by Matthew Cobb
Even so, the fighting in the neighbourhood was not over. As the Germans were leaving the bunker, their hands held high, one of them threw an incendiary grenade at the French troops, injuring two men.58 A few minutes later, at the place de l’Etoile, there was a similar incident, with even more tragic consequences. Infantryman Jacques Desbordes was crouching behind a tree at the end of the avenue de Wagram when German prisoners marched around the Arc de Triomphe, escorted by a group of 2e DB soldiers, including Colonel de Langlade.59 Suddenly, a smoke grenade exploded, enveloping everyone in acrid, stinging fumes. In the chaos, a machine gun began firing into the grey cloud and Desbordes joined in without realising it: ‘To my surprise, the sharp recoil of my rifle told me that I was firing – I couldn’t hear my shots because of the amazing racket. Slowly, the smoke cleared, the machine gun stopped firing and I got up . . . The machine gunner crawled forwards on my right to see what had happened. I’ll never forget his words, spoken with an accent from Bab el-Oued in Algiers: “Bummer. What a mess.”’60 Seven German soldiers lay dead or severely wounded under the bright sun. Miraculously, de Langlade and the other French soldiers were all unhurt. According to Desbordes, although stretcher-bearers took away some of the Germans, the most severely wounded were shot through the head. Desbordes felt the whole incident was a catastrophic accident – the grenade had gone off by mistake, and the 2e DB had fired in a mixture of panic and a justified reaction to prisoners who were apparently trying to escape.61 Whatever the case, seven men were needlessly dead.62
Marc Boegner witnessed a final awful incident near the Arc de Triomphe. Boegner had spent all afternoon with the massive crowd, watching the tanks of the de Langlade column chugging up the avenue Victor Hugo. In his apartment that night, Boegner recorded what he saw next: ‘On the place de l’Etoile we see prisoners being taken away. There are four soldiers, barefoot, their tunics unbuttoned, their hands behind their heads. They are taken into the middle of the place, facing down the Champs-Elysées. People scurry round, photographing them. Then something terrible happens! Because one of them had killed a French officer when they had said they were surrendering, they are all shot dead, straight away, on the corner of the avenue de Wagram.’63
This brutal killing was filmed, but the footage was not included in the newsreel that was soon shown around the world.64 According to the unbroadcast commentary, the four men were ‘Georgians’ who had been firing on the crowd from surrounding rooftops and had killed a woman and a child. The film shows that the man who mowed down the ‘Georgians’ with a spray of machine-gun fire was a 2e DB soldier.65 Why he killed the four men is not known.
*
The Hôtel Meurice and the neighbouring administrative buildings on the rue de Rivoli were protected by at least seven tanks, including five Panzers, which were stationed in and around the Jardin des Tuileries.66 They were the major military problem the 2e DB had to face, but they proved remarkably easy to deal with. Intimidating though they might be, tanks are not at their most effective in urban warfare – they require the support of determined infantrymen and light armoured vehicles, and the Germans had neither.
Shortly before 14:00, Colonel Billotte launched two groups of tanks and infantrymen westwards from the Hôtel de Ville towards the Hôtel Meurice, one group on either side of the Tuileries. When a group of Shermans entered the Tuileries, they began a ferocious firefight and soon all the German tanks were destroyed or abandoned and their crews were either killed or captured. Columns of thick black smoke climbed skywards, marking the destruction.
Meanwhile, 2e DB soldiers, accompanied by FFI fighters, crept up the rue de Rivoli followed by five Shermans. Unlike in the other battles in Paris, there were no joyous civilians to get in the way. The street was empty and the air was filled with exhaust fumes, dust, the smell of cordite and the sound of gunfire. After some of the French soldiers were killed, the tanks moved to the front of the column, smashing through the flimsy anti-tank defences the Germans had set up in the road, and destroying a small tank at the corner of the rue d’Alger, right next to the Hôtel Meurice. Flame-throwers devastated German vehicles in streets adjacent to the rue de Rivoli, adding to the stench of chaos. But the final part of the advance was not entirely straight forward: the crew of the ill-named Sherman Mort de l’Homme were extremely imprudent – they had left the turret hatch open. A German soldier in one of the hotels at the side of the rue de Rivoli threw a grenade into the tank; it exploded, seriously burning the crew.
