The Valkyrie Option

by Markus Reichardt

  It was Speidel who, to the surprise of the British, responded. ' We are fully aware of the Casablanca Declaration even though we have never understood what purpose it served other than to stiffen the determination of Hitler's clique. As a member of the opposition to the National Socialist regime I can say that it has always made our work more difficult. In fact without it we would possibly have had this conversation a year ago and many deaths, both German and Allied, could have been avoided. But to answer your question: We understand the Casablanca Declaration as being applicable to Hitler's Government, not a new regime seeking peace and a redress of the wrongs inflicted on the world and the German people by his regime. That is the precedent set by yourselves in Italy after the fall of Mussolini. It was our understanding from the contacts with your emissaries in Switzerland and Sweden over the past years that a new government would not be bound by this once we had proven our credentials by removing Hitler.' That was stretching the truth but not entirely incorrect. OSS Station Chief in Switzerland Allen Dulles had in his discussion with the Resistance emissaries hinted at but never confirmed this. 'A new Government has been set up. For your information we have prepared a list of the Cabinet members as well a brief biographical note on each.' Eager to get off the topic, Speidel slid a note across the desk.'

  'You have not mentioned the Soviet Union'

  'Nein, ve have not 'Rommel's voice was hard and precise. He looked at Speidel to continue. 'We seek peace in the west so that we can protect the Reich and indeed Europe from the Bolsheviks. It is their expansionist designs which we must as Europeans seek to thwart. We believe this is a cause that we all share.'

  That comment sparked an uproar. French and American officers began speaking at the same time and for a minute the debate decayed into grandstanding and monologues by the juniors. Monty and Brooke allowed them a few moments to vent their emotions and then cut them short with a barked ‘Silence’.

  Sensing Monty's anger Rommel signalled Speidel to move ahead in his prepared speech:

  'Field Marshall Brooke, Field Marshall Montgomery, I suggest we return to the matter at hand. The military reality. ' He paused for a flustered American to regain his seat. 'We have implemented point one of our plan - the immediate cessation of hostilities towards any of your forces. As we speak the last of our U-Boats are being contacted by wireless. By eight p.m. tonight Berlin time, all will have received the new orders. We have also unilaterally suspended all V-rocket attacks against Britain or any Allied-occupied soil. No more V Rockets.’ He paused for effect. The V-1 rockets were a matter of serious concern for the Allies as their effect on civilian morale had indeed been nearly everything the Germans could have hoped for. Although the British would not tell the Germans till after the war, the - rockets were hurting British morale more than it had ever been hurt during the dark days of the 1940 Blitz. Neither side noticed that Luftwaffe sorties against Allied forces went unmentioned. It was little wonder; while the Luftwaffe's IX Air Fleet had managed to harass the D-day preparations, it had virtually ceased to operate over England since the invasion.

  ' As for point two, at nightfall our troops will begin their withdrawal all across France and other occupied territories. It is our intention to make a phased and orderly withdrawal that will ensure that within 120 days no German soldier will be west, north or south Reich's borders without your agreement. The purpose of this meeting is to discuss this withdrawal to ensure that it can occur in a mutually agreeable fashion.

  When Speidel had finished Brooke cut in. 'Why should we allow your army to retreat in good order so that it may live to fight another day? After all it is us who is winning; and not just on this front I might add.'

  'That may be correct Field Marshall' Rommel's voice was strangely calm. 'But your forces have not been able to break out of the bridgehead. It has been six weeks, how long can you hold on? Like us, you have sustained large-scale casualties. But your desired break-out continues to elude you. And the political cost of that I do not need to point out is higher to you than us. Especially with an American election coming up.'

  Patton was on his feet. 'Bugger politics when that break-out comes it will tear your lines to shreds. Then we'll chase you all right back to Berlin....'

  'General Patton !' Brooke's voice was like a gunshot. 'Be so kind as to sit down. I will not have this meeting disrupted any further. ' Hesitatingly the tall American complied.

