The Second World War

by Antony Beevor

  Allied aircraft attacking the Maastricht and Albert Canal bridges to the north-west also suffered heavily, but these attempts were too little and too late. The German Eighteenth Army was by now deep into Dutch territory, where resistance was crumbling. Reichenau’s Sixth Army was across the Albert Canal, bypassing Liège, while another corps advanced on Antwerp.

  The BEF, now established along the pitifully narrow River Dyle, and the French formations advancing to their positions received little attention from the Luftwaffe. This worried some of the more perceptive officers who wondered whether they were being drawn into a trap. The most immediate concern, however, was the French First Army’s slow progress, now made infinitely worse by the growing volume of Belgian refugees. There were many more waves to come as scenes observed in Brussels indicated. ‘They walked, they rode in cars and carts or on donkeys, were pushed in bathchairs, even in wheelbarrows. There were youths on bicycles, old men, old women, babies, peasant women, kerchiefs covering their heads, riding on farm carts piled with mattresses, furniture, pots. A long line of nuns, their faces red with perspiration under their coifs, stirred the dust with their long grey robes… The stations were like drawings from those of Russia during the revolution, with people sleeping on the floor, huddled against the walls, women with weeping babies, men pale and exhausted.’

  On 12 May, both in Paris and in London, newspapers gave the impression that the German onslaught had been halted. The Sunday Chronicle announced ‘Despair in Berlin’. But German forces had crossed Holland to the sea, and the remnants of the Dutch army had pulled back into the triangle of Amsterdam, Utrecht and Rotterdam. General Giraud’s Seventh Army, having now reached southern Holland, continued to suffer heavy attacks by the Luftwaffe.

  In Belgium, General René Prioux’s Cavalry Corps, the advance guard of the delayed First Army, managed to beat back the over-extended German panzer units advancing on the Dyle line. But again Allied squadrons attempting to bomb bridges and columns were massacred by German light flak units with their quadruple 20mm guns.

  To the slight resentment of the German forces fighting to cross the Meuse, German news broadcasts emphasized only the battles in Holland and northern Belgium. Little was said about the main attack in the south. This was a deliberate part of the deception plan to distract the Allies’ attention from the Sedan and Dinant sectors. Gamelin still refused to acknowledge the threat to the upper Meuse despite several warnings, but General Alphonse Georges, the commander-in-chief of the north-eastern front, a sad-faced old general much admired by Churchill, intervened to give air priority to Huntziger’s sector around Sedan. Georges, who was detested by Gamelin, had never quite recovered from serious wounds to the chest in 1934 inflicted by the assassin of King Alexander of Yugoslavia.

  Matters were not helped by the confusing chain of command in the French army, largely designed by Gamelin in his determination to undermine the position of his deputy. But even Georges had reacted to the threat too late. French units north-east of the Meuse were pulled back across the river, some in complete disorder. Guderian’s 1st Panzer Division entered the town of Sedan against little opposition. The withdrawing French troops at least managed to blow the bridges at Sedan, but already German pioneer bridging companies had demonstrated their speed and skill.

  That afternoon, Rommel’s 7th Panzer Division also reached the Meuse downstream near Dinant. Although the Belgian rearguard blew up the main bridge, grenadiers from the 5th Panzer Division had discovered an old weir at Houx. Concealed by a heavy river mist that night, several companies managed to cross and establish a bridgehead. Corap’s Ninth Army had failed to get troops forward in time to defend the sector.

  On 13 May, Rommel’s troops began to force a crossing of the Meuse at two other points, but came under heavy fire from well-positioned French regulars. Rommel came to the crossings near Dinant in his eight-wheeled armoured car to assess the situation. Finding that his armoured vehicles had no smoke shells with them, he ordered his men to set some houses on fire upwind of the crossing point. Then, bringing in some heavier Mark IV Panzers, he had them firing across the river at the French positions to cover the infantry in their heavy rubber assault boats. ‘Hardly had the first boats been lowered into the water than all hell broke loose,’ wrote an officer with the 7th Panzer’s reconnaissance battalion. ‘Snipers and heavy artillery straddled the defenceless men in the boats. With our tanks and our own artillery we tried to neutralize the enemy, but he was too well screened. The infantry attack came to a standstill.’

