The inspection group finally leaves the headquarters. Tired from the long trip and dreary weather, and eager to return home, they walk towards the awaiting vehicles. Naturally, they will have to drop General Blumentritt off in Paris on the way back. Rommel though is himself in no hurry and wants to relax and enjoy the return trip. So he nonchalantly tells the rest of his entourage to directly return to Fontainebleau ahead of him, and asks Blumentritt to ride with him. The two of them pile into Rommel’s Horch, which now carries high-grade petrol, and begin a nice leisurely trip home, the field marshal as usual sitting up front.
On the way back, they have a long, interesting talk. Rommel is happy to have an avid listener, and the OB West chief of staff is in turn fascinated with Rommel’s schemes for beefing up the coast, especially the highly technical engineering tasks. Rommel, flattered by the interest, admits that engineering had been his favorite subject at the War Academy.
Their subjects vary, and inevitably, Rommel ends up regaling him with some recollections of North Africa. He tells Blumentritt that, as close as they came to the Suez Canal, they finally lost their campaign because their supply lines became just too long, and with Malta still in enemy hands, their stocks could not keep up.
His supplies, he explains, were adequate at first, “but just barely. The problem was that as we pushed the British back to the Egyptian border, their supply points on the Suez Canal became much closer. In the meantime, our lines following the communications lines became so long that keeping up was just impossible. And our losses kept mounting.”
“Especially panzers,” Blumentritt replies.
“Precisely. It got to where I only had about 80 Jägers that were operational. We had very few panzers left. Fuel was desperately low, and ammo was so low that some of the units could only fire a few rounds in a defensive withdrawal.”
“Our supplies were being destroyed at sea by the RAF and the British fleet, since we had lost air and sea control. You wouldn’t believe how many of our ships were sunk trying to get through to us—ships carrying munitions and fuel...” “And replacements? What did the High Command do about that?”
“What could they do?” Rommel replies. “I had told the Führer about these problems a number of times earlier in the year, but what supply forces we had were inadequate, and additional air units were committed in Russia. Those that we had were being whittled down by the enemy. Those that made it through could no longer land close to us, because we had advanced into Egypt.”
“You had advanced that far?”
“Yes,” Rommel replies, his eyes blazing. “There we were one day on the heels of the British, while everyone was cheering us on. The next, we were fighting them off, just trying to survive, screaming for supplies while everyone in Berlin kept dumbly rooting us on.”
Of course, not being able to freely command your own troops did not help either. Jodl had frequently put in his few pfennigs’ worth of advice. And the command organization had been so screwed up, that just about anybody at Supreme Headquarters had a say in what he did.
“Kesselring gave us directives,” he said, ticking off the factors on one of his gloved hand, “because he was Commander-in-Chief, Italy. Göring could dictate commands to us too—at least, when he wasn’t drugged out. Mussolini sometimes wanted to butt in, that incompetent clod—even his worthless Commando Supremo in Rome wanted to give us orders from time to time!”
Rommel looks back at Blumentritt and asks, “How on earth was I supposed to lead my troops into battle, when so many commanders and authorities could intervene?” They did it frequently too, and often at the most unexpected times. “You know, Blumentritt, it’s a wonder we were effective at all.”
They both agree that the present command structure in France is not much different. Right now, with von Rundstedt on leave, Feldmarschall Sperrle is the ranking authority, and OB West is at his disposal. How strange; a Luftwaffe general in charge of the ground forces! Just like Kesselring in Italy… Of course, Sperrle would have little control of the Navy or the SS, and was subject to operational directives from the Führer or OKW, administrative issues of OKH, guidance from Göring, and so on.
Rommel changes the subject and goes back to North Africa. He recalls his ordeal at El Alamein that crucial early November of 1942. He had decided to take matters in hand. “I flew up to see the Führer,” he recalls, “and to tell him in person what was what.”
