Everyone in the higher positions right up to Goebbels and Hitler himself was aware that a political solution had to be found and since they were in the main strongly anti-communist - they felt that this had to be found with the west. Hitler had been realistic enough to authorize a top-secret approach to the Soviet diplomatic mission in Sweden in 1943 but had changed his mind even before the Kremlin had responded. But this had been the turning point for Himmler, who picked up the threads but looked not to the East but to the West, to England. Now in 1944, after the failure of his emissaries to elicit any useful response he had found another way to give fate a chance where his own will to action failed him. Towards the end of May 1944, the Inspector of the Tank Troops, the legendary father of the German Blitzkrieg strategy, General Heinz Guderian, had talked to him about the need to replace staff officers who had been away from the front too long and were slow in making decisions. This included the Chief of Staff to the Head of the Replacement Army. Himmler had asked Guderian for a possible replacement and the legendary Panzer commander had suggested the recently recuperated Colonel Claus von Stauffenberg. As the position entailed regular access to Hitler's conferences, it had been Himmler's decision - as the man ultimately responsible for the Führer's safety - to make and he had agreed.
Himmler had made the decision in the full knowledge that Stauffenberg had during his recuperation from war wounds become a confirmed member of the resistance. Indeed it seemed that the wounded Colonel was the most dynamic of the small circle of officers suspected of trying to plot the removal of the Führer. Guderian, Himmler felt could well be one of them.[17]
Stauffenberg's appointment had begun on June 15th. Since then he had been in Hitler's presence twice. Nothing had happened. But today was different. Carl Goerdeler, one of the key figures in the opposition movement had been arrested by the Gestapo. The conspirators had to assume that he would be tortured for information. Although this had not yet been initiated, men like Stauffenberg had to know that their time had run out. So here he sat, Reichsführer SS, having nudged the hand of providence, waiting and hoping for the catalyst, von Stauffenberg to deliver a sign.[18]
12:32 am Hitler’s Headquarters 'Wolfsschanze'
Rastenburg, Eastern Prussia.
Silently and now truly sweating Stauffenberg and von Haeften moved frantically to arm the detonators. The first detonator went off without a problem, but when Stauffenberg crushed the second copper casing he heard the wire snap. Haeften's head shot up. There were no backups. They had only one detonator left.
There was no time for doubt 'We will have to rely on one each, Werner.' A nervous nod from the young officer. He wiped his moist hands and reached for the third device. Please God The pliers were on the copper casing gently contracting as the dull sound of crackling glass held in place by the casing came from within. Stauffenberg peered into the inspection slit and went white. The spring was cracked, sliding uselessly in the tubing. No ! He had not come this far to be defeated by mere scraps of metal. Think man, the situation demanded a solution.
He looked up at von Haeften, wondering if the young officer would panic if something else was wrong. During the presentation to Keitel he had already irritated people with his nervous behaviour. In as casual a tone as he could von Stauffenberg whispered 'Werner, I think this one is dubious. Tie it together with the other bomb. That way if either detonator goes off it will ignite the other device. Just to be on the safe side.' He hoped his voice didn't give him away. It took von Haeften less than twenty seconds to comply.
At that moment Keitel called from the passage. 'Stauffenberg ! Come now - the Führer is waiting.'
'We are on our way'
Just at that moment the door opened and one of Keitel's aides poked his head in. 'Colonel please the chief is getting hot under the collar.' Spinning around to cover Haeften's sliding the combined package into the briefcase, Stauffenberg waved him away, 'Ja, Ja relax. It will not kill him.'
They were ready, Werner handed him the briefcase and they hurried out into the passage. Twelve -thirty-one, ten minutes to go, maybe eleven.
Outside the bunker Keitel was trying his best to show his displeasure. 'Lets go, Schnell, Schnell.' Without waiting another second he led the way towards the inner security circle. In his self-importance the Wehrmacht’s most accomplished creeper did not notice that Stauffenberg had not changed. One of Keitel's aides offered to help Stauffenberg with the briefcase. The Colonel abruptly declined the courtesy. It aroused no suspicion. The wounded Colonel von Stauffenberg was already known for his fierce self-sufficiency.