  This day marked the start of the Rommel legend. To his officers it appeared as if he was almost everywhere: climbing on to tanks to direct the fire, accompanying the combat pioneers, and crossing the river himself. His energy and bravery kept his men going, when the attack might have flagged. At one stage he took command of an infantry battalion across the Meuse when French tanks appeared. Perhaps it is part of the myth, but Rommel is supposed to have ordered his men, who had no anti-tank weapons, to fire signal flares at them. The French tank crews, thinking they were armour-piercing shells, promptly withdrew. German losses were heavy, but by the evening Rommel had two bridgeheads established, the one at Houx and the other at the heavily contested crossing at Dinant. That night his pioneers built pontoon bridges to take the tanks across.

  Guderian, preparing his own crossings either side of Sedan, had been involved in a furious row with his superior, Generaloberst von Kleist. Guderian took the risk of ignoring him and persuaded the Luftwaffe to support his plan with a massive concentration of aircraft from II and VIII Fliegerkorps. The latter was commanded by Generalmajor Wolfram Frei-herr von Richthofen, a younger cousin of the First World War air ace the ‘Red Baron’ and the former commander of the Condor Legion responsible for the destruction of Guernica. Richthofen’s Stukas, screaming down with their ‘Jericho trumpets’, would shake the morale of the French troops defending the Sedan sector.

  Astonishingly, the French artillery, which had a great concentration of German vehicles and men to aim at, had been ordered to limit their fire, to save ammunition. The divisional commander had expected the Germans to take another two days to bring up their own field guns before crossing the river. He still had not realized that the Stukas were now the flying artillery of the panzer spearheads, and the Stukas attacked his gun positions with remarkable accuracy. As the town of Sedan burned furiously from heavy shelling and bombing, the Germans rushed the river in their heavy rubber assault boats, paddling furiously. They suffered many casualties, but eventually assault pioneers were across and attacking the concrete bunkers with flamethrowers and satchel charges.

  As dusk was falling, a wild rumour spread among the terrorized French reservists that enemy tanks were already across the river and that they were about to be cut off. Communications between units and commanders had virtually collapsed as a result of the bombs severing field telephone lines. First the French artillery, then the divisional commander himself, began to retreat. A spirit of sauve qui peut took hold. The ammunition stockpiles which had been hoarded for another day fell to the enemy without a fight. The older reservists, nicknamed ‘crocodiles’, had survived the First World War and did not wish to perish now in what they saw as an unfair fight. The anti-war tracts of the French Communist Party had influenced many, but German propaganda claiming that the British had got them into this war was the most effective. Reynaud’s pledge in March to the government in London that France would never seek a separate peace with Germany had only increased their suspicions.

  French generals, with their mindset from the great victory of 1918, were completely overtaken by events. General Gamelin, during his visit that day to the headquarters of General Georges, still expected the main thrust to come through Belgium. Only in the evening did he discover that the Germans were across the Meuse. He ordered Huntziger’s Second Army to mount a counter-offensive, but by the time the general had redeployed his formations it was too late to launch anything more than local attacks.

 
; In any case, Huntziger had completely misunderstood Guderian’s intentions. He assumed that the breakthrough was intended to strike south and roll up the Maginot Line from behind. As a result he strengthened his forces on the right when Guderian was advancing through his far weaker left. The fall of Sedan, with all its echoes of Napoleon III’s surrender in 1870, struck horror into the hearts of French commanders. In the early hours of the next morning, 14 May, Captain André Beaufre, accompanying General Doumenc, entered the headquarters of General Georges. ‘The atmosphere was that of a family in which there had been a death,’ Beaufre wrote later. ‘Our front has broken at Sedan!’ Georges told the new arrivals. ‘There has been a collapse.’ The exhausted general flung himself into a chair and burst into tears.