  'Sir if I may' ...Brigadier Williams, Monty’s intelligence officer piped up 'General Patton is right and Field Marshall Rommel is aware of it too. The German front-line is dangerously overstretched - a breakthrough is inevitable now. Once it succeeds there will be no reserves behind the line to stop it. I have the numbers here if you would care for me to repeat them '

  Montgomery cast the man a venomous look. That's what you've been saying for the last three weeks you bastard. And my lads have been paying for it in blood. Maybe you forgot to tell that to Rommel and his 88 mm tank killing Flak guns. 415 Allied tanks had been destroyed in the three days of Operation GOODWOOD and he had taken serious heat for not penetrating the German line despite a murderous bombardment and decent air support. There were officers American and British, calling for his head. Even the PM, Brooke had hinted, had openly voiced doubts.

  Rommel broke the uncomfortable silence: 'I know nichts about politics, but the reality is that you are already behind plan.' He glanced at von Roenne's note 'We know from prisoners that your plan aims to reach the German border sometime towards the end of the year. We are offering you the achievement of your objective without further deaths.'

  He had them and both Brooke and Montgomery knew it. In the week prior to D-Day Montgomery's Military Assistant, Lt.-Col. Kit Dawnay had at his master's instigation hung up a map in the planning room showing the northwest of France with coloured phase lines showing the approximate lines allied armies were to have reached during the first three months of the campaign. It was now D-Day +45 and the line for that day ran from a point on the coast more than 50 kilometers east of Caen in a wide semi-circle well to the east of Falaise, through Le Mans all the way to the Brittany coast at the mouth of the Loire, cutting off the Breton Peninsula. In reality, Allied armies occupied an area barely a sixth of that. Parts of Caen, scheduled to be taken on D-Day, still remained in German hands while the front was still forty kilometers away from Falaise. Montgomery's opponents, especially his critics in Eisenhower's headquarters had recently taken to using the map as proof of the Field Marshall's failure. Rommel could not possibly know about that map but German intelligence had obviously spotted the increasingly public criticism voiced in the Allied press about the failure of the promised break-out. Furthermore the Desert Fox could not possibly have missed the large-scale Allied casualties. The Desert Fox also gambled on something else: bottled up in the Normandy bridgehead as they were, the Allies could only land a finite amount of supplies for their forces. The recent capture of Cherbourg had not changed that since the port facilities were in total ruin. It was unlikely that the Allies possessed sufficient supplies to maintain a steady advance over a wide front for a sustained period of time. In short order the German withdrawal, even if they contested it, would outrun them halfway en route to Germany. Rommel had set plans for the withdrawal in motion before this meeting. At the time he had been very doubtful of his ability to pull it off. But listening to the Allied commanders, and their failure to reject his offer out of hand gave him heart. Possibly it could work. Maybe a bit of bluffing would help.

  He signalled for Speidel to translate as he began to speak slowly 'The alternative to your acceptance will be a fighting retreat by the Wehrmacht across France. The strategic result would be largely the same except that hundreds, possibly thousands would have needlessly died.' A last glance at von Roenne's note before his gaze settled on Montgomery. "Field Marschall Montgomery ! You and I fought in North Afrika and we fought as professionals, we, our officers, our men, always conscious of the need to abide by certain standards, always conscious tha
t the lives of many young men were entrusted to our judgement. I have begun writing a book about it. I gave it the title Krieg ohne Hass – War without Hate.'

  He paused for Speidel catch up. His gaze swept the room and in an instant he knew, like an officer briefing new recruits knew, he had their attention. ' We understand that during training for this campaign you came up with a new variant to the age-old question which every drill sergeant asks the lower ranks. You ask each man what his most valuable possession is.' He paused, his eyes locking into Montgomery's. ' And you invariably get the response, 'my rifle, sir' Is that correct ?'