Adolf Hitler was having a depressing day. In fact 1944 had brought nothing but problems and with each one his mood had darkened. On the east Front the Russians had finally broken the German siege of Leningrad and pushed the Germans back into Estonia. In February the Red Army crossed the old Polish border, in March they reached the Rumanian. There they had halted during the spring thaw and regrouped. On June 20, they had resumed their advance. The battered German divisions, stretched out in lines of defence Hitler refused to shorten, had crumbled under the pressure of the weight of the new Soviet offensive. Army Group Centre under Field Marshall Busch simply ceased to exist. Between June 22 and July 20, 28Wehrmacht divisions collapsed, more than 300 000 German soldiers were killed or captured, among them more than a dozen Generals. Nearly a third of the fighting force on the Eastern Front was gone. By comparison Stalingrad paled into insignificance. The victorious Russians stormed into Minsk, Vilnius, Pinsk and Grodno. They were now literally on the border of the Reich, poised to strike into East Prussia and cut off the German divisions the Führer insisted on holding in the Baltic States[19].
During the same months Allied air forces had continued to bomb German communications and towns with monotonous regularity. In the face of Göring's ever more hollow claims of Luftwaffe successes, the Americans had made their first daylight bombing run on Berlin in March. While the partisans in the Balkans were as active as never before, in Italy Field Marshall Kesselring had been driven back from the Gustav line along Monte Cassino in May and retreated north of Rome. Two days after the fall of Rome, the Normandy landings had begun. The desperate and unsuccessful struggle to contain the Allied beachhead in Normandy meant that although he still publicly refused to recognize the fact, the Führer was confronted with as serious a military crisis in the west as in the east. For the first time he was being made to realize the meaning of war on two fronts.[20]
To the problems of the eastern and western fronts, there were others: the possible defection of Hungary, the need for greater mobilization of Germany's untapped resources for the war effort which he had been pushing ahead of him for weeks now, and what bothered him most of all that day, the unsatisfactory situation with regards to Italy and Mussolini. Following Italy's surrender in October 1943 the Wehrmacht had interned over a million Italian soldiers across Europe. When SS-Parachute Commander Skorzeny had plucked the deposed Mussolini from his mountain prison, Hitler had allowed the proclamation of a Fascist Republic in the Italian territory still held by the Germans. Since then the Duce had been pressing him for the right to raise new divisions, loyal to the fascist state. For a while Hitler had gone along with the idea but the day before, July 19th, the grim situation on the eastern front had convinced him that the German instructors and equipment destined for these units were more urgently needed for the fight against Bolshevik Russia. The Italians had performed badly before; they would do so again. Mussolini had been appalled. And to mollify him he had invited him to join him at the war conference this afternoon. The days schedule had been adjusted to accommodate the Duce's arrival by train at 12:30.
Today's briefing had thus been brought forward and was being held in the map room, a wooden, pre-fabricated structure of some sixteen by forty feet, with three large windows in the north wall. The wide open windows brought only little relief for the twenty-four people from the humid heat. They stood around a large, heavy oak table littered with maps. Adolf Hitler stood to
wards the middle of one of the long sides of the table, constantly leaning over the table to look at the maps, as General Heusinger, Assistant Chief of Staff, reported on the developments on the Eastern Front. Heusinger's presentation style was not attention-grabbing as he sought to mask new disasters and retreats along virtually half the front line. Hitler was irritable. Like all Generals Heusinger seemed to relish defeat. The words were always the same: retreat, withdrawal, retreat, withdrawal.
A habitual night owl this was not Hitler's time of day. Heusinger's report droned on and on. The Führer's interest in details had never been great. His attention, never receptive to bad news, wandered. He looked out the window. There were pines visible through them. The sun was shining and the wooded scene was peaceful. But he drew no comfort from it. Only when General Heusinger mentioned major cities or places that sounded familiar did Hitler lean forward. Whenever he did so, he picked up the magnifying glass from the table to read the fine print of the names on the vast expanses of mapscape through which the Bolsheviks were pushing his armies backwards towards the sacred soil of the Reich. Let them come. Once the V-weapons have battered Britain into submission, they will be turned on them. I will rain a hail of destruction down on Moscow, on Leningrad on any urban area the Bolsheviks still have.