  With three German bridgeheads established round Sedan, Dinant and a smaller one in between near Monthermé, where Reinhardt’s XLI Panzer Corps was starting to catch up after a tough fight, a breach nearly eighty kilometres across was about to open in the French front. There would have been a good chance of crushing the German spearheads if French commanders had reacted more rapidly. On the Sedan sector, General Pierre Lafontaine of the 55th Division had already been given two extra infantry regiments and two battalions of light tanks, but he did not issue his orders for the counter-attack for nine hours. The tank battalions were also slowed by fleeing soldiers from the 51st Division blocking the roads and by poor communications. During the night, the Germans had wasted no time in getting more of their panzers across the Meuse. The French tanks finally went into action in the early morning, but the vast majority were knocked out. The collapse of the 51st Division had meanwhile triggered panic in neighbouring formations.

  The Allied air forces sent in 152 bombers and 250 fighters that morning to attack the pontoon bridges over the Meuse. But the targets proved too small to hit, Luftwaffe Messerschmitt squadrons were out in force and the German flak detachments put up a murderous fire. The RAF suffered its worst casualty rate ever, with forty bombers out of seventy-one shot down. The French, in desperation, then sent in some of their most obsolete bombers which were massacred. Georges ordered forward an untested armoured division and a motorized infantry division under General Jean Flavigny, but they were delayed by lack of fuel. Flavigny was directed to attack the Sedan bridgehead from the south because, like Huntziger, Georges thought that the main threat was on the right.

  Another counter-attack was attempted to the north by the 1st Armoured Division against Rommel’s bridgehead. But again delays proved fatal due to Belgian refugees blocking roads and petrol bowsers unable to get through. The next morning, 15 May, Rommel’s spearhead surprised the division’s heavy B1 tanks as they were refuelling. A confused battle began, with the French tank crews at a severe disadvantage. Rommel left the 5th Panzer Division to continue the battle while he surged on ahead. If they had been ready, the French tanks could have scored a significant victory. In the event, although the French 1st Armoured Division managed to destroy nearly a hundred German tanks, it was virtually annihilated by the end of the day, mainly by German anti-tank guns.

  The Allied forces in the Low Countries still had little idea of the threat to their rear. On 13 May, General Prioux’s Cavalry Corps fought a determined withdrawal to the line of the Dyle, where the rest of Blanchard’s First Army was getting into position. Although Prioux’s Somua tanks were well armoured, German gunnery and manoeuvre were far better, and the lack of radios in the French tanks proved a major handicap. Having lost nearly half its strength after a valiant battle, Prioux’s corps was withdrawn. It was in no state to attack south-east against the Ardennes breakthrough as Gamelin wanted.

  The French Seventh Army began to withdraw towards Antwerp after its fruitless advance to Breda to link up with the isolated Dutch forces. Although ill trained and badly armed, the Dutch troops fought bravely against the 9th Panzer Division fighting its way towards Rotterdam. The German Eighteenth Army commander was frustrated by their resistance, but finally that evening the panzers broke through.

  The next day, the Dutch negotiated the surrender of Rotterdam, but the German commander had failed to inform the Luftwaffe. A major bombing raid was mounted on the city. Over 800 civilians were killed. The Dutch foreign minister claimed that evening that 30,000 had been killed, an announcement which caused horror in Paris and London. In any case, General Henri Winkelman, the Dutch commander-in-chief, decided on a general surrender to avoid further loss of life. Hitler, on hearing the news, promptly ordered a triumphal march through Amsterdam with units from the SS Leibstandarte Adolf Hitler and the 9th Panzer Division.

  Hitler was both amused and exasperated when he received a telegram from the former Kaiser Wilhelm II, still in his Dutch exile at Apeldoorn. ‘My Führer,’ it read, ‘I congratulate you and hope that under your marvellous leadership the German monarchy will be restored completely.’ Hitler was amazed that the old Kaiser expected him to play Bismarck. ‘What an idiot!’ he said to his valet, Linge.

