The Last Battle: The Classic History of the Battle for Berlin

by Cornelius Ryan

  “If anything further is needed to justify this disagreement with the British … I can only add that political considerations in the United States make my decision conclusive.” Then, to make absolutely sure that his Secretary of State really understood what he wanted, Roosevelt added, underlining the words: “You might speak to me about this if the above is not wholly clear.”

  In a more jocular vein, he explained his position to Churchill. “Do please don’t ask me to keep any American forces in France,” he wrote the Prime Minister. “I just cannot do it! As I suggested before, I denounce in protest the paternity of Belgium, France and Italy. You really ought to bring up and discipline your own children. In view of the fact that they may be your bulwark in future days, you should at least pay for the schooling now!”

  The U.S. Chiefs of Staff apparently heard from the President, too. Almost immediately the Army officers from the Civil Affairs Division reversed their position in the Working Security Committee. A few days after the London EAC meeting, a colonel strode into Professor Mosely’s office in the State Department and spread a map before him. “That’s what the President really wants,” he said. Mosely looked at the map. He had no idea when or under what circumstances it had been prepared. He had never seen it before—nor had anyone else in the State Department. The map was the one President Roosevelt had marked aboard the Iowa.

  As mysteriously as it had emerged, the Roosevelt map thereupon again dropped out of sight. Mosely expected it to be brought up at the next meeting of the Washington committee. It never was. “What happened to it, I do not know,” Mosely said years later. “The next time we met, the Civil Affairs officers produced a brand-new map, a variation which they explained was based on the President’s instructions. Who received these instructions I was never able to discover.”

  The new concept was somewhat similar to the President’s Iowa map, but not quite. The U.S. zone still lay in the northwest, the British in the south, but the dividing line between them running along the 50th parallel now stopped short of the Czech border. Furthermore, the eastern boundary of the U.S. zone swung sharply due east above Leipzig to encompass even more territory. There was one other change, more important than all the others: the U.S. zone no longer included Berlin. In Roosevelt’s original version, the eastern boundary of the U.S. zone had passed through the capital; now that line swung west in a wavering semi-circle around the city. Had Roosevelt—after insisting to his military chiefs that “We should go as far as Berlin” and that “the U.S. should have Berlin”—now changed his mind? The Civil Affairs officers did not say. But they demanded that the new proposal be immediately transmitted to London, where Winant was to demand its acceptance by EAC!

  It was a preposterous proposal anyway, and the State Department knew it. Under the new plan both Britain and Russia would get smaller occupation areas; it seemed hardly likely that they would accept such an arrangement after both had approved an earlier, more favorable division of territory. The Civil Affairs officers had produced the proposal without any accompanying memoranda to assist Winant in rationalizing it before the EAC; when asked to prepare such background papers they refused and said that was the State Department’s job. The proposal was finally submitted to Winant without papers of any sort. The Ambassador frantically cabled for more detailed instructions. When they were not forthcoming, he shelved the plan; it was never submitted.

  That was the last effort made to introduce a U.S. plan. Roosevelt continued to hold out against accepting the British scheme until late March, 1944. At that time, George F. Kennan, Ambassador Winant’s political advisor, flew to Washington to explain to the President the problems that had arisen in the EAC because of the deadlock. Roosevelt reviewed the situation and after examining the British proposal once again, told Kennan that “considering everything, it is probably a fair decision.” He then approved the Soviet zone and the overall plan, but with one proviso: the U.S., he insisted, must have the northwestern sector. According to the account that Kennan later gave Mosely, as the meeting broke up Kennan asked the President what had happened to his own plan. Roosevelt laughed. “Oh,” he said, “that was just an idea.”

  All through the momentous months of 1944, as Anglo-American troops invaded the continent, routed the Germans out of France and began driving for the Reich, the behind-the-scenes political battles went on. Roosevelt clung firmly to his demands for the northwest zone of Germany. Churchill just as tenaciously refused to budge from his position.

