Right now, Meeks tell me will I have use of this arm and my hand again’. The look said it all, Meeks eyes darted to the ground, the ceiling and there was no answer. ‘I ..I right don’t know General. I am no medical man. I..’
‘Meeks ,.. please spare me the bullshit. Am I a cripple? Or am I going to be one.‘
‘You took a very nasty hit into the shoulder area General, the Germans did their best. I honestly believe them when they said they did. The cast is big and I have no idea what’s underneath.‘
‘Well then get me someone who can tell me..…NOW!’ Meeks was out of the room in a second . There was certainly nothing wrong with Patton’s spirit.
He returned with a doctor nearly half an hour later and the news was bad. The chances of George Patton ever having more than partial use of his arm again were minimal. The use of his hand where the bullet had blown the Colt away would also be limited. The shoulder joint had been crushed by the impact of two pieces of shrapnel and the tissue damage around it was too extensive too allow for a full recovery. ‘One day General, building on cases like yourself, we may learn how to regrow tissue and bone. Right now, all I can say is that we do not have to amputate the arm. We and the Germans have taken out all the loose bits that might get in the way but you should get used to doing things mostly with one hand. Your other injuries, though..’
‘Never mind. Thank you doctor. Please do not mention this conversation to anyone else. Have there been any visitors or messages? Quietly the doctor shook his head.
Their eyes met and Patton stretched back. Thank you Doctor.’ He closed his eyes.
When the doctor had left he turned to Meeks. So now that I know how useless I am, tell me are we still advancing ?
That we are General, and at the same rate as before. ‘Where is our command post now Meeks, and hey for that matter where are we.’
‘General, there is no command. By order of General Eisenhower the 3rd Army was disbanded and divided up between the forces of Generals Bradley and Montgomery. They were appointed joint field commanders two days ago. There’s a letter here for your attention when you were well enough to read it.’
The world seemed to spin for a moment. He remembered Eisenhower’s warning about what would happen if things went wrong. There would be disgrace. He would be disowned. Then George Patton leaned forward. Meeks, there is one favour I have to ask of you. ….
Chapter 5
Berlin
August 22th
'The Reds are on the move again.' von Witzleben looked pale as he approached the great map of Europe that had become a permanent fixture of the Cabinet meeting room. He pointed 'Here in the Balkans. They are pushing into Romania and Bulgaria. The latter is likely to welcome them with open arms.'
'How is the fight going ?' as always Leber was the first to ask a question.
'Badly I fear. Our men are being cut to shreds. Army Group South Ukraine is in the process of disintegrating. The Rumanian 3rd Army and our 6th Army are either on the run or encircled. The Rumanian coastal plain will be open to the Soviet armoured columns within a day at the most. We just have nothing to stop them with down there. The few regiments from Greece were a drop in the ocean.'
'What vital interests do we still have in Rumania, Chancellor.’ Leuschner asked.
Goerdeler gave it a few moments thought. 'That depends on just how critical the Rumanian oil is to our efforts. '
A quick glance at von Witzleben and Speer told him all he needed to know. 'Critical, but since we do not possess adequate forces to hold the advancing Russians it seems we will have to live without it. I just hope that the Rumanians continue resistance long enough to let Army Group E and Army Group F get out of Greece and across most of Yugoslavia in time. We may have to consider reconstituting a new front somewhere along the Hungarian border.' the old Prussian was clearly pained at the situation. 'There is precious little we can do about it.'
Albert Speer who had regained some of his self-confidence over the past two weeks forced a grin. 'Well the good news is that apart from the oil we will not be losing to much of strategic importance.' His attempt at black humour went down like a lead balloon.
By August 24th, the 2nd and 3rd Ukrainian Fronts had achieved strategic breakthroughs, completely encircling the 18 divisions of German Army Group Süd Ukraine, which had to be completely removed from the German order of battle, seven Rumanian divisions the core of the Army had also ceased to exist. The Rumanian king also chose this moment to dismiss his pro-German government and called on his troops to evict the Germans from the country. The response was very uneven, given that many units had fought on the Eastern front since 1941 and there were over 50 000 Rumanians of German ancestry organized in paramilitary units who continued their opposition to the Red Army advances. The Ploesti oil-fields fell to the Red Army supported by some Rumanian units on August 30 1944. The next day a new government took power in Bucharest and made peace with Russia. Germany’s fuel supplies were cut by more than half.
