Hitler's Brandenburgers

by Lawrence Paterson

  However, Rudloff’s was not the first Brandenburger mission to target Switzerland. In June 1940, Swiss Bf 109 fighters – ironically procured from Germany in an arms deal – had shot down some Luftwaffe aircraft provocatively invading their airspace. An enraged Göring demanded a sabotage mission be mounted to destroy the Swiss fighters on the ground at their airfield and eight men were assembled for Operation ‘Adler’ (later renamed to Operation ‘Wartegau’). Two of the men sent on this mission were Swiss nationals living in Germany and at least some of the remaining six were Brandenburgers. The eight were kitted out in identical and conspicuous civilian clothes; knickerbockers, capes, black berets and, somewhat ridiculously, parachutists’ backpacks. They crossed the border on the night of 12 June in two small groups with the aid of German customs agents and later rendezvoused and boarded a train bound for Zurich at Kreuzlinger Station. Their somewhat absurd disguises attracted unwelcome attention as they divided into four identical pairs, the first handing the conductor two invalid train tickets before attempting to buy new ones with a crisp new 100-franc note. Before the train had passed two more stations the Bupo (Bundespolizei – Federal Police) picked the men up, discovering their Czech pistols and explosives. It is, in fact, highly likely that Oster or Canaris deliberately mounted the mission in such a foolhardy and slapdash manner to provoke a foreign reaction against Hitler’s government. The eight men subsequently languished in a Swiss jail for the remainder of the war.

  Hitler detested the Swiss and seriously contemplated a surprise invasion. At the very least he was determined to ‘encircle’ those who he called in 1943 ‘the most despicable and wretched people, mortal enemies of the new Germany’. There was also validity to his concern about the free passage of Swiss goods through unoccupied France and into Allied hands, exports for Britain and the United States being consigned via Spain and Portugal.

  The political leadership wanted to make sure that the rail connection between Switzerland and France is cut off. For this reason a corresponding order has been given to List to destroy the rail line La Roche–Annecy. Given the course the war has taken, this order could no longer be executed. The Supreme Command of the Army demands therefore that now, after the armistice has taken effect, a patrol task force of the army should execute this destruction. I object. After a cease-fire has been permitted to occur, such a military order is impossible. At best it could be executed by Canaris … After consultation with General Keitel, I give the respective orders to Canaris …1

  Rudloff and his adjutant Oberfeldwebel Heumann immediately relocated to Freiburg and personally reconnoitred the ground over which they would operate. The decision was made to bring three teams, each of nine men – one non-commissioned officer and eight enlisted men – from Aachen to Freiburg and attack the 260m-long railway tunnel north-west of the village of Les Aires, between Groisy and Evires. However, his mission appears to have been a failure, some question remaining over whether it was ever actually launched as there is no documented evidence of it. Operation ‘Wespennest II’ later achieved greater success, but it was not handled by the Brandenburgers. Instead, four Rexists of the ‘Hercules Group’ acting as informers and spies (known to the Germans as V-Leute) for the Abwehr approached the Lavillat viaduct between La Roche and Annecy on 4 September 1940 under cover of darkness in two cars and two trucks. In civilian clothes the men faked a mechanical breakdown underneath the viaduct. Four hours after the ‘disabled’ vehicle finally departed, the explosion of several hundred kilograms of Melinit explosive destroyed the two central supporting pillars of the viaduct. Rumours were then circulated that successfully pinned the blame on British intelligence agents.

  During July, Rudloff was granted leave in Berlin where he married Elisabeth Kordes before returning to his unit, which had been expanded to the strength of a battalion – approximately 500 men. After four weeks of intensive training they were redeployed to the West as part of the build-up for Operation ‘Seelöwe’ (‘Sealion’); the planned invasion of England. The lead elements of the 3rd Battalion arrived in Normandy and were located near the mouth of the Seine River, north of Caen, subordinated to Sixth Army, while Hippel’s 1st Battalion (which still numbered only two companies with a third under formation) was also transferred for ‘Seelöwe’ to Nieuport, Belgium, and placed under the control of Sixteenth Army. An element of the 1st Battalion, plus the 10th Company which had recently relocated from Aachen to the Riemann Kaserne, Düren, both travelled to the island of Heligoland to begin training.

