Krancke later reaffirms this theory in his estimate to OKW. To back up his claim, he explains that Allied air attacks against coastal batteries and radar installations are at present concentrated between Boulogne and Cherbourg, as are Allied minesweeping and minelaying operations. The enemy air formations have extensively bombed railroads and have interrupted traffic to the Channel coast, but not lines of communication to the Atlantic area. So, he concludes, the invasion when it comes will probably be further southwest, somewhere between Boulogne and Cherbourg, probably with the main effort against the Cotentin, the mouth of the Seine, or the mouth of the Somme.
***
Today, the last surviving remnants of the once-powerful 2nd SS Panzer Division Das Reich reach the southern French city of Toulouse by rail and begin disembarking. The division had been decimated in brutal fighting on the Eastern Front.5 That battlegroup, now called Kampfgruppe Weidinger after its commander, 6 had somehow managed to continue on with its missions.
Finally, on April 8, as the fighting had tapered off, the survivors were deemed too unfit to continue. The battle group had gone into reserve, and a week later, had set off on foot for the nearest rail hub. They had departed the savagery of the East by train on the 20th, and were now getting off in Toulouse.
A total of just over 500 survivors derail—less than a battalion in strength, and less than a tenth the size of the original battle group.
***
Back at La Roche-Guyon, Rommel is troubled. Today he is to entertain an illustrious guest, General Heinz Guderian, to discuss yet again the recurring problem of placing the panzers. This discussion will be no small matter. The word of the Generalinspektur der Panzertruppen still carries much weight with the Führer. At 55 years old, Guderian is by now considered the creator of the German panzer corps, and the father of panzer warfare. Unfortunately, his concepts have not caught on with all of the German general officer corps, and his blunt manner of telling the truth as he sees it often borders on tactlessness. Still, his bullish determination to expand the role of the panzers is boundless, and in early 1938, he was chosen to lead Germany’s first armored corps, the 16th Panzer Corps.
Like Rommel, his ascendancy to higher commands has been resisted by the general officer corps, and like Rommel, he is considered by most to be a foremost panzer expert in the field. To Rommel though, Guderian’s credentials are far more impressive. With some time on his hands, the field marshal writes an early letter to his wife:
Dearest Lu:
Tomorrow I am going to take a more extended trip to the southwest and south [of France].
It looks now as though the British and Americans are going to do us the favor of keeping away for a bit. Still no sign of them. For our coastal defenses, this will be of immense value, for we are now growing stronger every day, every week—at least on the ground, though the same is not true for the air. But even that will change to our advantage again some time.
My inventions are coming into action. Thus I am looking forward to the battle with the profoundest confidence—it might be in May, or perhaps not until the end of the month.
A nice touch, he feels. Easing Lucie’s mind from worry is the least that he can do. Besides, no doubt Himmler’s men are checking out his mail regularly. This should keep them quiet. He continues:
What is Ajax doing? My little one7 is touchingly affectionate and loves sweet things. He sleeps in my room now, underneath my luggage stand. He’s going to be inoculated soon against distemper.
Went riding again yesterday, but I’m feeling my joints pretty badly today.
Guderian is due here this afternoon. The affair with Geyr von Schweppenburg—with whom I recently had to be very rough because he would not give way to my plans—has all been cleared up now by orders from above and decided as I wanted it.
That afternoon they get word that Guderian will not show up today. One of his staff members phones around noontime to report that his visit will be a day late, because he is behind schedule. Also, the delay will allow Geyr von Schweppenburg to attend as well. More trouble. Now Rommel will be double-teamed.
That night, he has difficulty sleeping. Enemy bombers—the RAF, no doubt—pass over the château at times throughout the night, and although there are no air raids, the noise of their rumbling above unsettles him. Will they hit his headquarters tonight? He wonders as the night slips by.
***
A Luftwaffe reconnaissance aircraft late this afternoon has reported spotting a convoy of some seven merchant ships off Start Point, England.8 Alerted by this report, German shore-based surveillance systems this evening have noticed heavier than normal radio traffic around Lyme Bay, somewhere around the eastward side of the point. At 23:17 p.m., two radar stations report possible contacts across the English Channel.
