The Memoirs of Field-Marshal Wilhelm Keitel

by Walter Gorlitz

  I had deemed it my duty during the course of that summer to leave Hitler in no doubt that both the General Staff and his leading generals shared the gravest anxiety about the possibility that a war might break out; not only were their memories of war as such all too forbidding, but they considered the army totally unprepared for war, and they regarded the danger of war on two fronts as a particularly ominous spectre which would inevitably seal our fates should it ever emerge. I thought it important for him to know this, although I was aware that this would only intensify his mistrust for his generals still further.

  It was for this reason that early in August 1939 he conceived the idea of addressing his ideas to the various army chiefs of staff by themselves, in other words without their Commanders-in-Chief, at the Berghof. From the shadows I was probably in the best position to study its effect and I realised that he had failed to achieve his object: for while General von Wietersheim [chief of staff of the Second Army Group] was the only one to find his tongue enough to show by his questions how little he agreed with what Hitler had outlined, this in itself probably crystallised in Hitler’s mind the suspicion that he was confronted with an iron phalanx of men who inwardly refused to be swayed by any speech they thought was just a propaganda speech. Hitler never spoke to me about his impression of this meeting, but he certainly would have done had he been at all satisfied with it.

  It was a bitter disappointment for him, and his disillusionment turned into a pronounced distaste for the General Staff and for its ‘caste’ arrogance.

  All the more remarkable was his Berghof speech delivered on 22nd August to the generals of the eastern armies ranged against Poland, a speech delivered with the finest sense of psychological timing and application. Hitler was an extraordinarily gifted orator, with a masterly capability of moulding his words and phrases to suit his audience. I would even go so far as to say that he had learned his lesson from the ill-conceived meeting with the chiefs of staff, and had realised that trying to set them at odds with their commanders-in-chief had been a psychological error. Other versions of this particular speech have been subjectively distorted, as the minute taken by Admiral Boehm, who must be regarded as absolutely impartial, clearly shows.

  On 24th August, Hitler arrived in Berlin and on the 26th the invasion of Poland was due to begin. The events in the Reich Chancellery during the days prior to 3rd September are of such world-wide and lasting historical importance that it will be better for me to leave their logical analysis and exact interpretation to professional historians; I myself can contribute but little from my own experience, and unfortunately I dispose over no notes or memoranda upon which to base my own recollections.

  Towards noon on 25th August, I was summoned for the first time to the Reich Chancellery to see the Führer. Hitler had just received from [the Italian] ambassador Attolico a personal letter from Mussolini, a few paragraphs of which the Führer proceeded to read out to me. It was the Duce’s reply to a highly confidential letter written by Hitler from the Berghof a few days before, in which he had told him about the planned clash with Poland and about his determination to resolve the undecided issue of the Danzig Corridor by military action should Poland—or England on Poland’s behalf—refuse to give way.

  Hitler had for various reasons named a day several days later [i.e. than had actually been planned] for his operations against Poland; as he told me himself, he was counting on the contents of his letter being immediately forwarded to London by his so ‘reliable’ Foreign Office, and this, he imagined, would make it plain that he really was serious in his intentions, without on the other hand divulging the true timetable of his military operations, so that even if the Poles were forewarned the planned element of tactical surprise would not be lost to the attackers. Finally, by bringing forward the announcement of the date, Hitler hoped to rush the British into precipitate intervention to prevent the outbreak of war. This he certainly expected them to do, and for this he was banking on Mussolini’s support.

  Mussolini’s reaction was Hitler’s first disillusionment in this gamble; the latter had counted upon Italy’s support as a matter of course, and even upon aid of a military nature; Italy had after all signed without reservation a military aid pact [the ‘Pact of Steel’], and Hitler had expected from Mussolini the same brand of Nibelungen-loyalty as he had himself to no personal advantage displayed towards Italy at the time of the Abyssinian campaign. Mussolini’s letter was a rude shock to Hitler: for the Duce wrote that unfortunately he would not be able to stand by his agreement as the King of Italy was refusing to sign the mobilisation order, and as this was the Monarch’s sole prerogative, he was powerless to act. Nor was that all: Italy was claimed to be unready for war, she lacked arms, equipment and ammunition. Even if he, Mussolini, did control her industrial armament capacity, there was a great shortage of raw materials: copper, manganese, steel, rubber and so forth. If he were to be granted tangible aid by Germany in these fields, he would naturally consider reviewing Italy’s position in the event of a shooting war.

  After this refusal from Italy, Hitler had me telephoned at once to find out whether there was any possibility of our parting with the required materials: he had asked Attolico to check back with Rome what quantities of these scarce commodities were needed and told him that he had directed me to find out how far we would be able to meet Italy’s requirements.