In one of the few offensive manoeuvres made by the Germans, a Panzer moved out of the Tuileries and onto the place de la Concorde, from where it fired at the de Langlade group up at the place de l’Etoile, missing the Free French tanks but hitting the façade of the Arc de Triomphe. When the shell smashed into the edifice, Colonel Bruce of the OSS was on top of the Arc, where he had been invited by a group of veterans who had draped a massive French tricolour over the front of the monument.67 In his diary, Bruce laconically noted the mixture of the beautiful and the terrifying: ‘The view was breathtaking. One saw the golden dome of the Invalides, the green roof of the Madeleine, Sacré-Coeur, and other familiar landmarks. Tanks were firing in various streets. Part of the Arc was under fire from snipers. A shell from a German 88 nicked one of its sides.’68
After the Panzer had fired its shell, one of the Shermans near the Arc de Triomphe turned its gun down to the gates of the Tuileries where the enemy tank was squatting. The gunner, Robert Mady, was ordered to open fire, range 1500 metres. But some rote school-learning from his childhood told him that the Champs-Elysées was 1880 metres long, so he ignored orders and set the range to 1800 metres.69 He hit the Panzer with two shots that damaged but did not destroy it. At the same time, another Sherman, which was much closer, fired a shell into the left flank of the Panzer and smoke began to pour from the vehicle. Finally, one of the Sherman tanks from the rue de Rivoli, commanded by 23-year-old Sergeant Bizien, turned onto the place de la Concorde and found itself track to track with the Panzer. Bizien’s tank rammed the stricken vehicle and fired at point-blank range. The Panzer burst into flames and its crew fled into the Tuileries.70 A minute later Bizien was dead, shot through the head.
By this point the infantrymen of the 2e DB had made their way into the ground floor of the Hôtel Meurice, throwing smoke grenades and firing their machine guns.71 In the rooms directly above, von Choltitz was flooded with indecision, so Colonel Jay seized the initiative. The young officer graphically summarised their situation – hopeless – and proposed that the fighting against the FFI should continue, but that if regular troops attacked, then everyone would surrender. Von Choltitz agreed.72 This revealed the classic military fear of being captured by undisciplined civilians, but above all it showed how isolated the German Paris command had become: they did not even know who was attacking them. A few minutes later, Lieutenant Karcher of the 2e DB burst into the room and told von Choltitz that he was now a prisoner. Then Lieutenant-Colonel de la Horie entered and demanded that the German commander order his men to stop fighting. Von Choltitz agreed. It was all over. The last German commander of Paris was taken out of the back entrance of the Hôtel Meurice and was driven off to the Préfecture de Police, to sign his surrender.73 The second, decisive, German strong-point had fallen.
*
A few hundred metres to the north, by the Opéra, another column of 2e DB soldiers made short work of the Kommandantur, which had housed a large part of the German administration. After shells were fired and a vehicle was destroyed, filling the area with choking smoke, the few hundred Germans surrendered. Within minutes the men and vehicles of the 2e DB were swamped by celebrating Parisians. Lieutenant Bachy recalled: ‘All of a sudden there were over a thousand people there – I don’t know where they came from – surrounding each soldier, joyously celebrating our presence, such that the Section Leader could not gather his men together, or indeed give any order at all.’74 Spanish exile Victoria Kent wrote in her diary: ‘We clap our hands and hold them out to our
liberators. We would like to do more. We would like to put the tanks on our shoulders and take them through Paris, from the north to the south, from the east to the west, but all we can do is smile and hold out our hands.’75 By 14:45 German prisoners were streaming out of the place de l’Opéra, marching in the sunlight to the Mairie of the 9th arrondissement, where they were held in a makeshift prison.76
Not far away, a retired French air force pilot invited Colonel Bruce and his colleagues for a drink. After a short walk, wrote Bruce, ‘we found a most beautiful apartment, with very fine furniture and Chinese porcelains, his lovely wife and a magnum of iced champagne.’ When they returned to their vehicle, they discovered a retired French lieutenant-colonel plying Ernest Hemingway and his crew with champagne, which was brought out in hampers by the officer’s manservant.77 Among the crowd of people gathered round the Sherman tanks at the Arc de Triomphe was Micheline Bood, dressed in red, white and blue clothes and with red, white and blue ribbons in her hair. As she wrote in her diary that night: ‘It’s crazy: little girls, young women, young people climbed onto the tanks, even dogs wearing tricolour bows. The cheeks of the French soldiers are covered in lipstick; the men are magnificent, bronzed and burnished by the sun.’78 Micheline’s decision not to join in the kissing – ‘I think the soldiers must have been fed up with it’ – might have been wise, as not all the encounters with the liberators went well. Micheline’s friend, Huguette, was in tears because her father had found her kissing a soldier, and had slapped her. People consoled the poor girl, and a soldier gave her some chewing gum to cheer her up.79
