***
7:30 a.m., Jodl telephones OB West to get a situation update for the Führer when he wakes up. This time von Rundstedt himself picks up the receiver. Taking up the cause his staff members have fruitlessly pursued for the last few hours, the old man bluntly gets to the point. The panzers must be released immediately to deal with the landing. As von Rundstedt strains with his bad hearing to catch every word coming from the receiver, and with Blumentritt listening in on an extension, Jodl again turns him down. He insists again that, even if there is a landing (and that has not been confirmed), the panzers must not be released without orders from the Führer. The 12th SS, already in the process of moving some elements northwest of its bivouac, must be halted at Lisieux. Panzer Lehr, still on standby and ready to move out, is to remain where it is.
***
Von Rundstedt slams the phone down and clenches his teeth in rage. Stupid, self-righteous clerk! Jodl can be such an ass. Von Rundstedt stares at his two senior officers. Like him, they realize the consequences of this delay.
The old man sighs, shrugs his shoulders, and grumbles that he is going to get some breakfast. He stops at his office door and adds bitterly without turning around, “If anybody needs me, I’ll be out pruning my roses.” He leaves to walk back up the hill to his villa.
***
8 a.m. General Feuchtinger is getting upset. He is again on the phone with General Marcks, who has just told him that he has spoken to Berlin, and that the 21st Panzer is now a part of Marcks’ Corps, and his to command. That being the case, Feuchtinger is now to turn his entire division around and to go back south to Caen which is probably a traffic madhouse by now, because the city is being threatened by the British landing at the beaches. From there he is to cross the Orne, advance north towards the British landing area and crush them. The beachhead, Marcks tells him, is the highest priority. Engaging the paratroopers will just have to wait.
When Feuchtinger, trying to hold his temper, snidely points out that somebody has to keep the airborne troops at bay, Marcks agrees. Reconsidering, he allows him to leave behind one panzer recon company from the 22nd Panzer Regiment.
Feuchtinger hangs up the phone, mad as hell. After hours of maneuvering into position, he and his men have just begun to engage the British paratroopers on the east bank of the Orne. Now it is all for nothing!
Feuchtinger orders the panzer recon company to stay behind to deal with the British paratroopers, but he also decides to leave von Luck’s 125th Panzergrenadier Regiment behind as well. No matter what, a lot of time will be wasted as the rest of the division moves back southwest to Caen, where it will cross the river and the canal and then move up along the west bank towards the beachhead.
***
8:30 a.m. General Marcks is talking to General Kraiss, commanding the beleaguered 352nd Division. Kraiss is nearly frantic. His units are taking heavy casualties and are starting to run low on ammunition. Yes, the enemy is still well pinned down on the beaches, but he does not think that he can keep them there for long. The Americans have taken severe casualties, but they just keep landing, jamming themselves at the base of the cliffs. Sooner or later, they will wear Kraiss’ troops down and break out.
He tells Marcks with disgust that Meyer’s reserve task force is lost, and Meyer’s radio must not be working. Kraiss has scouts out looking for them. Marcks shakes his head, and orders Kraiss to keep him posted.
The enemy has apparently landed in five main areas. The two beachheads on the left are American. Two on the right are British, and the third between them is probably Canadian. The assault troops are supported by an enormous fleet, whose size has dumfounded his observers. The hundreds of aircraft flying overhead gave testimony to the air support that the enemy has committed. And there are the enemy Fallschirmjägern. On the left, the American 82nd and 101st Airborne have been identified. On the right flank is the British 6th Airborne, stubbornly holding onto the Orne River crossings.
At 9 a.m., Baron von der Heydte, commanding the 6th Parachute Regiment, calls Marcks. His men are moving towards Ste.-Mère-Église. He has seen the invasion fleet, and he too is stunned by its panorama.
“This is the invasion,” he tells Marcks.
Activity on the Obersalzberg is increasing. Goebbels at 4 a.m. had brought reports of parachute and glider landings in Northern France, and one report of ship engines heard offshore. Reports from OB West, and another from II. Fliegerkorps coming in at 8 a.m., state strong enemy landings between Dieppe and Cherbourg.