August 30th was also the day the last of the Wehrmacht rear guard units abandoned their positions along the Po River and headed north for the Alps. After three weeks of near-anarchy in Italy, both German and Allied commanders had found common cause in venting their anger at the querulous Italian factions. Leaving the politicians in Rome to continue the debating festival over the fate of Mussolini, the military men placed the country under martial law. Two partisan raids - one by Communist partisans on an American supply dump and another on a German field hospital had led to serious consequences and for a moment all sides just eyed each other warily. Then a German commander – an engineer by training - had suggested to his Allied counterpart that the destruction of the last major bridges over Italy's largest river would place a major burden on the country's post-war reconstruction effort and had offered that in return for not dropping them, the allies in his sector would allow his troops to retreat to the Alps. As a freebee, the Germans would leave behind certain heavy equipment as well as some unlooted wine cellars. Though all sides would subsequently deny that negotiations ever took place, or that wine cellars were ever mentioned, the German retreat from August 29th onwards became more orderly. Freed of much of its heavy equipment, the remaining units streamed northwards. By September 2nd allied units reached Trieste. By September 22nd, the last German units crossed over the Italian border into Austria, with allied mechanized units trailing them at a more leisurely pace.
The withdrawal had been far more chaotic than Berlin had hoped for but apart from the loss of most of its heavy equipment in the theatre, Germany had managed to withdraw most of its troops for redeployment along the new defensive line it was setting up to halt the Soviet juggernaut powering up through the Balkans. As a strategic setback it was a minor issue for the new men in Berlin, but unbeknown to them it had major repercussions in the Allied camp.
August 24th
Orleans
US Third Army field Hospital
It was night and he had now had ample time to think about his decision. Patton’s hand closed around the empty syringe the faithful Meeks had procured along with a few vials of morphine. It had pained him to deceive the faithful NCO who had been with him through good and bad times. But Meeks would not have understood. He was an orderly, not a warrior. Meeks lacked enough medical knowledge to understand. Patton had not touched the vials of morphine. What he had done was to write with great difficulty, a note that absolved his faithful servant of any guilt. Another, longer letter had been for his wife, she would need to know everything. In the end it ran to more than 7 pages but she needed to know that, he owed her that much for all those years of unwavering support. A final one to his commander, this one much shorter for a part of Patton would not forgive Eisenhower could have come to his aid if he had wanted to, if he not been such a politician in uniform. But privately Patton for all his bluster was a realist. If he had been victorious, it would have been a demonstration of his superior talent. Defeat was something to be excused or denied and regrets w
ere confined to letters of condolences.
It was done. With an effort he plunged the empty vial into the vein of his upper leg. It would take about half an hour but it would be painless and final. Patton closed his eyes and began to prey to the God he knew was waiting for him.
In the final moments, as he could feel his life slip away from the effects of the poisoning, he felt sadness. …, she deserved better. His President and his commander well they had to live with it. He, George Patton, alone had gambled to bring honour to the flag in this war. And he had lost that gamble. He alone would take the consequences. His father, who for a lifetime he had been trying to please, would have been proud of his strength and resolve. And with that sense of contentment General George S Patton died.
August 25th
Defence Ministry
London
‘Patton Dead’ The headline was unavoidable in its size. The recently appointed Chief Inspector of the British Army, Field Marshall Bernard Law Montgomery stared at the paper in disbelief. Funny, he thought how we notice the passing of one of our generals but not the thousands of men we send into the meat grinder every day. Since his sacking he had smarted in this new very obviously ceremonial post that his friend Alan Brooke had secured for him after Ike had sacked him. The shock had taken a few days to sink in. More than once he had started to give orders only to realize that although he had a staff, there were no real orders to give.
For days he had paced the London Offices of the Defence Ministry before realising that no-one really wanted too much to do with him at the moment. There were a few installations to visit or inspect but he did not feel like it. Once the ceremonial nature of his job had sunk in he had visited his wife’s grave and then headed off to see his son at boarding school. The anger and frustration had boiled over as father and son had walked in the school gardens trying to communicate, something Monty realised he had always been bad at when it came to his only child.
The fact that David had endorsed his decision had brought them closer and for the first time Monty had actually sought his son’s opinion on a matter of substance. ‘So what if Rommel caught you out. So what if he ambushed you with that picture. You will achieve the same territorial gains, in about the same time with hopefully no more dead, right?’ His son had asked ‘Yes, yes David I suppose that is true’ was all he had managed to press out between clenched teeth. But the look that passed between father and son was warm. And for that Britain’s Field Marshall was grateful. His son, left to his own devices of all those years, understood that Monty was tired of shedding blood without purpose. David clinched the matter by stating the obvious: ‘Your decision means that more sons will see their fathers again.” Monty’s mother had always treated him with callous severity but now he knew that he could still overcome that legacy with his son.
Back in London he had busied himself getting a better handle on the manpower situation of the Commonwealth and following Patton’s charge across France when it happened. Publicly he had po-poed the raid but privately a small part of him acknowledged that given half an opportunity he could have been tempted to try something similarly spectacular himself; possibly something combining paratroops and tanks seizing key bridges all the way to the Rhine. Well it would never happen. And in any case Patton’s venture had ended in failure and humiliation. Strategically Monty realised it had achieved little; politically it had weakened the allies badly. The military censors had clamped down on any information concerning the survivors of the ill-fated raid. Now the man who led it was dead. Officially due to complications from the wounds he had sustained trying to break out of the encirclement.
