As if to reinforce his concern, a second disquieting message from the Luftwaffe reports that Allied aerial reconnaissance in France has increased significantly the last few days. The enemy is getting quite nosy now for some reason. He writes out a memo to Speidel, requesting that the Luftwaffe immediately try again to conduct some aerial reconnaissance flights of its own over all the British southern ports.
The third noteworthy message is from General Marcks at 84th Corps. He reports that his sector is seriously behind schedule in building defensive barriers. This, Marcks explains, is due to a lack of supplies, inferior materials, and a shortage of power. Marcks estimates that the defensive construction program in his zone is only about half done. Rommel also notes his copy of a message Marcks has sent to OB West, requesting eight to ten small trains be put at his disposal to speed up the placement of casements in his coastal defenses. Rommel smirks. Not much chance of getting those trains from the old man.
Rommel thinks about Marcks’ report for a bit, and then writes out another memo for his staff. Heeresgruppe B is to request of OB West that, regarding all special construction undertakings and supply shipments, those that are slated for coastal defense be hereafter given the highest priority.
Fortified by a forecasted storm coming their way, Rommel is thankful that a possible Allied landing in the low tide/good moon period between June 4 and June 7 is now probably just an academic question. He is considerably relieved.
He finally stands up, stretches, and leaves the study to go have his usual early breakfast. Lang as always waits in the hallway to accompany him. After eating, he chairs a conference concerning that battalion of SS military geological engineers in the Seventh Army sector. They are excellent at helping with the defensive barriers, but Himmler wants to withdraw them to Germany. The army can complain all it wants, but in the end, they are Himmler’s unit.
Orders from OKW via OB West arrive. The 19th Luftwaffe Stürm Division is going to be transferred out of Belgium. It is slated to travel south through Blaskowitz’s Armeegruppe G, and then on to Italy to fortify the crumbling line there. Other matters come up, but they only carry a part of the field marshal’s interest. Though tired, he is restless, because he is looking forward to his trip today to Paris.
A number of staff members pursue by phone some mundane subjects such as smoke candles and smoke-creating acids. Later that morning, two army generals from the HWaA1 promise Rommel that the manufacture of those multiple rocket launchers that he recently saw demonstrated will continue by Major Becker’s men.
A new message comes in from the central SS intelligence branch in Berlin, now the army’s main intelligence source since the SS took over the duties of the Abwehr. The message reports the interception of the Verlaine poem’s first verse, and concludes that the invasion can be expected within the next two weeks. Maybe the low tide/full moon period of the 5th/6th/7th. On the other hand, Dönitz’s naval headquarters has dismissed the interception as bogus, possibly part of an enemy exercise. So many variables…
Thinking about it, Rommel requests that just in case, the Luftwaffe lay some Blitzsperren in both approach channels around the Isle of Wight. Between the lethargy and the inadequacy of the Luftwaffe at this time though (in contrast to the full preparedness of the Allies), this request is probably not going to be carried out.2
Early that afternoon, under cloudy skies, Rommel wearily climbs once again into the front passenger seat of his Horch, with Lang in the back. Daniel starts the car, and they drive off towards the metropolitan capital.
First, they call on von Rundstedt in St.-Germain-en-Laye. The old Prussian and his chief of staff greet them at his villa. Blumentritt immediately notes Rommel’s fatigue. The two field marshals and Blumentritt sit and have tea.