  'Indeed it is' Montgomery had gone white, his voice barely a whisper 'And I tell him no it isn't, it’s your life and I am going to save it for you.' All those memories came flooding back; for months before D-Day Monty had toured every unit of every nationality involved in the landings, spoken to hundreds possibly thousands of gatherings, including civilians. What he had seen were Commonwealth forces stretched their limit, civilians demoralised by more than four years of war and deprivation. Young boys whose fathers were never coming back, asking why. He was staring down at the table averting everyone's eyes. All their sacrifice… from his days as a young officer in the bloody and muddy trenches of the First World War France, he has sworn never to waste the lives of men entrusted to him needlessly. His father had been a man of God and he had stressed the sanctity of life.[32] With a deep breath he returned Rommel's gaze. 'Yes Field Marshal we have a responsibility to our men.' That was all he would say.

  There was a pregnant silence that Alan Brooke broke by getting onto the subject of the ceasefire and prisoner exchanges, matters that were quickly resolved as the Germans were only too eager. Nevertheless the meeting ended without a formal commitment from the allied side. As they stood ready to leave Rommel walked over to Montgomery and held out his hand and with Speidel translating said. 'Thank you for this meeting. I realize it is all in the hands of the politicians now. As a professional officer you have my deepest respect for the way in which you and your troops have fought here and North Afrika. Perhaps one day we can both go to their graves and pay our respects.’

  There was no way Montgomery could refuse the offered hand. 'You are not so bad yourself Field Marshall' he heard himself say. Damn, he should have prepared himself better, the Desert Fox's unconventional ways had gotten the better of him. Neither he nor Brooke noticed Oberleutnant Lang snap a few quick photographs of this historic handshake.

  Pumped with adrenaline the three Germans headed for the Mercedes. Speidel's head was spinning with the comments of Brooke. Formally they had nothing but they also had not been thrown out on their ear. It was clear the allies did not know just how thin the German line was stretched.

  On the way back to his car, Rommel suddenly stopped a meter away from his car. There were more than two hundred allied soldiers gathered, most of them British, all oblivious to the drizzling rain. During the years in Africa, Rommel had imprinted his image on the enemy, even those not susceptible to German propaganda. He had done so by his military successes, by the demonstration of extraordinary resourcefulness and energy, by his (at least to the 8th Army soldiers) painfully obvious superiority in speed of reaction and flexibility of mind. There was something else, something unproveable, something experienced only by the unlucky few who were captured, and then incommunicable, something which had become part of the Rommel legend; his chivalry, his essential decency, what the British thought of as fairness.[33][34]

  Rommel's gaze fixed on one of the officers standing in the crowd, a worn, spare figure with a short-cropped moustache, General Richard O'Connor. O'Connor had been one of Rommel's first British prisoners at the outset of the Afrikakorps triumphs in 1941. He had escaped from an Italian POW camp in 1943 and now commanded the tanks of VII Corps. They had met only once, in April 1941 when O'Connor was on his way to an Italian POW camp. O'Connor held his former captors gaze. It took less than a second in reality but both men would subsequently record in their diaries that time seemed to stand still.

  Rommel took two steps towards O'Connor and saluted. 'General O'Connor ! Good Day. Gut to see you.' Without Speidel to hand, his English was limited. O'Connor felt a million eyes on him that second and would have preferred to have been anywhere else at that moment including the former POW camp, but he just could not help himself. His hand shot out in a military salute that would have made any angry drill sergeant proud. Lang's camera was out to capture the moment without intruding.

  'And you Field Marshall. Better for me this time.'

  A smile slid across Rommel’s features when he pointed at the man next to O'Connor; a major wearing the insignia of the 7th Armoured the famous Desert Rat who had led the pursuit of Rommel’s defeated Afrikakorps after El Alamein. Pointing with his marshal staff he asked,

  'Seventh British Panzer ? Desert Rats, Ja ?'

  'Yes, Field Marshall' the surprised major stammered, also instinctively snapping to attention.

