The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich

by William Shirer

  * Ciano claims that the note was sent as the result of “French pressure.” (Ciano Diaries, p. 136.) But this is surely misleading. Though Bonnet was doing all he could to get a conference, Mussolini was pushing the proposal even more desperately.

  * The minutes of the meeting, drawn up by General Decamp, chief of Premier Daladier’s military cabinet, came to light at the Riom trial. The paper was never submitted to other members of the meeting for correction, and General Gamelin in his book, Servir, claims it was so abbreviated as to be misleading. Still, even the timid generalissimo confirms its main outlines.

  * In his book, Servir, Gamelin admits that he hesitated to call attention to some of France’s military weaknesses because he did not trust Bonnet. He quotes Daladier as later telling him, “You did right. If you had exposed them, the Germans would have known about them the next day.”

  Gamelin also claimed (in his book) that he did point out at this conference the weakness of France’s military position. He says he explained that if Germany “annihilated Poland” and then threw her whole weight against the French, France would be in a “difficult” situation. “In this case,” he said, “it would no longer be possible for France to enter upon the struggle … By spring, with the help of British troops and American equipment I hoped we should be in a position to fight a defensive battle (of course if necessary). I added that we could not hope for victory except in a long war. It had always been my opinion that we should not be able to assume the offensive in less than about two years … that is, in 1941–2.”

  The French generalissimo’s timid views explain a good deal of subsequent history.

  * The Foreign Secretary had sent Henderson two warning telegrams during the night. The first, dispatched at 11:50 P.M., read:

  I may have to send you instructions tonight to make an immediate communication to the German Government. Please be ready to act. You had better warn the Minister for Foreign Affairs that you may have to ask to see him at any moment.

  It would seem from this telegram that the British government had not quite made up its mind to go it alone despite the French. But thirty-five minutes later, at 12:25 A.M. on September 3, Halifax wired Henderson:

  You should ask for an appointment with M.F.A. [Minister for Foreign Affairs] at 9 A.M. Sunday morning. Instructions will follow.25

  The decisive telegram from Halifax is dated 5 A.M., London time. Henderson, in his Final Report, says he received it 4 A.M.

  * Halifax sent an additional wire, also dated 5 A.M., informing the ambassador that Coulondre “will not make a similar communication to the German Government until midday today (Sunday).” He did not know what the French time limit would be but thought it “likely” to be anything between six and nine hours.27

  * He reappeared for a moment on September 24 when he met with Forbes at Oslo “to ascertain,” as he told the Nuremberg tribunal before he was shut off, “if there was still a possibility of averting a world war.”33

  * So shoddy was this hastily prepared note that it ended with this sentence: “The intention, communicated to us by order of the British Government by Mr. King-Hall, of carrying the destruction of the German people even further than was done through the Versailles Treaty, is taken note of by us, and we shall therefore answer any aggressive action on the part of England with the same weapons and in the same form.” The British government had, of course, never presented to Germany any intentions of Stephen King-Hall, a retired naval officer, whose newsletters were a purely private venture. In fact, Henderson had protested to the Foreign Office against the circulation of King-Hall’s publication in Germany and the British government had requested the editor to desist.

  † In London at 11:15 A.M. Halifax had handed the German chargé d’affaires a formal note stating that since no German assurances had been received by 11 A.M., “I have the honor to inform you that a state of war exists between the two countries as from 11 A.M. today, September 3.”

  * See above, p. 608.

  † But even after that, it will be remembered, Bonnet made a last-minute effort to keep France out of the war by proposing, during the night, to the Italians that they get Hitler to make a “symbolic” withdrawal from Poland.

  Book Four

  WAR: EARLY VICTORIES AND THE TURNING POINT

  18

  THE FALL OF POLAND

  AT TEN O’CLOCK on the morning of September 5, 1939, General Halder had a talk with General von Brauchitsch, the Commander in Chief of the German Army, and General von Bock, who led Army Group North. After sizing up the situation as it looked to them at the beginning of the fifth day of the German attack on Poland they agreed, as Halder wrote in his diary, that “the enemy is practically beaten.”

  By the evening of the previous day the battle for the Corridor had ended with the junction of General von Kluge’s Fourth Army, pushing eastward from Pomerania, and General von Kuechler’s Third Army, driving westward from East Prussia. It was in this battle that General Heinz Guderian first made a name for himself with his tanks. At one point, racing east across the Corridor, they had been counterattacked by the Pomorska Brigade of cavalry, and this writer, coming upon the scene a few days later, saw the sickening evidence of the carnage. It was symbolic of the brief Polish campaign.

