Countdown to D-Day

by Peter Margaritis

  Inland and far away from the shelling, the three panzer divisions closest to the Normandy area have been on alert status for hours, biding their time, and still in or near the same areas they have occupied since midnight. They have performed a number of innocuous and relatively unimportant duties as they await orders from above to march, supposedly towards the Calvados coast.

  Fritz Witt’s 12th SS Panzer Division is scouting out the local areas. One regiment is reconnoitering up the road towards Caen. Another is moving into and around Lisieux to the southeast, looking for reported paratroopers near there.

  The massive Panzer Lehr is spread out all around near the town of Chartres, ready to move. Bayerlein and his men have been standing around for hours now, impatient.

  The story is not much different for the 21st Panzer, closest to the beaches. Many of its units had finally been given marching orders by their now-returned, frustrated commanding officer and are technically on the move, although slowly. Most of the division is experiencing traffic problems as it approaches the outskirts of Caen from the south. Those elements along the eastern bank of the Orne River have sent forward a few patrols and are poised to attack, expecting the go-ahead to start a major assault to recapture the two bridges over the river and the parallel canal. Couriers are sent to divisional headquarters with requests to advance. The answers are the same—get in position on the road, be ready to move out, and hold until further orders.

  ***

  Over the next five hours, Marcks’ headquarters in St. Lô receives many airborne landing reports. As a few groups of prisoners taken east of Caen identify the 3rd Parachute Brigade of the 6th British Airborne Division. Reports from the 709th Infantry sector in the Cotentin peninsula have identified prisoners taken from the 501st and 505th Parachute Regiments, part of the American 101st Airborne Division.

  The 84th Corps staff continues feverishly—Hayn later writes, “humming like a beehive”—to plot the report positions and issue orders. But in their minds, they have no doubts about what is happening, and that a landing is coming. The wait is finally over. The months of agonizing suspense, ended. The many false alerts, and the seemingly endless, mentally (and often physically) numbing hours of tensely manning their posts, the training, the many analytical hours of theorizing and discussions, the hours of preparing defenses, and the agonizing wait for an enemy who never showed up—over.

  One thing is sure. General Marcks’ men have no illusions at all about where the landing is going to be.

  By now the Allied fleet and air forces have pummeled the target beaches, and thousands of Allied troops are hitting the shores of Normandy.

  D-Day has come.

  1Cornelius Ryan wrote that the caller was the division commanding officer, General Richter. Paul Carell agreed with Jon Lewis’ account (Eyewitness D Day) that it was the operations officer on the line. Studying Ryan’s interview with Hayn, it seems Lewis was probably right. Ryan’s information was based upon a postwar interview with General Richter, who told him that he himself had made the call. Perhaps then, the chief of staff actually initiated the call and Richter had then come on the line. Jacobsen’s biography of Marcks does not specify.

  2The Bavent Forest is about 13km east-northeast of Caen, between Escoville and Troarn. Here elements of the British 3rd Brigade/6th Airborne Div. had landed. Their objective, among other things, was to destroy the five bridges across the Dives River to prevent any enemy counterattacks on their left flank from Fifteenth Army’s 711th Division.

  3“The red carrot has left.”

  4Forces Français de llntérieur—the main French Resistance group.

  5According to Paul Carrell, Hayn adds, “This is the invasion.” This claim though, is unsubstantiated in any other account.

  6A delightful Norman apple brandy, popular with the occupational troops in the area.

  7With the commanding officer (Generalleutnant Karl-Wilhelm von Schlieben) departed for the wargames in Rennes, Hamann was the acting commander of the 709th Division.

  8It should be noted here that although hundreds of aircraft ended up dropping their airborne troops in the wrong areas—sometimes way off course—this did have one significant good effect. Airborne troops being dropped all over bewildered the Germans even more than the paratroopers. Also, at least the paratroopers, as lost as they were, knew what was going on. The Germans though, with spotty reports, commanding officers departed for the wargames, and communication problems, could only guess what was going on.

  9Kapitän zur See Edward Wegener, Generalstabsoffizier la (Operations Chief), Marinegruppenkom- mandos West.

