Blomberg left the meeting so disturbed that he requested a meeting with Hitler the next day. After consulting with Fritsch, he attempted once again to persuade Hitler to drop what the military men saw as reckless thinking that would drive Germany into a major war. The meeting was stormy, and Hitler would not be persuaded. Neurath, equally alarmed at Hitler’s overly optimistic assessment of the international situation and his conviction that Britain and France would not intervene, also sought a meeting with the Führer, but Hitler brushed him off, refusing to see him until mid-January. Slow to come to decisions, Hitler rarely changed his mind once he had made them. As Ribbentrop later remarked, “it would have been easier to shift Mont Blanc than to get the Führer to reverse a decision.”
Within three months, Blomberg, Fritsch, and Neurath were forced out, and although it is often treated as a well-designed purge, the circumstances were quite different and unanticipated in each case. Blomberg was the first to fall. In January, the general married a young woman thirty-five years his junior. Blomberg sought Hitler’s approval, worrying that his fellow officers would shun her. She was a common shopgirl, a girl of the people. And, indeed, the army through the person of General Fritsch did protest that such a match was intolerable. Hitler was indignant at the snobbishness of the officer class—didn’t they know that there were no classes in the Third Reich? He even volunteered to serve as witness to the wedding and dragged Göring along as well. The wedding was a small, private affair and took place in the tender atmosphere of the War Ministry.
While the happy couple was vacationing, the Gestapo discovered disturbing evidence that the new Frau Blomberg was a woman with a past. They produced police files that revealed that the young bride had at one time been arrested for prostitution and that she had posed for pornographic photographs, taken, to make matters even more intolerable, by a Jewish photographer with whom she was living. Hitler, Goebbels noted, was “shattered” by these discoveries: “If a German Field Marshal marries a whore,” the Führer said in disbelief, “then anything in the world is possible.” The only honorable way out for Blomberg, Goebbels asserted, was the pistol. But Blomberg was a longtime Hitler supporter, and the Führer was reluctant to part with him. Unwilling to face the disgraced Blomberg under these awkward circumstances, he dispatched Göring to make the general an offer. If Blomberg would agree to annul the marriage, he would be permitted to remain at his post; if not, he would be compelled to leave. To the consternation of one and all, Blomberg refused to part with his bride and submitted his resignation.
The reverberations of the Blomberg affair were still resounding when a second scandal rocked the military. In vetting General Fritsch for the post of chief of staff of the army some three years earlier, the Gestapo had unearthed allegations that Fritsch had had a homosexual encounter with a young man from the Hitler Youth. Fritsch was a highly respected officer with an unblemished record. He categorically denied the allegations, and no charges were filed. The matter seemed settled. But with the Blomberg scandal in full bloom, Heydrich produced the earlier case file, and a new investigation was launched. The evidence gathered by the Gestapo was at best unreliable. Yet, pressed by Goebbels and Himmler, Hitler was convinced that the army, indeed, the regime, could not afford another high-profile scandal. He would not let the matter drop. Vehemently denying the charges, Fritsch resigned under pressure on February 3 but demanded a military court-martial, which Hitler reluctantly granted. On March 18 Fritsch was acquitted—it proved to be a case of mistaken identity, which Himmler and Heydrich had known for some time—but the damage was done. Fritsch was allowed to retain his rank but was removed from the command hierarchy and allowed to rejoin his old artillery unit.
The purge was not over. In the following days Hitler relieved fourteen generals and reassigned forty-six senior officers, many of whom were known to be less than committed to National Socialism. He tapped General Walther von Brauchitsch to replace Fritsch, and he rebuffed the efforts of both Göring and Himmler to succeed Blomberg as minister of war. As a consolation prize, he promoted Göring to the rank of Reich marshal. To complete the reshuffling of his military command, Hitler abolished the post of war minister and anointed himself Supreme Commander of the Armed Forces (Oberkommando der Wehrmacht or OKW), giving him formal control over Germany’s entire military establishment. Wilhelm Keitel, a desk general known for his pliability, became chief of staff of the OKW, and General Alfred Jodl assumed the post of chief of operations. Resentment in the army ran high.
