Countdown to D-Day

by Peter Margaritis

  Upset that this dictum had been challenged, Hitler personally ordered the statue removed. He realized, however, that an open confrontation with the mayor would look bad in the public eye. So working behind the mayor’s back, Nazi officials had waited for him to leave town one day, before taking the sculpture down from its place in front of the concert hall. When Goerdeler had returned and found out that it had been removed against his express orders and in his absence, he had raged against the Führer. In protest, he had resigned as mayor. He had been fighting the Nazis secretly ever since then.

  3The “Black Band,” or “Black Orchestra.” See footnote for February 22.

  4Several authors have written that Rommel was already in on the plot in the spring of 1944. On the one hand, the weight of testimonial evidence from Rommel’s memoirs and his family’s postwar recollections points out that this simply is not true, no matter what Rommel felt about the war’s outcome. Controversial historian David Irving strongly denies Rommel’s involvement at that point in time. One cannot know for sure because all involved are now deceased, and before and after the attempt on July 20, Rommel almost certainly would have destroyed any incriminating evidence of his complicity in any possible coup.

  Fred Majdalany for example, wrote that Speidel “represented Rommel” at that meeting of April 14, where he was given “(for onward transmission to Rommel) an up-to-the-minute breakdown of the plot.” If this is the case, he represented an uncommitted field marshal. It has been confirmed by a number of sources that Dr. Strölin at that meeting did confer with Speidel on how to win Rommel over to their side, and it was for this reason that the updated status of the plot was discussed.

  And yet, at least one other source (Brown) also describes a meeting between Rommel and Speidel at a lodge a month before he reported aboard. The meeting supposedly took place in the Marly Forest, surrounded by a cordon of panzergrenadiers from the famed (albeit resurrected) 21st Panzer Davison. At that meeting, supposedly attended also by General von Stülpnagel, General von Falkenhausen, General Lüttwitz, and General Schwerin, several ideas were supposedly discussed to make peace with the West and arrest the Nazi leaders, putting perhaps General Beck in charge. Again, this meeting was very unlikely, as Speidel was still in Russia, and the meticulous postwar entries of Admiral Ruge make no mention at all of the encounter at that time, though Rommel was indeed in the area.

  Saturday, April 15

  The Luftwaffe reports today at La Roche-Guyon are analyzed in detail. Enemy air activity has increased quite a bit in the last few weeks. An army coastal battery near Nieuwpoort1 has been damaged, two of its four 155-mm guns knocked out. Other air raids further down the coast have targeted a number of radar installations, the port of Le Havre, and yet another coastal battery near Dieppe. Fortunately, damage was minor.

  Other messages detail the progress of defense construction. Sizable numbers of enemy mines have been laid in various areas off Le Havre, north of Walcheren Island, and close to the Scheldt River, near Zeebrügge. Did this mean that the enemy was going to land near the Somme estuary? Possibly.

  At the field marshal’s bidding, his headquarters staff has requested that naval enlisted personnel be used to help move construction material along the coast of Brittany. And there is still no decision on where the concrete needed for several naval battery emplacements will come from, shortages being what they currently are.

  ***

  Late that evening, a modest rain begins to fall over Rommel’s château. Cold sentries shiver miserably as they stand glumly at their posts. Their soaked, camouflaged capes are wrapped tightly around them as they watch the rain come down. Bored machine gunners in their pillboxes occasionally sip a terrible concoction known as ersatz coffee and miserably watch the rain come down. Anti-aircraft crews have received permission to stand down.

  A lone army car enters the wrought-iron gates and pulls up to the main entrance on the side of the villa. The right rear door opens, and a single, unknown figure emerges. As he stands up, light raindrops softly strike his immaculate raincoat and hat. The nearby sentries note the red stripe down the side of his trousers, signifying an army general.

  Staff members come out to welcome him, grab his bags, and escort him inside. His luggage and raincoat are taken, and he is told that the field marshal is in, having just returned yesterday from a number of inspections along the coast. The newcomer’s arrival is announced, and he is shown the way to Rommel’s study. Calmly, the man walks in, comes to attention, and formally reports for duty.

