Countdown to D-Day

by Peter Margaritis

  There are countless greetings and introductions, and the rest of the afternoon is wasted as the high-ranking generals and admirals continue to arrive. Most of the socializing is done in the expansive great salon, Hitler’s greatest pride. It is a roomy, 18-meter-long lounging area, complete with a thick red carpet and a generous, red marbled fireplace. At one end is a large globe of the world, around which several individuals stand.

  Best of all, the huge salon boasts an immense picture window. It can be lowered electrically, but this is done only on fair days. Unfortunately, years ago, Hitler inadvertently had his auto garage built just below. Thus, whenever the window is lowered, the smell of acrid exhaust and petrol fumes wafts up into the great room.

  The panorama though, is spectacular. Down the mountain is Berchtesgaden, its population expanded by the Führer’s entourage and visitors. The city of Salzburg can be seen in off the distance, including the large railway station.

  There is also a magnificent view of the Untersberg mountain, where the legendary Emperor Charlemagne has slept for a thousand years, accompanied by some 5,000 of his best men. Supposedly, this ghostly army waits to emerge from the mountain and save Germany at a critical time, restoring her worldly power. The Führer at times has pointed the peak out, adding with pride, “It’s no accident that I have my residence opposite it.”

  In front of the viewing window is a large, circular, glass-topped dining table. Around it is a beautiful Gobelin tapestry that shows a hunting scene, probably French in origin. Rommel knows from experience that the Führer has his late-morning brunch at this table, surrounded by his regulars, and his guests.

  The afternoon stretches on. Some of the conversation is inevitably about the new construction projects around the Berghof. Bormann is clearly overdoing it, in some opinions ruining the landscape. The mountainside has become a huge complex of buildings as countless additional workers, assistants, and supply trucks come into and out of the area. Substantial additional anti-aircraft protection and security have been added to the complex. More chambers have been tunneled in the mountain to make room for aides, security, and the many visitors that come up to see the Führer. Nearby, special quarters have been built for Bormann and Göring. Armaments Minister Albert Speer resides in another smaller villa, away from the main compound.1 Yes, this is now truly the government’s home away from home.

  All of the major western commanders are now present. Rommel of course has traveled east with his superior, “Der Rundstedt” as Rommel sometimes calls him, now standing out in his gray uniform and polished black boots, his field marshal’s baton in hand. Admiral Krancke is in his dark naval uniform. There is overweight Luftwaffe Feldmarschall Hugo Sperrle. Pompous Geyr von Schweppenburg is present and of course, Rommel’s own army commanders, Dollmann and von Salmuth. The senior officers of the OKW are there too, including Keitel, Jodl, and Warlimont.

  Several times during the socializing period, Rommel gets to study the Führer. He entertains his guests, walking about in a conspicuously simple military uniform, beaming, listening, commenting occasionally. Seeing him close, those who know him well can tell the difference that the last few years have made. The stress of a world war seems to have aged him tremendously. His skin is pale, and his frame seems fragile. He is graying, and there are new lines in his tired face. But his cool, blue-gray eyes still have their fire, despite the red rings surrounding them.

  He seems to favor his left arm, and a shrewd, discreet observer might occasionally see it tremble slightly, although of course, it is impolite—even perilous—to openly stare. Rumor has it that his personal physician has him on a number of questionable drugs. Of course, no one else really knows what Morrell gives him, but the Führer has on several occasions been given an injection for this or for that. Many feel that Morrell seems a little too generous with his needles. Someone had once contemptuously referred to him as the “Reich Injection Master.” All those strange shots—Rommel only wonders.

  Now the Führer is politely laughing at someone’s amusing story. Being around him frequently for the last five years, Rommel has learned that he almost never tells anecdotes; not that he is humorless—not at all. It is just that he often does not follow complicated jokes and misses a punch line. So he usually leaves humor to others around him, and just smiles politely through the story, even if he does not understand the gag. On the other hand, a practical joke or good slapstick at the misfortune of another can make him laugh to tears. And while he refrains from telling jokes, ridicule is certainly something he frequently indulges or participates in.