He looked up and nodded as Keitel entered the room, accompanied by an officer with only one hand, covered by a dark glove, and a black eye patch. Upright, short dark hair and active despite his crippling injures, eye staring straight at him. Stauffenberg, yes it was the heroic young Colonel who had chosen to stay at his post and continue his work for the Fatherland, rather than hide and rot on some family estate like so many of his other generals no doubt would have preferred to do. Adolf Hitler reached out and shook the Colonel's three-fingered gloved hand.
'Count Stauffenberg, Chief of Staff, Home Army' Keitel announced in a voice low enough not to interfere with Heusinger's presentation.
Another junker. Their eyes locked and Hitler drew back in surprise. The Colonel's dark eyes held his gaze. The intensity sent a cold chill down the Führer's spine. The energy radiating from this man was tangible. Heusinger's mention of another major location on the map gave him the excuse to turn back to the table. Hitler had always trusted his sixth sense and he was suddenly uncomfortable. Was this crippled, hardworking junker a threat? Heusinger mentioned another major town, temporarily distracting Hitler. What was going on the Eastern Front?
Keitel gestured for an adjutant standing next to Heusinger to make room for Stauffenberg. The Colonel moved to the table and placed his briefcase on the floor. He glanced to his left: only Heusinger stood between him and the Führer. Even though the distance was nearly two meters, it would work. To his right was Heusinger's deputy Colonel Brandt. Stieff had once mentioned him as a potential sympathizer. The blast would certainly kill him. It could not be helped.
He nudged the briefcase under the table in the direction of Hitler. Suddenly there was resistance. Stauffenberg glanced under the table. Damnation! A massive support slab blocked his way. Not merely a leg, this solid piece of oak extended the width of the table - tantamount, in effect, to sturdy waist-high partitions. On top of this rested a solid oak tabletop nearly ten centimetres thick. A formidable barrier.[21] Had the conference been held in the underground bunker as planned this would have been irrelevant. Detonated underground in a concrete structure even a quarter of the hexite would have killed everyone present. But would it would do in this flimsy pre-fabricated structure with open windows was anyone's guess. There was no way he could manoeuvre the briefcase to the other side of the pedestal without pushing across Heusinger and attracting attention. He would have to chance it. Thank God for the second bomb. It should be enough.' Please God, for my people'. Twelve thirty-six. Only five minutes to go.
He had to make a choice. If he stayed he would be able to fling himself and the briefcase at the Führer thus ensuring their mutual death when the bomb went off. The problem was that he could not be exactly sure when that would be. If he left too early, it might arose suspicion. It could not be helped he had to risk it. He backed away from the table and scanned the room. Hitler was leaning forward again, propping himself up on his right elbow, a bunch of coloured pencils in his right hand, magnifying glass in the left, trying to find another places on the long list of locations that Heusinger listed as taken by the Russians in the wake of Army Group Centre's collapse. Stauffenberg glanced at the clean shaven Assistant Chief of Staff who stood indicating the Russian advance marked out as pointing directly at East Prussia. No-one in the Wolf's Lair could fail to be interested in the progress of this thrust. This was his chance.
He turned and whispered to Keitel's aide standing behind him. 'I have to make an urgent phone call to get the final information for my presentation for the Führer. I will be right back.' A nod. Gently Stauffenberg started weaving his way towards the door. The aide was following him. Two more steps and Stauffenberg was out. Twelve- thirty eight; three minutes.
At the door Keitel’s aide drew level with him, a questioning look on his face. 'I have to get that additional information from Berlin otherwise my report to the Führer will not be complete'. The young officer motioned to one of the operators in the anteroom and Stauffenberg picked up a set of earphones. A glance told him that the aide was on his way back to the presentation. Like master like aide, not one to miss a moment of his masters presence. Without another thought Stauffenberg dismissed the man from his mind.