  The field marshal stands up and warmly greets the visitor with a tired smile, measuring him up. At 46 years old, he is of medium height with a squarish build, but not overweight. With his hat off, his tawny hair is still damp from the trip. He wears thin-framed spectacles on a lightly freckled, owlish face with a grave expression...

  He is Generalleutnant Hans Speidel: Rommel’s new chief of staff.

  This man is an old acquaintance as well, a fellow Swabian. While not an aristocrat, he is certainly a stately, intelligent, well-educated man. Fluid in several languages, he holds a doctorate from Tübengen University. He is highly intelligent, decorous, cultured in the finer arts and advanced contemporary literary works, and an excellent equestrian. Another good reason why Rommel picked him as his next Chef.

  Rommel asks him about his trip, and then as an opening gambit, chuckles that here they are again, back in France. Speidel is certainly no stranger to the country. He has fought here in both world wars, having once been the German military attaché in Paris. He was once chief of staff to the military governor of France, serving first under General Streccius, and then later Joachim von Stülpnagel, cousin to the more famous Karl-Heinrich. However, when the SS had taken over the judicial side of the military affairs in 1942, he had disgustedly transferred to the Eastern Front. Now he was back.

  As they talk, the field marshal glances at the shiny Knight’s Cross below Speidel’s neck, just recently presented to him by the Führer himself for his part in the besieged Eighth Army’s recent courageous retreat from Cherkassy.

  As the two men relax in each other’s presence, the dialogue eases up. At a certain point, the conversation shifts gears from high German to Swabian, that southern German dialect with which they had both been raised. Speidel tells him about his briefing at OKW, and that he has no specific instructions. “I am to assume the duties of chief of staff for you.”

  Rommel queries this: no instructions regarding policy? Speidel replies, “I was told that none were needed. Basically, if the enemy lands, we must just drive them back into the sea.” Nothing more. Of course, they have yet to do that to the Western Allies. Still, they did give them a good deal of difficulty at Salerno, and the Anzio beachhead has been contained for nearly three months now.

  “Those were the only instructions you were given?”

  “Jawohl, Herr Feldmarschall.”

  They briefly talk over old times. They had met in the Argonne Forest during World War I, and later, between wars, their paths had crossed in the 13 th Württemberg Infantry Regiment. Rommel remembers Speidel as a rather quiet but sophisticated fellow, very intelligent. And like Rommel, his father had also been a teacher. Now the field marshal finds himself warming up to the man. Yes, they will get along quite well.

  Speidel, despite what he had promised Jodl at Berchtesgaden, and more along the lines of the conspirators’ plans, does not go out of his way to give Rommel inspiration. On the contrary. He does not hold back the Eastern Front news, knowing that it will probably depress the field marshal. He wants to gain Rommel’s trust by doing well in his new position, so always appearing to be honest and open with him is critical. He must at the same time weaken Rommel’s hopes of winning the war if he is to have any hope at all of bringing him over to the side of the government conspirators.

  Depressing him is easy to do. Rommel is starved for news, and Speidel willingly gives it to him. He fills him in on the latest situation on the Eastern Front, from which he has s
o recently come, including the latest updates from OKW. He tells him about the massive Soviet offensive last month; about the 1st Panzer Army entrapment; the setbacks in the center; the terrible winter conditions; the dismissal of von Kluge and the legendary von Manstein, a general Rommel holds in high esteem. In a depressed tone, Speidel goes into detail about his own harrowing experiences with the Eighth Army, how they had been encircled, and how they had to desperately fight their way out of the pocket.

  Speidel speaks frankly, painting the already-bleak picture even darker. Presenting Germany’s hopeless position in the war, he describes in detail how their eastern armies are losing hundreds of thousands of men and countless numbers of vehicles in the freezing cold, as so many veteran divisions are getting chewed up. He mentions the rumors of atrocities; the endless hordes of Russian units that arrive every week at the front from a seemingly endless source of manpower. He recalls the hours of pounding from the massive Russian artillery; the merciless savagery of the fighting; and the desolation everywhere from a scorched-earth policy carried out on both sides.

