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Liberation of Paris : How Eisenhower, De Gaulle, and Von Choltitz Saved the City of Light (9781501164941)

Page 12

by Smith, Jean Edward


  Figure 3: LeClerc’s route to Paris

  August 23, 1944, was also a day when the news of the Allied advance spread quickly. The BBC announced “Paris is free!” and the British War Cabinet ordered a thanksgiving service in St. Paul’s Cathedral.11 King George VI sent a telegram of congratulations to de Gaulle. Although the telegram was premature, de Gaulle was delighted since he believed it was “intended to force the Americans to renounce their ulterior motives which the English did not approve.”12 Foreign Secretary Anthony Eden said, “Every citizen of every free country has no doubt been moved by the news about Paris.” And the lord mayor of London sent a telegram to General Koenig congratulating him on this “supreme moment of victory. A world without Paris is inconceivable.”13

  As Colonel Bruce reported, “A gush of Allied war correspondents poured into Rambouillet this morning,” having been informed that Leclerc had been given the go-ahead. “The correspondents are furious with Leclerc,” said Bruce, “because he will not tell them his plans. He, in turn, is angry with them and with reason, for they are looking for a story and he is trying to make plans to capture Paris.”14

  Leclerc moved out early on Thursday, August 24. At 6:30 a.m. the Second Armored left Rambouillet in two tactical groups heading for Paris, with a third, as a decoy to distract the Germans, going through Versailles as Gerow had instructed. Leclerc was then supposed to head for the Eiffel Tower. As one historian has suggested, “This plan possibly reflected the very American idea that the Eiffel Tower is the center of Paris.”15 Leclerc, who had cleared his plan with de Gaulle, planned to enter Paris from the south. His first column, Tactical Group V under Colonel Pierre Billotte, would enter the city through the Porte d’Orléans; the second, Tactical Group T under Colonel Paul de Langlade, would enter through the Porte de Saint-Cloud. Once in Paris, the two would head for the Place de la Concorde, which was very close to von Choltitz’s headquarters at the Hotel Meurice. The U.S. Fourth Infantry Division would continue to follow the French forces.

  But the movement on August 24 quickly ran into trouble. Unlike on the 23rd, the French troops encountered heavy German resistance. This was attributable to the strategy Generals von Boineburg-Lengsfeld and von Choltitz had adopted of deploying most of the Paris garrison outside the city to cover the approaches. And to compound matters, where there was no German resistance the French population turned out in massive numbers to greet Leclerc’s men, further delaying the advance. By late afternoon it was clear that the Second Armored was not going to get to Paris that day. Tactical Group V under Billotte had advanced thirteen miles, and by nightfall was still about five miles away from the Porte d’Orléans. Tactical Group T under de Langlade had crossed the Port de Sèvres, a wide highway bridge across the Seine, and by evening was two miles from the Porte de Saint-Cloud. But neither was going to push into Paris in the dark. And the battles that day had taken a toll. Seventy-one French soldiers had been killed, 225 wounded, and 21 were missing. Thirty-five tanks had been destroyed and more than 111 other vehicles had been lost.16

  The Americans were perplexed at Leclerc’s slow progress. Gerow complained to Bradley that Leclerc was “dancing to Paris” and “advancing on a one-tank front.”17 Bradley responded by ordering the U.S. Fourth Infantry Division to outflank the French and “slam it on to Paris” from the southeast. “To hell with prestige,” he told his chief of staff, Colonel Lev Allen.18

  Leclerc was equally upset. In the late afternoon he sent a Piper Cub to fly over the city and drop a note in the courtyard of the préfecture de police. “Tenez bon. Nous arrivons.” Hang on. We’re coming.19

  All was not lost. Standing at a roadside junction not far from Trappes at about six-thirty, Leclerc saw a familiar face from North Africa leading his company of armored cars to a reserve position for the evening. “Dronne, what are you doing here?” he asked. Leclerc was addressing Captain Raymond Dronne, who had joined his forces in the Cameroons, fought across North Africa, and been wounded in Tunisia. Dronne was a combat commander Leclerc respected, and he wondered why he was heading away from the front lines. Dronne’s troops had just successfully enveloped Fresnes.