  Horses against tanks! The cavalryman’s long lance against the tank’s long cannon! Brave and valiant and foolhardy though they were, the Poles were simply overwhelmed by the German onslaught. This was their—and the world’s—first experience of the blitzkrieg: the sudden surprise attack; the fighter planes and bombers roaring overhead, reconnoitering, attacking, spreading flame and terror; the Stukas screaming as they dove; the tanks, whole divisions of them, breaking through and thrusting forward thirty or forty miles in a day; self-propelled, rapid-firing heavy guns rolling forty miles an hour down even the rutty Polish roads; the incredible speed of even the infantry, of the whole vast army of a million and a half men on motorized wheels, directed and co-ordinated through a maze of electronic communications consisting of intricate radio, telephone and telegraphic networks. This was a monstrous mechanized juggernaut such as the earth had never seen.

  Within forty-eight hours the Polish Air Force was destroyed, most of its five hundred first-line planes having been blown up by German bombing on their home airfields before they could take off. Installations were burned and most of the ground crews were killed or wounded. Cracow, the second city of Poland, fell on September 6. That night the Polish government fled from Warsaw to Lublin. The next day Halder busied himself with plans to begin transferring troops to the Western front, though he could detect no activity there. On the afternoon of September 8 the 4th Panzer Division reached the outskirts of the Polish capital, while directly south of the city, rolling up from Silesia and Slovakia, Reichenau’s Tenth Army captured Kielce and List’s Fourteenth Army arrived at Sandomierz, at the junction of the Vistula and San rivers.

  In one week the Polish Army had been vanquished. Most of its thirty-five divisions—all that there had been time to mobilize—had been either shattered or caught in a vast pincers movement that closed in around Warsaw. There now remained for the Germans the “second phase”: tightening the noose around the dazed and disorganized Polish units which were surrounded and destroying them, and completing a second and larger pincers movement a hundred miles to the east which would trap the remaining Polish formations west of Brest Litovsk and the River Bug.

  This phase began September 9 and ended on September 17. The left wing of Bock’s Army Group North headed for Brest Litovsk, which Guderian’s XIXth Corps reached on the fourteenth and captured two days later. On September 17 it met patrols of List’s Fourteenth Army fifty miles south of Brest Litovsk at Wlodawa, closing the second great pincers there. The “counterattack,” as Guderian later observed, had come to a “definite conclusion” on September 17. All Polish forces, except for a handful on the Russian border, were surrounded. Pockets of Polish troops in the Warsaw triangle and farther west near Posen held
out valiantly, but they were doomed. The Polish government, or what was left of it, after being unceasingly bombed and strafed by the Luftwaffe reached a village on the Rumanian frontier on the fifteenth. For it and the proud nation all was over, except the dying in the ranks of the units which still, with incredible fortitude, held out.

  It was now time for the Russians to move in on the stricken country to grab a share of the spoils.

  THE RUSSIANS INVADE POLAND

  The Kremlin in Moscow, like every other seat of government, had been taken by surprise at the rapidity with which the German armies hurtled through Poland. On September 5 Molotov, in giving a formal written reply to the Nazi suggestion that Russia attack Poland from the east, stated that this would be done “at a suitable time” but that “this time has not yet come.” He thought that “excessive haste” might injure the Soviet “cause” but he insisted that even though the Germans got there first they must scrupulously observe the “line of demarcation” in Poland agreed upon in the secret clauses of the Nazi–Soviet Pact.1 Russian suspicion of the Germans was already evident. So was the feeling in the Kremlin that the German conquest of Poland might take quite a long time.

  But shortly after midnight of September 8, after a German armored division had reached the outskirts of Warsaw, Ribbentrop wired “urgent” a “top secret” message to Schulenburg in Moscow stating that operations in Poland were “progressing even beyond our expectations” and that in these circumstances Germany would like to know the “military intentions of the Soviet Government.”2 By 4:10 P.M. the next day Molotov had replied that Russia would move militarily “within the next few days.” Earlier in the day the Soviet Foreign Commissar had officially congratulated the Germans “on the entry of German troops into Warsaw.”3

  On September 10, Molotov and Ambassador von der Schulenburg got into a fine snafu. After declaring that the Soviet government had been taken “completely by surprise by the unexpectedly rapid German military successes” and that the Soviet Union was consequently in “a difficult situation,” the Foreign Commissar touched on the excuse which the Kremlin would have to give for its own aggression in Poland. This was, as Schulenburg wired Berlin “most urgent” and “top secret,”

  that Poland was falling apart and that it was necessary for the Soviet Union, in consequence, to come to the aid of the Ukrainians and the White Russians “threatened” by Germany. This argument [said Molotov] was necessary to make the intervention of the Soviet Union plausible to the masses and at the same time avoid giving the Soviet Union the appearance of an aggressor.