  Speidel relates briefly how the Crimea is now totally lost. The new Heeresgruppe Nordukraine on the Southern Front2 is in full retreat, while the weak Army Group Center (Heeresgruppe Mitte) is being forced back steadily. And of course, there is the next round coming up—the dreaded Russian summer offensive starts in a couple of months…

  The effect of the news upon the field marshal is immediate and considerable. Rommel shakes his head increasingly as Speidel goes on. By the time his new chief of staff is finished, Rommel’s good mood is gone.

  Looking at Speidel, Rommel shrugs his shoulders and says, “Well, I don’t think we have the slightest chance now of winning the war.”

  That evening, Rommel’s daily diary entry reflects his change in disposition and how upset he is at von Manstein’s dismissal. Will Rommel end up like him?

  What will later historians have to say about these retreats? And what will history say in passing its verdict on me? If I am successful here, then everybody else will claim all the glory—just as they are already claiming the credit for the defenses and the beach obstacles that I have erected. But if I fail here, then everybody will be after my blood.

  Speidel’s comments to the field marshal have obviously had considerable effect.

  1A small coastal town in the Western Flanders part of Belgium, about 10km down the coast (southwest) of Ostende.

  2Heeresgruppe Süd at the beginning of the month was renamed Heeresgruppe Nordukraine.

  Sunday, April 16

  After a welcoming breakfast with the staff at La Roche-Guyon, Generalleutnant Dr. Hans Speidel is given a full tour of the headquarters. His assigned quarters in the old Norman tower are excellent, and his office is to be just down the hall from the field marshal’s study. He has time for an amiable chat with his predecessor, Alfred Gause, before he is taken in for a series of briefings to bring him up to speed on the army group’s status.

  Generalfeldmarschall Rommel though, is not at all in a good mood. The effect of Speidel’s bad news about the East has carried over into today. He reads his morning reports with a feeling of depression.

  Vizeadmiral Ruge, Rommel’s naval advisor, is today returning from his two weeks’ leave at the minesweepers’ recreational home in Schwalbach, rested and fit. His assistant, Captain Peters, meets him at the Paris railway station that morning. Together they drive northwest down the Seine to the château. During the trip, after some pleasantries, Peters fills the admiral in on everything he has missed in the last two weeks, including General Speidel’s arrival. In other developments, Admiral Wurmbach has been reassigned, moving from commanding the naval forces in Denmark to those in the Skagerrak. Ruge shakes his head. Another step in the wrong direction. Admiral Krancke has sent them his latest naval assessment…

  When they arrive at the château around noontime, Ruge immediately reports in to the field marshal and finds him in a somber state of mind—cordial, but humorless. Rommel solemnly relays the grave situation on the Eastern Front. He tells him about von Manstein being dismissed on short notice, and that things in the East are just getting worse.

  Rommel pauses and then tells the admiral that, in his opinion, the military high command is now in a “confidence crisis.” He thinks that this grave problem will only be solved by instituting mutual trust between the many different commands, across the varied services, and especially with the Führer himself. That trust, he admits, is not present right now. Even those few verbal commitments that he had so gracefully made to Rommel about the panzers at the March conference have not been confirmed in writing, much less acted upon. And if the past is any indication of how well he keeps his promises…

  As the field marshal goes on about this, he again refers back to the critical problems in the East. The evacuation of the Crimea, he says quietly, has evidently turned into a rout.

  Rommel shifts gears and tells Ruge he can get the full story about the situation in the East later from him. He fills Ruge in about the new chief of staff. Rommel then suggests that Ruge go out and greet Speidel. So the admiral emerges from the field marshal’s study, finds Speidel, and gives him a hearty welcome-aboard. They talk for a bit.