In response, Krancke orders two groups of S-boats to move into the area to investigate and do some reconnaissance.
1For the invasion, the moon would actually rise at 6:30 p.m. on June 5.
2Flottentorpedoboot Klasse 1939, Elbing class torpedo boat, the largest German T-boat built, equivalent in size to a US destroyer. Of the 30-some T-boats of various classes built during the ware, there wer only about half a dozen left in Admiral Krancke’s possession at this time, testimony no doubt to the determination of the Allies to control the surrounding seas. Another T-boat, the T-21 (Klasse 1937), had itself been damaged just a few weeks earlier and was at this time undergoing repairs in drydock.
Three sister vessels—T-24, T-27, and T-29—had in recent weeks been minelaying in the Bay of Biscay. Early on the night of April 25, they ventured out again into the English Channel, along with a few Schnellbootes. Unfortunately, they were picked up on radar near St. Malo at 2 a.m. on the 26th by the cruiser HMS Black Prince, which was accompanied by four British destroyers out of Ushant: HMS Ashanti, HMCS Athahaskan, HMCS Haida and HMCS Huron. After a running gun battle along the Brittany peninsula, fought in the dark and at a distance, the T-boats attempted to turn back near the coast. T-29 was detected and engaged west of the Seven Islands (Sept-Îles). She was sunk at 4:21 a.m. further west, near the Îles-de-Batz, by the Haida and the Huron (the Haida sustained damage from the battle as well). The T-27 was also damaged, but managed to put in to St. Malo for repairs, along with the T-24.
3“Lightning fields.” These were last-minute, ad-hoc minefields to be immediately laid by all available vessels and naval bombers as soon as the invasion was impending or had begun.
4The Type-A was an “oyster” mine, or pressure mine. They were also not permitted to be laid before the invasion began. This edict of the navy’s was backed up by OKW’s agreement, so there was little that Heeresgruppe B could do to change Krancke’s mind.
5See April 11 entry.
6Stürmbannführer Otto Weidinger, the division’s commanding officer. SS Oberführer Heinz Lammerding, had turned the battle group over to him in early March and had left for France to reorganize the rest of his division.
7Elbo, again, the younger of the two dogs that were given to him by Organization Todt. Strangely the smaller of the two dogs he usually refers to indirectly, as in “my little dog” or “the little one.” Ajax, at home with Lucie, is usually cited by name.
8Located on the western half of the southern coast of England, forming the left horn tip of Lyme Bay.
Friday, April 28
Just after midnight, nine 35-meter-long German Schnellboote1 set out from Cherbourg on patrol to investigate earlier sightings. Avoiding a group of British MTBs watching their port area, they make their way northeast across the English Channel. They then begin a sweep, moving northwest towards Lyme Bay. They glide quietly through the water in two formations. The first group, of six boats, is Korvettekapitän Bernd Klug’s 5. S-Flottille, consisting of S-100, S-136, S-138, S-140, S-142, S-143, and the other group consists of Korvettekapitän Gotz Freiherr von Mirbach’s 9. S-Flottille: the S-130, S-145, and S-150.
Over an hour later, the half-dozen patrol boats of Klug’s 5th Flot
illa are cruising along the southern coast of England near a stretch of beach called Slapton Sands. The moon has just gone down, so the skies are not yet completely pitch black. The seas are calm.
Around 1:30 a.m., the German crews suddenly find themselves approaching several dark, medium-sized ships, the silhouettes materializing far ahead. The vessels are moving at about six or seven knots in a single-file column over 4 kilometers long, each with a clearly visible, splashy wake. The German skippers cannot know that they have stumbled onto the tail end of a major enemy naval exercise.2
In the black shadows, Klug’s six patrol boats split up into three pairs: Rotte 1 consisting of S-100 and S-143; Oberleutnant-zur-See Goetschke’s Rotte 2, the S-140 and S-142; and Rotte 3: S-136 and S-138. The three groups close in on the vessels from three different directions. As they slowly make their way forward, they focus hard, trying to identify what is ahead of them. There are a total of nine ships: a small leading escort, then a line of five vessels, followed by three more. All eight vessels, other than the escort, are similar-looking in configuration. Are they destroyers? Possibly. They do not appear to be merchant ships.
