The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich: A History of Nazi Germany

by William L. Shirer

  Compared to his demands of recent days, they were generous, astonishingly so. In them Hitler demanded only that Danzig be returned to Germany. The future of the Corridor would be decided by a plebiscite, and then only after a period of twelve months when tempers had calmed down. Poland would keep the port of Gdynia. Whoever received the Corridor in the plebiscite would grant the other party extraterritorial highway and railroad routes through it—this was a reversion to his “offer” of the previous spring. There was to be an exchange of populations and full rights accorded to nationals of one country in the other.

  One may speculate that had these proposals been offered seriously they would undoubtedly have formed at least the basis of negotiations between Germany and Poland and might well have spared the world its second great war in a generation. They were broadcast to the German people at 9 P.M. on August 31, eight and one half hours after Hitler had issued the final orders for the attack on Poland, and, so far as I could judge in Berlin, they succeeded in their aim of fooling the German people. They certainly fooled this writer, who was deeply impressed by their reasonableness when he heard them over the radio, and who said so in his broadcast to America on that last night of the peace.

  Henderson returned to His Majesty’s Embassy that night of August 30–31, convinced, as he later said, “that the last hope for peace had vanished.” Still, he kept trying. He roused the Polish ambassador out of bed at 2 A.M., invited him to hurry over to the embassy, gave him “an objective and studiously moderate account” of his conversation with Ribbentrop, mentioned the cession of Danzig and the plebiscite in the Corridor as the two main points in the German proposals, stated that so far as he could gather “they were not too unreasonable” and suggested that Lipski recommend to his government that they should propose at once a meeting between Field Marshals Smigly-Rydz and Goering. “I felt obliged to add,” says Henderson, “that 1 could not conceive of the success of any negotiations if they were conducted by Herr von Ribbentrop.”*62

  In the meantime the tireless Dahlerus had not been inactive. At 10 P.M. on August 29, Goering had summoned him to his home and informed him of the “unsatisfactory course” of the meeting just finished between Hitler, Ribbentrop and Henderson. The corpulent Field Marshal was in one of his hysterical moods and treated his Swedish friend to a violent outburst against the Poles and the British. Then he calmed down, assured his visitor that the Fuehrer was already at work drawing up a “magnanimous” (“grosszuegig”) offer to Poland in which the only clear-cut demand would be the return of Danzig and generously leaving the future of the Corridor to be decided by a plebiscite “under international control.” Dahlerus mildly inquired about the size of the plebiscite area, whereupon Goering tore a page out of an old atlas and with colored pencils shaded off the “Polish” and “German” parts, including in the latter not only prewar Prussian Poland but the industrial city of Lódź, which was sixty miles east of the 1914 frontier. The Swedish interloper could not help but notice the “rapidity and the recklessness” with which such important decisions were made in the Third Reich. However, he agreed to Goering’s request that he fly immediately back to London, emphasize to the British government that Hitler still wanted peace and hint that as proof of it the Fuehrer was already drawing up a most generous offer to Poland.

  Dahlerus, who seems to have been incapable of fatigue, flew off to London at 4 A.M. August 30 and, changing cars several times on the drive in from Heston to the city to throw the newspaper reporters off the track (apparently no journalist even knew of his existence), arrived at Downing Street at 10:30 A.M., where he was immediately received by Chamberlain, Halifax, Wilson and Cadogan.

  But by now the three British architects of Munich (Cadogan, a permanent Foreign Office official, had always been impervious to Nazi charms) could no longer be taken in by Hitler and Goering, nor were they much impressed by Dahlerus’ efforts. The well-meaning Swede found them “highly mistrustful” of both Nazi leaders and “inclined to assume that nothing would now prevent Hitler from declaring war on Poland.” Moreover, the British government, it was made plain to the Swedish mediator, had not fallen for Hitler’s trickery in demanding that a Polish plenipotentiary show up in Berlin within twenty-four hours.

  But Dahlerus, like Henderson in Berlin, kept on trying. He telephoned Goering in Berlin, suggested that the Polish–German delegates meet “outside Germany” and received the summary answer that “Hitler was in Berlin” and the meeting would have to take place there.

  So the Swedish go-between accomplished nothing by this flight. By midnight he was back in Berlin, where, it must be said, he had another opportunity to be at least helpful. He reached Goering’s headquarters at half past midnight to find the Luftwaffe chief once more in an expansive mood. The Fuehrer, said Goering, had just handed Henderson through Ribbentrop a “democratic, fair and workable offer” to Poland. Dahlerus, who seems to have been sobered by his meeting in Downing Street, called up Forbes at the British Embassy to check and learned that Ribbentrop had “gabbled” the terms so fast that Henderson had not been able to fully grasp them and that the ambassador had been refused a copy of the text. Dahlerus says he told Goering that this was no way “to treat the ambassador of an empire like Great Britain” and suggested that the Field Marshal, who had a copy of the sixteen points, permit him to telephone the text to the British Embassy. After some hesitation Goering acquiesced.*

  In such a way, at the instigation of an unknown Swedish businessman in connivance with the chief of the Air Force, were Hitler and Ribbentrop circumvented and the British informed of the German “proposals” to Poland. Perhaps by this time the Field Marshal, who was by no means unintelligent or inexperienced in the handling of foreign affairs, saw more quickly than the Fuehrer and his fawning Foreign Minister certain advantages which might be gained by finally letting the British in on the secret.

