Countdown to D-Day
Page 85
On the left flank, the Americans have broken through on the southeastern part of the Cotentin peninsula and are driving hard inland. To the right of the Vire River, the enemy has taken horrific losses in trying to get ashore. However, the onslaught of enemy assault troops on the beach has ended. The Americans have somehow broken through the defense of the cliffs and are now slowly moving inland.
All in all, the Allies have landed at least six divisions, with elements of others arriving even now. Three airborne divisions have been so far identified, two American and one British. They have secured the exits to the beaches in many places along both flanks.
The enemy beach areas have been more or less sealed off by the Germans, but all the local reserves have been committed. Ammo is at a low level, and the men are doing without a lot of support all along the front. Very few supplies are getting to the front. Morale is down (Rommel personally blames himself for that), and everyone is probably wondering where the hell the panzers are.
The 21st Panzer have made a desperate limited thrust between the Canadians and the British, and some panzergrenadiers had actually reached the coast in one or two points; but the lack of reinforcements and an unexpected Allied air drop in their rear forced them to pull back. Rommel questions that decision, but since it is already a fait accompli, there is no use in creating a stink over it.
On the positive side (Rommel is thankful that there is one), Panzer Lehr and 12th SS Panzer are slowly moving up for a counterattack, although reports indicate that they are struggling under repeated air attacks. Rommel grimaces at that. How many times had he told them?
2nd Panzer Division can be moved from the Somme, and 2nd SS Panzer down in southern France getting ready to trek northward. In addition, the 17th SS Panzergrenadier Division in midwest France is also getting ready to move towards the invasion area. Thus, Rommel will gain at least four panzer divisions and one panzergrenadier over the next few days to move against the invasion site. But will it be enough? Or is it already too late?
Rommel had preached all of these months that unless the Allies could be pushed back into the sea in the first few hours (now highly unlikely), Germany would lose the war. He hopes that he is wrong in this case. But he usually is not. Still, he had miscalculated the invasion date…
With a successful enemy invasion launched and possibly another to come soon, as well as a number of key officers absent at this time, Rommel is sure that there will be repercussions from the Führer. Looking at his anxious chief of staff, Rommel finds the need to reassure him. He says, “Good work, Speidel. If I had been here, I could not have done anything else than what you have done and the actions you have initiated.”
The field marshal spends the next two hours getting updated on what has happened, working past midnight. One of the first items is to contact OKW and request that all the first-rate combat regiments from the Fifteenth Army be sent to Normandy, to be followed by the second-rate units at the Pas-de-Calais. OKW, still figuring that the main thrust is yet to come, turns him down. They do though, allow him the use of the 346th Infantry northeast of Le Havre.
Calling them back later, he asks that the 35,000-man garrison stuck on the Channel Islands be moved to the front. Again he is turned down. If the Channel Islands were evacuated, the Allies could march right in and use them as a staging point for further smaller amphibious landings, not to mention create airstrips there.
He also asks for the two panzer divisions stationed in southern France, the 9th and the 10th, to be released. Again, patiently, OKW refuses his request. The 17th SS and 2nd SS though, are already getting ready to move.
Rommel then tries contacting a few Seventh Army units, but most radio communications are being jammed, and many of the land lines are still out because of bombings and Maquis activities. He does though, at one point, get through to Max Pemsel at Seventh Army headquarters. “You’ve got to stop the enemy from getting a foothold, whatever happens!” he yells into the phone.
Rommel also gets through to 21st Panzer, and orders them to attack at 8 a.m., along with the 12th SS Panzer, which is suppose to have arrived by then. Bayerlein’s Panzer Lehr, hounded by the enemy Jabos, will take some time to get to the front.
Rommel looks again at the map. The 21st Panzer is dug in on the eastern flank and south of Caen. The 716th Division, reduced to the size of a few battalions and 12 pieces of artillery, is grimly hanging on. The 352nd is holding its own, but its supplies are running critically low, and no relief is getting through. The division’s engineer battalion, the last of the reserves, has moved from St. Martin-de-Blagny and joined the 916th Regiment, waiting for another attack in the Colleville area.