  Hippel’s men were factored into the ‘Seelöwe’ invasion plan as an airlanding unit, forging ahead of the main invasion force into the area between Folkestone and Dungeness. Once on the ground, the locks of the southern port of Folkestone were to be destroyed by one part of the battalion while the second part would land on the pebble beach at Dungeness and seize the sluices and hydroelectric power stations as well as defensive bunkers, coastal guns and a railway battery that could obstruct the main beachheads. After they were secure, the Brandenburgers were to signal to Luftwaffe aircraft that the main invasion force could land. Rudloff’s companies were to disembark from a flotilla of small motor vessels and seize Weymouth which lay at the boundary between the westernmost landings of Sixth Army and Ninth Army. Once the harbour and town were secure, Rudloff’s companies were to separate and swing both west and east and make for the harbours of Plymouth and Portsmouth in support of the main troop landings. Ninth Army would also benefit from a 100-man English-speaking Brandenburger force wearing Volltarnung of British Army uniforms landing ahead of the main force to infiltrate coastal defences and neutralise artillery batteries at Dover. Their mission plan, which included Janowski and Grabert and their respective units, was to land ashore and proceed along the White Cliffs to a point outside Dover where steps led down to the beach. From this point, they would continue along the pebble beach in order to avoid a military encampment located on a head of land behind Dover and regain the cliff top by a second set of stairs closer to the town. Once off the beach, their planned route passed alongside the railway station whereupon they would take control of three docks on which were mounted gun emplacements as a second reinforcing Brandenburg unit would soon follow. Success was to be signalled to Luftwaffe aircraft and consequent disembarkation carried out using the captured piers. The invasion was scheduled for the latter half of September.

  Like most of ‘Seelöwe’, it was a dangerously ambitious plan with little of the necessary support available to enable any real chance of success. The entire invasion was being planned in the manner of a major river crossing, which failed to consider not only the geographical problems but also the fearsome prospect of strong defence by the Royal Navy against a Kriegsmarine that had suffered grievous losses during the invasion of Norway. Likewise, for Hippel and other traditional Fallschirmjäger landings that were planned, the Luftwaffe were suffering a severe shortage of Ju 52 aircraft after heavy losses caused by accurate Dutch anti-aircraft fire during the airborne operations against The Netherlands.

  Nonetheless, training continued apace, the 11th Company now being stationed at St Honoré south of Dieppe and the 10th having returned from Heligoland to Bayeux. The newly formed 12th Company moved from Aachen to Büsum where they practised disembarkation techniques before also moving to Normandy. Rudloff’s 3rd Battalion continued its training along strictly infantry lines and although the plan was to commit them to an amphibious landing at Weymouth the unit never received the shallow-draught landing craft necessary for such an operation. The enigmatic Oberleutnant Wilhelm Hollmann and his self-titled Sonderstab was also involved in plans to spearhead the invasion force, though he was reprimanded once his actions became known as they had never been officially sanctioned by his superiors. Though initiative and independent thought were crucial attributes within the Brandenburgers, the chain of command still existed for a purpose, and correspondingly Hollmann’s tenure with the regiment was not only apparently turbulent, but relatively brief.