  The French counter-attack planned against the eastern part of the Sedan salient for 14 May was first delayed and then called off by General Flavigny, the commander of XXI Corps. He made the disastrous decision to split up the 3rd Armoured Division simply to create a defensive line between Chémery and Stonne. Huntziger was still convinced that the Germans were heading south behind the Maginot Line. He accordingly pivoted his army round to bar the route to the south. This succeeded only in opening up the route to the west.

  General von Kleist, when informed of the arrival of French reinforcements, ordered Guderian to halt until more forces came up to protect that flank. After another fierce row, Guderian managed to convince him that he could continue his advance with the 1st and 2nd Panzer Divisions, providing he sent the 10th Panzer Division and the Grossdeutschland Infantry Regiment under the Graf von Schwerin against the village of Stonne, high on a commanding hill. Early on 15 May, the Grossdeutschland went straight into the attack without waiting for the 10th Panzer. Flavigny’s tank crews fought back, and the village changed hands several times in the course of the day with heavy casualties on both sides. In the narrow streets of the village, the Grossdeutschland anti-tank guns finally knocked out the heavy B1 tanks, and the exhausted German infantrymen were reinforced by panzergrenadiers from the 10th Panzer. The Grossdeutschland had lost 103 men killed and 459 wounded. It was the heaviest German loss in the whole campaign.

  General Corap began to withdraw his Ninth Army, but that sparked a rapid disintegration and further widened the gap. Reinhardt’s Panzer Corps in the middle had not only caught up with the other two on 15 May, its 6th Panzer Division outpaced them dramatically, with an advance of sixty kilometres to Montcornet which split the hapless French 2nd Armoured Division in two. It was this deep strike into the French rear which convinced General Robert Touchon, who was trying to assemble a new Sixth Army to plug the gap, that they were too late. He ordered his formations to fall back to south of the River Aisne. There were now very few French forces left between the German panzers and the Channel coast.

  Guderian had been instructed not to advance until sufficient infantry divisions had been brought across the Meuse. All his superiors, Kleist, Rundstedt and Halder, were deeply nervous about an over-extended panzer spearhead exposed to a major French counter-attack from the south. Even Hitler was fearful of the risks. But Guderian sensed that the French were in chaos. The opportunity was too good to miss. Thus what has erroneously been described as a Blitzkrieg strategy was to a large degree improvised on the ground.

  The German spearheads raced on, with their reconnaissance battalions out ahead in eight-wheeled armoured cars and motorcycles with sidecars. They seized bridges which the French had not had time to prepare for demolition. The black-uniformed panzer crews were filthy, unshaven and exhausted. Rommel allowed the 7th and 5th Panzer Divisions little time to rest or even to service their vehicles. Most men kept going on Pervitin tablets (a metamphetamine) and the intoxication of overwhelming victory. Any French troops they encou
ntered were so stunned that they surrendered immediately. They were simply told to throw down their arms and keep marching ahead so that the German infantry coming along behind could deal with them.

  The second wave closely following the panzer divisions consisted of motorized infantry. Alexander Stahlberg, then a lieutenant with the 2nd Infantry Division (Motorized) but later Manstein’s aide-de-camp, gazed at ‘the ruins of a defeated French army: bullet-ridden vehicles, battered and burned-out tanks, abandoned guns, an unending chain of destruction’. They passed through empty villages, advancing with as little fear of a real enemy as they had on manoeuvres. Way behind came the infantry on foot, their jackboots burning, forced on by their officers to catch up. ‘Marching, marching. Always further, always towards the west,’ wrote one in his diary. Even their horses were ‘dead tired’.

  If Hitler had had his way the previous autumn the invasion of France would almost certainly have been a disaster. The success at Sedan was truly a miracle for the German army, which was short of ammunition. The Luftwaffe had enough bombs for only fourteen days of combat. In addition, the motorized and panzer formations would have been in a very vulnerable position. The heavier tanks–the Mark IIIs and Mark IVs–which were capable of taking on the French and British tanks had simply not been available then. And the need for training, especially of officers in an army which had expanded from 100,000 to 5.5 million, had also required those extra months. The twenty-nine postponements of Operation Yellow had allowed the Wehrmacht to replenish its reserves sufficiently and prepare properly.