Another glance told him that apart from the operator sitting at the distribution board, no-one else was paying him the slightest attention. He put down the headphones. The operator shrugged. 'Sorry Herr Oberst, there's no line available. I could try the Main Communications Room.'
'Not to worry. I will go there myself' In two quick steps he was out of the anteroom and on his way. In steady determined strides he covered the distance to the main Communications Building in a minute. Here General Fellgiebel awaited him as planned, visibly relieved at his appearance.
The General's voice was cracking with nervousness. 'Is everything alright?'
'Yes General everything is as planned. Just a few minutes to go'
Together they waited in the shade of the building. A subordinate signals officer joined them compelling them to maintain a mindless dialogue about which car Stauffenberg should take to the landing strip. The sweat on the young Colonel's forehead was only partially due to the relentless stuffy heat. Twelve-forty-one, time was up.
Inside the hut Heusinger was winding down which was just as well. Hitler, never the most attentive listener was now truly unhappy. But not, it seemed, at the hapless Deputy Army Chief of Staff; there was something else preying on the Führer's mind. A sixth sense that had saved him so many times before from danger, told Adolf Hitler that something was wrong. It was not the upcoming meeting with the Duce. He looked around, noticing Stauffenberg was missing. The ever attentive Keitel followed his eyes and noticed it too. Increasingly nervous, Heusinger rushed to end the report. He pointed to the Russian advance south of Lake Peipus.
" The Red Army is driving relentlessly south of Dünaburg. If we do not withdraw our forces from around the Lake, they are in danger of being cut off...."
Suddenly he had the Führer's attention. Another withdrawal. Could these cowards not conceive of anything else? Adolf Hitler leaned forward on the table. The map showing the area mentioned was placed slightly away. Hitler angrily pushed himself forward until his body was basically resting on the table his feet dangling in mid-air. Others leaned forward. One of then found Stauffenberg’s briefcase in the way and reached down. In one quick motion he pushed it out of the way; away from Hitler. For a moment the room was silent while Hitler fiddled with his glasses. Twelve forty-two.
Stauffenberg's absence distracted Keitel. A stern questioning look to his aide elicited a shrug. 'The Colonel went to get important information from Berlin for his presentation ' he whispered. Keitel felt a bureaucrat’s storm building inside him. He
had warned Stauffenberg about keeping to a schedule and now the man's insolence threatened to disrupt his carefully maintained timetable...He had only a microsecond left in which to begin contemplating a dressing down before a blue and yellow flash of fire ripped through the room.
From their position Stauffenberg saw a flash and timbers flying. Both feigned alarm. The signals officer who had been looking in another direction dismissed the explosion.
'It is nothing Herr Oberst' he insisted to Stauffenberg. Most probably just an animal triggering one of the mines. Happens all the time. 'He did not even bother turning around to see the poisonous pall of sulphuric smoke rise above the shattered barracks building.
'If you say so Major' Stauffenberg could barely keep his voice from breaking. He turned to Fellgiebel' Well, General. Thank you. I will be on my way. ' And in a lower voice he added 'Good luck' The smaller officer merely gripped the Colonel's crippled hand and nodded. For a second Stauffenberg's fingers held him like a vice. Then the Colonel was gone.
As the yellow flash cracked through the room, Hitler felt himself lifted upwards. His initial instinct was that of an aerial bomb.[22] 'The swine are bombing us' went through his mind as the blast wave lifted the oak table top beneath him and ripped large chunk away. He heard a distinct double-crack - the noise of the explosion and that of his own eardrums bursting. The pressure of the blast wave sucked air from his lungs and seemed to be crushing his rib cage. Two seconds later the shattered oak panel with him still on top crashed to the floor and disintegrated. He felt thousand of stings in his lower abdomen as the oak splinters entered his legs and lower body. The shattered oak panel came to rest at a skew angle and he rolled sideways a savage pain ripping through his right shoulder and elbow as some sharp object cut through his skin. All around was dense smoke and shattered wood. Briefing papers settled erratically amidst the chaos.
The Valkyrie Option Page 5
