich Dollmann and his staff celebrate his 62nd birthday.
It will be his last.
1Only too true. By the end of the battle for Normandy, both Caen and St. Lô would be almost totally shattered.
Thursday, February 3
The weather at Fontainebleau is lovely. Generalfeldmarschall Rommel, along with his chief engineer and naval advisor, is off again to inspect the Fifteenth Army. Reaching the Channel, they drive northeastward, up towards the Pas-de-Calais. Along the coast, some 8km south of Boulogne, they stop to examine some experimental obstacles put in at the water’s edge.
Rommel is pleased to find that the innovative troops there have found a way to make their work much easier. They are efficiently installing the stakes of offshore obstacles at low tide with high-water pressure using fire engine hoses, instead of with a clumsy pile-driver. This, he is told, knocks installation time from 45 minutes down to three or four. The officer in charge complains though, that that the hoses are “ancient,” and the high pressure causes them to frequently burst. Rommel promises to see what he can do.
They continue north, and are joined by the commander of 82nd Corps, General Sinnhuber.1 They survey a number of sites between Boulogne, Calais, and Wissant. They inspect some flat areas where flooding has just been started, to see the effects. Rommel is told that the corps can produce some 300—400 mines a day. The SS units in the area are helping to lay the minefields.
As sunset draws near, Rommel takes over the officers’ mess hall in Calais. There he has a talk with the local senior officers and his own group about the day’s results and what he expects.
That evening, he invites Konteradmiral Frisius, the local naval commander, and newly appointed 47th Infantry Division commander Generalleutnant Otto Elfelt to dinner. Rommel likes the two, and the dinner generally is satisfactory.
There is, though, one sore spot to the evening. The new appointee—perhaps in tribute to the field marshal, who is renowned for his makeshift command changes in the field—later remarks that he has no stomach for paperwork, and that it is in his mind a waste of time. Among other things, he will not want to take the time to send Heeresgruppe B maps and plans for the installation of his defensive measures in the area.
Rommel glares at him, and in an abrupt tone, sets the man straight right away. As a soldier, he does not cherish paperwork either, but he is not going to be kept in the dark on what his units are doing. Elfelt, chastened, agrees to comply.
Later that night, the field marshal writes to Lucie about his new coat:
I bought myself a leather overcoat and a woolen one. Please be so kind and send a check for 350.50 marks to the Verkaufsabteilung der Luftwaffe.2 Berlin Postal Check account No. 169187, and 157.85 marks to the Heereskleiderkasse.3 account No. 3522. Both coats are very nice, and I hope I won’t get any more Hexenschuss.4
***
Tonight, 280 aircraft fly another Steinbock air raid. Bombs are dropped all over the English countryside. Seventeen aircraft are lost, mostly over the Channel. Göring in response orders the raids hereafter to be conducted on moonlit nights, so that aircrews can better navigate. Pelz objects, pointing out that the bombers would be easier to spot and be shot down.
1Fifty-seven-year-old General der Artillerie Johann Sinnhuber, who took command of the corps on July 10, 1943. He survived the war and died on October 23, 1974.
2A type of commissary where Luftwaffe officers could purchase clothing articles.
3The army commissary.
4Lit. “witch’s shot.” A colorful term for neuralgic pains in the back and the shoulders (his lumbago).
Friday, February 4
At 8 a.m., Rommel has finished breakfast and is ready to start the day. The Calais port commander gives him a briefing on the port’s defenses. Then Rommel and his entourage, complete with photographers and reporters, leave to inspect them.
They come across one company working on defenses at an unused airfield some 5km from the coast. To him, that is too far from the beaches, and he orders them to work on positions along the shoreline.
The inspection party then drops in on newly appointed General Elfelt’s 47th Infantry Division, and finds out that the new CO is out meeting the troops. The good news is that the unit is heavily involved in mine installation. The bad news is that they have not as yet received any orders or instructions on creating offshore obstacles. Rommel corrects this at once, issuing orders right there.
He then immediately leaves and goes east-southeast to Tourcoing, the Fifteenth Army headquarters. There he confers with von Salmuth, no doubt partly about how orders to construct offshore obstacles have not as yet reached some units. They talk privately again, but this time, no one hears any yelling coming from behind the closed door.
On the way back to his headquarters, Rommel (in front next to Daniel, the driver), Meise, and Ruge discuss the problems they have seen with constructing the obstacles and the minelaying. They go on to talk about other things, and Rommel relates to the others a story that took place in the late 1930s. Just an Oberst!leutnant at that time, he had arranged a meeting between the Minister of Education and the leader of the Hitler Youth. He had wanted to make sure that the schools did not become a battleground between the teachers and the youth leaders. His efforts on this occasion, he recalled, had failed.1
***
Today, General Erich Marcks in Normandy writes home to his wife. In the letter, the corps commander tells her about the impression the new army group commander has made upon him:
Rommel is the same age as me but looks older, perhaps because Africa and its many trials have left their mark on him. He told me a lot about Africa and Italy. My impression is that although he’s very blunt and earnest, he’s not just a flash in the pan, but a real general. It’s a good thing that A H [Adolf Hitler] holds him in high esteem despite all his outspokenness, and gives him these important jobs.
1In February of 1937, Rommel was appointed the War Ministry’s special liaison officer to Baldur von Schirach, the leader of the Hitler Youth. Rommel’s job was to introduce some military training to the boys. The son of a schoolteacher, he perhaps took his job a bit too seriously, and Schirach, 11 years younger and more Westernized, developed a dislik
e of him. A year or so later, Rommel was transferred to commanding the officer candidate school in Wiener Neustadt, Austria.
Saturday, February 5
Generalfeldmarschall Rommel spends the first part of his day catching up on paperwork. Good news from Supreme Headquarters: he has been granted permission to keep the newly formed 352nd Infantry Division in France, instead of letting it get carted off to Russia. Rommel will assign it to Marcks’ sector. In addition, he will petition OKW to let him move the division directly to the coastline, and not sit inland as a reserve unit.
Good news indeed, but there are so many other problems. The current lack of mines to lay weighs heavily on his mind. So he takes some time to travel upriver to Paris and call on General Blumentritt, von Rundstedt’s chief of staff. Rommel talks to him about the mine shortage. The OB West chief promises to bring the subject up to his superior when he returns from leave.
Rommel returns to his headquarters and begins another report. He writes that the work along the beaches has progressed and the coast is beginning to take on the semblance of a defensive line.
Obstacles of many different shapes and sizes are beginning to go up everywhere along the waterline. They are of course, positioned to snag landing craft at various stages between high tide and half tide, although his scheme will eventually cover low-tide landings as well.
His master defense plan details a series of four underwater obstacle belts. The first set will be optimally effective in two meters of water during high tide. On the other hand, it will also be the most exposed at low tide. The second obstacle belt will work best in four meters of water and around half tide. The other two belts will work optimally in a low-tide period—one in four meters of water, and the other one in two.