While they are chatting, they are presented with Generalmajor Hans Cramer. Now refreshed from having taken leave and mindful of the Führer’s specific instructions, Cramer fills them in completely on everything the Allies showed him. He recounts the tour he was given on the way to the harbor where he was to board a ship to be repatriated. He describes in detail the many weapons and vehicle depots that he saw—supposedly, the FUSAG3 units that were ready to go, located in what was probably southeast England…
Cramer concludes that, from what he had seen of the Allied units, it seemed to him that the enemy would hit somewhere either below Calais, or near the Somme estuary, the second of which just happened to be Rommel’s pet theory.4
They all discuss the information. To the old man, this is more confirmation that the invasion will come at Calais. Rommel is not so sure. The Allies must have had some good motive for showing Cramer all of that stuff. To perhaps discourage the Germans into giving up? Hardly. Much more likely, it was to throw them off the track…
Cramer eventually leaves them.5 The two field marshals then discuss the status of the defenses along the coast and the upcoming bad weather. They talk about Rommel’s trip home. Both of them agree that it is a good time for it, what with the upcoming storm. Anyway, Rommel needs the break. Blumentritt will later note that Rommel seemed “tired and tense…a man who needed to be home for a few days with his family.”
Rommel now formally requests to go on leave in Germany from June 5–8. Von Rundstedt immediately grants it.6 They chat for a while longer on minor details. A panzer battalion from Panzer Lehr will be fitted with PzKw V tanks and then probably sent to the Eastern Front. Enemy bombing of their transportation lines continues. Tactical enemy units across the Channel have gone on radio silence…
Von Rundstedt tells Rommel that he too is going to take advantage of the bad weather. He has scheduled an inspection trip of Western France and is going to take along his son. The itinerary has been radioed to OKW He mentions that he will inspect a couple of their Russian Östentruppen, and they smile at the thought. That will be interesting.
Rommel finally takes his leave. Von Rundstedt and Blumentritt sincerely wish him a safe trip and a pleasant leave. As Rommel starts to walk out, he looks over at von Rundstedt and Blumentritt. “There’s not even going to be an invasion,” he says with a slight huff. “And if there is, then they won’t even get off the beaches!”
He and Lang pile back into black Horch and set off for downtown Paris, Rommel intent on getting those birthday shoes for Lucie. He ends up purchasing a beautiful pair of handmade gray suede shoes—size 5½, just as she had told him.
On the trip back to the château, it starts raining. Rommel gazes out at the passing French landscape. The timing for his leave seems good. The weather is confirming the latest meteorological reports. The task of landing now would be at quite hard. Nor are the tides right. They are scheduled around the 5th and 6th to be low in the morning. OKW has agreed with him that this would not be suitable for a landing, since, as Rommel has often reviewed, the assault troops would have to travel hundreds of yards further across an exposed beach to reach the cliffs. This longer distance would naturally result in many more casualties. It was upon this premise that most of the Atlantic Wall obstacles have been laid out and positioned.
He sits back in the Horch, wrapped in thought. Granted, the extra time would let his men fire more shells at the enemy; but there is, he acknowledges uneasily, a positive aspect to partially offset this drawback. Landing at low tide would allow the assault force to more easily avoid and better dispose of the impeding but exposed high-tide beach obstacles. It might also allow the enemy to bring in heavier equipment a little faster, and with less difficulty.7 Would it be worth getting shot at for a longer period of time? He does not think so. No, Rommel is pretty sure that they would come in at high or at least medium tide. They had before.
Even so, this continues to bother him. When he arrives at La Roche-Guyon, he gives Speidel a summation of his trip. He then goes to his study and drafts out a formal instruction to partially ease his concerns. Fearful now of a possible low-tide invasion, Rommel orders his units to continue with their huge offshore barrier construction program, but to now concentr
ate on low-tide obstacles. Most areas have finished, or are over three-quarters finished, with the high-tide barriers. The two mid-tide barriers are coming along; but many of the low-tide barriers have not even been started yet, especially in the Seventh Army sector.
Now that the even lower spring tides are here, Rommel wants the men to take advantage of this temporary condition and set up as many as possible of the low-tide belts that have taken so long to get started. Especially since intelligence reports have stated that the Allies had practiced a few low-tide landings recently. The rush program is to have a completion date of June 20. While his units might not be able to reach that target, at least they will understand that there was a matter of urgency here. He writes down a message to be sent to his unit commanders:
The enemy has conducted repeated invasion maneuvers at low tide, which means we may have to take such an invasion seriously into account.