  Hollman
n organised a projected agent drop in Ireland to assist with ‘Seelöwe’. Despite Canaris’ strict instructions to all Abwehr departments to cease attempts at infiltrating Britain through Ireland, Hollmann acted independently, claiming authority from Army Group Northern France. Operation ‘Möwe’ (‘Seagull’, originally codenamed ‘Hummel (‘Lobster’) II’), involved the landing of two Brandenburgers on the Irish coast at Sligo. Once there, they were to establish contact with the IRA who might, presumably, assist them in travelling to England where they were to enlist guides that could act as pathfinders for projected Brandenburger landings at Dover. The pair – Obergefreiter Bruno Reiger (formerly of Abwehr I and a skilled radio operator) and another NCO, Helmut Clissmann – were put aboard a Breton fishing boat captained by Christian Nissen, an experienced sailor who had served during the previous war and now worked for the Abwehr. They departed France bound for Ireland, but events conspired to foil their mission. At sea, the boat’s bilge pump failed in heavy weather and the Danish mechanic was thrown off balance and knocked unconscious. With no alternative, Nissen turned about and returned to Brest, the mission never to be attempted again. After the war’s end Lahousen painted an unflattering portrait of Hollmann to Allied interrogators.

  According to Lahousen, Hollmann and his colleagues of the Brandenburg Regiment were fanatical Nazis, who in the summer of ’40 were preparing a spate of daredevil stunts in conjunction with the invasion of England. Hollmann did not take the CO of his regiment into his confidence on the pretence that he was working directly for Abwehr II HQ in Berlin. Inquiries in Berlin elicited the reply that Hollmann was not employed on special duties. Undismayed by this and following rebuffs, Hollmann continued to prepare his own schemes; neither Lahousen nor his CO exercised more than a nominal control or were aware what he was doing. Rumours began to reach Lahousen that Hollmann was working for the SS and this coincided with a new complaint from the CO of the Regiment. Lahousen was forced to take action and had Hollmann transferred from the Brandenburg Regiment.2

  Hollmann left the Wehrmacht in 1941 and returned to his factory, though he would be recalled to the Brandenburg Division two years later. Meanwhile, his existing Sonderstab elements were broken up and distributed piecemeal throughout the regiment.

  Fortunately for the Wehrmacht, ‘Seelöwe’ was postponed during a meeting on 17 September between Hitler, Göring and Generalfeldmarschall Gerd von Rundstedt. The single prerequisite for the invasion to be launched was Luftwaffe dominance of the skies over Britain and after weeks of fighting in what is now known as the Battle of Britain, this condition had not been met. On 12 October, the Führer finally issued a directive releasing forces for other fronts, while maintaining at least the appearance of continued invasion preparations to maintain political pressure on Britain to surrender. Rudloff himself later remembered that it had been common talk amongst the staff officers of Sixth Army that the invasion had been called off in order ‘not to antagonise the British too much’. At that time, many Germans believed that the British would soon be ready to contract a compromise peace with the Germans when they saw that their situation was truly dire with little hope of recovery. Upon receipt of their release, the 1st Battalion returned to Brandenburg while the 3rd travelled to Düren.

  While the ‘Seelöwe’ training had been underway, a minor crisis appeared to have overtaken the regiment. When originally developed, the battalion’s purpose had been to gather together a pool of linguist volunteers – preferably from the circles of Auslandsdeutschen – to be held in reserve for special assignments for the Abwehr and at the same time for a combat unit to be used on special operations. During summer 1940 at the end of the Western campaign, Abwehr II, in conjunction with OKW’s Kriegsgefangenenwesen (Prisoner of War Directorate), began segregating prisoners that belonged to national minorities into special compounds. For example, Ukrainians would be separated from Poles, Flemings from Walloons, Bretons from French and Irish from British. Though largely unrealised, the ambition was to attempt to form pools from which to recruit saboteurs, agents or potential men for the Brandenburgers. Other German agencies that required access to these ‘national pools’, such as Abwehr I or the Propaganda Ministry, were only granted access through the office of Abwehr II.

  In the 1st Company/1st Battalion, with the possible addition of the headquarters company, the attempt was made to recruit linguists who were then put through the Quenzgut special training courses in radio, coding and decoding, languages and local customs. That part of the regiment which was stationed in Brandenburg an der Havel was primarily responsible for the ‘special assignments’, the Regimental Headquarters Company – which largely functioned as a ‘paper company’ through which genuine Abwehr agents could receive their sabotage training at Quenzgut – plus the 1st Battalion.