  Furthermore, Molotov complained that General von Brauchitsch had just been quoted by D.N.B, as saying that “military action was no longer necessary on the German eastern border.” If that were so, if the war was over, Russia, said Molotov, “could not start a new war.” He was very displeased about the whole situation.4 To further complicate matters he summoned Schulenburg to the Kremlin on September 14 and after informing him that the Red Army would march sooner than they had anticipated demanded to know when Warsaw would fall. In order to justify their move the Russians must wait on the capture of the Polish capital.5

  The Commissar had raised some embarrassing questions. When would Warsaw fall? How did the Germans like being blamed for Russian intervention? On the evening of September 15 Ribbentrop dispatched a “most urgent,” a “top secret” message to Molotov through the German ambassador, answering them. Warsaw, he said, would be occupied “in the next few days.” Germany would “welcome the Soviet military operation now.” As to the Russian excuse blaming Germany for it, this “was out of the question … contrary to the true German intentions … would be in contradiction to the arrangements made in Moscow and finally … would make the two States appear as enemies before the whole world.” He ended by asking the Soviet government to set “the day and the hour” for their attack on Poland.6

  This was done the next evening and two dispatches of Schulenburg, which are among the captured German papers, telling how it was done give a revealing picture of the Kremlin’s deceit.

  I saw Molotov at 6 P.M. [Schulenburg wired on September 16]. Molotov declared that military intervention by the Soviet Union was imminent—perhaps even tomorrow or the day after. Stalin was at present in consultation with the military leaders …

  Molotov added that … the Soviet Government intended to justify its procedure as follows: The Polish State had disintegrated and no longer existed; therefore, all agreements concluded with Poland were void: third powers might try to profit by the chaos which had arisen; the Soviet Government considered itself obligated to intervene to protect its Ukrainian and White Russian brothers and make it possible for these unfortunate people to work in peace.

  Since Germany could be the only possible “third power” in question, Schulenburg objected.

  Molotov conceded that the proposed argument of the Soviet Government contained a note that was jarring to German sensibilities but asked us in view of the difficult situation of the Soviet Government not to stumble over this piece of straw. The Soviet Government unfortunately saw no possibility of any other motivation, since the Soviet Union had heretofore not bothered about the plight of its minorities in Poland and had to justify abroad, in some way or other, its present intervention.7

  At 5:20 P.M. on September 17, Schulenburg got off another “most urgent” and “top secret” wire to Berlin.

  Stalin received me at 2 o’clock … and declared that the Red Army would cross the Soviet border at 6 o’clock … Soviet planes would begin today to bomb the district east of Lwów (Lemberg).

  When Schulenburg objected to three points in the Soviet communiqué the Russian dictator “with the utmost readiness” altered the text.8

  Thus it was that on the shabby pretext that because Poland had ceased to exist and therefore the Polish–Soviet nonaggression pact had also ceased to exist and because it was necessary to protect its own interests and those of the Ukrainian and White Russian minorities, the Soviet Union trampled over a prostrate Poland beginning on the morning of September 17. To add insult to injury the Polish ambassador in Moscow was informed that Russia would maintain strict neutrality in the Polish conflict! The next day, September 18, Soviet troops met the Germans at Brest Litovsk, where exactly twenty-one years before a newborn Bolshevik government had gone back on its country’s ties with the Western Allies and had received from the German Army, and accepted, separate peace terms of great harshness.

  And yet though they were now accomplices of Nazi Germany in wiping ancient Poland off the map, the Russians were at once distrustful of their new comrades. At his meeting with the German ambassador on the eve of the Soviet aggression, Stalin had expressed his doubts, as Schulenburg duly notified Berlin, whether the German High Command would stand by the Moscow agreements and withdraw to the line that had been agreed upon. The ambassador tried to reassure him but apparently with no great success. “In view of Stalin’s well-known attitude of mistrust,” Schulenburg wired Berlin, “I would be gratified if I were authorized to make a further declaration of such a nature as to remove his last doubts.”9 The next day, September 19, Ribbentrop telegraphed the ambassador authorizing him to “tell Stalin that the agreements which I made at Moscow will, of course, be kept, and that they are regarded by us as the foundation stone of the new friendly relations between Germany and the Soviet Union.”10

  Nevertheless friction between the two unnatural partners continued. On September 17 there was disagreement over the text of a joint communiqué which would “justify” the Russo–German destruction of Poland. Stalin objected to the German version because “it presented the facts all too frankly.” Whereupon he wrote out his own version, a masterpiece of subterfuge, and forced the Germans to accept it. It stated that the joint aim of Germany and Russia was “to restore peace and order in Poland, which has been destroyed by the disintegration of the Polish State, and to help the Polish people to establish new conditions for its political life.” For cynicism Hitler h
ad met his match in Stalin.

  At first both dictators seem to have considered setting up a rump Polish state on the order of Napoleon’s Grand Duchy of Warsaw in order to mollify world public opinion. But on September 19 Molotov disclosed that the Bolsheviks were having second thoughts on that. After angrily protesting to Schulenburg that the German generals were disregarding the Moscow agreement by trying to grab territory that should go to Russia, he came to the main point.

  Molotov hinted [Schulenburg wired Berlin] that the original inclination entertained by the Soviet Government and Stalin personally to permit the existence of a residual Poland had given way to the inclination to partition Poland along the Pissa–Narew–Vistula–San Line. The Soviet Government wishes to commence negotiations on this matter at once.11