Despite the joy at the Arc de Triomphe, at the other end of the Champs-Elysées, the fighting continued around the place de la Concorde, in particular in front of the Navy Ministry and the Hôtel Crillon, where many of the high-ranking officers had their apartments. A German bazooka unit in the Crillon fired on the Free French tanks; in reply a shell hit one of the building’s decorative columns, which dramatically collapsed onto German vehicles below.80 A US journalist described the situation on the radio: ‘From where I am speaking to you I can hear the explosions of shells and the spatter of machine guns: Boche machine guns, machine guns of the regular army, and the machine guns of the FFI. The Germans set fire to the Navy Ministry and the Hôtel Crillon and the sky is ablaze in the direction of Neuilly and Vincennes. These are the last jerks of the beast receiving the mortal blow.’81 Inside the Hôtel Crillon, Quartermaster Wallraf observed the situation: ‘An Allied tank . . . tried to cross the place de la Concorde. A group of foot soldiers followed it, covered by the tank. From the fourth floor, our machine gun fired at the group of infantrymen; the men rapidly turned back, but one of them leapt into the air and fell on his back onto the floor, where he remained, immobile. His comrades came to get him.’82
Young stretcher-bearer Jean-Claude Touche had been instructed by his mother not to leave their apartment, but on the pretext of going to play cards with a local priest, he made his way to the local Red Cross post. Together with a 29-year-old nurse, Madeleine Brinet, he was ordered to the place de la Concorde. As the two first-aiders ran across the rue de Rivoli to tend to a wounded soldier, they were cut down by machine-gun fire from the windows of the Navy Ministry. Madeleine was killed instantly; Jean-Claude was badly wounded and died in hospital four days later.83
Wallraf later explained why the fighting went on so long – they simply did not believe that von Choltitz had surrendered: ‘A general who, only a short time ago, said he would shoot anyone who tried to get out of defending Paris, such a man could not have surrendered at the first shot, leaving others to carry on fighting!’ It took von Choltitz’s personal signature to convince the Germans to lay down their arms.84
The battle of Paris was won, but it was not yet over. The Germans were still dug in at the Ecole Militaire, the Senate and at place de la République. There was still fighting to be done, and lives to be lost. After more than four years under the Nazis, Paris would soon be free. But at a price.
16
Friday 25 August, Evening: Triumph
US war correspondent Ernie Pyle writes: ‘I had thought that for me there could never again be any elation in war. But I had reckoned without the liberation of Paris – I had reckoned without remembering that I might be a part of that richly historic day. We were in Paris on the first day – one of the great days of all time.’1
General von Choltitz was led into Billotte’s headquarters in the light-filled billiard room at the rear of the Préfecture de Police. The German commander had a stunned air, his face was puffy, and his monocle stared blankly from his right eye. Von Choltitz’s nemesis, General Leclerc, was gaunt and utterly focused. The Frenchman stared like a hawk at his defeated enemy and then spoke in German: ‘I am General Leclerc. Are you General Choltitz? Please sit down.’2
The room was crowded – Chaban, four French commanders, a 2e DB translator and one of von Choltitz’s aides were all there in a space dominated by the large billiard table. The room soon became even busier: first when a small table was brought in so that the surrender document could be signed, and then when Valrimont and Rol entered. Valrimont had initially been in the adjoining room; realising the importance of what was taking place, he had asked Luizet if he and Rol could be allowed in as representatives of the Resistance. Luizet, who as Prefect of Police was nominally in charge of proceedings, recognised that their presence could help smooth over the remaining differences with the Resistance, so he persuaded Leclerc and Chaban to accept this incursion into military protocol, and the two men were ushered in. Valrimont, wearing an ill-fitting suit and a tie with pastel stripes, was the only civilian in the room.3
When everyone was ready, the 2e DB translator, Captain Betz, read the surrender terms to von Choltitz. The German commander appeared to become unwell and went pale, sweating heavily. As the translator began to read through the terms a second time, Valrimont – who certainly did not lack courage – spoke up and said that Rol should also sign the surrender document. Leclerc, slightly bemused, pointed out that he was signing as ‘Commander of the French Forces in Paris’, and that Rol was therefore represented by him. With that, two copies of the document were signed by Leclerc and von Choltitz, one of which was retained by the German general. The first stage of the German surrender was over.