Konteradmiral von Puttkamer is definitely worried. His staff have picked up on the radio Allied broadcasts of an invasion in northern France. Something is definitely afoot. What to do? Should he wake the Führer? Reports are sketchy. After some deliberation, he goes to the phone and calls General Jodl at the Little Chancellery. The admiral tells him that there are “definite indications” that an invasion is underway, and he tells Jodl about the Allied broadcast.
It looks like it is time to wake up the Führer. Jodl agrees, and tells him that he will be in his office if needed.
Puttkamer hangs up and take a deep breath. Nervous, he finds Schmundt, Hitler’s army adjutant. The news will be better coming from him. The adjutant agrees, and a few minutes later, walks into the Führer’s bedroom and wakes him up.
They walk out, the Führer having donned a robe. Armed only with a marked-up map of the area, Schmundt gives him a short synopsis of what has been reported. Hitler calmly listens, and then serenely sends for Keitel and Jodl.
By the time they arrive an hour later he is dressed, but not so pleasant. They talk about the little information that has come in. Between Le Havre and Cherbourg, some large enemy landings have occurred in the early morning. Jodl adds that more are expected, but OB West does not know where.
Jodl also tells him of von Rundstedt’s order to move the reserve panzers forward, and that he personally has countermanded the order until they have a better overall picture of what is happening, and the Führer can decide himself where to move them.
Hitler approves of that, and Jodl is relieved to hear it.
The Führer at this point is not sure if this is the primary landing. Twice he has said, “This is not the main invasion,” Now though, he starts to wonder. “This might indeed be the beginning of the invasion,” he says, “but the enemy’s intentions in Normandy are only diversionary. I’m sure that the main landing will come somewhere else.” He repeats that point again.
The briefing quickly over, he suddenly looks up at them. “Well?” he barks, “Is it or isn’t it the invasion?” Before they reply, he turns and walks out.
***
At 9:10, Pemsel at Seventh Army calls Speidel. He has been calling all night with reports, trying to get Speidel to understand what is happening. Finally, he stirs the man out of his complacency by tensely reporting that a massive landing had taken place on the Normandy beaches, and that the beach defense zone has been breached in several areas. They discuss what to do for a good half-hour.
A few minutes later, Blumentritt calls to tell them that Jodl has again forbidden movement of the reserve panzers until Hitler releases them. Still, Rommel’s headquarters stays optimistic.
About 10:12 a.m., Speidel decides that it is time to call Rommel back and tell him the news.
***
At Herrlingen, the hours go by slowly. Rommel is packed now and ready to leave if need be. Trying to kill some time between pacing, Rommel fusses with the gift arrangements on the table. The more he tries to act normally though, the more concerned he gets. He talks a bit with Manfred, trying to explain to the boy what might be going on.
A knock on the door of the drawing room startles him out of his reverie. It is the housemaid, Karolina. Coming into the room, she exclaims, “Herr Feldmarschall Rommel is wanted on the telephone!” It is 10:15 a.m.5
Rommel walks out to the phone. It is Speidel. He confirms Rommel’s worst fears as the blood drains from his face. The invasion has begun. It is in Normandy. As the chi
ef of staff adds some early details, Rommel listens in silence. He must return at once and tells Speidel that he will do so. Tersely, he gives orders to hold the beaches.
Lucie, having come into the room while he was on the phone, can tell immediately that the call has changed him. Her husband is now once again terribly upset, and there seems to be a thick layer of tension in the room.
He stands there for a moment after having talked to Speidel, staring at the wall in front of him, lost in a jumble of thoughts. He tells Lucie the shocking news. “The invasion has begun. I must return immediately.” Standing there, still stunned, he finally adds softly, “Wie dumm von mir… Wie dumm von mir…”How stupid of me…
Quickly regaining his composure, he yanks the receiver up again. When an operator comes on the line, he thunders, “A führungsblitz6 call to the Führer’s headquarters, at once!”