  In April Winant verbally informed the EAC of his government’s position, but he did not immediately put the President’s desires before the delegates in writing. The Ambassador was not prepared to do so until he received instructions on one matter that he thought was crucial. In the British plan there was still no provision for Western access to Berlin.

  The British foresaw no problem about access. They assumed that when hostilities ended some form of German authority would sign the surrender and administer the country under the control of the Supreme Commander. No zone would be sealed off from any other and, as Strang saw it, there would be “some free movement of Germans from zone to zone and from western zones to the capital … also freedom of movement for all proper purposes for Allied military and civilian staffs in Germany.” Furthermore, whenever the subject had been mentioned in the EAC, Russia’s Gusev had smoothly assured Strang and Winant that he foresaw no difficulties. After all, as Gusev repeatedly put it, the mere presence of U.S. and British forces in Berlin automatically carried with it rights of access. It was a matter that was taken for granted, a kind of gentlemen’s agreement.

  Nevertheless, Winant thought the provision should be nailed down. He believed that “corridors” such as those originally suggested by Mosely had to be included before the Big Three formally accepted the British scheme. He intended to present such a proposal at the same time he formally placed the President’s views on the zones before EAC. He wanted guarantees of specific rail, highway, and air routes through the Soviet zone to Berlin.

  In May the Ambassador flew to Washington, saw the President, and then outlined his corridor provisions to the War Department. The Civil Affairs Division flatly turned down Winant’s plan.* Its officers assured him that the question of access to Berlin was “strictly a military matter anyway” and would be handled by local commanding officers through military channels when Germany was occupied. Winant, defeated, returned to London. On June 1 he formally agreed to the British plan and the proposed Soviet sector, with the one exception that the U.S. should have the northwestern zone. The document contained no clause providing for access to Berlin.* In tentative form, at least, the Allies had decided the future of the city: when the war ended it would be a jointly occupied island almost in the center of the Soviet zone.

  The power struggle now moved swiftly to its conclusion. In late July, 1944, Gusev, eager to formalize Soviet gains in the EAC, deliberately brought matters to a head. Unless the Anglo-American dispute was settled so that the Big Three could sign the agreement, he said blandly, the U.S.S.R. could see little reason for further EAC discussions. The implied threat to pull out of the Advisory Commission, thus nullifying the work of months, had the desired effect.

  On both sides of the Atlantic, anxious diplomats and military advisors urged their leaders to give in. Both Churchill and Roosevelt remained adamant. Roosevelt seemed to be the least flustered by the Soviet threat. Winant was told that since the U.S. had already agreed on the Soviet zone, the President could not understand why “any further discussion with the Soviets is necessary at this time.”

  But Roosevelt was now being pressed from all sides. While the political squabbles went on, the great Anglo-American armies were swarming toward Germany. In the middle of August, General Eisenhower cabled the Combined Chiefs of Staff, warning that they might be “faced with the occupation of Germany sooner than had been expected.” Once again the disposition of troops as originally foreseen by Morgan in his Rankin C plan had returned to plague the planners: Bri
tish troops on the left were heading for northern Germany, Americans on the right were advancing toward the south. Eisenhower now sought political guidance on the occupation zones—the first U.S. military man to do so. “All we can do,” he said, “is approach the problem on a purely military basis” and that would mean keeping the “present deployment of our armies….” Eisenhower added: “Unless we receive instructions to the contrary, we must assume this solution is acceptable … considering the situation which may confront us and the absence of basic decisions as to the zones of occupation.”

  The crisis, long inevitable, had now been reached. The U.S. War and State departments, for once in complete agreement, were faced with a dilemma: no one was prepared to reopen the issue with the President again. In any case, the matter was due to be discussed at a new Roosevelt-Churchill meeting scheduled for the fall; any final decision would have to be put off till then. In the meantime, Eisenhower’s planning could not be delayed. Since the U.S. Chiefs had plans already prepared for a U.S. occupation of either the northwest or southern zones, on August 18 they advised Eisenhower that they were “in complete agreement” with his solution. Thus, although Roosevelt had not yet announced his decision, the assumption that the U.S. would occupy the southern zone was allowed to stand.