Von Choltitz was then driven the short distance to Leclerc’s headquarters in the Gare Montparnasse. Photographs show Leclerc and Chaban standing up in front; von Choltitz, slumped over, is seated behind, while Rol and Valrimont stand up at the back; the streets are lined with cheering, jeering Parisians, delighted to scream their joy and howl their contempt at the defeated occupier.
The station was eerily empty and quiet, a striking contrast to the noise outside. There were no trains, and the building was deserted apart from Leclerc’s staff and a handful of railway employees.4 Von Choltitz was taken to an office and told to sign orders instructing his men to surrender, which were to be taken to each of the remaining German strong-points around the city.5 The German officer’s demeanour was striking: ‘He seemed completely vacant, as if in a dream; his face was livid and he seemed to be completely stunned by events.’6
Meanwhile, Valrimont again suggested that Rol should sign the surrender document. Chaban supported him and Leclerc finally agreed, although he remained nonplussed – he was perhaps not up to speed on the tensions that existed between the Resistance and the Free French. Leclerc’s copy of the surrender was therefore amended in handwriting, with Rol’s name appearing before that of Leclerc.7 The most significant aspect of the document, however, was that both Rol and Leclerc signed in the name of the French Provisional Government, not as representatives of the Allies. This was a Free French triumph, and the signatures signified that Paris was under the control of de Gaulle’s Provisional Government. The final battle in the four-year conflict between the Free French and the Allies over de Gaulle’s significance and the future government of the country had been resolved at the stroke of a pen.8
/> Questioned by Leclerc’s staff officers, von Choltitz insisted that he had not ordered any buildings or bridges in Paris to be mined, nor were there any booby-traps.9 This was basically true. Although there were large quantities of explosives in some of the strong-points, these were simply stocks that the Germans did not want to fall into enemy hands. The only charges that were to be used for sabotage purposes were those at the telephone exchanges on the rue des Archives and the rue Saint-Amand, and a 500 kg mine under the Pont Saint-Cloud.10 All the rumours about the Germans preparing to destroy the city were just that – rumours. Nothing had been done to carry out Hitler’s momentous order of two days earlier, which had concluded: ‘Paris is not to fall into enemy hands other than as a heap of rubble.’11
Shortly afterwards, de Gaulle arrived at the station along with a couple of dozen aides and hangers-on, including the Free French delegate to the Liberated Territories, André Le Troquer, plump and wearing a large homburg hat. For the last two days, the Free French leader had exerted no influence on how events unfolded in the capital; now he was at the centre of affairs. De Gaulle was shown to a table at the end of one of the platforms, where he sat down and read the surrender document. Film shows him surrounded by various members of his staff, together with an FFI fighter in classic pose – white shirt, pullover, baggy trousers and Sten gun at the ready. Rol, standing at ease, looked almost girlish as he nervously swung his body from side to side. Throughout all this, Chaban stood to attention in front of the table, ramrod-stiff like a keen recruit, face to face with his leader for the first time. De Gaulle studiously ignored the young man in front of him and carried on reading. The Free French leader became visibly annoyed, and he called over Leclerc, asking him why Rol had also signed – von Choltitz had not surrendered to Rol, Rol had a subordinate rank to Leclerc, and yet his signature appeared first, snapped de Gaulle.12 Leclerc smiled and brushed aside the question. Mollified, or simply realising that the issue was ultimately irrelevant, de Gaulle took off his glasses and stood up. Leclerc then stepped in and gestured to Chaban, still standing to attention: ‘Sir, do you know General Chaban?’ De Gaulle jabbed a cigarette in his mouth, and stared at Chaban ferociously. Chaban thought he could read the emotions flowing through his leader’s mind as he realised that this young man – twenty-nine years old but barely looking twenty, according to Chaban himself – had been given such massive responsibilities. Incredulity, surprise and even anger apparently swept over de Gaulle’s face, recalled Chaban: ‘Then the statue moved. I was given a strong handshake – double strength – while the voice pronounced three words against which all awards and honours paled: “C’est bien, Chaban.”’13