  As the afternoon goes on, Rommel struggles to regain his sense of purpose and to shake off this new depression. He decides to embark on one of his “armed promenades” with General Meise and Ruge. The few pheasants and rabbits that they encounter (but do not bag) help to improve the field marshal’s spirits.

  The mood upswing though, only lasts until he returns to the château. There a new problem confronts him. General Christiansen, commanding all Wehrmacht units in Belgium and the Netherlands, reports that he has just received orders from the Kriegsmarine that Naval Training Detachment 24, working on the Atlantic Wall in his area, will be transferred to Germany, possibly so that they cannot be committed to battle if the invasion begins up there.1 More troops being taken away from the defensive effort; men that could have taken over duties in the secondary line of defenses, thereby freeing up more soldiers to man the coast. Rommel just shakes his head.

  Late that afternoon, La Roche-Guyon receives a visitor from Rommel’s past. Thirty-two-year-old Oberst! Freiherr Hans von Luck arrives at the château in his Mercedes.2 Rommel’s old subordinate is on his way to his new assignment: the Panzer Lehr Division, commanded by another old acquaintance of theirs from North Africa, Fritz Bayerlein.3 On the way to his new command, he has decided to pay his respects to the field marshal.

  Von Luck is shown in to see Generalleutnant Gause. “Good to see you again, safe and sound,” Gause says with a smile, as they shake hands. “I’m just initiating my successor, General Speidel.”

  They chat for a while in Gause’s office. Von Luck fills him in on what he has been doing. After the collapse in North Africa in 1943, he was given a break from combat. Allowed a few weeks of leave in Berlin, he had been assigned in August as instructor at a panzer reconnaissance school in Paris. There he enjoyed the Parisian atmosphere, where his health (and his love life) had improved. In March 1944, at the end of a brief seminar in Berlin, he had been told that he was being appointed as commander of the panzer regiment in the newly forming Panzer Lehr Division in Western France.

  Gause comments favorably on von Luck’s new assignment, “And congratulations on your posting to France, where we must recon on a landing, sooner or later.”

  After a bit, von Luck asks him if he might say hello to the field marshal.

  “By all means,” Gause replies easily. “Rommel is rather depressed right now, because his arguments about how a landing should be met are getting nowhere with Hitler. He’ll be pleased to see you. Take a little walk with him. It’ll distract him.” He prudently does not mention Russia.

  Rommel is indeed enjoyably surprised by this visit from an old comrade. As Gause shows von Luck in, the field marshal rises and heartily shakes his hand.

  “So good to see you again, Luck!” says Rommel, flashing hi
s famous smile.

  “Danke, Feldmarschall. You look well yourself.”

  Much better than he had last seen him, in fact. That had been in early March of 1943, when their now-legendary desert army had been surrounded by the British and the Americans. Rommel had been once more flying off to seek reinforcements from Hitler, although both of them had somehow known that he would not be coming back. Von Luck had gone into his tent to bid him farewell and to wish him, on behalf of Luck’s battalion, good fortune. Rommel, a tear rolling down his cheek, had pulled down a photograph of himself and autographed it. Von Luck had been moved. Now, the old fox looks himself again.

  “I’m glad that I can greet you here on the Western Front,” says Rommel, as they stroll over to his French doors. “We’ve got something coming up in the weeks ahead. See that the regiment you’re to take over is well motivated, and aware of the seriousness of the situation.”

  The colonel assures him that he will, and with that, they saunter outside into the château grounds. They talk at some length about the war. Rommel frowns. Knowing that he can trust the colonel implicitly, he confesses to von Luck that he does not think that they can win.

  Von Luck asks what is to be done, then.

  “I’m against any solution by force,” Rommel replies, shaking his head. “I must somehow convince Hitler that we can no longer win the war; at the most we can only put off the end. As soon as the opportunity arises, I’ll try to make it clear to him personally—in writing if necessary—that the war will be finally lost if the Allies succeed in setting up a second front here in the West.”