A really rushed program could get a good many completed in a few weeks.
You are to complete this by June 20.
Oberst! Staubwasser, Rommel’s Ic, receives a report from Reile’s counterintelligence group on the two-part message system for the Underground and the significance of the Verlaine first line. Never having been prewarned about these two-part trigger messages, his written response in his daily assessment reflects his skepticism, and the incoming bad weather shows that the radio silence across the Channel is just a ruse. He writes:
The increased transmission of alarm phrases by enemy radio since June 1 for the French underground cells is not, on previous experience, to be interpreted as an indication that the beginning of the invasion is imminent.
Chief of Staff Speidel countersigns the report.
That evening, Rommel pursues some final details for his trip. He notes in his diary:
The most pressing problem was to speak to the Führer personally on the Obersalzberg, convey to him the extent of the manpower and material inferiority we would suffer in the event of a landing, and request dispatch of two further panzer divisions, an AA Corps, and a Nebelwerfer brigade to Normandy.
Now, if only the Allies give him a few more weeks. It looks like they just might…
Allied Intelligence, after examining some recent aerial recon photos of the Normandy coastline, finally begins to suspect that some elements of another infantry unit have relocated along the Calvados coast, east of the Vire estuary. It is probably the veteran 352nd Infantry Division, which had been further south, although intelligence analysts have heard nothing of this move up until now from any Resistance groups.8 They therefore theorize that these few units, even if they are indeed part of the 352nd, have only recently relocated to the coast for a “defensive beach exercise” and probably will withdraw as soon as it is concluded. Still, major commands should probably be notified.
General Bradley, commanding the American units scheduled to land in that area, will not find out about the “temporarily” reinforced coastline for another 48 hours—after his flagship puts out to sea on June 5, and a little over four hours before the naval assault begins. And the American troops hitting this strip of beach will not know until it is too late that this entire area has been permanently reinforced and fortified by a veteran infantry division, and that these seasoned troops have been alerted and are patiently awaiting their arrival.
This coastal strip has been designated by the Allied planners as Omaha beach.9
It is late evening. Although the weather is bad, the Fifteenth Army’s Signal Center in Tourcoing is busy as ever, intercepting different BBC transmissions. A weary Oberst!leutnant Meyer is listening to some of the broadcasts himself tonight, even though he desperately needs some sleep. This is the third night in a row that the first line of that verdammte Verlaine poem has been picked up. Meyer had been led to believe that the first line would only be transmitted once. Could these repetitions indicate some kind of operational cancellation? Or are the Allies just playing a ruse? Perhaps they are just making sure that the Resistance receives the word? That makes sense. Maybe it is a sort of “standby” indicator… Why couldn’t intelligence work be easy once in a while?
Some time before 11 p.m., he is called to the phone by Unteroffizier Reichling. Listening to this excited voice, Meyer is told news that makes his heart begin thumping wildly. His signals unit has just intercepted a high-speed radio teletype dispatch from an American news agency, the Associated Press. The chilling message reads:
URGENT PRESS ASSOCIATED NYK FLASH— EISENHOWER’S HQ ANNOUNCES ALLIED LANDINGS IN FRANCE.10
As Meyer grabs his hat and hurries out of his office, he fights down the panic rising in his chest. The Allies have already landed? How? And where? Certainly not around his area. So where? And if the enemy has landed, why have they not sent that second Verlaine verse that Berlin had warned would come first? Had his team missed it? If so, he would be in deep trouble.
At any rate, he has to alert all the major headquarters immediately. But they will certainly want to know the location of the landing. What on earth should he tell them? A response of “I do not know” would not go over well at all. That would look really stupid on his part.
His staff alerted, he quickly scans the incoming message traffic for any other clues, but there are none. No radar reports, no sightings, no phone calls, nothing. Everything seems boringly normal.