The 30th Schnell-Brigade, 15 commanded by Oberst!leutnant Freiherr von und zu Aufsess, has left Coutances and is on its way to the front. But given the fact that they can only travel by bicycle, and considering the heavy enemy airpower, they will probably not reach the invasion area until mid-morning.
A couple hours later, those still awake at the château are exhausted, ready to call it a night. As the minutes wear on, everything along the front has wound down—except of course, the Allied buildup along the beaches, but even that is reported as slacking off some. A lot has happened, and tomorrow is going to be a very busy day indeed.
Some time past midnight, Rommel finds himself with his aide again. By now Lang too has heard of the failure of the 21st Panzer’s attack the day before. Naturally, he is crushed. The invasion seems to have succeeded. According to Rommel’s own theories, the first day would be the most crucial. Have they already lost? Looking at the field marshal sadly, he asks, “Sir, do you think we can drive them back?”
Rommel glances over at him wearily and shrugs. He slowly spreads his hands. “Lang, I hope we can. I’ve nearly always succeeded up to now.”
It is quiet in the villa. The field marshal suddenly realizes that it is late. They have both had a long trip. Now he reaches over and pats his aide on the shoulder. “You look tired,” he says, almost paternally. “Why don’t you go to bed? It’s been a long day.” It had been a long day—the longest day, he had once called it. Well, that was certainly true for Lang and him.
The exhausted field marshal turns away and, already lost in thought, slowly walks down the oak-paneled hall to his office. He gently closes the door behind.
On the coast, the Allies, far from being in a celebratory mood, move at breakneck speed to consolidate their bloody beachheads. They are pretty sure that they are there to stay, but you just never know. The wise ones keep looking over their shoulders for swarms of German tanks to descend upon them.
Besides, there is not much to celebrate at this point. There is a long road ahead of them, the fight has just begun in France, and thousands of their comrades already lie dead or dying at their feet.
1The exact time at which Rommel was first informed of the invasion remains to this day a mystery. Many sources state that Speidel made the first or the only phone call (depending on the source) between 6 and 6:30 a.m. Others claim only one, including the headquarters war diary, which logged only one call to Rommel at 10:15 German Central Time (GCT). Also, Ryan in his book (The Longest Day) and Mitcham (The Desert Fox In Normandy) state this.
Regarding the time and number of calls, two of Ryan’s sources seem the most reliable. One was an interview with Manfred Rommel on July 9, 1958, some 14 years later, and another was with Lang at his home in Gemund the same day. Each stated that the first phone call came around 5 a.m. (certainly early enough in the morning), and that the second call came later at the verified time of 10:15. Also, Speidel told Ryan in an interview that he called Rommel initially “around 6 a.m.” Ryan though, only included this call in a footnote and questioned Speidel’s accuracy, despite the corroborative testimony given by Captain Lang, Manfred Rommel, and von Tempelhoff. Koch states in his book (Erwin Rommel, die Wandlung eines grossen Soldaten) that Lucie told him the first call came around 6:30 a.m.
Ryan doubted that there was ever a first call. He st
ated in his notes, “There seems to be grave doubts in my mind that Rommel received a phone call at 5 a.m. on the morning of June 6, because it is not recorded anywhere in the official o.d. west [sic] diary. There’s even a doubt in my mind that Rommel was naturally at his home. There is a possibility that Speidel was unable to get the field marshal and did not contact him until the time that is specified in the war diary which was 10:15 on the morning of June 5 German time.”
This second 10:15 a.m. call has some credence through the fact that Speidel was not notified of any actual landings until General Pemsel at Le Mans called him around 9:05 a.m. However, Pemsel did call at 6:15 a.m. to report a naval bombardment, but Speidel concluded that its purpose was not clear, and that it might be a diversion for an attack elsewhere. Testimony from Mrs. Kirchheim at the Rommel home that day also supports the 10:15 call time (See Irving, p. 442), as does of course, the army group war diary, and the Army Group B Telephone Log.