The operator hesitates. Such an order has tremendous ramifications for her. It carries absolute top priority in the telephone system. Not just anybody could order such a thing, and its misuse would carry the harshest of reprisals. The poor girl hesitates, not knowing whether to really clear the line for him or not.
“Dammit, girl,” he snaps impatiently, “this is Rommel speaking! Give me a line at once!”
That does it. His call finally goes through, and he reports to OKW what he knows of the situation, and that he is returning to his headquarters immediately.
When the call is finished, he stomps upstairs to change into his uniform. Confronting his male servant, Private Rudolf Loistl, he orders, “Get my Daniel up here with the car at once… And get Lang to meet me at Freudenstadt.”
As Rommel hurriedly packs to leave, Loistl gets on the phone and calls Lang’s home. Fortunately, Lang answers the phone. Loistl fills him in and tells him that the field marshal wants to meet up with him in Freudenstadt. Loistl then informs the field marshal that he has Lang on the phone. Rommel comes downstairs and gets on. He speaks briefly to Lang, telling him of his intentions to return, and the need for haste. He tells Lang to meet him in Freudenstadt at noon.
After he has hung up, Rommel realizes that Lang cannot possibly get there by noon. Grumbling irritably, he calls Lang back and changes the rendezvous time to 1 p.m. Von Tempelhoff will just have to manage to somehow return on his own.
Rommel is ready to leave in fifteen minutes. With the others outside, he and Lucie as usual say their goodbyes privately behind the closed front door.7 Daniel drives his car around front. Manfred comes in and tells them. Hearing this, Rommel kisses Lucie and puts his hand on his son’s head. “Well Manfred,” he says, “you and I will try to win the war.”
Manfred replies, “Auf Wiedersehen, Papa.” They all walk out to the Horch, Rommel gets in the front, and the car takes off down the driveway.
Obviously, Lucie’s birthday party is ruined. Lucie walks back into the living room. Seeing Frau Kircheim, she tells her in an excited voice that Rommel has already left for France. Mrs. Kircheim can see that Lucie is worried, both for her husband, and for Germany itself. The two ladies talk for a while about the phone call.
Finally, resigned to another birthday without Erwin and disheartened by her husband’s abrupt departure, she reluctantly tries on her husband’s gift. Perhaps the saddest irony to befall the German hero that day is the fact that the fancy, stylish, gray Parisian suede shoes that he had prided himself on getting his wife for her birthday do not fit her.
Lang slowly hangs up the phone, shocked by the two phone calls. Clearly, the field marshal is deeply upset. Lang heard it in his voice. And on top of that, the field marshal is never indecisive about anything.
Lang snaps out of the daze. He tells his mother what he is doing, then goes to his room and begins packing feverishly for the return trip. Why did Rommel change the meeting time? Probably so that Lang could get there in time. Then what? Return to France? Or, maybe to still see the Führer.
Lang leaves his mother about ten minutes later.
In a late-morning conference at the Berghof, Hitler unrolls a large map across a marble table. He points to the Seine Bay and updates Göring on the situation. He says jubilantly, “They’re landing here and here,” pointing to the Calvados coast; “just where we expected!” Göring grins back and agrees. Now his squadrons should be able to fly west, storm in over the landing areas, and wreak havoc in the enemy rear areas. The reputation of the Luftwaffe, which has suffered so badly this last year, will finally be restored.
By late afternoon, the mood at German Supreme Command has reached a strange pinnacle as optimism reigns. The enemy is now going to pay dearly for daring to step ashore on occupied Europe! In Göring’s jubilation over now being able to act, he sends his staff a congratulatory message, thanking them for the great prepatory work they did in the months before the invasion.
At Hitler’s formal noontime conference, his military staff, anxious, agitated, and worried over the news, is surprised when he walks in with a confident smile and pleasant demeanor. He tells them that this invasion is just a ruse and the real one will come sometime later at another location. This opinion has been reinforced by von Rundstedt’s report to them late that morning: “Still no clear picture whether we are seeing a diversion or the real attack.” He adds that what he has wanted for a while now has finally come to pass. Referring to the Western Allies, he says with a grin, “I am face to face with my real enemies!”