Neurath did not escape the wave of dismissals. On February 6, 1938, Hitler dismissed his foreign minister. It hardly came as a surprise. A conservative holdover from the Schleicher government, he had been a reassuring presence for the old conservative elites, who viewed him as a restraining influence on Hitler. But by 1938, his cautious approach to diplomacy was increasingly out of step with the aggressive policies now being pursued by the regime. His influence had diminished steadily since 1935, gnawed away by the peripatetic Ribbentrop and his organization. Cleaning house of the old guard, Hitler also dismissed conservative ambassadors to Rome and Tokyo, along with Franz von Papen, who had served as German ambassador in Vienna since 1934. It was to Ribbentrop that Hitler turned to replace Neurath.
The haughty Ribbentrop was almost universally disliked by other Nazi leaders, but he had steadily gained in influence with Hitler since the Anglo-German Naval Agreement, moving from the periphery of power in 1933 to its center five years later. Supremely confident of his own views and impervious to criticism, he was convinced that he understood the Führer’s wishes and eagerly took them up as his own. As French ambassador François-Poncet observed, Ribbentrop seemed determined to be “more Hitlerian than Hitler,” reinforcing Hitler’s most bellicose tendencies. Ribbentrop had a talent for ascertaining Hitler’s policy desires and then telling him exactly what he wanted to hear. In this symbiotic relationship, Hitler, not surprisingly, thought his new foreign minister brilliant.
The circumstances that led to the dismissals of Blomberg and Fritsch were unanticipated, hardly part of a carefully planned purge, but the upshot of their sacking, combined with the removal of Schacht and Neurath, was to leave Hitler in unfettered control of Germany’s military, economic, and foreign establishments. His power was absolute. With little to restrain him, the Third Reich entered a new, radical phase in both foreign and domestic policy. It began unexpectedly in February 1938 when Kurt von Schuschnigg, the chancellor of Austria, cast about for a strategy to deal with an increasingly threatening Germany. In July 1936 Schuschnigg had agreed to a treaty with Germany that called for the Reich to recognize full Austrian sovereignty, to abstain from interference in Austria’s domestic affairs, and for Austria to follow a policy “that was at all times in conformity with the fact that Austria considers itself a German state.” But by 1938 he was becoming anxious about mounting Nazi agitation in Austria and about Hitler’s menacing foreign policy posture. Within the Reich government, Göring was aggressively calling for the absorption of Austria. Acting in his capacity as head of the Four Year Plan, he pressed for a customs union with Austria and a coordination of the Austrian economy with that of Germany. Incorporation of Austria into the Reich would be even better, bringing Austria’s rich iron deposits and skilled workforce into the Four Year Plan.
Austria found itself increasingly isolated, and Nazi agitation was increasing. In 1934, in the aftermath of the failed Nazi Putsch, Italy had pledged to act as a guarantor of Austrian sovereignty, but with the improved relations between Italy and Germany, Mussolini had begun to drift away from that commitment. In talks with Austrian representatives he insisted that Italy’s position had not changed, that Italy still strongly favored an independent Austria, but he also intimated that this was essentially an internal German issue, a matter to be dealt with by the two German states. Perhaps, he suggested, the most fruitful course of action was a bit of face-to-face diplomacy, allowing the leaders of the two German states to talk through their difficulties. For so
me time, Schuschnigg had himself been interested in such a meeting, and others, in both the Austrian and German governments, endorsed this idea. Franz von Papen, whom Hitler had just sacked as ambassador to Austria, was sent scurrying back to Vienna to broach the topic with Schuschnigg.
Schuschnigg liked the idea, and Papen eagerly arranged for him to travel to Hitler’s Alpine retreat on the Obersalzberg, just across the Austrian border. The meeting was set for February 12. On the night before, the Austrian chancellor arrived at Salzburg. Accompanying him were only his foreign minister and another official. The meeting was to be a secret, low-key encounter to clear the air. The next morning Papen met the small Austrian party at the border and escorted them to Hitler’s vastly expanded Berghof, where over the next crisis-laden months so much diplomatic activity was centered. The roads leading from Berchtesgaden to the Berghof were so ice-covered and foggy that the party had to travel in a military tracked vehicle, adding to the pervasive atmosphere of isolation.