  To make doubly sure that Henderson got it correctly, Goering dispatched Dahlerus to the British Embassy at 10 A.M. of Thursday, August 31, with a typed copy of the sixteen points. Henderson was still trying to persuade the Polish ambassador to establish the “desired contact” with the Germans. At 8 A.M. he had once more urged this on Lipski, this time over the telephone, warning him that unless Poland acted by noon there would be war.† Shortly after Dahlerus had arrived with the text of the German proposals, Henderson dispatched him, along with Forbes, to the Polish Embassy. Lipski, who had never heard of Dahlerus, was somewhat confused at meeting the Swede—he was by this time, like most of the key diplomats in Berlin, strained and dead tired—and became irritated when Dahlerus urged him to go immediately to Goering and accept the Fuehrer’s offer. Requesting the Swede to dictate the sixteen points to a secretary in an adjoining room, he expressed his annoyance to Forbes for bringing in a “stranger” at this late date on so serious a matter. The harassed Polish ambassador must have been depressed too at the pressure which Henderson was bringing on him and his government to negotiate immediately on the basis of an offer which he had just received quite unofficially and surreptitiously, but which the British envoy, as he had told Lipski the night before, thought was not “on the whole too unreasonable.”* He did not know that Henderson’s view was not endorsed by Downing Street. What he did know was that he had no intention of taking the advice of an unknown Swede, even though he had been sent to him by the British ambassador, and of going to Goering to accept Hitler’s “offer,” even if he had been empowered to do so, which he was not.†

  THE LAST DAY OF PEACE

  Having got the Germans and Poles to agree to direct negotiations, as they thought, the British and French governments, though highly skeptical of Hitler, had concentrated their efforts on trying to bring such talks about. In this Britain took the lead, supported diplomatically in Berlin and especially in Warsaw by France. Although the British did not advise the Poles to accept Hitler’s ultimatum and fetch an emissary with full powers to Berlin on August 30, holding that such a demand was, as Halifax had wired Henderson
, “wholly unreasonable,” they did urge Colonel Beck to declare that he was prepared to negotiate with Berlin “without delay.” This was the substance of a message which Halifax got off to his ambassador in Warsaw late on the night of August 30. Kennard was to inform Beck of the contents of the British note to Germany which Henderson was presenting to Ribbentrop, assure him that Britain would stand by its commitments to Poland, but stress the importance of Poland’s agreeing to direct discussions with Germany at once.

  We regard it as most important [Halifax telegraphed] from the point of view of the internal situation in Germany and of world opinion that, so long as the German Government profess themselves ready to negotiate, no opportunity should be given them for placing the blame for a conflict on Poland.67

  Kennard saw Beck at midnight and the Polish Foreign Minister promised to consult his government and give him a “considered reply” by midday on August 31. Kennard’s dispatch describing this interview reached the British Foreign Office at 8 A.M. and Halifax was not entirely satisfied with it. At noon—it was now the last day of August—he wired Kennard that he should “concert” with his French colleague in Warsaw (Léon Nöel, the French ambassador) and suggest to the Polish government

  that they should now make known to the German Government, preferably direct, but if not, through us, that they have been made aware of our last reply to German Government and that they confirm their acceptance of the principle of direct discussions.

  French Government fear that German Government might take advantage of silence on part of Polish Government.68

  Lord Halifax was still uneasy about his Polish allies, and less than two hours later, at 1:45 P.M., he again wired Kennard:

  Please at once inform Polish Government and advise them, in view of fact that they have accepted principle of direct discussions, immediately to instruct Polish Ambassador in Berlin to say to German Government that, if latter have any proposals, he is ready to transmit them to his Government so that they may at once consider them and make suggestions for early discussions.69

  But shortly before this telegram was dispatched, Beck, in response to the démarche of the midnight before, had already informed the British ambassador in a written note that the Polish government “confirm their readiness … for a direct exchange of views with the German Government” and had orally assured him that he was instructing Lipski to seek an interview with Ribbentrop to say that “Poland had accepted the British proposals.” When Kennard asked Beck what Lipski would do if Ribbentrop handed over the German proposals, the Foreign Minister replied that his ambassador in Berlin would not be authorized to accept them as, “in view of past experience, it might be accompanied by some sort of an ultimatum.” The important thing, said Beck, was to re-establish contact “and then details should be discussed as to where, with whom and on what basis negotiations should be commenced.” In the light of the “past experience” which the once pro-Nazi Polish Foreign Minister mentioned, this was not an unreasonable view. Beck added, Kennard wired London, that “if invited to go to Berlin he would of course not go, as he had no intention of being treated like President Hácha.”70

  Actually Beck did not send to Lipski quite those instructions. Instead of saying that Poland “accepted” the British proposals, Lipski was told to tell the Germans that Poland “was favorably considering” the British suggestions and would make a formal reply “during the next few hours at the latest.”