  10Vizeadmiral Friedrich Rieve took command April 22, 1943. Originally called, Marinebefehlshaber Kanalküste, it was renamed on February 1, 1943.

  11There are different versions of this incident. Brannen himself gave conflicting accounts after the war. In almost half the descriptions, it was Falley who was thrown from the vehicle and Major Bartuzat in front was killed immediately. Others state the opposite, and a couple accounts state that there were actually four in the car, not three. The driver, Corporal Baumann, survived the ambush and was taken prisoner. He attests that it was Falley who had been riding in the front seat and was killed immediately when the Americans opened fire.

  12About 4.5km west of Port-en-Bessin.

  13Pluskat’s 1st Battalion headquarters. The villa was devoid of any furniture, and Pluskat himself slept on a folding cot.

  14Oberst!leutnant Karl-Wilhelm Ocker, commanding the 352nd Division’s artillery regiment.

  15Pluskat’s command bunker was located in WN-59 (see footnote for May 10), just to the east of Omaha beach.

  16In the movie version of The Longest Day, the figure used was 5,000.

  17In the movie (for which Ryan co-wrote the screenplay), the discussion is with Ocker, not Block. Ocker asks him “Mein lieber Pluskat, welchen Kurs haben diese Schiffe?”(“My dear Pluskat, on what course are these ships heading?”), and Pluskat yells back excitedly “Auf mich zu direkt! (“Right for me!”)

  Tuesday, June 6—Part Two

  It is quiet at the Rommel home in Herrlingen. Dawn has broken. A few birds chirp in the distance. Otherwise, it is the peaceful silence of another day.

  There are a number of people staying in or near the villa, besides Rommel and his wife Lucie. There are the servants, Karolina and Private Loitsl. There is also Mrs. Hildegarde Kircheim, and Daniel, his driver. And Manfred is home, on leave from his Luftwaffe anti-aircraft defense unit in nearby Ulm.

  Lucie is still asleep, as is Manfred, in his room. But the field marshal is up early, still in his dressing gown. This is a special day: Lucie’s 50th birthday. Rommel has made arrangements with the servants to have bouquets of sweet-smelling flowers from the fields in each of the rooms. The field marshal is in the drawing room, enjoying a small breakfast. His wife’s presents are gathered on the table. Later that morning, he will carefully lay them out, putting last-minute touches here and there. Naturally, the handmade Parisian shoes that he had bought her will be the centerpiece of the gift array. They are a special edition of platform-style, gray suede pumps with black heels, and as a layer in the sole, there is a suede strip that runs around the shoe. And of course, they are her size: 5½

  He smiles in anticipation of how she will react when she sees them. This should be a good day.

  Sometime around 6 a.m., the phone rings. Surprised, Rommel walks over to answer it. Maybe it is General Schmundt calling about his appointment with the Führer.1

  “Yes,” he says, “Rommel here.” Instead of Schmundt though, he is mildly surprised to find his chief of staff on the line. Rommel greets Speidel amiably, “Well, Speidel. What’s up?”

  He feels himself go numb as Speidel reports that “some sort of an attack” has been made. There have been a number of airborne drops in the Normandy area., and some as far northeast as across the Somme River. The reports are confusing. Rommel listens in stunned silence. An invasion? In lousy weather? Did the enemy know he was hom
e?

  Rommel replies tersely, “Well, find out—and fast”

  Speidel tells him that there is as yet no sense of scale about the airborne assaults, and concludes that he is not sure whether or not this is just a “Dieppe-type” of attack—possibly to divert their attention—or the prelude to the actual invasion.

  Speidel acknowledges the order and reports to him what steps he has taken so far. Rommel indicates his approval, and adds, “I’m returning as fast as I can make it.”

  Speidel has thought about this. He believes that Rommel should hold off leaving, in light of the importance of his trip home, both personally and officially (the upcoming meeting with Hitler). Speidel decides that Rommel should wait a bit until they better assess the situation.