  'Good soldiers. My respect.' Rommel nodded. 'We are all soldiers. War is over.' He saluted. Totally instinctively the major's hand rushed to his cap in a responding salute. By the time his brain had caught up with his action, it was done.

  'What on earth does he think he's doing' Patton squeaked venomously.

  'He's working the crowd General, he's working the crowd' Brooke was almost smiling. As one man the assembled Allied soldiers returned Rommel's salute, caught in the magic that the Desert Fox had worked. For a second there was nothing but the respect of professionals between the two sides. Then it was gone.

  A last nod and Erwin Rommel got into his car.

  'The bastard' Montgomery hissed. 'Next thing they'll make him an honorary officer of the Realm.'

  'Easy, my friend' Field Marshall's Brooke's hand rested on Monty's shoulder. 'He is a great man and a great soldier.... Pity he's not one of ours.'

  'Yes but what, sir, do we do about him' Bradley had quietly joined them, leaving the fuming Patton standing alone at the tent's entrance. Montgomery admired this quiet American. Bradley was the kind of professional he always sought to be, always business. Instinctively, he knew that Bradley, alone among the Americans had understood his dilemma in the tent.

  Montgomery turned to his superior. "You do realise he has got us over the withdrawal? What good is possession of terrain when your opponent does not aim to possess it? Short of charging straight after him right now, breaking the truce of his white flag and hoping to carry the day there will be little we can do to prevent him from withdrawing and following him across France. It might sound like North Africa all over again but it will not be.'

  Bradley sighed, 'You might want to tell me how to broach this to Ike. He's been betting on Operation Cobra to get us out of Normandy for weeks now. Can you think of a better way of telling him than .. ‘Sorry but the Germans are pulling back anyway.'?

  Both Brooke and Monty turned on their American colleague. Neither caring particularly for the General Eisenhower, they had easily forgotten him in the heat of the moment. Monty tugged at his tunic to prevent further drizzle from slipping through.

  'The Prime Minister will not be happy with this'

  'Oh, I quite agree, Field Marshall, ' Brooke said unusually formally before the irony cracked his voice. 'But I think that the Prime Minister's unhappiness will be largely due to his having missed this historic occasion. I think it's time for us to be on our way now to make our report to him and Eisenhower. Let’s see if they can live with the 90 day withdrawal timeframe we suggested. Then we will worry about the Russian front and all those other political issues.’ He cast a sideways glance to where the French General was standing. ‘Right now I suggest we not drop our guard but for the time being let’s keep that truce going until we hear differently from the Prime Minister. As the man said we have a responsibility to our men.'

  Even though Montgomery knew that his old friend had not meant it as a taunt, it stung nonetheless. Among his own, caring for his men was something Montgomery would alw
ays hold high. And he knew that in his memoirs he would cite that, and that alone as the reason[35]. But he had given the Germans the moral opening. That encounter Rommel had won. But to have it used by what was still the enemy, had been galling. The dreadful thing was, it had felt right. IF the war could be decided this way, without further bloodshed. In comparison what were a mere three months, if British military power could be preserved. Bloody politicians and their egghead egos. Shaking his head he followed Brooke and Bradley through the mud back into the tent.

  3:30pm

  22nd July

  Eastern Lithuania

  Their headlong dash westwards was finally running out of steam. 31 year-old Captain Georgi Gubkin took off his cap, settled on a log and watched the rest of first battalion, 184 Infantry Division come to a stop around him. The men were exhausted; most just dropped where they stood. Since setting off before sunrise that morning, the 1st Battalion had covered nearly 20 kilometres. Only once had they encountered a small group of Germans, a scattered remnant of the Vilnius garrison that the Russian 3rd Byelorussian Front had crushed in the past week. There had not been much of a fight. Now his men needed rest. Here they would wait until ordered to pursue a retreating enemy once again. The lanky, sunburnt captain gave orders to set up a temporary position and then turned his attention to a tear in his leather boot. Normally he would have caught this earlier but in the past few days there had just been no time between advances, fire fights with remnants of German units and some short, fitful naps.