Today’s schedule calls for a reception at nearby Klessheim Castle which is too important to cancel. He is to meet with Hungarian Prime Minister Horthy, Czechoslovakian leader JosefTito and Romania’s Marshal Antonescu about improving their war industrial effort. So after the conference, he is driven to the castle in Salzburg at noontime. When he enters the reception room, he beams at his guests. “It’s begun at last!” he says. “Now, we can give them a nice little packet!”
Two hours after greeting the Eastern European dignitaries, he has another meeting. In it he goes into a short rant about Göring’s Luftwaffe being absent over the invasion area, and how they only have a meager 327 aircraft to oppose the entire invasion. Still happy though, that the enemy have committed themselves, he mulls over OB West’s plea to release the reserve panzers, and finally agrees at 3:30 p.m. Then he returns to the Berghof and has a late meal with a few Nazi party senior officials, their wives, and his mistress, Eva Braun. Now though, he starts to worry, sipping tea, quietly sitting with his guests.
He takes a nap for an hour in the evening, and finally has another conference at 11 p.m. to get updates on the situation. Even though the reports of the enemy landings show a strong effort, he remains convinced that this invasion is only a diversion.
By late afternoon, the crisis on Omaha beach is over. The sun has come out. The light winds blowing in from the Channel have thinned the haze and smoky fog created by the explosions, carrying the murky smog inland. Allied bombers and fighters have renewed their attacks on the fixed German positions atop the bluffs and on key artillery positions inland. Several aircraft are coordinating their attacks with the infantrymen.
Ammunition for the surviving German coastal batteries has now nearly run out. With no supplies forthcoming, they are forced to slacken or cease their fire. Allied sappers have finally blasted holes in the anti-tank dike just below the bluffs and facing the beach. The surviving Germans are now retreating.
The Americans at Utah beach, not having had nearly as much trouble as their buddies on Omaha, are exiting the coast area in substantial numbers as they move inland to join the fighting there. Most of the batteries on Utah have either been overrun or are out of shells and must be destroyed.
British and Canadian troops have been moving forward since noon. A couple small inland towns have already been captured. The British 3rd Infantry Division is moving on to Bénouville, while the Canadians push past Ver-sur-Mer, some 2½ miles inland.
The British 6th Airborne troops defending the Caen canal bridge have been relieved by Lord Lovat’s commandos. This links the assault tr
oops from the beach with the paratroopers.
Meanwhile, von Luck’s panzergrenadiers on the east bank of the Orne have fallen back…
Rommel, having met up with Lang, is racing hell-for-leather across the countryside, Freudenstadt now a couple of hours behind them. As the minutes tick by, Rommel stars glumly at the road ahead, crazy with impatience and concern. The critical battle upon which so much depends, the struggle that his people know he has to win, has started over thirteen hours ago in his absence. Every minute another drop of blood in the life of Germany falling to the ground. He has to get back soon.
At the Calvados beaches, his men are fighting the most important battle of their lives while their leader, the great Desert Fox, is taking a joy ride across France. In the past they had followed him, and had fought and died for him, because he was always right next to them, usually in the worst sector, sharing their dangers, joking with them, encouraging them, coordinating them, as he commanded often desperate situations right from their midst. He had learned that when they talked about following him anywhere, their favorite expression was Er hat die Strapazen mitgemacht.8 Well, he has certainly missed the boat this time. They had been hit, and he was at home, lounging around. His Fingerspitzengefuehl that had worked so well in North Africa has failed him.
It isn’t fair. He had sacrificed so much for so long, and now at the most critical time, he has erred in going home. The Führer will be furious, and probably not care for his motives or listen to his reasons. He will just scream at him. The field marshal will permanently lose his mentor. Worse, Hitler will take it out on the German people and they will end up fighting to the end, as their country is reduced to ruins.
Glancing at Daniel, he impatiently urges his driver on, saying, “Tempo! Tempo! Tempo“ The Horch surges ahead as Daniel gives it more gas. Rommel stares ahead at the road rushing at them. Lang has never seen Rommel so despondent.
Countdown to D-Day Page 83