  Only now did the real reason for Hitler’s disillusion at Mussolini’s ‘treachery’ come to light. In effect he said: ‘There’s absolutely no doubt that London has realised by now that Italy won’t go along with us. Now Britain’s attitude towards us will stiffen—now they will back up Poland to the hilt. The diplomatic result of my letter is exactly the opposite of what I had planned.’ Hitler’s irritation was painfully obvious to me, although outwardly he put on a great show of composure. He added that London would clearly take its Polish treaty off the shelf and ratify it now that there was no prospect of support for us from the Italian side.

  I drove back to the War Ministry to have a word with General Thomas about whether we could possibly part with the kind of raw materials demanded by Italy, over and above her current quotas, and in what quantities.

  Early that afternoon [25th August] I was summoned to the Reich Chancellery again, only this time urgently. Hitler was even more agitated than he had been that morning; he told me that a wire had reached him from the Reich Press Chief [Doctor Otto Dietrich] according to which the Anglo-Polish Treaty was to be ratified that very day; there was still no confirmation from the Foreign Office, he said, but experience showed that diplomats moved more ponderously than telegraphic agencies. He believed the telegram on hand to be substantially true and asked whether the army’s troop movements could be stopped, as he wanted to win time for further negotiations, even though he could no longer count upon Italy’s support.

  At my instance, Schmundt fetched the time-table on which the various measures and the stages of our military preparations had been marked in for each day up to D-day. On 23rd August, D-day had been fixed as the 26th; in other words we would not be up to the Polish frontier until one day after the authorisation of troop movements, which had been so planned that with one night’s march hostilities could begin early on the 26th. The Führer ordered me to issue an immediate preliminary order: ‘D-day postponed. Further orders follow.’ Then he sent for Brauchitsch and Halder at once.

  In half an hour Brauchitsch was there. Halder had to come over from Zossen, the War Office command post, as soon as he had issued the first orders for everything to stop. In my presence, a lengthy conference took place with these War Office representatives about the consequences of the hold-up, the possibility of revealing the troop movements that had been undertaken to date, and so forth. Hitler proposed to make up his mind about D-day on the 26th, as soon as he had obtained an overall view of the situation.

  On the forenoon of the 26th I was once again suddenly ordered to report urgently to the Reich Chancellery. It was a hive of activity. The
Führer was standing with von Ribbentrop in the conservatory, while Attolico was waiting for an audience with the Führer in the drawing room. The arrival of Henderson [the British ambassador] was expected at any moment.

  Highly agitated, the Führer told me: ‘Ribbentrop has just brought me a telegram from our embassy in London: “Treaty with Poland signed last night.” Didn’t I tell you yesterday that this is all Italy’s fault? As soon as they saw the news from Rome about Italy’s attitude to the Polish dispute, Britain ratified the Treaty ! All troop movements are to be stopped at once! I need time to negotiate. Send for Brauchitsch and Halder, then come straight to the drawing room for the conference with Attolico. He has had a reply from Rome.’

  As soon as I had issued my instructions and joined the talks with Attolico, Hitler showed me what Italy was demanding from us by way of raw materials. The demands were so exorbitant that there could be no question of our making such deliveries. The Führer indicated to Attolico that he thought there must have been some slip of the pen, or perhaps faulty hearing on somebody’s part: the figures seemed improbably high. He concluded by asking Attolico to check once again, as the quantities had surely been wrongly taken down. Attolico at once hastened to assure him—as I heard for myself—that the figures were absolutely correct. I was thereupon personally charged to find out from the Chief of the Italian Armed Forces through the medium of General von Rintelen, our military attaché, what the maximum requirements of the Italian High Command were.

  Hitler and I shared the impression that Attolico’s demands had been deliberately inflated to ensure that we were powerless to meet them from our own resources, and the Italians would then be able to back out of their obligations, justifying their shortcomings by our failure to meet their demands. What General von Rintelen learned subsequently confirmed our suspicions, for he was told the same quantities as had been demanded by Attolico; we had no hope of meeting them. The Duce had chiselled out of us the liberty of action he wanted.

  In agreement with the Commander-in-Chief of the Army and the Chief of the General Staff, D-day was now finally postponed to 31st August, in other words by five days; this was after both of them had reassured Hitler that our troop movements to date had not necessarily revealed our hand. Final orders were to be issued at five o’clock on the afternoon of 30th August at the latest, to guarantee transmission of the order to attack on the 31st. Before I left the Reich Chancellery, still on 25th August, hard on the heels of the Commander-in-Chief of the Army, I learned that Ambassador [Sir Nevile] Henderson had arrived for a talk with Hitler. At the time I did not learn what the outcome was.

  Although I was at the Reich Chancellery on each of the days that followed, I spoke with Hitler only three times, as he was in almost continuous conference. The first occasion was in the conservatory, I believe it was on the 29th, when he read out to me his ultimate demands, tabulated in a seven-point memorandum which he had probably just dictated. The most fundamental parts were:

  1. the return of Danzig to the Reich;

  2. an extra-territorial rail and motor road across the Corridor, giving access to east Prussia;

  3. the cession to Germany of those territories of the former German Reich with 75 per cent ethnic German population (I think that is how it ran); and

  4. under international supervision, a plebiscite in the Polish Corridor to decide upon its return to the Reich.