  Always near him hovers short, dark Bormann, ready to update him, comment on someone, or ask his approval for some detail. A shrewd manipulator, he is suspicious and distrustful of anyone who might be getting close to the Führer. Bormann had even eyed Rommel himself a number of times last summer, when the field marshal had been attachéd to the supreme headquarters staff after the fall of Tunisia.

  That though, was not surprising. Bormann at times behaved like a thug, and because of his character traits, Bormann is not popular with other members of the Führer’s inner circle. Speer privately has referred to him as, “The man with the hedge clippers,” because Bormann always seems to ensure that no one ever rises above a certain level in popularity.

  Finally, late in the afternoon, the program officially begins. It opens with a small ceremony. All the officers gather with Hitler in the great salon, along with the staff of OKW There is the Führer’s yes-man, Keitel—Der Chef. Beside him stands hawk-nosed Alfred Jodl, alert and unsmiling. Next to them stands the dashing, young, ambitious Walther Warlimont, smiling, looking confident.

  The field marshals form a line and stand at attention, and the room goes quiet as von Rundstedt takes the floor. Clearing his throat, the old Prussian begins reading an oath of loyalty to the Führer. Rommel recognizes it as the one Schmundt had brought for him to sign a few weeks ago over the Seydlitz affair.2

  The voice of the old Prussian wavers only slightly as he eloquently reads the flowery pledge in the presence of an attentive audience. The Führer listens impassively, his hands folded in front of him.

  The field marshal finishes and ceremoniously hands the oath document, signed by all of the army field marshals, over to the Führer, who accepts it graciously. There follows long, tumultuous applause, and then a few words of thanks from him.

  There are a number of toasts after that, and the official portion of the day thus ends.

  The entire group, now joined by some women and the civil leaders, are slowly guided into the main dining room. There they are treated to a spectacular, lavish dinner, guests of Reichsführer Himmler and the SS. One can only imagine the thoughts and misgivings that go through the minds of the army generals about this SS leader as they sit through the meal. Still, the entertainment is quite elegant.

  After the dinner, everyone socializes for a bit. Von Rundstedt makes an early evening of it, and Rommel is not far behind him. He and von Tempelhoff put on their coats to leave for the trip down the mountain again, and back to their hotel rooms for the night.

  Rommel turns to the operations officer and mutters, “Nice, but a waste of time.”

  1The Bechstein House.

  2Because of his activities against the Nazi regime while in captivity in Russia, von Seydlitz-Kurzbach understandably became hated by most of his fellow generals (including many who were actually imprisoned with him). Even after the war, most of them considered him a traitor, despite the terrible Nazi deeds that soon came to light. It was certainly no surprise to anyone that Hitler gave him a death sentence in absentia. Still, von Seydlitz was considered by many others to not be a traitor.

  Towards the end of the war, he showed no love for the Soviet Union and refused to be a part of their establishing a communist structure whenever the Soviets occupied Germany; he was appalled over the idea of East Prussia being ceded to the Soviet Union. Anyway, the July 1944 assassination attempt convinced the Russians that they did not need his servic
es. So they imprisoned him and eventually sentenced him to death as well. His sentence though was later modified to life in prison, and in October 1955, he was returned to West Germany. Nine months later, his death sentence was reversed. Ultimately, his actions and the German response to them brought on severe sessions of depression, and he died in April 28, 1976, Bremen, a sad and in his mind, misunderstood 88-year-old man.

  Monday, March 20

  It is the second day of the military conference for the Western Command. After a leisurely early morning of coffee and pastries, more sightseeing, shopping, and general idleness, the senior commanders are driven back up the Obersalzberg to the Berghof.

  There is an elaborate late-morning brunch in the great salon, as is the Führer’s custom. Then everyone is packed into limousines that set off down the slope for Klessheim Castle just outside Salzburg, some half-dozen kilometers away. It is here that the actual war conference will take place.