  He conveys this to Rommel. “I do not think you should leave right away, Herr Feldmarschall,” he suggests, “but I think that you should wait before making any decision until I ring you back.” Speidel could get some more information and better determine what was going on, and if this was an actual invasion or just a diversion. After all, there had been no reports as yet of naval task forces.

  Rommel is persuaded by Speidel’s logic, and grudgingly agrees to consider it. His mind racing, he slowly climbs the stairs to his bedroom. Just in case, he is going to pack. Lucie, now awake, can tell that he is quite upset about the phone call, but she wisely decides not to ask him about it. He does not tell her what has happened, but merely starts packing.

  ***

  Staff members at Rommel’s headquarters are at this time optimistic about this whole landing thing. Many of the staff, up most of the night, have gone to bed. After all, things seem to be going well. OB West has ordered the reserve panzer divisions towards the coast. No one at La Roche-Guyon knows that OKW has countermanded the order.

  The 21st Panzer Division, alerted since midnight, is now moving towards their jump-off points against the enemy. One target: the British paratroopers on the east bank of the Orne, holding the two bridges near Bernville. Von Oppeln’s panzers are awaiting Feuchtinger’s word to advance north. And in addition to the infantry units mobilized and ready on the coast, three full panzer divisions are thought to be on their way into the troubled area.

  Unfortunately, no one remembers General Pickert and his III Flak Corps, located on the other side of the Seine. He is not informed about the invasion that morning, so he goes on an inspection tour. He gets the news when he returns. He immediately drives to Paris. The flak units will not get the word until mid-afternoon.2

  Speidel’s own complacency is shaken a short time later, when at 6:15 a.m., almost an hour after daybreak and a quarter of an hour past sunrise, he gets a call from Max Pemsel. Pemsel tersely lets him have it. Word has come from the 21st Panzer headquarters. An Allied naval bombardment off Normandy started at about 05:30. There. That ought to jolt him.

  Speidel is indeed surprised by the information; but he still stubbornly persists that this is a ruse, and that the main effort will be somewhere else.

  Pemsel tells him he has received sporadic reports from units telling him that they have heard sounds of combat, and can see ships out on the bay. But they have no clear description of what is going on. Pemsel comments, “I’m fighting the sort of battle that William the Conqueror must have fought—by ear and sight only.”

  Speidel argues his case to Pemsel. He is nothing if not intelligent, and his points this morning, despite his fatigue, are no doubt effective to Pemsel, who is surprised that Speidel still refuses to believe that the invasion has come. By the time Speidel finishes though, he has Pemsel again convinced that he is probably right—so much so in fact, that Pemsel later writes in his own war diary, against his better instincts, that the purpose of the bombardment is as yet unknown at this time, and quite possibly a diversionary tactic.

  It is 6:28 a.m., about an hour and a quarter after low tide.3 A light mist, combined with dust and the acrid smells of cordite smoke created by the naval bombardment, fills the air. American troops begin to land among the obstacles at the water’s edge and assault two stretches of shore that they have designated Utah and Omaha beaches. The landing craft at Utah carry the advance elements of the US 4th Infantry Division, while to Omaha go the US 1st and the 29th Infantry. It is H-Hour for the Americans.

  Tensely awaiting the 4th Infantry along Utah’s nine-mile beach are several scattered strongpoints, covered by several machine-gun positions along the shore. In addition, there are a dozen batteries in the area in various conditions capable of ranging in on tbe beach.

  One of the strongest positions remains the St. Marcouf battery, manned by 300 men. Three of the 210mm guns have been installed, although only two are casemated. Allied air raids had slowed down the process considerably since April, and the bombings of the night before took a heavy toll on the battery. Some 600 tons of bombs knocked out all of the anti-aircraft guns, including the six 75mm guns. And a couple of uncoordinated ground attacks in the early morning by scattered elements of the 101st Airborne have kept the battery crews off-balance as they try to repair the guns.

  Some two kilometers southwest of the Marcouf Battery is the Azeville Battery. Its field of fire is not as good as the one at Marcouf.