Initially puzzled why so many warships would travel that way, the Germans have recovered fast. Having crept up stealthily in the last few minutes upon the unsuspecting enemy—well, unresponsive at any rate—they now react quickly. It is now about 2 a.m. Taking turns, each Rotte swarms in at over 35 knots, swings around, and fires. Rotte 3 goes in first, quickly unleashes all of its torpedoes, first from one side, then turning and firing from the other. Rotte 2 moves in and shoots two fish, but they both seem to miss. The German skippers conclude that the vessels must have a shallow draft. Rotte 1 is luckier, and several torpedoes run true and hit their mark. At least one vessel bursts into flames and starts to sink. One S-boat manages to get off a contact report at 2:03 a.m.
Now identifying these vessels as some type of American landing ship, the Schnellboote quickly close in again. Fires have broken out on two of the targets, providing better light for the patrol boats to see by. They charge ahead at full speed, firing their guns.3 The enemy vessels fire back into the shadows, and at least two landing ships take the unprecedented decision of sporadically using searchlights to try to spot the German attackers. The small escort has turned around to starboard to meet the unexpected threat, but the Schnellboote are far too quick for it.
The red tracers in the night sky are immediately seen far away by the three boats of von Mirbach’s 9th Flotilla. They quickly come about and cruise over to the area to investigate. Spotting the enemy landing ships at a bearing of 070 degrees, they too close in and attack. Once again, the vessels struggle to defend themselves from these unexpected, savage night raiders. A second escort speeds toward the area and the two begin to chase the patrol boats.
In the final ensuing attacks, S-100 collides with S-143, damaging its superstructure. Clearly, it is time to leave. The Germans disengage and start to head south into the night.
By 3:30 a.m., the action is almost over. One of the strange-looking vessels4 is seriously crippled, on fire, and barely moving in the water. It has already lowered a few landing craft, no doubt to pull it back to harbor. S-145 attacks them with gunfire. Another ship has burst into flames, probably trapping scores of victims below deck. A third that was hit sinks immediately, probably sending hundreds of enemy soldiers and sailors to a watery grave.
The nine German patrol boats speed away, using smoke to mask their quick escape. Moving out of the area southward, they send out another contact report and head back to Cherbourg harbor, delighted at their handiwork, thankful to have escaped without harm, and also wondering what the hell they had stumbled into. They can only surmise the tremendous hornet’s nest that they have stirred up in the enemy camp.
In the meantime, the entire Normandy coastline, forewarned by the report, goes on alert.
***
Rommel and his staff stay around the headquarters château, catching up on paperwork and other small odd jobs. Admiral Ruge takes time out in the morning to go through his mail, tend to some administrative details and, oddly enough, to finish doing his taxes. His assistant, Kapitän Peters, goes back to Marinegruppenkommandos West in Paris to again talk about the naval batteries using lateral observers.
Later that morning, Ruge sits down with Rommel and tells him about his meeting the day before with Admiral Krancke. Thankfully, Krancke did not pursue his earlier insistence that Ruge actually be subordinate to his own command, instead of reporting directly to Rommel. All was not forgiven though, and Ruge tells the field marshal about Krancke’s determination not to mine the Seine until the invasion. Ruge describes Krancke’s plans for Blitzsperren that could be laid after the landings have begun, and how they would be just as effective.
Rommel shakes his head as Ruge relays how he had objected to the idea, although he had not been vehement doing so. That could have triggered an angry response, and Krancke in retaliation could have gone back to his former peeve regarding Ruge’s questionable chain of command. No, it was better for Ruge to let that sleeping dog lie for now.