  While it is not far, the snow and the wet road conditions (especially down the slope) cause the trip to last nearly an hour. Hitler finally arrives around 3 p.m., the snow swirling around him as he gets out of his limo and walks up the elaborate steps.

  Standing up before the assembly sitting on wooden chairs before him in the castle’s huge hall, Hitler begins an oration that goes on for nearly an hour. In a clear voice, he talks about the future of the Reich. Initially his tone is upbeat, designed to give his generals and admirals renewed hope. Fighter production is up, and he boasts of the progress that has been made in the production of the new jets under Albert Speer’s direction. The almost-ready revenge V-rockets will soon wreak havoc upon London. The newer model U-boats currently being built will be able to stay underwater almost indefinitely. These silent killers, he states confidently, will soon reclaim the seas. The new panzers rolling off assembly lines—the panthers, the tigers, and all their Jagd- variations—will smash the Allies’ attacks.

  Then changing subjects, he cautions them to beware of enemy airborne strikes behind their lines. On this note, he brings up the upcoming enemy invasion of Europe. Rommel and von Rundstedt are especially attentive here.

  To the surprise of many, the Führer states that he believes the invasion will fall upon the Normandy and Brittany peninsulas, and not at Calais.

  “Obviously, an Anglo-American invasion in the West is going to come,” he declares in a clear voice. “Just how and where nobody knows, and it isn’t possible to speculate.”

  He stares at them all. “You can’t take shipping concentrations at their face value for some kind of clue that their choice has fallen on any particular sector of our long Western Front, from Norway down to the Bay of Biscay... Such concentrations can always be moved or transferred at any time, under cover of bad visibility, and they will obviously be used to dupe us.”

  He looks dramatically at his audience and declares, “The most suitable landing areas, and hence those that are in most danger, are the two west-coast peninsulas of Cherbourg and Brest. They offer very tempting possibilities for the creation of bridgeheads, which could thereafter be systematically enlarged by the massive use of air power.”

  He pauses for effect before continuing. “The enemy’s entire invasion operation must not, under any circumstances, be allowed to survive longer than hours, or at most, days; that’s taking Dieppe as a direct example.” Exactly, thinks Rommel. The Führer has just stated the very axiom that he himself has been preaching to his men again and again.

  Hitler scans his officers. A defeat in the West, he states, would throw the enemy back many months and discourage them, “Once defeated, the enemy will never again try to invade.” An ambitious and seemingly dubious statement to say the least, given the present stage of the war, and many generals no doubt disagree.

  “Quite apart from their heavy losses, they would need months to organize a fresh attempt. And an invasion failure would also deliver a crushing blow to British and American morale,” Hitler declares. “For one thing, it would prevent Roosevelt from being reelected in America… With any luck, he’d finish up in jail somewhere!” The audience laughs.

  “For another, war weariness would grip Britain even faster, and Churchill, already a sick old man with his influence waning, won’t be able to carry through a new invasion operation.”

  He continues. “We can match the enemy’s opposing strength of about 50 to 60 divisions in the shortest period of time. So smashing the enemy’s landing attempt will mean not only a decisive final decision on the Western Front, but will also by itself be decisive, not just to end the war, but for the history of warfare itself!”

  The audience breaks out into applause.

  “The forty-five divisions that we now hold in Europe... are badly needed on the Eastern Front, and as soon as we have forced the decision in the West, we shall have to transfer them there immediately to reverse the situation.”

  The Führer seems calm and, alert. Now this is the Führer that had inspired them in earlier years. Moreover, his argument sounds logical. If they defeat the invasion, that will release 30 divisions to join in the struggle on the Eastern Front. An influx of some thirty fresh divisions, including two panzer corps, in at one or two strategic points, could very well turn the tide in the East.

  He goes on. “So the whole outcome of the war depends on every man fighting in the West, and that means the fate of the Reich as well! Each officer and man must therefore be made to feel that everything depends on his individual effort.”