The meeting did not go as Schuschnigg had expected. Present in the Berghof he found Ribbentrop and three generals, led by Keitel, who had just flown in from Berlin. After a cold, formal greeting, Schuschnigg was ushered into Hitler’s study for a private discussion. There all diplomatic niceties beat a hasty retreat. Hardly giving his guest a chance to speak, Hitler launched into a tirade that lasted two hours. Austria, Hitler began, had never helped Germany; “the whole history of Austria is just one uninterrupted act of treason, and,” he added ferociously, “I am absolutely determined to put an end to all this.” Schuschnigg made an effort to defend his homeland, but Hitler was not having it. “I have a historic mission and this mission I will fulfill because Providence has destined me to do so, I thoroughly believe in this mission; it is my life.” German troops were massing on the Austrian border, merely waiting for his order to begin the invasion. The presence of the three generals, who looked terribly intimidating but said not a word the entire day, was intended to reinforce that ominous threat. At one point during a pause in the meeting, Keitel confessed to one of the Austrian party that he had no idea why he or the other military men were there. It was all theater. “You don’t seriously believe you can hold me up for half an hour, do you?” Hitler sneered. “Who knows, perhaps I’ll appear some time overnight in Vienna, like a spring storm. Then you’ll see something.”
After a break for lunch, while Hitler consulted with aides, Schuschnigg was led into a room where Ribbentrop and Papen were waiting for him. There they presented him with a draft of the agreement Germany demanded. Vienna must agree to coordinate its foreign and economic policy with the Reich and to an exchange of army officers. The Austrian government must issue an amnesty for Nazis languishing in its prisons, and all restrictions on the activities of the Austrian Nazis must be lifted. Hitler also demanded the appointment of Arthur Seyss-Inquart, a prominent Nazi sympathizer, as minister of the interior in charge of all Austrian security forces, a move ominously reminiscent of the first step in the Nazis’ seizure of power in Germany. When Schuschnigg raised objections to several points, Ribbentrop warned that the agreement must be accepted unconditionally. These measures were not talking points for negotiation, Ribbentrop stressed, but demands, and they must be met immediately. It was an ultimatum.
When later in the afternoon the agreement had been typed up and Schuschnigg and Hitler again sat down together, the Führer reiterated that position. “Here is the draft of the document,” he said. “There is nothing to be discussed about it. I will not change one single iota. You will either sign it as it stands or else our meeting has been useless. In that case I shall decide during the night what will be done next.” Despite Hitler’s bullying rants, Schuschnigg did not give in. He explained that he was willing to sign the draft agreement, but, citing the Austrian constitution, he did not have the authority to act on these matters without the consent of the Austrian president, Wilhelm Miklas. He would sign the document, as Hitler insisted, but the Führer must understand that it meant nothing without the president’s signature. He would consult with President Miklas upon his return to Vienna and then communicate with Berlin. Hitler relented. With his generals looming in the background, he informed Schuschnigg that he had decided to change his mind “for the first time in my life. But I warn you,” he said, “this is your very last chance. I have given you three more days before the Agreement goes into effect.”
Darkness had fallen before a badly shaken Schuschnigg and his party managed to escape back down the mountain into Berchtesgaden and across the border. He mustn’t worry, Papen assured him as they rode along, the next meeting would be different. “Now you have seen what the Führer can be like at times.” But, he assured Schuschnigg, “the next time it will be different. You know the Führer can be absolutely charming.” Having seen Hitler revealed as the gangster that he was, Schuschnigg knew that “there would be no next time. . . . There would be no more discussions about Austria.” Of that he was sure. “And I also knew that there was little room for any hope.”
In the following days, Schuschnigg turned to Mussolini, Austria’s protector, who had no comfort to offer. Neither did France or Britain. With no international support and no viable options short of war, Schuschnigg complied with the terms of the agreement and, despite Miklas’s profound reservations, appointed Seyss-Inquart interior minister. But Berlin was impatient. Hitler was scheduled to deliver a major speech on February 20, and was anxious to have the Austrian matter settled. He intended to announce the agreement with Austria, thanking Schuschnigg for his “great understanding and warmhearted readiness” to serve the interests of both countries.