  Roosevelt and Churchill met once again in Quebec in September, 1944. Roosevelt had changed visibly. The usually vital President looked frail and wan. The crippling polio which his renowned charm and witty informality cloaked was now evident in the painful hesitancy of his every move. But there was more than that. He had been in office since 1933—longer than any other U.S. President—and even now was seeking a fourth term. The campaigning, the diplomacy at home and abroad, the strain of the heavy burdens of the war years, were fast taking their toll. It was easy to see why his doctors, family and friends were begging him not to run again. To the British delegation at Quebec, Roosevelt appeared to be failing rapidly. Churchill’s Chief of Staff, General Sir Hastings Ismay, was shocked by his appearance. “Two years before,” he said, “the President had been the picture of health and vitality, but now he had lost so much weight that he seemed to have shrunk: his coat sagged over his broad shoulders and his collar looked several sizes too big. We knew the shadows were closing in.”

  Tired, frustrated, trapped by circumstances and under pressure from his advisors and Churchill, the President finally gave in and accepted the southern zone. The British met him halfway. Among other concessions, they agreed to give the U.S. control of the great harbors and staging areas of Bremen and Bremerhaven.*

  The final wartime meeting of the Big Three occurred at Yalta, in February, 1945. It was a crucial conference. Victory lay ahead, but it was clear that the bonds binding the Allied leaders were weakening as political considerations replaced military realities. The Russians were becoming more demanding and arrogant with every mile they advanced into central Europe. Churchill, long a foe of Communism, was particularly concerned about the future of countries like Poland, which the Red Army had liberated and now controlled.

  Roosevelt, gaunt and much weaker than he had been at Quebec, still saw himself in the role of the Great Arbiter. In his view a peaceful post-war world could be achieved only with the cooperation of Stalin. He had once expressed his policy toward the Red leader in these terms: “I think that if I give him everything I can and ask for nothing in return, noblesse oblige, he won’t try to annex anything and will work with me for a world of democracy and peace.” The President believed that the U.S. could “get along with Russia” and that he could “manage Stalin” for, as he had once explained, “on a man-to-man basis … Uncle Joe … is get-at-able.” Although the President was growing increasingly concerned about Soviet post-war intentions, he still seemed almost determinedly optimistic.

  At Yalta the last great wartime decisions were made. Among them was one giving France full partnership in the occupation of Germany. The French zone of Germany and the French sector of Berlin were carved out of the British and U.S. areas; Stalin, who was opposed to French participation, refused to contribute any part of the Russian zone. On February 11, 1945, the Big Three formally accepted their respective zones.

  Thus, after sixteen months of confusion and squabbling, the U.S. and Britain at last were in accord. The occupation plan, based on a scheme originally called Rankin C but now known to the military as Operation Eclipse, contained one staggering omission: there was no provision whatever for Anglo-American access to Berlin.

  It took just six weeks for Stalin to violate the Yalta agreement. Within three weeks of the conference, Russia had ousted the government of Soviet-occupied Rumania. In an ultimatum to King Michael, the Reds bluntly ordered the appointment of Petru Groza, the Rumanian Communist chief, as Prime Minister. Poland was lost, too: the promised free elections had not taken place. Contemptuously, Stalin seemed to have turned his back on the very heart of the Yalta pact, which stated that the Allied powers would assist “peoples liberated from the dominion of Nazi Germany and … former Axis satellite states … to create democratic institutions of their own choice.” But Stalin saw to it that any Yalta provisions that favored him—such as the division of Germany and Berlin—were carried out scrupulously.

  map

  Roosevelt’s desire to have Berlin for the United States was clearly evident from the lines he drew on the National Geographic map while en route to Teheran for the first Big Three Conference. Military minds prevailed and one of the plans that was substituted for F. D. R.’s was the one below—notice that Berlin is no longer included in the projected American zone. In the end, after almost two years of discussions, the final occupation zones were chosen as shown on the back endpaper map. The typed inset is a note by Major General Handy.