  His speech has ended, and as the generals applaud, several sets of eyes glance over at Rommel. He will no doubt be commanding the repulsing forces. So it will ultimately be up to him to secure victory. Again massive applause thunders through the hall. Von Rundstedt claps lightly, politely, stone-faced and sullen. That is all right. Rommel resolves that he will not let the Reich down. Like in North Africa, he will once again pull a rabbit out of his hat. He will defeat the invasion, so that they can push the Russians back and hold them off indefinitely. Peace will be inevitable.

  A smaller conference then begins, with each of the generals allowed to give their views. When it is Rommel’s turn, he is ready. His theme is that the invasion should be immediately crushed on the beaches. The Führer responds by praising him, partly for all the work that he had done so far, and partly because of the confidence that Rommel is exuding. Obviously, he is over his “African sickness.” Besides, Rommel is echoing what Hitler has advocated for a while now, as far back as his Directive No. 40 of March 1942. In it, he had said that the objective of the defense was, “the collapse of the enemy attack before, if possible, but at the latest upon the actual landing.” His Directive No. 51 of November 1943 merely echoed this theme in a more pressing way. Unfortunately, neither directive had addressed the problem of who would direct the battle on site. Now it seemed obvious who that would be.

  Throughout most of the conference, lackluster von Rundstedt is laid-back, kept in the background, sulking all the more as the briefings progress. This is his command that they are talking about, and clearly, his opinion does not seem that important to Hitler. Rommel on the other hand, sensing that things are going his way, uses the spotlight to press his advantage. He requests that Hitler turn over to him command of the reserve panzers. Von Rundstedt seethes at this.

  Attention then turns to the south of France. Because of the prodigious work that Rommel has done on the Atlantic Wall thus far, Hitler in the middle of the briefing asks him to help out with the First and Nineteenth Armies down there. The field marshal is to inspect their defenses too, along the Bay of Biscay and the Mediterranean respectively.

  At this point, von Rundstedt explodes. He has been a minor participant in the conference until now. Addressing the Führer directly, he barks that it is pointless for him to remain in France as OB West, when Rommel’s authority is constantly and infuriatingly being extended.

  After the meeting, tea is served. Hitler decides to meet with his two field marshals. Angry, von Rundstedt makes a point of not atte
nding. Hitler sends his stenographer out to fetch the crusty old Prussian anyway.

  A short time later, respectfully summoned, von Rundstedt arrives at the door to the conference room and goes in brooding for his private chat. He fiercely emerges in just five minutes, stomping away with a grimace on his face. Grabbing his coat angrily, he starts down the castle stairs, heading back to the special train that will take him back to France. “What’s the point?” he says to no one as he stalks out. “The Führer wouldn’t let me open my mouth… So I walked out on him.”

  Rommel, amazed at the old man’s actions, then gets his private audience. Because of his upbeat vigor and his recent activities, he gets better treatment, and his meeting lasts a half-hour.1 Going out on a limb, he brazenly tells Hitler and Jodl that he’s sure that he will turn back the invasion. He points out that by the end of April, the entire coastline will be intertwined with enough mines and obstacles to cause heavy losses to any force attempting to land. He concludes that, “In my view, the enemy’s not going to succeed in setting foot on dry ground in these sectors.”

  He continues. He tactfully suggests that, for the best chances of defeating the invasion swiftly and to maximize coordination, all three branches of service in his area should be put under one unified command—preferably his.

  He pauses, then goes on. Since the Führer has requested him to inspect the coastal positions of the First and Nineteenth Armies in southern France, Rommel now suggests that he could do this much more effectively if he were to be given a larger measure of control (but not total) over the First and Nineteenth Armies in the south. Hitler sympathetically tells him that he understands, that his request sounds logical, and he might grant it in principle. He also promises to seriously consider the issue of command unification.

  Not giving up, Rommel then renews his request to get command of the reserve panzers. If he can just manage to get their control and station them where they would do the most good (which in his mind, is near the coast), his chances for success will increase dramatically.