Testimonies given by Lang and Tempelhoff are enough evidence to support Speidel’s claim that there were indeed at least two phone calls. Perhaps General Speidel’s time of 6 a.m. was just an estimate,. This discrepancy would then confirm both Lang’s and Manfred Rommel’s claims of the first call at 5 a.m. The first call could very well have occurred to give the field marshal a “heads up,” and as such would not be considered official.
David Fraser (Knight’s Cross, p. 485) wrote that Speidel first called Rommel at 6:30 a.m. to tell him about the airdrops, but that Rommel later called him back at 10 a.m. It was at that time, Fraser wrote, that the field marshal was first told by Speidel about the amphibious landings that had occurred in Normandy.
A few other sources claim that Rommel received the only word of the invasion between 6 and
7 a.m. (e.g., Patrick, p.82). One even wrote that Rommel was in contact with elements of the 1st SS Panzer Corps at 6:30 a.m. This is highly unlikely. If Rommel had been fully alerted before 7 a.m., he certainly would have been dragging his heels in leaving for the front at 11:40 a.m. The testimonies of those present at his villa in indicate that he was indeed called early, but not actually informed of the invasion until later in the morning.
Unfortunately for the modern historian, a number of omissions and corrections were later made to the Heeresgruppe B War Diary. General Speidel admitted this after the war. Instructions for these
changes came from or were made by Rommel, Speidel himself, or by the Operations officer, von Tempelhoff. Ostensibly, the “adjustments” were made to prevent any retribution upon anyone when Adolf Hitler himself ordered a subsequent investigation. Suspicious and smelling treason in the air, he demanded a full inquiry to find out why so many key commanders had been away from their headquarters on the day of the invasion. The log changes in the army group diary were later made to protect those individuals who had indeed been away at that time, including von Tempelhoff, Lang, and of course, Rommel himself.
2Pickert would survive the war. He would be promoted to General, Flak Artillery in March of 1945, and would end the war commanding the entire flak contingent of the Luftwaffe.
3See footnote for June 4.
4Von Salmuth wrote, “At 6 a.m., since it had been daylight for an hour and a half, I had my chief of staff telephone Seventh Army again to ask if the enemy had landed anywhere yet. The reply was, ‘Fleets of troop transports and warships big and small are lying at various points offshore, with masses of landing craft. But so far no landing has yet taken place.’ Thereupon I went back to sleep with a calm mind, after telling my chief of staff ‘So their invasion has miscarried already!’”
5See earlier footnote on time of calls.
6An emergency command call. It was to be given the most direct phone line available, taking priority over any other telephone call then being placed.
7According to Frau Rommel, the field marshal made it a habit of never showing affection and overt emotion for his wife or son when any members of his staff were present.
8“He shared the gaff.”
9Speidel was not updated yet on the attack developing against the British at Sword beach.
10Von Luck’s 125th were left on the east bank to deal with the British paratroopers.
11Anti-tank guns of British 27th Armored Brigade’s Staffordshire Yeomanry Regiment, along with several British Shermans (American-made). Von Oppeln’s PzKw IV Ausf. C and D models with their low-velocity KwK-37 75mm gun did not have the range or the penetration capabilities of the British anti-tank guns or the British Shermans (385 m/s muzzle velocity, compared to the Sherman’s 619 m/s).
12While Ryan and Mann state this time, Irving puts the time at 7:20 p.m., and Mitcham as late as 11 p.m. Irving and John Mann describe the drop as gliders, while the others refer to them as parachute drops. Actually, they are both right. Feuchtinger and von Oppeln saw parachutes. This was a pre-scheduled airborne supply drop containing canisters of supplies. The drop was merely misplaced, and landed in the wrong area. Added to this though, was another air landing spotted on Feuchtinger’s right an hour later. This second airdrop was the mislocated 230-glider contingent of the British 6th Airlanding Brigade that was reinforcing, also according to schedule, the two parachute brigades that had been dropped in the predawn hours. This force would only lose one aircraft.
Paul Carell (Sie Kommen!) later wrote the highly questionable statement that the glider drop was a deliberate move on Montgomery’s part to foil the German counterattack, and that Montgomery “…employed his glider fleet and dropped regiment after regiment of British airborne troops into the German corridor.” This was not the case. Most of the drop was made up of supplies.