He recalls that day when he had flown from North Africa to make a personal appeal on behalf of his army to be able to fall back. He tells Blumentritt how Keitel and Jodl had met him at the airport, and how coldly they had treated him on the trip back to Supreme Headquarters. He politely glosses over his stormy meeting with the Führer, tactfully stating instead that they had discussed the military situation. He makes sure to criticize the OKW staff though.
However, he then recounts how Hitler had berated him, and had later come out and apologized for his anger. When he and Hitler had at last sat down to tea, the Führer had sympathized with his situation.
Rommel notes with contempt that the OKW staff had then changed their attitudes as well, from hostility to cordiality, abruptly changing their moods like chameleons to their surroundings.
“Sie sind Arschküsse,” he finishes. “They’re ass-kissers.”
After telling the story, Rommel pauses and then declares, “Well, that’s in the past. Now I have new problems to face.” They discuss in detail the problems they have identified. Rommel goes over his pet theory of hitting the enemy at the waterline.
Blumentritt feels his loyalty to his own commanding officer and honorably defends von Rundstedt’s position of waiting and striking the enemy is further inland.
“Generalfeldmarschall von Rundstedt also assumes that the Allies will employ heavy air power when the invasion comes,” he says. “And like you sir, he feels that they will use some sort of saturation bombing of the landing area. That’s another reason that he wants to keep the panzers inland. Because, even if we did have a sufficient number of panzers right there among the coastal fortifications, he feels that the concentrated fire from the intense air bombing patterns and from their heavy ships offshore would hem in the panzers and prevent them from being able to maneuver. And if the panzers can’t maneuver…”
“Leichtes Ziel,” Rommel finishes. Sitting ducks; classic blitzkrieg theory.
Blumentritt mentions Italy. He notes that there were several instances where the panzers were put into the line and converted, so to speak, into static pillboxes. Ordered not to maneuver, they were picked off one by one. Just like the French tanks had been back in 1940.
Rommel counters that at Salerno there were also some fortifications along the shore, and with them, they had almost thrown the enemy back into the sea. All they had needed were a few more units—and time.
Blumentritt points out that von Rundstedt still feels that the panzers would be safer inland, and still be able to react to an invasion.
“Yes, well, he wasn’t in North Africa like I was,” Rommel says grimly. “While I was there, I learned the RAF’s modus operandi. No doubt they will employ it when they invade. And when they do, our panzers, no matter where they are, will not be able to move by day or by night without incurring attacks by air.”
“The only problem, ” Blumentritt says, “is that if we put our panzers all near the coast, we will have to correctly guess where the enemy is going to land. If we don’t, almost all of them will be in the wrong place, and many hundreds of kilometers away from where the fighting is. And they will then have even more of a difficult time moving to the landing area.”
He continues, “That’s why Feldmarschall von Rundstedt wants a large panzer reserve, so that they can cover a larger area of coast without exposing themselves to the enemy air and sea power.”
Rommel looks at his companion and says, “Well, if I do live through this, I’d like to sit around my house for a few years and start a few fruit and vegetable gardens.”
Blumentr
itt nods with a smile. “Von Rundstedt loves gardens, too. He goes berserk if he sees one that has not been tended to.”
Rommel smiles. “Wouldn’t that be great? You know, grow tomatoes the size of soccer balls!”
“And carrots the size of cannon!” They both laugh heartily.
They go on talking happily about gardens. Rommel tells about his new garden at Herrlingen and about his plans to expand the garden areas.
After a moment of silence, Rommel sighs wistfully. “Well, I just hope that the Allies give me enough time to build up. Up to, oh, the end of May.” He stares off into the moving countryside, gazing out into the late afternoon overcast haze, listening to the rain on the car’s roof. “Then they can come,” he says.
The time goes by, and they suddenly realize that they are in the outskirts of Paris, late in the evening. Rommel drops Blumentritt off at the Hôtel Georges V in Paris, where von Rundstedt is expected to return tomorrow. He then proceeds through the French capital and on down to his headquarters at Fontainebleau.
