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

by William L. Shirer

  After thirty-nine hours of war in Poland the House of Commons was in no mood for such dilatory tactics. A smell of Munich seemed to emanate from the government bench. “Speak for England!” cried Leopold Amery from the Conservative benches as the acting leader of the Labor Opposition, Arthur Greenwood, got up to talk.

  “I wonder how long we are prepared to vacillate,” said Greenwood, “at a time when Britain and all that Britain stands for, and human civilization, are in peril … We must march with the French …”

  That was the trouble. It was proving difficult at this moment to get the French to march. But so disturbed was Chamberlain at the angry mood of the House that he intervened in the sharp debate to plead that it took time to synchronize “thoughts and actions” by telephone with Paris. “I should be horrified if the House thought for one moment,” he added, “that the statement that I have made to them betrayed the slightest weakening either of this Government or of the French Government.” He said he understood the French government was “in session at this moment” and that a communication would be received from it “in the next few hours.” At any rate, he tried to assure the aroused members, “I anticipate that there is only one answer I shall be able to give the House tomorrow … and I trust the House … will believe me that I speak in complete good faith …”

  The inexorable approach of the greatest ordeal in British history was announced, as Namier later wrote, “in a singularly halting manner.”

  Chamberlain well understood, as the confidential British papers make clear, that he was in deep trouble with his own people and that at this critical moment for his country his own government was in danger of being overthrown.

  As soon as he left the Commons he rang up Daladier. The time is recorded as 9:50 P.M. and Cadogan, listening in, made a minute of it for the record.

  CHAMBERLAIN: The situation here is very grave … There has been an angry scene in the House … if France were to insist on forty-eight hours to run from midday tomorrow, it would be impossible for the Government to hold the situation here.

  The Prime Minister said he quite realized that it is France who must bear the burden of a German attack. But he was convinced some step must be taken this evening.

  He proposed a compromise … An ultimatum at 8 A.M. tomorrow … expiring at noon….

  Daladier replied that unless British bombers were ready to act at once it would be better for French to delay, if possible, for some hours attacks on German armies.

  Less than an hour later, at 10:30 P.M., Halifax rang up Bonnet. He urged the French to agree to the British compromise, an ultimatum to be presented in Berlin at 8 A.M. on the morrow (September 3) and to expire at noon. The French Foreign Minister not only would not agree, he protested to Halifax that the British insistence on such speed would create a “deplorable impression.” He demanded that London wait at least until noon before presenting any ultimatum to Hitler.

  HALIFAX: It is impossible for H. M. Government to wait until that hour … It is very doubtful whether the [British] Government could hold the position here.

  The House of Commons was to meet at noon, on Sunday, September 3, and it was obvious to Chamberlain and Halifax from the mood of Saturday evening’s session that in order to survive they would have to give Parliament the answer it demanded. At 2 o’clock the next morning the French ambassador in London, Corbin, warned Bonnet that the Chamberlain cabinet risked overthrow if it could not give Parliament definite word. Halifax, at the close of his telephone conversation with Bonnet, therefore informed him that Britain proposed “to act on its own.”

  The telegram of Halifax to Henderson reached Berlin about 4 A.M.* The communication he was to make to the German government at 9 A.M. on Sunday, September 3, recalled the British note of September 1 in which Great Britain declared its intention of fulfilling its obligations to Poland unless German troops were promptly withdrawn.

  Although this communication [it continued] was made more than 24 hours ago, no reply has been received but German attacks upon Poland have been continued and intensified. I have accordingly the honor to inform you that, unless not later than 11 A.M., British summer time, today September 3, satisfactory assurances to the above effect have been given by the German Government and have reached His Majesty’s Government in London, a state of war will exist between the two countries as from that hour.26*

  In the early predawn Sabbath hours Henderson found it difficult to make contact with the Wilhelmstrasse. He was told that Ribbentrop would not be “available” at 9 A.M. on the Sunday but that he could leave his communication with the official interpreter, Dr. Schmidt.

  On this historic day Dr. Schmidt overslept, and, rushing to the Foreign Office by taxi, he saw the British ambassador already mounting the steps to the Foreign Office as he arrived. Ducking in by a side door, Schmidt managed to slip into Ribbentrop’s office just at the stroke of 9 o’clock, in time to receive Henderson on the dot. “He came in looking very serious,” Schmidt later recounted, “shook hands, but declined my invitation to be seated, remaining solemnly standing in the middle of the room.”28 He read out the British ultimatum, handed Schmidt a copy, and bade him goodby.

  The official interpreter hastened down the Wilhelmstrasse to the Chancellery with the document. Outside the Fuehrer’s office he found most members of the cabinet and several ranking party officials collected about and “anxiously awaiting” his news.

  When I entered the next room [Schmidt later recounted] Hitler was sitting at his desk and Ribbentrop stood by the window. Both looked up expectantly as I came in. I stopped at some distance from Hitler’s desk, and then slowly translated the British ultimatum. When I finished there was complete silence.

