Guderian’s negotiating methods are well illustrated in his relationship with the top men in the attempt to diminish Hitler’s authority over the Army. Like his strategic and tactical approaches, they were indirect to begin with but finally looked like hammer blows, aimed straight at the target. Feeling sure of Speer and Dietrich, and at least on good terms with Goebbels (while dismissing Göring as of little assistance by reason of his laziness) he began by tackling Himmler but ‘received an impression of impenetrable obliquity’. This was hardly surprising from the man who was the Army’s deadliest enemy. Probably Guderian had not realised this before. Nevertheless, in approaching Himmler first he exhibited political realism by recognising in the Head of the SS the most powerful figure next to Hitler. Having failed at the top he moved a rung further down. A few days later he approached Jodl and laid before him a plan for the reorganisation of the Supreme Command of which the vital part lay in the scheme that Hitler should cease to control the actual conduct of operations and confine himself to ‘… his proper field of activities, supreme control of the political situation and of the highest war strategy’. Believing that these proposals were bound to reach Hitler’s ears and being fully aware what the reaction must surely be, Guderian boldly placed his own head on the block. The outcome may have come as a surprise. Jodl, who was a devotee of outright control by OKW and who was unshakeably loyal to Hitler, merely put on a boot-face and asked, ‘Do you know of a better Supreme Commander than Adolf Hitler?’ Guderian says that he put his papers back in his brief case and left the room, but though this represented angry impetuosity there was nothing impetuous about his challenge, although there is no doubt that many in the hierarchy figured it as such – that being their customary assessment of Guderian’s normal behaviour. He was extraordinarily naive if he did not assume that a report would be made to Hitler; therefore he now sat back to await dismissal. But nothing happened at once: he was allowed to continue with the restoration of the panzer forces and assert whatever influence he could upon a system in decay. Whether or not Himmler or Jodl passed on Guderian’s remarks, there was only silence from Hitler.
In fact there was no other general than Guderian from whom Hitler took such affrontery and yet retained in his service. In January 1944 he actually created the opportunity to allow an airing of the subject of a readjusted command system by inviting Guderian to a private breakfast. The discussion opened with a quarrel as to the desirability of building a strong, lay-back defensive system covering Germany’s eastern frontier. Hitler argued, with a wealth of figures he had learnt by heart, that it was not feasible. Guderian claimed it was. The subject shifted to the question of the High Command. We only have Guderian’s word for what transpired but it appears that he desisted from telling Hitler to his face that he should limit his powers ‘since my indirect attempts … had failed’. Instead he proposed that a general Hitler trusted should be appointed as Chief of the Armed Services General Staff. Naturally Hitler recognised this thinly disguised attempt to whittle away his own powers: predictably he turned it down. Guderian drew the conclusion that there was not a single general whom Hitler did trust and began to ask himself the question, ‘To whom would Hitler turn eventually for help in running the Army? Would it be a soldier, an airman or a totally unqualified member of the Nazi Party? Could it possibly be a soldier who was outwardly loyal to Hitler but wholly committed to Germany?’
An appalling atmosphere of doom hung over Germany. Air raids made both night and day hideous with death and destruction while news of the contracting frontiers threatened a more dreadful fate when invading armies reached Germany, as surely they must that year unless a miracle occurred. With invasion imminent in the West, the number of fronts could be increased at a time when Germany’s resources were already stretched beyond the limit. Faced with these horrors and the knowledge that the man at the helm was incorrigible, those who sought his removal went more desperately to work in their different ways to bring this about. The most active party of conspirators, led by Beck, had taken fresh vigour when they were joined, as manager in May 1943, by the man who, in 1941, had tried to make Guderian C-in-C, the fanatically anti-Nazi Oberst Claus von Stauffenberg. Despite wounds received since 1941, this excellent staff officer put purpose into the detailed planning of a coup d’état which would embrace a take-over of Government by the Army, preceded by the assassination of Hitler and the arrest of the principal members of the Nazi Party and, of course, the SS. As cover for the putsch, a plan – called Operation Valkyrie – for the Army to deal with a mutiny by the SS or with unrest by the foreign workers in Germany was concocted. Inevitably many more people than those few behind the plot had to be brought in on the periphery. In consequence the risks of discovery were increased in the interests of achieving widespread effects: those generals who were infected with Nazism had to be excluded. It is instructive that, whatever Goebbels may have thought, the plotters did not believe Guderian to be that way politically inclined. He was kept aware of their presence not only by random contacts with Goerderler but also through Thomale. For although neither Guderian nor Thomale admit to complicity, Thomale is quoted as saying, in August 1943, to one of the inner ring of plotters, Generalmajor Helmuth Stieff, that Guderian ‘explicitly desisted from taking part because direct action against Hitler would be demanded’. Moreover it was Thomale who arranged the meeting between Tresckow and Guderian at the latter’s home and he who warned Tresckow not to mention Kluge’s involvement with the plot. But to quote Guderian’s son, Tresckow named Kluge and my father exploded in his bed … Thus the discussion was finished’. Clearly, therefore, Thomale was to some extent in the know and also aware of his chief s dilemma – the difficulty implicit in conscience concerning his oath to Hitler and the propriety of being complicit with murder, the application of judgement as to whether the conspirators’ plans would work and, if they failed, the horror of what damage would be done. It would have been surprising and impossible had things been otherwise between Commander and Chief of Staff.