  There was more to Beck’s instructions to Lipski than that and the Germans, having solved the Polish ciphers, knew it.

  For a simple and good reason that will soon become apparent, the Germans were not anxious to receive the Polish ambassador in Berlin. It was too late. At 1 P.M., a few minutes after he had received his telegraphic instructions from Warsaw, Lipski requested an interview with Ribbentrop for the purpose of presenting a communication from his government. After cooling his heels for a couple of hours he received a telephone call from Weizsaecker asking, on behalf of the German Foreign Minister, whether he was coming as an emissary with full power “or in some other capacity.”

  “I replied,” Lipski reported later in his final report,71 “that I was asking for an interview as Ambassador, to present a declaration from my Government.”

  Another long wait followed. At 5 P.M. Attolico called on Ribbentrop and communicated the “urgent desire of the Duce” that the Fuehrer should receive Lipski “to establish in this way at least the minimum contact necessary for the avoidance of a final breach.” The German Foreign Minister promised to “transmit” the Duce’s wishes to the Fuehrer.72

  This was not the first call the Italian ambassador had made in the Wilhelmstrasse on this last day of August in order to try to save the peace. At 9 that morning Attolico had advised Rome that the situation was “desperate” and that unless “something new comes up there will be war in a few hours.” In Rome Mussolini and Ciano put their heads together to find something new. The first result was that Ciano telephoned Halifax to say that Mussolini could not intervene unless he were able to produce for Hitler a “fat prize: Danzig.” The British Foreign Secretary did not rise to the bait. He told Ciano the first thing to be done was to establish direct contact between the Germans and the Poles through Lipski.

  Thus at 11:30 A.M. Attolico saw Weizsaecker at the German Foreign Office and apprised him that Mussolini was in contact with London and had suggested the return of Danzig as a first step toward a German–Polish settlement, and that the Duce needed a certain “margin of time” to perfect his plan for peace. In the meantime, couldn’t the German government receive Lipski?

  Lipski was received by Ribbentrop at 6:15 P.M., more than five hours after he had requested the interview. It did not last long. The ambassador, despite his fatigue and his worn nerves, behaved with dignity. He read to the Nazi Foreign Minister a written communication.

  Last night the Polish Government were informed by the British Government of an exchange of views with the Reich Government as to a possibility of direct negotiations between the Polish and German Governments.

  The Polish Government are favorably considering the British Government’s suggestion, and will make them a formal reply on the subject during the next few hours.

  “I added,” said Lipski later, “that I had been trying to present this declaration since 1 P.M.” When Ribbentrop asked him whether he had come as an emissary empowered to negotiate, the ambassador replied that, “for the time being,” he had only been instructed to remit the communication which he had just read, whereupon he handed it to the Foreign Minister. He had expected, Ribbentrop said, that Lipski would come as a “fully empowered delegate,” and when the ambassador again declared that he had no such role he was dismissed. Ribbentrop said he would inform the Fuehrer.73

  “On my return to the embassy,” Lipski later related, “I found myself unable to communicate with Warsaw, as the Germans had cut my telephone.”

  The questions of Weizsaecker and Ribbentrop as to the ambassador’s status as a negotiator were purely formal, with an eye, no doubt, for the record, for ever since noon, when Lipski’s communication had been received by telegram from Warsaw, the Germans had known that he was not coming, as they had demanded, as a plenipotentiary. They had decoded the telegram immediately. A copy had been sent to Goering, who showed it to Dahlerus and instructed him to take it posthaste to Henderson so that the British government, as the Field Marshal later explained on the stand at Nuremberg, “should find out as quickly as possible how intransigent the Polish attitude was.” Goering read to the tribunal the secret instructions to Lipski, which were that the ambassador should refrain from conducting official negotiations “under any circumstances” and should insist that he had “no plenipotentiary powers” and that he was merely empowered to deliver the official communication of his government. In his testimony, the Field Marshal made much of this during his vain effort to convince the Nuremberg judges that Poland had “sabotaged” Hitler’s last bid for peace and that, as he said, he,
Goering, did not want war and had done everything he could to prevent it. But Goering’s veracity was only a shade above Ribbentrop’s and one example of this was his further assertion to the court that only after Lipski’s visit to the Wilhelmstrasse at 6:15 P.M. on August 31 did Hitler decide “on invasion the next day.”

  The truth was quite otherwise. In fact, all these scrambling eleventh-hour moves of the weary and exhausted diplomats, and of the overwrought men who directed them on the afternoon and evening of that last day of August 1939, were but a flailing of the air, completely futile, and, in the case of the Germans, entirely and purposely deceptive.

  For at half after noon on August 31, before Lord Halifax had urged the Poles to be more accommodating and before Lipski had called on Ribbentrop and before the Germans had made publicly known their “generous” proposals to Poland and before Mussolini had tried to intervene, Adolf Hitler had taken his final decision and issued the decisive order that was to throw the planet into its bloodiest war.