Hans Von Luck - Panzer Commander

by Unknown

  We were delighted to see the Wehrmacht expand, and failed to notice the clouds that were gathering over Germany. On brief missions to Berlin we were naturally aware of the change since Hitler had come to power, but Berlin was still the cultural center and offered all the diversions one could wish for.

  At the beginning of June 1934, rumors were circulating about high-handed actions by Roehm and some other senior SA leaders.

  A power struggle set in between the SA and the SS, and between the SA and the Wehrmacht. In the middle of June we were put on alert and received secret orders to march on call to Stettin, the provincial capital, to arrest the SA leadership there-by force if necessary.

  On 30 June 1934, the “Roehm coup” began. We marched to Stettin.

  In a lightning action and on flimsy grounds, Roehm and a series of senior SA leaders were arrested and shot.

  With President Hindenburg's death and the final takeover of The Reichswehr and My Teacher, Rommel 17 supreme power by Hitler and his party, our situation changed, though at first this was scarcely perceptible. The SA (Sturmabteilung, or storm troops), with the former Captain Ernst Roehm at its head, seemed to be trying to build up a “second force” alongside the Wehrmacht.

  The SS (Schutzstaffel, or bodyguard) began to arm itself in secret and to create with the Gestapo an instrument that was to become far more dangerous than the SA and the other Nazi organizations.

  With that the coup was over. The SA and other Nazi organizations were tamed and remained so, and no longer represented any danger to the Wehrmacht. We were pleased at this development and never suspected that in the end the SS would emerge as victor from this power struggle even over the Wehrmacht.

  The Buildup of the Wehrmacht, Hitler, at first, met with much approval among the population.

  He managed, after all, to take more than 6 million unemployed off the streets. He built highways and introduced Reichsarbeitsdienst (“National Labor Service”). The Rheinland, occupied by the Allies, was taken over without bloodshed. We felt it was right to lock up the militant Communists, in the course of which the expression “concentration camp” was not yet used. The revocation of the Treaty of Versailles and Germany's withdrawal from the League of Nations seemed lawful and restored national consciousness to the German people. Only a few realized in all this that the highways were laid out on strictly strategic principles and that the Labor Service was a transparent paramilitary organization.

  The advantages and disadvantages of having kept the Reichswehr nonpolitical began to appear. We simply did not understand the correlation of events. If, for instance, the leadership of the Wehrmacht had recognized Hitler's aims, the Roehm coup would have been the opportunity to put him back in his place and to demand that the SA and the SS be incorporated in the National Socialist Party as unarmed units. Hitler, however, had seen the danger that could arise from an overpowerful Wehrmacht, and in due time had placed at its head, and the head of its branches, leaders who were acceptable and loyal to him. General Werner von Blomberg, whom we called the “rubber lion” because he was always giving in to Hitler's whims, became commander in chief, and Goering became head of the air force.

  The “case” of Colonel-General Werner von Fritsch shows this most clearly. Fritsch was indeed a strong personality who would have asserted himself, we hoped, against Hitler and his SA and SS; but in 1938 he was denounced for supposed homosexual tendencies and degraded to captain. He was killed leading an artillery regiment in the Polish campaign of 1939. Unfortunately it became apparent only afterward that the accusations were entirely without truth. It was macabre that Fritsch was then buried with the highest military honors, since he had been killed in action.

  His successor, Colonel-General Walter von Brauchitsch, was The Buildup of the Wc-hrmacht, 1934-1939 19 also too conservative and anti-Nazi for Hitler. He, and von Blomberg also, were replaced in the following years. The purging of the Wehrmacht leadership began as early as 1934, with the liquidation of General Kurt von Schleicher and the SA officers on the occasion of the “Night of the Long Knives.” Before 1933 Schleicher had been chancellor for a short time and had seemed to Hitler extremely suspect.

  The “Thousand-Year Reich” had begun.