After he arrives, he has a quick meeting with Gause. His chief of staff has been in contact with Warlimont at OKW, pressing him on the question of who is to command the mobile units, and where they are to be positioned. Warlimont on the 18th had told him that “OKW does not desire their movement from the present areas.” A couple days later, Warlimont has responded to the question, and in official language, given OKW’s position. Basically, it states that while Rommel should have more say in commanding the panzers, most areas of disagreement should be ironed out between Gause and Blumentritt themselves. Warlimont has done a nice job of keeping OKW on the fence, and Rommel is back to square one on this issue. Great.
Sighing, he drafts a personal letter to his subordinate commands: Seventh Army, Fifteenth Army, and the Netherlands Command. He congratulates them on their efforts so far, and exhorts them to continue as much as possible, using every resource they can—he greatly emphasizes that point—to lay whole fields of mines and set mass numbers of offshore obstacles.
He wants them to be ready.
***
Tonight, in response to the RAF air raid over Leipzig, another Steinbock air raid is launched with 165 aircraft. Navigational difficulties limit the damage done over England, and another nine bombers are lost.
1On the upper coast of the Brittany peninsula, about 38km northeast of Brest.
2The 353rd included small units from the 137th, 328th, 371st, 306th, and 389th Divisions, all of which had been decimated in Russia and withdrawn to reform. The 353rd would eventually include over 1,700 Russian (Öst) troops.
3Fifty-one-year-old Generalmajor Paul Mahlmann, who assumed command November 20, 1943 at the division’s inception. An infantry officer in World War I, he rose through the ranks in the postwar years, later taking an active part in the campaigns in France and in Russia.
4Infantry Attacks. Published in 1937 as a military textbook that reflected Rommel’s experiences in World War I, it received wide acclaim and has since become a classic primer on military tactics.
Monday, February 21
Generalfeldmarschall von Rundstedt finally returns to his command at the Hôtel Georges V in Paris after his four-week holiday.1 His headquarters naturally welcomes him back. He eventually retires to his Hotel room and sits down with his chief of staff, who proceeds to update him on what’s been happening in his absence. The highlight of Blumentritt’s briefing is telling him all about his latest tour with Rommel.
***
Rommel meanwhile is back at Fontainebleau, fresh from a long night’s rest.
This morning, he and his staff go over their plans for further tours along the coast.
The commander-in-chief of the Netherlands forces, Luftwaffe General der Flieger Friedrich Christiansen, is informed through his own chief of staff, Generalleutnant Heinz Helmuth von Wühlisch, that he can expect the field marshal sometime early in the next month, and that he will be inspecting the progress that has been made so far on the offshore obstacle construction.
Von Wühlisch replies in casual tones that the inspection is really not necessary at this time. The installation of their obstacles is still “in the experimental stage.” He adds that the main thing they have found so far was that only stake-type obstacles are suitable for the water.
Rommel is upset at hearing this. Two months nearly wasted on inactivity! To make matters worse, his headquarters finds out today that the order Christiansen was told to give on making ports unserviceable in the event of imminent capture has not yet been issued.
It is true that the Netherlands command is not technically a part of Heeresgruppe B. Now evidently, it seems that they do not want to adopt Rommel’s spirit of determination either. Frustrated, he grudgingly tells his staff to change his itinerary and to postpone the Netherlands tour until later in the month. In the meantime, he says sternly, he wants Vizeadmiral Ruge to make his own tour up there later this week and to emphasize to them in strong terms that Rommel’s directives are to be carried out completely and immediately.
On top of all his command frustrations, Rommel is having some personal trouble. The older of his two dachshunds, Ajax, is becoming a real problem. He terrorizes the younger Elbo incessantly. Ajax also has a decided dislike of sabers and for some reason, staff cars, barking loudly whenever he is around either.
He does enjoy shoes though, and has developed an embarrassing habit of chewing on the footgear of whoever happens to be around the field marshal. The dog prefers in particular the shiny leather boots of officers, including visitors.