Monty looked at the picture accompanying the story; his mind’s eye went back to the few occasions the two had met. In Sicily they had been rivals, bitter rivals. They had conducted war in completely different ways. Patton had always been impulsive, a warrior guided to an undue extent by his emotions. Monty abhorred that. War, especially offensive war had to be planned. Since his battlefield experiences in the Great War, Patton had always rushed in impervious to the dangers of the situation. A pity he had not died by the sword that he had so fervently sought to live by. And most convenient for him to be out of the way. It would save Ike having to explain how this entire episode could have happened. Patton and Ike had gone to West Point and although Patton was the senior of the two he had always deferred to Eisenhower. In turn Eisenhower had stood by his man when Patton’s temper and style got him into trouble. Had Patton done the honourable thing for Eisenhower now?
The thought stuck with him longer than it should have. Then suddenly he shot out of his chair, barking orders down the phone. That night he and three of his closest staff not including the faithful but exhausted Freddie De Guignand headed for France ‘ to inspect the troops’ their first destination the field hospital where Patton had died. Monty’s instincts had generally been true, and if there was a chance, just a slight chance of getting back at Ike, then he would take it.
* * *
Few countries love their liberators once the cheering dies away
Anthony Beevor [72]
August 24th
Paris
In Paris Charles de Gaulle was getting rather impatient with his countrymen, let alone the Americans. His troops had just discovered that their inability to get supplies from the Americans was not due to logistical problems but to a Presidential instruction. For the moment the General could live with that, it would help unify the nation. So he made no effort to contain the news. His problem was that French politics was quickly reasserting itself factitious self and that the Resistance, especially the Communists were moving into open opposition. As always de Gaulle failed to appreciate the positions of others, and was thus unable to gauge the depth of the resentment among all parts of the resistance – communist or not – at the way that the ‘London men’ as de Gaulle’s group was called, had expected obedience and loyalty from a resistance that had sprung up under German occupation quite independent of de Gaulle’s efforts. Just as he was unable to acknowledge the real problems and perils of being on the ground under German rule, de Gaulle was now increasingly perceived as being out of touch with popular sentiment. And popular sentiment in a movement which remained armed. As the American refusal to supply his units would go on, so the balance of power would shift. Within weeks his aides warned the tanks would be useless and it would be back to handguns and hand grenades for both sides. Although he outwardly gave no appearance of concern, Charles de Gaulle knew they were right. For the moment he hoped to bluff his way through. If that did not work he would consider alternatives. In the meantime he would seek popular support by publicly standing up to that insidious ex-German in American uniform General Eisenhower. The Patton fiasco had weakened the Allied Commander and there were rumours he would be replaced soon. For France and Charles de Gaulle that could offer the best opportunity forward. Sympathetic as the British might be publicly, de Gaulle knew that Churchill was no friend of a strong France.
August 25th
Munich
Germany
As the train approached the small railway station in Munich’s suburb, Michael Wittman found that his usual patience was no longer with him. Before the locomotive and the three carriages came to a full stop he yanked open the door and leapt onto the platform. It had been nearly six months since he had seen his wife Hilde, and that had been on their honeymoon in March. With the Leibstandarte joining the long line of divisions being moved to the Eastern Front, he had begged, borrowed and stolen his way to the divisional commander and received forty-eight hours leave, while his division was passing through Germany. Nearly a quarter of his comrades had done the same. With the clock ticking he had not even grabbed more than an overnight change of clothing calling in a favour from his driver to send a telegram to Hilde to meet him at the station.
The photo he carried of her had already worn edges. In it a young brunette with shy but intelligent eyes smiled at him. The thought of her petite figure, her delicate fingers, b
ut most of all her quick wit It had been a while since he had felt this kind of excitement. He had not heard from her in ten days but that did not worry him. Pretty much every unit on the move left the German Feldpost behind for a while.
Where was she ? The train pulled out of the station and the platform emptied. Few people paid him a second glance, uniforms remained common, even Waffen-SS Panzer uniforms.
'Captain, may I help you ?' The stationmaster, a silver-haired, one-legged war veteran hobbled towards him, straightening up when he saw the decorations.
Michael was lost. She knew he was coming. She had to. Hilde was always on time, she always made such a point of doing so.
'I am waiting for someone,..’ he looked at the man, 'my wife.' The stationmaster could have been his father.
'She knows you're coming?' There was a cautious undertone, that immediately worried the Panzer commander.
'Yes, ...yes she does. She does not live far from here. Michael gave the address.
A shadow passed over the veteran's face. A heavy sigh. 'That area was hit by the Scheiss Amis yesterday afternoon. I think they were aiming for the marshalling yards around here. ' He pointed and Wittman saw what he meant; smoke rose ominously from the direction. He suddenly started running, everything else forgotten HILDE ! No it could not be.
"Make sure you check with police headquarters, they will know if there were casualties,... they will know where the injured were taken.' The stationmaster shouted. Michael was already running
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