  We did not realize that we had become an instrument of Hitler's policy and had to watch as the churches and the Jews were attacked. Fascinated by Hitler's charisma and his “achievements,” young men thronged into the Wehrmacht. Most of them came from the Hitler Youth movement or the Labor Service.

  Denunciations were the order of the day; officers were betrayed by their recruits, parents by their children, the moment they uttered any criticism of Hitler or the party.

  How could a people from whom a Goethe and a Beethoven had sprung become blind slaves of such a leader and fall into hysteria whenever he made a speech, as for instance at the Berlin sports stadium? I believe all people are ready to follow idols and ideals if They become sufficiently emotionalized. Though every epoch brings forth its own idols, the people who 6geer them remain the same.

  In 1936 I was transferred from Kolberg to Berlin, or more precisely, to Potsdam, the city packed with tradition on the edge of Berlin.

  The 8th Armored Reconnaissance Battalion, the third company in which I became a platoon leader, was based in barracks opposite those of the guards. The whole of Potsdam breathed the spirit of Frederick the Great, who had built his palace of Sanssouci there.

  The father of the tank force that was now quickly building up was General Guderian. He had studied the British military writer B. H. Liddell Hart and the theories of the Frenchman Charles de Gaulle, and from them he developed the mobile tactics of the German tank force. He saw the advantage of fast and flexible units. At first he had no cooperation from many conservative generals, but we young officers were enthusiastic and felt we were the spearhead of the Wehrmacht.

  Guderian visited every single company, observed its training, and afterward discussed his ideas with its officers and NCOS.

  We realized that in addition to training, material, and modern technique, the spirit that inspired a unit also played an important part. lie first reserve officers came for training. They were for the most part men who had been in the First World War, but also included young conscripts who had ended their period of service as lieutenants of the Reserve.

  Among these was Franz von Papen, Jr., the son of the former chancellor and subsequent ambassador to Turkey. We had been born in the same year and on the same day and soon became good friends.

  The Papens lived in an imposing villa in the elegant Tiergarten district of Berlin, to which I was often invited and where I came to know some interesting people, including the French ambassador, Franqois Poncet. I also met there the daughter of the American ambassador, who was known to have a soft spot for the Russian diplomat.

  For me the transfer to Potsdam was fascinating, since I now had the chance of frequent visits to my beloved Berlin. I had already spent three months there in 1932 and had many friends and relations in the city. Berlin, the “cozy” capital of Europe, with its continental climate and its quick-witted people-what more could a young man want?

  Theaters, opera houses, renowned artists, couturiers, and newspaper publishers set their mark on this city. German Jews, many of them veterans of the First World War, who were often more German than the Germans, played a leading part in the cultural and economic life of Berlin. When many of them had to flee from Hitler and others disappeared into concentration camps, Berlin became the poorer.

  I used to have supper, two sandwiches and a soda from the slot machine, in a snack bar called Quick on the Kurfurstendamm for a total of one mark. At the Majowsky bar I would pay 70 pfennigs for one curacao and nurse it for the whole evening. The Majowsky was the meeting place of former airmen, such as the stunt flier Udet and the later Air Marshal Erhard Milch, who often bought us poor lieutenants a drink.

  I felt happiest in a little pub on the Spittelmarkt, the rendezvous of the Berlin taxi drivers, who drank a quic
k beer there between fares. The Berlin taxi drivers were famous for their humor and ready wit. I would have exchanged any cabaret performance for their stories of experiences with their fares.

  Our training was very intensive and concentrated on two things.

  On the one hand we were made familiar with the technology and The Buildup of the Wehrmacht, 1934-1939 21 the armaments; on the other we practiced mobile engagements in the field.