Regularly Guderian was coming into collision with Hitler. His disapproval of ‘witch hunts’ directed against generals who had failed – or had appeared to fail – at the front was made plain. Thus he contributed to resistance (without perhaps intending to) by delaying inquiries of that nature for which he was made responsible. With regard to strategy in the field, he was not only in sharp disagreement over the conduct of operations in Russia, but also with defensive preparations in France where Hitler backed Rommel in his desire to position the mobile forces close to the coast. Guderian agreed with Rundstedt who, urged on by von Geyr, wished to have them located centrally. The outcome was a compromise between the two lines of thought, both of which had pronounced merits and demerits since the argument for holding the armour forward was based on Rommel’s fear of Allied air power. Of this Guderian had far less experience than Rommel, even though he admits to seeing for himself the impunity with which enemy aircraft in the West flew above the training areas and bombed as they chose.
Tragedy was in the making for Rommel. He was already committed in mind to an attempt at arranging separate armistice terms in the West and opening a gap for the Allies: and he had also been in contact with the principal conspirators. While somewhat ambivalent in his replies, he had stated to them: ‘I believe it my duty to come to the rescue of Germany’. From this the conspirators assumed that he would be prepared to accept a senior appointment in some future government and, though there is conflicting evidence in the matter, it seems almost certain that he was aware of this development and did not reject it out of hand. What he was unaware of until too late was that this damaging evidence had been put in writing by Goerdeler. Finally Rommel committed himself to a confrontation with Hitler by sending the Führer a flatly challenging report on 15th July. The Allied invasion had been launched into Normandy on 6th June and, through the most desperate efforts, had been contained within a relatively small bridgehead. To Hitler he now declared, with Kluge’s endorsement (as the new
C-in-C West): The troops are fighting heroically everywhere, but the unequal struggle is nearing its end’. To his Chief of Staff he said, ‘I have given him [Hitler] the last chance. If he does not take it we will act’ – by this meaning a separate armistice in the West. It is not clear, however, if Kluge was compliant to this part of the scheme. This far Guderian would not have gone on his own – and certainly not in company with Kluge.
Yet already in the first few days of July a separate and final decision had been taken by the leading exponents of assassination. Pressure, that accumulated from threats of disclosure, was heavy upon them. Allied attacks on all fronts seemed likely to cause a total collapse of the Wehrmacht and even more senior officers were now convinced that the war was lost. These officers, whose company included Rundstedt (who had handed over to Kluge), Kluge himself and Fromm, the Commander of the Replacement Army in Germany, prudently adopted Bock’s original attitude: ‘If you can pull it off I’ll join you but until then I’ll not help: if you fail, Heaven be your help because I will not.’