  Hitler sat immobile, gazing before him … After an interval which seemed an age, he turned to Ribbentrop, who had remained standing by the window. “What now?” asked Hitler with a savage look, as though implying that his Foreign Minister had misled him about England’s probable reaction.

  Ribbentrop answered quietly: “I assume that the French will hand in a similar ultimatum within the hour.”29

  His duty performed, Schmidt withdrew, stopping in the outer room to apprise the others of what had happened. They too were silent for a moment. Then:

  Goering turned to me and said: “If we lose this war, then God have mercy on us!”

  Goebbels stood in a corner by himself, downcast and self-absorbed. Everywhere in the room I saw looks of grave concern.30

  In the meantime the inimitable Dahlerus had been making his last amateurish effort to avoid the inevitable. At 8 A.M. Forbes had informed him of the British ultimatum which was being presented an hour later. He hastened out to Luftwaffe headquarters to see Goering and, according to his later account on the stand at Nuremberg, appealed to him to see to it that the German reply to the ultimatum was “reasonable.” He further suggested that the Field Marshal himself, before 11 o’clock, declare himself prepared to fly to London “to negotiate.” In his book the Swedish businessman claims that Goering accepted the suggestion and telephoned to Hitler, who also agreed. There is no mention of this in the German papers, and Dr. Schmidt makes it clear that Goering, a few minutes after 9 o’clock, was not at his headquarters but at the Chancellery in the Fuehrer’s anteroom.

  At any rate, there is no doubt that the Swedish intermediary telephoned the British Foreign Office—not once but twice. In the first call, at 10:15 A.M., he took it upon himself to inform the British government that the German reply to its ultimatum was “on the way” and that the Germans were still “most anxious to satisfy the British Government and to give satisfactory assurances not to violate the independence of Poland.”(!) He hoped London would consider Hitler’s response “in the most favorable light.”31

  Half an hour later, at 10:50 A.M.—ten minutes before the ultimatum ran out—Dahlerus was once more on the long-distance line to the Foreign Office in London, this time to present his proposal that Goering, with Hitler’s assent, fly immediately to the Brit
ish capital. He did not realize that it was past time for such diplomatic antics, but he was soon made to. He was given an uncompromising answer from Halifax. His proposal could not be entertained. The German government had been asked a definite question, “and presumably they would be sending a definite answer.” H. M. Government could not wait for further discussion with Goering.32

  Whereupon Dahlerus hung up and disappeared into the limbo of history until he reappeared, briefly, after the war at Nuremberg—and in his book—to recount his bizarre attempt to save world peace.* He had meant well, he had striven for peace; for a few moments he had found himself in the center of the dazzling stage of world history. But as happened to almost everyone else, the confusion had been too great for him to see clearly; and as he would admit at Nuremberg, he had at no time realized how much he had been taken in by the Germans.

  Shortly after 11 A.M., when the time limit in the British ultimatum had run out, Ribbentrop, who had declined to see the British ambassador two hours before, sent for him in order to hand him Germany’s reply. The German government, it said, refused “to receive or accept, let alone to fulfill” the British ultimatum. There followed a lengthy and shabby propaganda statement obviously hastily concocted by Hitler and Ribbentrop during the intervening two hours. Designed to fool the easily fooled German people, it rehearsed all the lies with which we are now familiar, including the one about the Polish “attacks” on German territory, blamed Britain for all that had happened, and rejected attempts “to force Germany to recall their forces which are lined up for the defense of the Reich.” It declared, falsely, that Germany had accepted Mussolini’s eleventh-hour proposals for peace and pointed out that Britain had rejected them. And after all of Chamberlain’s appeasement of Hitler it accused the British government of “preaching the destruction and extermination of the German people.”*

  Henderson read the document (“this completely false representation of events,” as he later called it) and remarked “It would be left to history to judge where the blame really lay.” Ribbentrop retorted that “history had already proved the facts.”

  I was standing in the Wilhelmstrasse before the Chancellery about noon when the loudspeakers suddenly announced that Great Britain had declared herself at war with Germany.† Some 250 people—no more—were standing there in the sun. They listened attentively to the announcement. When it was finished, there was not a murmur. They just stood there. Stunned. It was difficult for them to comprehend that Hitler had led them into a world war.

  Soon, though it was the Sabbath, the newsboys were crying their extras. In fact, I noticed, they were giving the papers away. I took one. It was the Deutsche Allgemeine Zeitung, its headlines marching in large type across the page:

  BRITISH ULTIMATUM TURNED DOWN

  ENGLAND DECLARES A STATE OF WAR WITH GERMANY

  BRITISH NOTE DEMANDS WITHDRAWAL OF OUR TROOPS IN THE EAST

  THE FUEHRER LEAVING TODAY FOR THE FRONT

  The headline over the official account read as though it had been dictated by Ribbentrop.