13The other unit was the British 1st Airborne; Montgomery had originally wanted to drop it around Caen on June 8, but the idea was vetoed by Air Marshal Leigh-Mallory.
14Hayn was more accurate in his assessment than he knew; the 51st Highlanders were also being landed at that very moment.
15Mobile infantry brigade.
Epilogue
Field Marshal Rommel stayed up that whole night, getting updated on the military situation. He spent the next couple days trying to organize some type of counterattack against the beaches. He did not succeed. Aerial supremacy, as he had feared, became a crucial factor in the first 48 hours after the landing. Around the infuriating time of 4 p.m. on the afternoon of the 6th, Fritz Bayerlein’s Panzer Lehr Division was finally released through General Dollmann to move out. His men, having waited next to their vehicles now for over fourteen hours, were finally directed to move towards the invasion area. Unfortunately for them, the cloudy skies had cleared, and that afternoon, Allied fighters and fighter-bombers swarmed down upon Bayerlein’s columns. They became disrupted, and he lost 20 to 30 vehicles before dusk, with more damaged. Nor did it end there. Moving through the darkness, he was continually harassed by night attacks. The enemy aircraft dropped flares to see the moving columns below before they pounced. Rommel’s grim predictions were coming to pass.
And this was just the beginning. On the morning of the 7th, as their relentless march continued towards the beaches, the panzer troops suffered even more. They struggled through cratered road junctions patrolled by fighters. Delays in front of damaged bridges made them sitting ducks for the Jabos. Moving along narrow roads with trees or hedgerows on each side hindered quick dispersal, and the columns struggled moving along routes that would have been free of enemy air interdiction those first dark early morning hours of the 6th. By the end of the 7th, Bayerlein’s division had lost 40 refueling tank trucks, 70 trucks carrying men or supplies, five tanks, and over seven dozen half-tracks, prime movers, and self-propelled guns.
The 12th SS fared no better. Although a few components did arrive at the front, they did so piecemeal, and the line units for the most part had either been disrupted or disorganized from incessant aerial poundings. They would not be nearly enough to make any kind of a dent against the rapidly solidifying beachheads.
Neither panzer division was ready for any kind of a counte
rattack until the 8th—and even then, they still had units on the road as they tried to regroup for a counterattack.
The after-story revolved around four critical factors: total Allied aerial supremacy overhead and naval supremacy from the sea supporting the beachhead; a vicious, meat-grinding Materialschlacht;1 brilliant enemy deception as to if and when another—presumably the main—invasion would come; and last, the ultimate failure of the German supreme military command structure to successfully deal with the situation.
Allied airpower though, was perhaps the deciding factor. All over France, supplies and men trying to get to the front were stymied and waylaid by Allied aircraft. The air war against supply depots, bridges, road centers, and railroad marshaling yards continued. The Loire River bridges, which unlike the Seine River bridges had been relatively untouched up until now (for fear that it would tip the Allies’ hand on the landing location), were now hit full force. The air war expanded to other parts of France, Holland, and Belgium. Priority targets were any and all German units moving in columns, especially if headed towards Normandy.
The Luftwaffe, trying to keep its word, sent squadrons of aircraft west towards the front. But many of the pilots were new, and they were thrown against the masses of enemy formations piecemeal. They achieved little.
Out in the English Channel, the Kriegsmarine fared no better. All attempts to attack the amphibious force met with grave results. Torpedo boats approaching the fleet were sunk. S-boats were either turned back by aircraft, damaged, or sunk by surface craft. U-boats were hunted mercilessly as they struggled to reach the landing area, and most that survived were depth-charged several times before they could get close enough to attack.
German movement to the front continued. Some mobile units like the 2nd Panzer and the 1st SS in Belgium took far too long to reach the fighting area. The 17th SS Panzergrenadier had to move up from the Loire valley. The 2nd SS Panzer had to take a long trek from southern France to reach the landing area, while the relatively close 116th Panzer was not even committed before the first week in July. Eventually, most of the panzer divisions in France ended up at the front where they were slowly ground up on a static defense line.