  “Mon general, I am returning to the axis of advance,” Dronne replied, meaning he was returning to the main force of Colonel Billotte.20

  Leclerc was surprised and decided to exercise his command authority. “Never carry out an idiotic order,” he told Dronne. Leclerc believed there was no serious resistance east of Fresnes and that the roads to Paris were open. Gesticulating with his cane toward the capital, he told Dronne to move on to Paris immediately.

  “At once, mon general,” Dronne replied. “But I have only two platoons and I am going to need more than that.”

  “Take what you can find and quickly,” Leclerc replied. Dronne asked for further instructions. Was he to avoid German fortifications and head straight for the center of Paris?

  “Correct,” Leclerc replied. “Right into Paris, any way you like. Tell the Parisians and the Resistance not to lose courage and that tomorrow the whole division will be in Paris.” In Dronne’s retelling, Leclerc looked less tense and was now smiling. Paris would be entered today.21

  Ironically, Dronne’s company was made up primarily of Spanish Civil War veterans whose half-tracks were named for Spanish cities: Madrid, Guadalajara, Brunete, and Guernica. The men were Spaniards who had fought for the republic in Spain and were now engaged in another war against fascism. Before moving on Paris, Dronne felt he needed some armored support and asked a Lieutenant Michard, who commanded three tanks, to join him. He also picked up a platoon of engineers commanded by a Lieutenant Cancel, which brought his total force to 150 men, 3 Sherman tanks, 15 half-tracks, and a number of jeeps.

  Dronne and his men moved out at 8 p.m. As they departed, a young man named Georges Chevallier stepped forward and offered to guide them through the tangled network of roads and streets leading to Paris. He understood how to go, and helped Dronne’s force through the suburbs of L’Haÿ-les-Roses, Cachan, Arcueil, and Bicêtre. After forty-five minutes—and with no German contact—they were at the Porte d’Italie, an ancient gateway to Paris. Traveling along the same road that Napoléon had used when he returned from Elba, Dronne’s troops were now in Paris. Parisians at first thought the incoming troops were Germans, but when they saw the American markings on the tanks and half-tracks they erupted in celebration. Dronne recognized that he had to push on, and miraculously found a young man on a moped who volunteered to lead the column to the center of Paris. A member of the Resistance, Lorenian Dikran, like Georges Chevallier, was calm and collected, and led Dronne to his objective, the Hôtel de Ville, or City Hall. Dronne chose the Hôtel de Ville because it symbolized the history of France and the rights and liberties of Frenchmen.

  Led by Dikran, Dronne’s force drove along the Avenue d’Italie, the Rue Baudricourt, the Rue Nationale, and the Rue Esquirol. They turned onto the Boulevard de l’Hôpital, crossed the Seine on the Pont d’Austerlitz, and then moved along the Seine on the Quai Henry IV and the Quai des Célestins to the center of the city and the Place d’Hôtel de Ville. The streets had been empty and no German troops interfered, although there was considerable gunfire from other parts of the city.

  Figure 4: Captain Dronne’s route into Paris

  Captain Raymond Dronne, August 24, 1944

  It was 9:22 p.m. and Dronne entered the Hôtel de Ville. That was exactly 1,532 days, 3 hours, and 52 minutes since the first German troops had entered Paris in 1940.22 Dronne was greeted at the door by men of the FFI, and cheered as he made his way up the main staircase to the grand salon. Just before Dronne arrived, Georges Bidault, the president of the National Resistance, had stood on a mess table in the refectory and announced that “the first tanks of the French Army have crossed the Seine and are in the heart of Paris.”23 As Bidault finished, the sound of tank treads moving toward the building could be heard. The men in the room sprang to their feet to sing the Marseillaise, and just as they finished, Dronne entered th
e building. They greeted him with an outpouring of affection. Standing before the crowd unshaven in his sweat-soaked uniform, Dronne also felt deeply moved.