  By contrast the 2nd and 3rd Battalions were essentially combat units. Their commitment to action generally followed a request by field commanders for Brandenburg troops and their assignments normally of a similar nature; rapid dashes through enemy lines to take and hold important objectives and prevent their demolition. With most tasks of an engineering nature, the troops were classed as engineers, reflected in their general training and even the black Waffenfarbe (arm-of-service colours) that they sported on their uniform piping.

  However, under Major Kewisch’s command, the Brandenburgers were gradually diverted from their originally planned purpose and developed along more traditional infantry lines. Kewisch was perceived as having managed to transfer friends into the unit as officers and thus increase the scope of his control considerably, most his colleagues arriving as traditionally trained line officers without any form of specialist ability or experience and therefore only able to lead their units along infantry lines. Rudloff would later remark under post-war interrogation that ‘their own personal bravery, coupled with an utter lack of understanding for the assignments, brought about high and bloody losses … his old 3rd Battalion, for example, wiped out completely on the Russian front.’3 The officer corps in the regiment was in a constant state of flux, so that the commanders were barely able to establish efficient working relationships with their junior officers as the latter were frequently moved. This was advantageous neither for training nor for operations, but the personal ambitions of various officers and the special politics in the personnel sections of the regiment and the OKW appeared to be of greater importance to those in charge than the good of the regiment itself.

  The issue came to a head during October 1940 and resulted in re-staffing of several positions in the regiment. Perhaps ironically, it was a failed mission by two South African Abwehr agents to Ireland that prompted the final confrontation between leading personalities in the Brandenburgers. The pair, who had trained as Brandenburgers before secondment to Abwehr III, had declined to undertake the planned parachute drop after all preparation had been completed. This was in accordance with Hippel’s assertion that his men volunteered for each operation, the risk of capture and execution as a spy if using disguises in the field being a factor that each man could judge for himself. In Berlin, OKW had rescinded their earlier acceptance of this special circumstance of Brandenburger deployment and subsequently issued instructions that all men of the regiment were to swear an oath to carry out any and all operations assigned to them. Hippel, informed of the instructions by his adjutant Leutnant Johannes, flatly refused to comply with this new directive.

  At the end of September Hippel attended an intelligence briefing that had been called at the headquarters of Rundstedt’s Army Group A in the ‘Pavillon Henri IV’, Saint Germain-en-Laye, just west of Paris. Amongst those in attendance were regimental commander Kewisch and Oberst Stolze from Lahousen’s Abwehr II office as well as Oberst Günther Blumentritt, Operations Officer of Army Group A and a major part of the planning staff for Operation ‘Seelöwe’. Hippel later recalled the meeting:

  The two gentlemen [Kewisch and Stolze] had an order from Admiral Canaris that all Brandenburgers had to sign the following declar
ation: ‘I have been informed of the duties of the Lehrregiment Brandenburg, will remain silent in this regard and obey all orders from the Abwehr as a soldier.’

  I was so upset when I heard this unreasonable demand that Oberst Blumentritt attempted to calm me down in his elegant manner as the gentlemen from OKW asked from whom the order came. I stated to them: I refuse to accept this directive as a responsible commander of the Lehrregiment and absolutely do not regard it as an order! When Stolze replied that it was given on the wishes of the Führer, I replied that the Führer had been given the wrong advice. As long as I was commander, this command was not going to be passed on to my people. I then approached Oberst Blumentritt and requested official [court martial] proceedings to be started against me and asked for my transfer to Seelöwe. I did not provide any further objections and asked Hauptmann Hollmann and Leutnant Herzner, who had accompanied me, to pack up and take off at once. We no longer took part in the officers’ dinner, but returned to Nieuport immediately after I had applied for the proceedings again in writing … The next morning I gathered some officers, who were lawyers, from the regiment. Two hours later, in an officers’ meeting of the regiment, I announced the [forthcoming] operation. Soon, however, Operation ‘Seelöwe’ was blown out. At the end of October I was still at the regiment, then came the long-awaited telegram, which ordered me to Berlin.4