  GERMAN MEMORANDUM PROVES ENGLAND’S GUILT

  “Proved” though it may have been to a people as easily swindled as the Germans, it aroused no ill feelings toward the British during the day. When I passed the British Embassy, from whose premises Henderson and his staff were moving to the Hotel Adlon around the corner, a lone Schupo paced up and down before the building. He had nothing to do but saunter back and forth.

  The French held out a little longer. Bonnet played for time until the last moment, clinging stubbornly to the hope that Mussolini might still swing a deal with Hitler which would let France off the hook. He even pleaded with the Belgian ambassador to get King Leopold to use his influence with Mussolini to influence Hitler. All day Saturday, September 2, he argued with his own cabinet, as he did with the British, that he had “promised” Ciano to wait until noon of September 3 for the German answer to the Anglo–French warning notes of September 1, and that he could not go back on his word. He had, to be sure, given this assurance to the Italian Foreign Minister over the phone—but not until 9 o’clock on the evening of September 2.* By that time the Duce’s proposal for a conference was as dead as stone, as Ciano had tried to tell him. And by that hour, too, the British were pleading with him to present a joint ultimatum to Berlin at midnight.

  Shortly before midnight on September 2, the French government finally reached a decision. At precisely midnight, Bonnet wired Coulondre at Berlin that in the morning he would forward the terms of a “new démarche” to be made “at noon to the Wilhelmstrasse.”†

  This he did, at 10:20 A.M. on Sunday, September 3—forty minutes before the British ultimatum ran out. The French ultimatum was similarly worded except that in case of a negative reply France declared that she would fulfill her obligations to Poland “which are known to the German government”—even at this final juncture Bonnet held out against a formal declaration of war.

  In the official French Yellow Book the text of the French ultimatum wired to Coulondre gives 5 P.M. as the time limit for the German response. But this was not the hour set in the original telegram. At 8:45 A.M. Ambassador Phipps had notified Halifax from Paris: “Bonnet tells me French time limit will only expire at 5 o’clock Monday morning [September 4].” That was the time given in Bonnet’s telegram.

  Though it represented a concession wrung by Daladier early Sunday morning from the French General Staff, which had insisted on a full forty-eight hours from the time the ultimatum was given Berlin at noon, it still irritated the British government, whose displeasure was communicated to Paris in no uncertain terms during the forenoon. Premier Daladier therefore made one last appeal to the military. He called in General Colston, of the General Staff, at 11:30 A.M. and urged a shorter deadline. The General reluctantly agreed to move it up by twelve hours to 5 P.M.

  Thus it was that just as Coulondre was leaving the French Embassy in Berlin for the Wilhelmstrasse, Bonnet got through to him on the telephone and instructed him to make the necessary change in the zero hour.34

  Ribbentrop was not available to the French ambassador at the noon hour. He was taking part in a little ceremony at the Chancellery, where the new Soviet ambassador, Alexander Shkvarzev, was being warmly received by the Fuehrer—an occasion that lent a bizarre note to this historic Sabbath in Berlin. Coulondre, insistent on following the letter of his instructions to call at the Wilhelmstrasse at precisely twelve noon, was therefore received by Weizsaecker. To the ambassador’s inquiry as to whether the State Secretary was empowered to give a “satisfactory” answer to the French, Weizsaecker replied that he was not in a position to give him “any kind of reply.”

  There now followed at this solemn moment a minor diplomatic comedy. When Coulondre attempted to treat Weizsaecker’s response as the negative German reply which he fully anticipated and to hand to the State Secretary France’s formal ultimatum, the latter declined to accept it. He suggested that the ambassador “be good enough to be patient a little longer and see the Foreign Minister personally.” Thus rebuffed—and not for the first time—Coulondre cooled his heels for nearly half an hour. At 12:30 P.M. he was conducted to the Chancellery to see Ribbentrop.35

  Though the Nazi Foreign Minister knew what the ambassador’s mission was, he could not let the opportunity, the very last such one, slip by without treating the French envoy to one of his customary prevarications of history. After remarking that Mussolini, in presenting his last-minute peace proposal, had emphasized that France approved it, Ribbentrop declared that “Germany had informed the Duce yesterday that she also was prepared to agree to the proposal. Later in the day,” Ribbentrop added, “the Duce reported that his proposal had been wrecked by the intransigence of the British Government.”

  But Coulondre, over the past months, had heard enough of Ribbentrop’s falsifications. After listening a little longer to the Nazi Foreign Minister, who had gone on to say that he would regret it if France followed Great Britain and that Germany ha
d no intention of attacking France, the ambassador got in the question he had come to ask: Did the Foreign Minister’s remarks mean that the response of the German government to the French communication of September 1 was negative?

  “Ja,” replied Ribbentrop.

  The ambassador then handed the Foreign Minister France’s ultimatum, prefacing it with a remark that “for the last time” he must emphasize the “heavy responsibility of the Reich Government” in attacking Poland “without a declaration of war” and in refusing the Anglo–French request that German troops be withdrawn.

  “Then France will be the aggressor,” Ribbentrop said.