  Outside, on the Place d’Hôtel de Ville, crowds began to gather. As the men dismounted from their vehicles, they were warmly applauded by the Parisians. Pierre Crénesse, a reporter for French radio, saw the first soldier coming out of the lead tank and with his microphone open asked him where he was from. “Constantinople,” replied Prilian Krikor. At the same time, the radioman in Dronne’s company called back to Leclerc’s headquarters, “We are at the Hôtel de Ville.”24

  Inside the Hôtel de Ville, Dronne was swept upstairs to the prefect’s office, where he was officially welcomed by Bidault in the name of “soldiers without uniform” who had been fighting for France.25 Crénesse was now in the building and spoke directly to the people of Paris by a telephone link to his studio:

  Tomorrow morning will be the dawn of a new day for the capital. Tomorrow morning Paris will be liberated, Paris will finally discover its true face. Four years of struggle, four years that have been, for many people, years of prison, years of pain, of torture and, for many more, a slow death in the Nazi concentration camps, but that’s all over…. These soldiers of the Leclerc Division and their comrades in the FFI on the Place d’Hôtel de Ville, machine guns over their shoulders, automatic weapons in their arms, revolvers in their hands, renewing old acquaintances, seem to me to symbolize the resurrection of France, the union of fighting external armies and those of the Interior who have been hunting the Hun for the last five days and who have already liberated the main public buildings of the city.26

  He then handed the phone to Bidault, who spoke briefly, emphasizing that Germany was not beaten and urging all Frenchmen to support the Allies. Colonel Rol, who had just arrived at the Hôtel de Ville, then spoke, noting that Paris had been largely liberated thanks to the guerrilla tactics carried out by the FFI.

  Open the radio to Paris for the Allied armies, hunt down and destroy the remnants of German divisions, link up with the Leclerc Division in a common victory—that is the mission that is being accomplished by the FFI of the Ile-de-France and of Paris, simmering with a sacred hatred and patriotism.27

  As they were speaking, the great fourteen-ton bell in the south tower of Notre-Dame began to ring. It had not been rung since June 1940, when the occupation began. Charles Luizet, the prefect of police, had sent a dozen policemen to the cathedral to ring the bell. It was quickly answered by the even greater nineteen-ton bell in the Church of the Sacré-Cœur, dominating the city’s skyline in Montmartre. Over the radio, all the churches were urged to begin ringing their bells—which they did. All over Paris, the ringing of the church bells—which had not occurred in four years—signaled that the occupation was over.

  Throughout Paris the celebration began. All over the city people threw open their windows to listen to the bells and rejoice at the victory. Others rushed into the streets singing the Marseillaise, banging pots and waving French flags. It was a celebration long in the making and deeply appreciated.

  As the celebration began, two policemen arrived at the Hôtel de Ville to escort Captain Dronne to see Luizet, Chaban-Delmas, and Parodi at the préfecture. These were the Gaullist leaders in Paris, and they wanted to emphasize their presence and underline the government they represented. When Dronne arrived, Parodi spoke to the radio audience: “I have in front of me a French captain who is the first to arrive in Paris. His face is red, he is grubby, and he needs a shave, and yet I want to embrace him.” After another public reception Luizet asked Dronne if there was anything he needed. “A bath,” said Dronne.28 He was taken to the rather luxurious bathroom in Luizet’s private quarters, where he bathed and freshened up. But there was no time to waste at the préfecture. He took his leave and returned to his men at the Hôtel de Ville. With the celebrations going on at full intensity, Dronne spread his sleeping bag in the street and went to sleep. Leclerc’s men had made it to Paris. It was a remarkable accomplishment.

  Dronne’s company was not the only French unit to arrive in Paris that evening. Colonel Paul de Langlade’s force, led by Lieutenant Colonel Jacques Massu, had crossed the Pont de Sèvres into the city.II But de Langlade had ordered Massu to hold up. “That is not your mission,” he said, speaking of the liberation of Paris.29 For de Langlade the liberation had personal aspects. He picked up a telephone and called his mother, who lived in the city. It was the first time in almost five years they had spoken. He told her he would be with her the next afternoon and that she should stay inside until then.

  Lieutenant Colonel Jacques Massu

  The arrival of French forces in Paris did not mean that Paris was liberated. But it was a major achievement, and perhaps no one was more pleased by it than General von Choltitz.