  The Americans are not opposed as they near the shore. Fortunately for them, there are few enemy batteries still operational, and any firing quickly becomes the target of Allied counterbattery fire, plentiful and accurate. Also, many bombs and shells miss the coast and explode in the sand, at the water’s edge and out to the incoming breakers. These misses have detonated many planted German mines—obstacles that the Germans had counted on to take out a number of the landing craft.

  The American landing craft hit the beach, and the troops of the 8th Infantry Regiment scramble ashore with little opposition. They discover that they have landed over a mile south of their intended spot, a navigational error caused partly by the hazy air, and partly by the lateral cross-current moving southeast. Unknown to them, it is a lucky error, since the area that they drift into is considerably less fortified than the beaches a mile up the coast; and they are that much further from the Marcouf Battery. They decide to let the error go and bring in the successive waves to the same area.

  At Omaha beach to the east, it is quite a different story. The worst fears of the assaulting troops are about to be realized. The battle-hardened 916th and 726th Grenadier Regiments are waiting for the enemy landing craft to come into range. Their main batteries are better concealed and mostly still intact, because the 1,285 tons of bombs that were supposed to hit them have fallen mostly inland. This is due to the heavy clouds and the inaccuracy of the over-compensating Allied bombers.

  The beach defenders hold their fire until the assault craft are close. They then open up with a terrific tumult, pouring a devastating fusillade into the boats struggling to make it to the beach. The surviving craft, sometimes coming in abreast with only a foot between them, finally reach the water’s edge, and their bow ramps flop down into the surf. The men inside, poised to jump out, are now exposed to murderous machine-gun fire. As they surge forward into the chest-high swirling waters, many are mowed down like wheat. The bullets cut into their numbers as they desperately try to make it out of the water and onto the sand. They have to get out of the open immediately, mostly because it is lethal out there, but also to make room, because the next wave will be landing in twenty minutes. But soldiers are falling everywhere, hit by incoming fire. Death awaits the Americans.

  One primary target is a German heavy-caliber battery atop Pointe du Hoc, a spit of cliff jutting out into the bay a couple miles from the western end of Omaha beach. Some 225 men of the American 2nd Ranger Battalion approach the point in ten British landing craft, plowing through the rough waves and strong crosswind. They will have a good deal of trouble taking the position, only to realize that the guns are not in the bunkers and have somehow been moved to another location.

  Although the British and Canadians are scheduled to hit Gold, Juno, and Sword beaches betwe
en 6 a.m. and 6:30, they have decided to go in later than the Americans, and thereby catch the tide going back in. This will help them avoid many of the relatively few low-tide obstacles, while giving the ships more time to bombard the shore. Unfortunately, the seas are too rough for any more delays, so they begin heading towards the beaches. They immediately run into problems making headway in the choppy waters. The British finally hit Gold beach at 6:25 a.m., and Sword beach five minutes later. The first wave of Canadians land at Juno beach from 6:45 to 6:55 a.m.

  One of the greatest threats to the Germans is on Gold beach, where elements of the 50th (Northumbrian) Infantry Division are splashing ashore. Among them are a significant number of tanks and motorized vehicles, elements of the British 8th Armored Brigade. General Montgomery wants to be sure that he weights the punch of his first waves with armor. He wants them to be ready for the panzers that he fears will soon come tearing over the bluffs and crashing down upon his men.

  At 6:45 a.m., Fifteenth Army Headquarters receives a call from Max Pemsel, updating them on the situation. He acknowledges that there has been a naval bombardment, but no actual invasion has yet been reported. He also states that Seventh Army will be able to cope with the situation themselves. General von Salmuth, hearing the news, comments with glee that the invasion must have already failed. He then promptly goes back to bed.4

  Around 7 a.m., Obergruppenführer Sepp Dietrich at his I SS Panzer Corps headquarters calls the command center of the 12th SS Panzer Division. Based on the reports he has been given, he places them under the command of General Kuntzen’s 81st Corps. They are to contact corps headquarters in Rouen. In the meantime, the entire division will soon be ordered to move up, assemble around Lisieux, and stay there to await further orders. The puzzled regimental commanders just shake their heads.