  My motorcycle escort company, the motorized infantry for the two armored reconnaissance companies, was equipped with the superb BMW 500 machines. They were fitted for the most part with sidecars, which later were even driven via a differential. We slowly developed into true artists on the motorcycle. We drove, also by night, through difficult sandy and wooded terrain and on “open days” were allowed to display our stunts to the public, as for instance a long jump with the motorcycle, for which one of my NCOS held the record at 16 meters. We formed ourselves into a pyramid, in which up to 12 men stood on a single machine, and one number was the “remote-controlled motorcycle.” In this a man lay out of sight in the sidecar and from there steered the machine with cables. We were also allowed to take part in official cross-country events. I was on the move every weekend for motorcycle sport (similar to modern rally). At first I drove solo, then with a sidecar, in which I was once going along with my codriver when it so happened that a tree came exactiv between the motorcycle and the sidecar. I then had to take a rest for some weeks with a dislocated collarbone. We learned to master our equipment to such effect that we were able to shoot while going along in the field with a machine-gun mounted on the sidecar. In the end I switched to sports cars, which were made available to us, for a team of three, by a motor firm.

  New tank units were being formed. Therefore, I was transferred in October 1938 to Bad Kissingen, a spa and health resort near the cathedral city of Wuerzburg, in north Bavaria. After its preceding spa season, Kissingen had already gone into hibernation, so we were very welcome as an enlivening element.

  Our first experience was gruesome for us all. It occurred during a night in November, the Kristallnacht (Night of the Broken Glass), shameful for the whole of Germany. Heinrich Himmler, his SS, and the SA had taken the murder of a German attach6 in Paris by a young Jew as the occasion to destroy and set on fire Jewish synagogues and businesses throughout Germany, Once again the leadership of th Wehrmacht did not intervene.

  Hitler had already been able to secure his regime, and surround himself with generals agreeable to him, so that all we could do, operating at the base, was to distance ourselves from these machinations.

  The question is still asked today, both at home and abroad, why the Wehrmacht, and especially its officer corps and the generals, failed to confront the gathering strength of National Socialism in good time and put an end, or at least set limits, to its cadres and Hitler's dangerous “playing with fire.” There were, in my view, the following reasons: The army of 100,000 men to which we were entitled under the Treaty of Versailles was deliberately trained to be nonpolitical.

  As a result, the officer corps lacked perspective.

  Hitler's initial successes (the elimination of unemployment and the Communist threat, as well as the repatriation of former German territories to the Greater German Reich) restored self-confidence to the German people and their growing Wehrmacht.

  The young people who were called up for military service were recruited mainly from the Hitler Youth and other National Socialist organizations and were correspondingly motivated, if not fanaticized.

  Most decisively, it seems to me: the oath of allegiance was the creed of the officer corps. Hitler knew this and exploited it shamelessly!

  Thus the year 1934 became a turning point. The Wehrmacht came to be abused as a political power factor. After Hindenburg's death, the office of president which he had held was merged with that of chancellor under Hitler. With that the German people, and especially the Wehrmacht, lost its symbolic figure, who was required to stand outside and above politics. On the strength of his personality Hindenburg, or a possible successor of symbolic stature, might have been able to block questionable political decisions.

  In spite of many warnings from inside and outside the country, and against its better judgment, the German officer corps stood by its oath, even when that oath had eventually to be taken anew to Adolf Hitler.

  Who would have dared as an individual, in 1933 and 1934, to refuse to swear allegiance to Hitler? The military leadership alone might have been able to, had they been politically more astute and not dazzled by Hitler's personality.

  Another question that is still discussed to the present day is The Buildup of the Wehrmacht, 1934-1939 23 the attempt on Hitier's life of 20 July 1944, was not made earlierat the latest after the start of the march into Russia in 1941. On the one hand, Hitler was so heavily guarded that an attempted assassination was by no means a sure success. And on the other, the officers around Graf Stauffenberg, leader of the conspiracy, felt bound by their oath of allegiance, and it was only the dire situation after the Allied landing in 1944 that moved the group to their “act of desperation.” They were aware when they did it that a “legend” could grow up around Hitler, and also that the penalty the Allies would exact would amount to unconditional surrender. But they wanted to try to stop Hitler and avert further suffering for the German peole.