On 17th July Rommel was eliminated from participation in the plot when he was seriously wounded by an air attack. This removed a key figure, one who as a propaganda idol might have rallied popular support behind the conspiracy. Guderian, of course, was another such figure. He says that on 18th July a Luftwaffe officer ‘whom I had known in the old days’ came to inform him that Kluge was contemplating arranging a separate armistice in the West. That much is true, but it is not the whole truth. His informant, in fact, was none other than von Barsewisch, his Luftwaffe liaison officer in Russia in 1941; the man who had flown Guderian forty-eight times at the front and who, therefore, had a special relationship with him; an officer of panache and principle who, at his peril after Guderian’s dismissal, had criticised the Führer by holding – in Guderian’s absence – a parade in his honour and by extolling him in a speech in Berlin; who had kept contact with Guderian ever since and knew of his old commander’s opinion that Hitler was leading Germany to destruction. Barsewisch now came to Guderian as the emissary of the conspirators (in response to a request from Major Caesar von Hofacker) in a last effort to persuade Guderian to adopt outright resistance. News of the impending assassination, of which Barsewisch now told him without revealing its date (since the final decision had yet to be taken on the 19th), thoroughly shook Guderian. It was of no avail. Admitting the validity of Barsewisch’s reasoning, after a four-hour tramp and talk in the woods out of earshot, Guderian held firm to his original contention that he could not break his oath and must do his duty as an officer. All mention of assassination at this meeting is excluded from Panzer Leader. Only the subject of the armistice is ingenuously discussed on the lines that if he informed the Führer and the information proved false he would be ‘… doing Feldmarschall Kluge a grave injustice … Should I keep the information to myself I must share the guilt of the evil consequences that were bound to ensue.’ He adds that he did not believe the story and decided to stay silent.
This aspect of the Bomb Plot story, concealed up to now, throws a flickering light on Guderian’s part. In one respect – his omission of the whole truth from Panzer Leader (perhaps from a tortured conscience but as likely from true political reaction) – he emerges at less than his normal standards of behaviour. From another angle he becomes fully implicated in the plot. He knew Hitler was doing awful damage and he did nothing to stop the assassination either by arresting Barsewisch on the spot or reporting the whole matter. Instead he pursued a well-thought out policy adapted to the new circumstances.
At only a few hours notice, and clearly in a state of unusual tension, he set out next day, the 19th, on a hastily arranged tour of inspections to units which (by coincidence?) were within reach of either Berlin, his home at Deipenhof, Hitler’s headquarters with OKW at Rastenburg, or OKH at Lötzen. When visiting anti-tank troops at Allenstein, Thomale called him on the telephone to seek agreement to a request by Olbricht (now among the leading plotters) to delay the despatch of a panzer unit from Berlin to East Prussia in order that it might take part in an exercise of Operation Valkyrie – an operation Guderian thought covered action against enemy air landings or internal unrest. He gave his ‘reluctant approval,’ as indeed he might since this virtually told him that the attempt: upon Hitler’s life was fixed for the morrow. At any moment he would be faced with decisions of quite appalling consequence.
Next morning, the 20th, as he inspected more troops before going to Deipenhof, General Fellgiebel, the Head of OKW Signals and Intelligence arrived at Hitler’s Wolfschanze, near Rastenburg, earlier than usual. Shortly before 11.00pm Stauffenberg, carrying a briefcase containing the bomb intended to kill Hitler at the 1pm conference, arrived by air from Berlin. Immediately he was involved in talks with Keitel and General Walther Buhle (the new Army Chief of Staff designate) at which Keitel announced that the conference had been advanced to 12.30pm due to the arrival by train of Mussolini. In his office Fellgiebel waited in readiness to start the Battle of the Telephone and Telegraph Exchanges once he knew Hitler was dead. Already he had warned his closest collaborating Signals officers to be in pre-planned readiness to take control of (not, be it noted, wreck as usually assumed by many historians) the exchanges for the exclusive use by the conspirators under General Beck in Berlin.
Stauffenberg planted the primed bomb under the conference table close to Hitler. He then departed to take a telephone call from Fellgiebel as an excuse to have him leave the conference room, prior to making his way by car to the airfield to fly to Berlin. At 12.50pm, as Stauffenberg and Fellgiebel were walking to the car park, the bomb exploded with such devastating intensity that they assumed the Führer surely must be dead. Telephone bells began ringing. Fellgiebel called Oberst Hahn, his Chief of Staff, to pass on the ‘good’ news that would activate the telephone battle: only moments later to receive a message announcing: “Attempt on Führer’s life. Führer is alive and orders you to send for the Reichsmarschall [Göring] and Reichsführer [Himmler]. Not a word to leak out”.