Hitler’s speech on that day lasted more than two hours and offered a preview of the themes that would govern Nazi policy in the coming months. Germany was only too aware of “the painful consequences of the confusion introduced to the European map and the economic and political constellation of the peoples by the insane act of Versailles.” He lamented that “two of the states at our borders alone encompass a mass of over ten million Germans. . . . Against their own free will, they were prevented from uniting with the Reich by virtue of the peace treaties.” That was distressing enough, but this imposed separation could not be allowed to lead to “a situation in which the races are deprived of rights . . . the general rights of völkisch self-determination . . . which were solemnly guaranteed to us by Wilson’s Fourteen Points.” This was a situation that could not be sustained in the long run. “It is unbearable for a world power to know that there are racial comrades at its side being constantly subjected to the most severe suffering because of their sympathy or affiliation with their race, its fate, and its world view.”
Though Austria was ostensibly the issue of the day, Hitler was establishing a broader context for his policy, and while not mentioning either country explicitly, the linkage between Austria and Czechoslovakia was obvious. “It cannot be denied that, as long as Germany was powerless and defenseless, it had no choice but to tolerate this unremitting persecution of German beings at its borders.” But now that the situation had changed, he saw it as “Germany’s duty to protect those German racial comrades who are not, of their own power, in a position to secure for themselves . . . the right of general human, political, and philosophical freedom!”
Hitler’s remarks on February 20 seemed to suggest that the Austrian issue was essentially resolved, but in Vienna Schuschnigg had a surprise of his own. While speaking at a mass meeting in Innsbruck on March 9, the Austrian chancellor dropped a bombshell, announcing that a national plebiscite would be held on March 13, only four days away. The people were to vote yes or no on “a free and independent, German and Christian Austria,” wording that was bound to alarm the Germans. For a change, it was Hitler who was caught off guard. Beside himself with rage, he informed the army that the die was now cast. A military operation, which he had hoped to avoid, now seemed unavoidable.
From this point, events moved swiftly. Germany immediately protested, demanding postponement of the p
lebiscite for another two weeks. A full-blown crisis was upon them, and a pall of uneasiness descended upon the German public. A broad “war psychosis” was everywhere, both the Gestapo and the Social Democratic underground reported. “There was not a trace of enthusiasm as there was in August 1914. On the contrary,” the Sopade (Social Democratic Underground) observed, “a great worry, uneasiness, and deep anxiety prevailed. . . . One could hear comments like ‘what in the end does Austria matter to us. One should just leave us in peace. Should we become involved in a war over this? What do we get out of it?’ ”
While the public worried, the Wehrmacht was frantically drafting an operational plan for an invasion of Austria. It was a slapdash, improvised affair. The generals were concerned about the reaction of the Czechs, who in turn were nervous about a possible German attack on their territory. Perhaps they would seize this opportunity to launch a preventive assault on the Reich. Even a mobilization of their troops would threaten the entire operation. Despite these concerns, Hitler, on March 11, issued an order for German troops to move against Austria. The order emphasized that the entire operation must “be conducted without the use of force, in the manner of a peaceful entry, welcomed by the population.” However, “if resistance be encountered . . . it is to be broken with utmost ruthlessness by force of arms.”
On Friday, March 11, Schuschnigg was awakened at 5:30 a.m. by a phone call from his chief of police. “The German border at Salzburg was closed completely about an hour ago,” he said. “All German customs officials have been withdrawn. Railroad traffic has been stopped.” A few hours later, Seyss-Inquart informed Schuschnigg that he had been in telephone contact with Göring, who gave orders to inform the Austrian chancellor that “the plebiscite has to be postponed within the hour.” Instead, another plebiscite was to be announced. This was to be held in two weeks, in the same fashion but according to wording supplied by the Reich government. Seyss-Inquart was given an hour to respond. If no response was received, Göring would assume that he had been prevented from calling and would take appropriate action.
The Third Reich Page 50