The intercept simply has to be a ruse. The second part of the Verlaine message has not come yet. Besides, there is absolutely no indication of any trouble anywhere; just the normal enemy air activity. If there has been a landing, sure as hell somebodywould have said something. In the absence of any corroborating reports to the intercept, he is forced to bet on Canaris’s information being right. Of course, Berlin has been wrong so many times before. He has no idea how many intelligence reports he has received in the last few months, giving them information that had later proven to be either partially or (more often) completely wrong.
And yet…
He looks down at the message again. He makes his decision. He is going to go out on a very dangerous limb and hold off hitting the panic button for now. Still, he calls his superior, General Hoffmann, 11 and tells him of the news flash. Hoffmann reacts by telling Meyer to stay on it, and to damn well find out for sure. And that is just what he will have to do.
It is getting on to midnight. So much for his social life—or for sleep…
***
Today at the Berghof there is a wedding. Gretl Braun is to wed SS-Obergruppenführer Hermann Fegelein, a member of Heinrich Himmler’s staff. The reception goes off elegantly, and afterward, photos are taken, followed by a party at the Kehlsteinhaus.12 The stylishly dressed Eva Braun, “Die Chefin”13 as the other ladies refer to her (with mixed emotions), is the darling of the evening, along with her sister Gretl, of course.
By 9:30 p.m., a good part of the Allied invasion fleet is either making its way through the heavy seas or is in the process of leaving the many English harbors. The weather has been rough and even seems to be getting worse. Some of the vessels have already been at sea for days now. Hundreds of other vessels are still in port awaiting either their turn to depart, or a temporary stand-down order from Eisenhower’s headquarters.
The Supreme Commander has started a meeting with his command staff just north of Portsmouth at Southwick Manor, which is now Admiral Ramsay’s headquarters. With them is SHAEF’s head meteorologist, 43-year-old RAF Group Captain James M. Stagg, who has the misfortune of telling Eisenhower that weather conditions in the Channel will be too stormy to permit even minimal conditions for a landing on the 5th. The invasion must be called off and the fleet recalled. Eisenhower, a stern look of concentration on his face, sits immobile, weighing his options.
He decides to postpone his decision for just a few hours, in hopes that the weather might show signs of letting up.
1Heereswaffenamt, the Armaments Office of the German Army. The two generals were its director, General der Artillerie Emil Leeb, and Operations Coordinator, Generalleutnant Eric
h Schneider.
2At the end of May, Luftflotte 3 only had on the books some 900 aircraft, of which only about 650 were actually deemed operational. General Kammhuber’s Luftflotte 5 in Norway had fewer than 200 serviceable aircraft.
3First US Army Group—Patton’s fictitious command, as part of Operation Fortitude.
4Cramer of course had indeed been set up by the Allies. The tour had been a carefully staged drama, enacted for his benefit. See entry for May 23.
5After more medical attention (he really did have an asthmatic condition, but it was not serious), Cramer was eventually assigned to Geyr von Schweppenburg’s PanzerArmee West.
6Rommel had already spoken to Jodl about taking a few days off twice by phone. Initially, he had suggested that he le ve whenever circumstances permitted to call on the Führer at Obersalzberg and update him on the situation in the West. In a second conversation, he had reiterated the suggestion, and then had asked Jodl if he could coordinate this with a stopover at his home in Herrlingen, to celebrate his wife’s birthday. Jodl had agreed, and had told him to just drive straight from there the next day to Berchtesgaden. Jodl tentatively set their conference up for June 7. Rommel had then spoken by phone about the idea to von Rundstedt, who was agreeable. So Rommel’s request was no surprise to von Rundstedt, merely official formality.
7This was exactly what Eisenhower, Bradley, and Montgomery had concluded.
8See entry for May 29.
Countdown to D-Day Page 74