  I. Gerow’s position is best understood by noting that he and Eisenhower were old friends, going back to 1915, when they both served as lieutenants in the Nineteenth Infantry, the famous “Rock of Chickamauga” regiment, stationed at Fort Sam Houston, Texas. In the mid-1920s they were classmates and study partners at the Command and General Staff School at Fort Leavenworth. Eisenhower graduated first in the class of 224, and Gerow finished second. In the early thirties both were in Washington at the War Department and both lived in the Wyoming apartment building until Ike went to Manila with MacArthur. In November of 1940 Gerow, who had become head of War Plans in the War Department, sought to have Eisenhower appointed his deputy but withdrew the request when Ike expressed his desire to remain with troops. Finally, in December 1941, after Pearl Harbor, Marshall brought Eisenhower to the War Department and on February 14, 1942, eased Gerow out as head of War Plans and installed Ike. Gerow was promoted to Major General and given command of the Twenty-Ninth Infantry Division. In July 1943 he was named commander of V Corps, and played a major role in planning for the D-Day invasion. But his long-standing friendship with Eisenhower was most important. Gerow did not see the war in political terms, and that partially explains his dislike of Lerclerc.

  II. Jacques Massu became a very successful and sometimes controversial military commander after World War II. In 1957 he became military governor of Algiers and suppressed the FLN, sometimes with tactics that exceeded the permissible. Massu became a hero to the Europeans in Algeria but a villain to the left in France and the Algerian nationalists. In 1958, when anti-government riots broke out in France, he led the movement to recall de Gaulle to power and became a strong supporter of the Fifth Republic. When four generals in Algeria launched a coup in 1961, he stood by de Gaulle and helped quash the coup. De Gaulle made him military governor of Metz, and in 1966 promoted Massu to the five-star rank of general of the army and made him commander of the French army in Germany. In 1968, when students and workers were demonstrating against the government, Massu convinced de Gaulle to remain in office, and de Gaulle did so. Massu retired the following year, and died in 2002 at the age of 94. In later life he expressed regrets at his methods in Algeria and said, “We could have done things differently.” Times of London, October 29, 2002.

   VIII

  A Field of Ruins

  “Paris must not fall into enemy hands except as a field of ruins.”

  —ADOLF HITLER, AUGUST 23, 1944

  On August 23, the day after von Choltitz dispatched Rolf Nordling to contact the Allies, Hitler sent a message to Field Marshal Walther Model and von Choltitz demanding that Paris be held at all costs, and that if it could not be held it should be turned into a field of ruins. Said Hitler:

  The defense of Paris is of decisive military and political significance. Its loss would tear open the whole coastal front north of the Seine and deprive Germany of bases for very long-range warfare against England.

  Historically, the loss of Paris always meant the loss of France. The Führer repeats his order that Paris has to be defended…. The strongest measures to quell insurrection inside the city must be taken…. The bridges across the Seine are to be prepared for demolit
ion. Paris must not fall into enemy hands except as a field of ruins.1

  Von Choltitz was stunned by the message. And he was also ashamed. “Four days ago the factual order might have been considered. But the situation had changed. The enemy was moving rapidly toward Paris. He had captured the bridge at Melun. We had no troops available. The First [German] Army consisted of a few remaining troops and was no fighting force worth mentioning. I had no troops to confront tank divisions.”2 Von Choltitz believed the order had no military validity and despaired at the outright hatred it contained. After reading it, he showed it to his second in command, Colonel Hans Jay, an old friend. They were standing on the balcony outside von Choltitz’s office in the Hotel Meurice on the Rue de Rivoli. As Jay recalled, “In front of us the Tuileries lay in sunshine. To our right was the Place de la Concorde and to our left the Louvre. The scene merely underlined the madness of the medieval command.”3 Von Choltitz put the order in his pocket and showed it to no one else.

  Later that day he called another old friend, Lieutenant General Hans Speidel, the chief of staff at Field Marshal Model’s headquarters in Cambrai. Von Choltitz and Speidel were friends from the prewar army and the Russian front, and von Choltitz considered Speidel very efficient and humane.I “Thank you for the beautiful order,” said von Choltitz.

  “What order, General?”

 

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