Ruge tells Rommel how he had instead commented that he found it difficult to believe that the small Kriegsmarine forces would be able to lay a sizable quantity of mines in the presence of an overwhelming enemy fleet. Besides, it would take a good deal of time and effort to get the Type-A mine laid. Krancke had just refused point blank. Not until the invasion came. Anyway, the Kriegsmarine Naval Staff was afraid that, once the new type mines were laid, the Allies would recover one, figure out its secrets, begin to manufacture them as well, and then use them on German shipping in the Baltic area.
Today Rommel’s staff prepares for the arrival of the Inspector-General of the Panzertruppen, who had been expected yesterday. He will be calling on them this evening.
That afternoon, while Speidel goes out for a walk, Ruge has some fun with Rommel’s dog, Elbo, and provides comic relief for the staff. The admiral and Peters had found a huge land turtle yesterday afternoon, and they had brought it back to the château. Now, Ruge unleashes the lumbering reptile on Elbo. Naturally, the dog is at first terrified of the beast, but soon becomes bolder, finding the courage to stand his ground, barking louder and louder at the slowpoke intruder.
At 5 p.m. that afternoon, General Baron Leo Geyr von Schweppenburg arrives. After greetings are exchanged, he spends the next forty-five minutes talking to Speidel.
Around 6 p.m. that evening, General Guderian himself finally shows up with one of his staff officers. The Inspector-General apologizes for being late, but he has been in another part of France gathering information for OKW and was delayed.
As protocol demands, Guderian and Geyr meet with the field marshal and Speidel in the Grand Salon. Rommel hopes that the encounter will not turn out too explosively as he fears. He knows the meeting has been partially triggered by this recent trouble over moving the 2nd Panzer close to the coast, even though OKW had at last officially released the unit to his command. Guderian only administratively oversees the panzers. Geyr, still responsible for its training, is the one that has lost operational command of the unit. Clearly, these two have come to put up a fight about this move and the alarming trend Rommel has embarked upon.
Patience is needed here, Rommel reminds himself. After all, they mean well. They are all on the same side. Still, politics in the Wehrmacht is always a factor. At any rate, he is certainly not going to take any guff from Geyr. And Guderian, experienced as he is in panzer warfare, will not exactly be talking to any slouch. Rommel has a good deal of fighting experience himself, by now.
The meeting begins pleasantly in the presence of their senior staff officers. Guderian and Rommel warm up to each other. Although there has never been any love lost between them, they each respect the accomplishments of the other.
The three senior officers talk about the different theories that they believe will work best against the Allies. Rommel lays out his schedule and discloses that, like the 2nd Panzer, he is
going to move the 21st Panzer closer to the coast, south of Caen. He has similar plans for the 116th Panzer. When he suggests that the remaining three panzer divisions in Geyr’s command do likewise, the discussion heats up. Rommel of course staunchly defends his idea of digging in these units close to the coast. Guderian, as expected, supports Geyr’s (and von Rundstedt’s) theory of keeping them back inland, under Geyr’s command (and not, it is implied, under Rommel’s). Guderian’s point is not unreasonable, at least on that point. If von Rundstedt is to command the overall theater, he reasons, and Rommel is defending the coast, someone else might have to command the panzers for the counterattack.
The baron attempts to mend the fences that he had torn down in their fiery meeting on March 29, now almost a month ago. To get on Rommel’s good side, he softens his approach, apologizing for his sometimes blunt and rash behavior.
Guderian here points out that Geyr, with his valuable Eastern Front experience, is the obvious choice to command von Rundstedt’s panzers. A decisive counterstroke from a large, inland reserve mobile force, coupled with a massive set of strikes from a held-back Luftwaffe contingent, would be crucial in defeating the invasion. The panzers, Guderian goes on to explain, are in his opinion effective because they are able to move and concentrate their firepower quickly over large distances. “How can they do that if they are stationary and exposed on the coast?”
Rommel is unconvinced. “I agree that they must maintain their mobility. But not inland.”
Guderian pushes his point. “Herr Feldmarschall, the panzers must be positioned inland, away from the enemy navy. If they are not, their warships and air force will devastate the columns.”
Countdown to D-Day Page 52