One of his favorite marks has become Rommel’s hapless chief of staff, and it has become clear that Ajax over time has started to wear on the man’s nerves. Almost regularly now when Gause is in Rommel’s presence, his boots fall prey to the mutt’s friendly assault, although the dog will take to task any other human target of opportunity as well. So if someone else walks into the field marshal’s study (and Gause is not around), Ajax immediately shifts his attention to their shoes.
Today is no different. When Rommel begins discussing business with a visiting officer in his study, Ajax, lying on the floor under a sofa, quietly eyes the man’s boots. The animal’s excitement increases, and slowly its willpower drains away.
Rommel spots Ajax going into a crouch, getting ready to move in on his target. Fuming, the field marshal stands up and walks around his desk. Before the dachshund can make its move, Rommel roughly grabs it by its head and tail, drags it over to the doorway, opens the door, and throws the dog bodily out. As he does so, he turns to the visiting officer and grumbles, “This is the only one who won’t obey my orders.”
It has clearly not been a good day.
1See footnote for December 22.
Tuesday, February 22
Von Rundstedt, just returned from a relaxing stay at the spas in Bad Tölz, spends his first day back catching up on paperwork at the Hôtel Georges V in Paris. That evening, he decides to go out for dinner. He usually dines in elegance, sometimes just enjoying the finer dishes of his Hôtel, and sometimes going out to a fancy restaurant. His favorite place to go to though, is the renowned Maxim’s restaurant on the Champs-Elysées.1 He has become friends with the winemaker there, Henri, who serves him an excellent St. Emilion bordeaux. Most of his officers though, prefer a Pommard ’39, 2 which always puzzles him.
“I cannot understand,” he sometimes comments wonderingly. “Why do they drink Pommard after a meal, instead of brandy with their coffee?”
To him, it is a matter of strange taste.
***
It is now Rommel’s turn to take time off. He departs Fontainebleau for ten days’ leave and is driven to the airport. He climbs into his own specially outfitted twin-engine green and yellow Heinkel 111 and, along with its two ME-109 escorts, they take off. Rommel watches the sun through the window, shimmering beautifully over the plane’s wings as they fly above the clouds. The converted bomber makes its way southeast, towards Ulm. He normally would travel to Germany by
car, since wartime gas rationing is critical at this time, and the enemy controls the skies. The Führer has instructed officers for safety reasons to not fly unless it is an emergency. But high rank does allow some privileges, and right now he wants to get home as quickly as he can to spend some time at his new home in Herrlingen. His recent, charged efforts of the last few weeks have both physically and emotionally drained him.
On this trip, Rommel has finally decided to take Ajax home with him. Now a terror at headquarters, barking noisily at strangers, he will make a good house-dog. Besides, the younger brown-and-black Elbo, as he will later explain to Lucie, is “really too funny, but not yet quite house-trained.” Anyway, he knows that she will love Ajax. He will make a good companion.
The plane lands and a waiting car takes him to his new home. When the field marshal walks in with frisky little Ajax, Lucy greets him, and they exchange warm greetings. He then turns to embrace his tall, gangly son Manfred, standing awkwardly near the door, wearing horn-rimmed glasses, a flustered smile on the lad’s face. Rommel shakes his head wonderingly as he beams at Manfred. He is constantly being amazed by his growing son. His adjutant Aldinger is there too, smiling, humbly quiet, giving the family its greeting space as he unobtrusively begins unloading the field marshal’s luggage.
Inside, Rommel finds the Oberbürgermeister of Stuttgart, 54-year-old Dr. Karl Strölin and an assistant. Rommel suppresses a groan. Not only will he have to entertain, but he will have to talk politics as well. Lucie goes through the formality of properly introducing them, although Strölin is certainly not a stranger to them. The Rommels had met him when they first moved to Herrlingen, and the mayor has visited the house several times since then. Anyway, Strölin had briefly served in Rommel’s unit in World War I. Lucie is enthusiastic in her introduction. The field marshal though, is worn out from the job and the trip, and right now he just wants to relax. He is not up to company.
Countdown to D-Day Page 27