For a moment only, Fellgiebel hesitated before obeying the Führer’s order to prevent a leakage which, as it happened, was exactly like the planned intention. All switchboard operators at the Wolfschanze were ordered to disconnect calls and stand away from their seats. Postal personnel stopped deliveries. A news blackout was imposed.
But already the telephone battle plan was in jeopardy because it was found impossible to block every line. For instance, Fellgiebel was able to get through to the War Ministry in Berlin and, only after some delay, tell the plotters that, although the Führer was still alive, the battle should continue just as if Hitler was dead. After that he spoke to Hahn and ordered him to, “Block everything”. Meanwhile, playing for time at the Wolfschanze, Fellgiebel attempted to convince an injured General Warlimont that partisans were responsible for the attack.
Long before 4pm Fellgiebel realised that the telephone battle was lost. The centre of decisive action had shifted to Berlin, where the conspirators dithered and dallied instead of energetically adopting Fellgiebel’s insistence to press on by behaving as if a rebellion by the SS was in progress. But already time was running out. Because the telephone line to Rastenburg from the War Ministry was kept open by Signals General Thiele, Keitel was able to get through and convince the conspirators and those who had been contacted elsewhere, that Hitler was not only alive but also kicking vigorously. Stauffenberg was delayed and arrived too late at the War Ministry to energise his wilting colleagues. By 6pm the initiative had passed to the forces of legal order.
Until 4pm* Guderian had deliberately placed himself out of touch from the outside world by enjoying a long walk far from his house at Deipenhof, hunting roebuck in the course of inspecting the estate. From this solitude he was summoned home by a despatch rider who told him to expect a telephone from Supreme Headquarters. A little later, over the radio, he heard of the attempt on Hitler’s life.
Too much weight should not be placed on surmise (of which there i
s plenty), though that is all there is concerning much that took place on the 20th. But it must have been well known to Guderian that, in moments of crisis when he did not wish to be contacted, a revered past commander of his used to take a walk for evasive action. That commander had been Rüdiger von der Goltz. On the assumption that Guderian was forewarned of an impending and dangerous event and with it the implication that he might soon be required to take a fatal decision, it was essential that he should preserve for himself the maximum time in which to allow the plot to resolve itself: thus the lonely walk was loaded with precedent and provided an excellent pretext for a useful safety measure. When at midnight Thomale came through on the telephone, the conspiracy had been crushed and a decision was unnecessary. Beck, Stauffenberg and some of the others were dead, with several more under arrest. From the Führer’s vengeful rantings it was obvious that anybody connected in the slightest way with the plot need expect no mercy; but then, there never had been much doubt that the price of failure would be a holocaust. Rommel had taken no direct part, but in due course his involvement would be revealed and he would pay with his life. Kluge, too, had stood back, filled with doubts, but he was fatally implicated and within a few weeks committed suicide. Possibly by luck, but much more likely as the result of exercising prudence and careful management over the past year or more, Guderian had isolated himself from contamination and yet, by keeping in touch and well informed, provided himself with an unshakeable alibi. If it had been his aim to preserve himself for a sacred task – the defence of Germany and of the old Army – he could not have gone about it more thoroughly and astutely. He saw no need for a martyr and positively declined to offer himself in that role.
Even so his fate, for one dramatic moment, hung accidentally by a string. When the news reached Speer at his Berlin office, his first assumption was that: ‘It did not occur to me that Stauffenberg, Olbricht, Stieff and their circle might be carrying out the revolt. I would rather have attributed such an act to a man of Guderian’s choleric temperament’. Speer recalls Goebbels and a Major Remer engaged upon crushing the revolt with whatever loyal troops could be found, and a melodramatic event at 7 pm when ‘… all was thrown into question again when he [Goebbels] learnt shortly afterwards that a tank brigade had arrived at Fehrbelliner Platz and was refusing to obey Remer’s orders. General Guderian alone was their commander, they had told Remer, and with military terseness had warned him: “Anyone who doesn’t obey will be shot”. Their fighting strength was so superior to Remer’s that the fate of a good deal more than the next hour or so seemed to hang on their attitude’.
Guderian: Panzer General Page 28