  Roosevelt had been warned often of Stalin’s ruthless territorial ambitions by his Ambassador to Moscow, W. Averell Harriman, but now the Soviet leader’s flagrant breach of faith came to him as a staggering shock. On the afternoon of Saturday, March 24, in a small room on the top floor of the White House, Roosevelt had just finished lunch with Mrs. Anna Rosenberg, his personal representative charged with studying the problems of returning veterans, when a cable arrived from Harriman on the Polish situation. The President read the message and erupted in a violent display of anger, repeatedly pounding the arms of his wheelchair. “As he banged the chair,” Mrs. Rosenberg later recalled, “he kept repeating: ‘Averell is right! We can’t do business with Stalin! He has broken every one of the promises he made at Yalta!’”*

  In London, Churchill was so disturbed by Stalin’s departure from the spirit of Yalta that he told his secretary he feared the world might consider that “Mr. Roosevelt and I have underwritten a fraudulent prospectus.” On his return from Yalta he had told the British people that “Stalin and the Soviet leaders wish to live in honorable friendship and equality with the western democracies. I feel … their word is their bond.” But on this same Saturday, March 24, the worried Prime Minister remarked to his aide: “I hardly like dismembering Germany until my doubts about Russia’s intentions have been cleared away.”

  With Soviet moves becoming “as plain as a pikestaff,” Churchill felt that the Western Allies’ most potent bargaining force would be the presence of Anglo-American troops deep inside Germany, so they could meet with the Russians “as far to the east as possible.” Thus, Field Marshal Montgomery’s message announcing his intention of dashing for the Elbe and Berlin was heartening news indeed: to Churchill, the quick capture of Berlin now seemed vital. But, despite the Montgomery message, no commander along the western front had as yet been ordered to take the city. That order could come from only one man: the Supreme Commander, General Eisenhower.

  *As originally conceived in 1943 there were actually three parts to Operation Rankin: Case A dealt with a situation in which the Germans might become so weak that only a “miniature Overlord” invasion might be necessary; Case B conceived a strategic German withdrawal from some parts of the occupied countries while still leavin
g the bulk of their forces along the European coastline to repel an invasion; and Case C dealt with a sudden German collapse either before, during or after the actual invasion itself. Cases A and B were early abandoned and received, as Morgan recalls, only the briefest consideration.

  *Stalin’s proposals reached Churchill while he was crossing the Atlantic aboard the battleship H.M.S. Duke of York en route to meet with Roosevelt. The U.S. had just entered the war and Churchill had qualms about raising the matter with his powerful new ally at this time. He wired Eden: “Naturally you will not be rough with Stalin. We are bound to U.S. not to enter into secret and special pacts. To approach President Roosevelt with these proposals would be to court a blank refusal and might cause lasting trouble…. Even to raise them informally … would in my opinion be inexpedient.” The State Department was informed of Eden’s conversation with Stalin, but there is no evidence that anyone ever bothered to tell the President of the United States at the time. But by March of 1943 Roosevelt was fully apprised and according to Eden, who discussed the matter with him, the President foresaw no great difficulties with the Soviet Union. “The big question which rightly dominated Roosevelt’s mind,” said Eden, “was whether it was possible to work with Russia now and after the war.”

  *The account of the events aboard the Iowa comes from handwritten minutes which were made by General George C. Marshall. The actual memorandum contains no direct quotes, only notes made as points of reference. I have directly quoted the President and others where it was clearly indicated that a sentence was being attributed to them.