  Hans Von Luck - Panzer Commander

  Voices that even today in Germany condemn the assassination attempt as a “breach of the oath of allegiance” are to be rejected, for an oath can only be binding so long as it is compatible with the conscience of the individual and freely taken.

  Europe on the Eve of War: Travels and Experiences I longed to travel to new places. I wanted to follow the advice of my old mathematics teacher, who said to me, “Travel as often as you can, and see your homeland from outside. Make contact with people of other countries. Only then can you judge your Fatherland correctly.” In the years from 1933 to 1935, when foreign currency was still being allocated, I went to Prague and Warsaw, hence to countries in which I knew no one. Later, after 1937, when only 15 marks per journey were authorized, I visited the western and southern countries of Europe, in which I had friends and could survive quite well even with only 15 marks. My encounters with other people, other languages, and cultures confirmed my teacher's advice.

  Prague, the “Golden City,” the point of intersection of Western and Eastern culture, impressed me greatly. As did the famous spas of Karlsbad and Marienbad in all their splendor. In Warsaw in 1934 there was no indication as yet of tension. I received a visa without difficulty, although I was a young officer. Warsaw was a very Francophile city. French architects had set their mark on the urban scene with their buildings and many people with higher education spoke French. This made it easier for me to make contact with the inhabitants, and I was able to observe that the Poles had no love either for us Germans or for the Russians.

  Further trips to Scandinavia were then followed by trips to France, which quickly became familiar to me. My grandparents had a French governess, so much French was spoken in their house. It was in general considered very chic at that time to parlerfranqais. Not only the French language, but above all French savoir-vivre held a great fascination for me. The charm of the French, and especially the charm of the cosmopolitan city of Paris, were for me as a young man breathtaking. The concierges, the bistros, the yards of bread, the secondhand bookshops on the Seine, the painters on Montmartre-here was the pulse of life. One sat together over wine and discussed the world and all evil seemed so far away.

  My trips to England were also a great enrichment for me. The British probably mean even more to us northern Germans, and as a Europe on the Eve of War 25 young man I was able to learn much from their tolerance and their sense of humor. Once past the stage of small talk with them, I was impressed by their cordiality and their hospitality. What gave them their confidence, beyond their position as a world power? First of all, their long tradition and thei
r cohesion through monarchy, as well as a democracy developed over centuries.

  One little experience always stayed in my mind. A banker with bowler hat and umbrella bumped into a worker in the street.

  “Awfully sorry,” I heard the banker say, as the first to apologize. Unimaginable in Germany.

  One day at noon I was in Whitehall to watch the changing of the guard. A man in worn clothes asked me for a light.

  “Are you French? You speak with an accent.”

  “No, I come from Germany.” At that, words tumbled out.

  "I was a prisoner in Germany from 1917 to 1918. I was well placed with a farmer. Look, here's my war medal. Now I'm a Communist in this damned country that does nothing for me. I've been out of work for months-But with you? Hitler has taken the unemployed off the streets, everything is well organized, everyone can eat.,, I didn't want to be drawn into discussion. The changing of the guard came to my rescue. Cuirassiers in their glittering uniforms rode in; the whole splendor of the realm unfolded.

  “Look at that,” cried the man, now beside me and carried away with joy. He took my arm. “That's where no one can copy us British; that's our monarchy!” Venice was the dream destination of honeymoon couples, and Rome was the cultural city that everyone wanted to visit. In my classical grammar school I had read so much about Goethe's journeys to Italy that I wanted to follow in his footsteps. So in 1934, with a friend, I planned a three-week trip to Italy.

  We adapted my DKW car for sleeping, took as our main luggage enough cans of gasoline from Germany to see us at least to Rome and back, and also packed enough food to be as independent as possible.