  He asked me what I thought of them and I replied: ‘I find them very moderate.’ He added that he intended to convey them to London as the final basis upon which he was prepared to negotiate with Poland.

  The second occasion was when I called on Hitler on 30th August. He said he had no time for me as he was just dictating a letter to Daladier in reply to a letter from him appealing to Hitler as an old soldier to do everything in his power to avoid war: I ought to have a look at Daladier’s letter some time, he said, as apart from the humanitarian considerations it was very much a portent of how they were thinking in France; they certainly had no intention of going to war over the Corridor.

  My third encounter with him was on the afternoon of the 30th, together with Brauchitsch and Halder (?). On this occasion D-day was postponed yet again, by twenty-four hours, to 1st September; in other words the army’s invasion, planned for the 31st, was again held up. Hitler explained that he was waiting for the arrival of a Polish government plenipotentiary from Warsaw, or at least for the granting to Lipski, the Polish Minister in Berlin, of governmental authority to conduct binding negotiations on his government’s behalf. He had, he said, to wait until then, but he added that on no account would he countenance a further postponement beyond 1st September, unless of course his ultimate demands had been accepted in Warsaw.

  I must say that we had all gained the impression by then that he no longer believed in that possibility himself, even though our hopes up to then of avoiding war had fastened largely upon the secret German-Soviet pact of 23rd August, by which in the event of a war with Poland, Stalin had agreed to the partition of Poland and hence to Russian military intervention, with a demarcation line being drawn between the German and Russian spheres of influence. We were sure that confronted with this possibility Poland would never let things go so far as war; and at that time we still firmly believed in Hitler’s desire to avoid war.

  In spite of all this, I had as a precaution (it was probably not until 23rd August, after Hitler’s address to his generals at the Berghof) telegraphed General Jodl in Vienna and ordered him to report to Berlin. According to his mobilisation papers he had been earmarked for the office of chief of the High Command (OKW) operations staff for the period from 1st October 1938 to 30th September 1939, so that in an emergency he would be on hand. Jodl reached Berlin on 26th or 27th August. Naturally he was completely in the dark and had first to be briefed by Colonel Warlimont and myself on the events during his year’s absence. As late as July or early August he had received confirmation in a letter from me that his request to take over command of the newly formed 2nd mountain division as its commanding officer on 1st October, 1939 at Reichenhall had been granted—a sure proof incidentally of how little I thought then that war might be around the corner.

  Jodl was first presented to the Führer by me in Hitler’s special train, in which we all accompanied him to the eastern front on the night of 2nd September.

  On 1st September, our army had launched its planned assault on the eastern front: as dawn broke, our air force had executed the first bombing attacks on railway junctions, troop-mobilisation centres and especially on airfields in Poland. There had been no formal declaration of war; against all our advice, Hitler had decided against it.

  During the day a number of brief military reports was passed to the Führer by the army and air force, but he was otherwise so preoccupied with the diplomatic steps being undertaken by the various interested ambassadors and emissaries, from the early hours of the morning until far into the night, that I hardly saw him and then only for a few minutes at a time. At the time I was ignorant of the far-reaching political manœuvres during this and the next few days. I heard about them only during Hitler’s Reichstag speech at the end of September, and learned of them in detail only here at Nuremberg.

  The War Office had already left Berlin on the night of 31st August to take up its headquarters on the eastern front.

  As far as the political interventions are known to me today, the attempts to reach an armistice and resolve the dispute by diplomatic means lasted until 3rd September, with Mussolini, Chamberlain, Daladier and the American President leaving no stone unturned during those first three September days to persuade Hitler to stifle this incipient world war at birth. They made no impression on Hitler. He left unanswered England’s Ultimatum issued at midday on the 1st and France’s of the same evening—to the effect that he should call off the attack even now after hostilities had commenced; in consequence, war had been declared by Britain and France in the West on 3rd September. But even at that late date, the intervention and mediatio
n attempted by Mussolini and Roosevelt could still have prevented any prolongation of the war, although I am not aware whether or what kind of guarantees or hopes they extended to Hitler of meeting his Polish demands, should hç accept the proposed cease-fire in Poland.

  The fact is that Hitler never let any of us soldiers know (either at the time or later) under what conditions he would still have felt able to call off the attack and prevent its escalation into a full-scale war involving the Western Powers as well. We were fobbed off with the assertion that the ultimatum and declaration of war by Britain and France [on 3rd September] had been unjustifiable meddling in our eastern affairs, which were issues for Germany and Poland to thrash out between themselves, and of no economic or like consequence for either Britain or France, as none of their European interests was being compromised in any way. We soldiers would see, he told us, how groundless were our fears for the western front: of course Britain had had to make some clear and unambiguous gesture in the spirit of her newly signed Treaty with Poland, but she was in no position to intervene with force either at sea or—and indeed far less—on land; and France was hardly likely to be dragged into a war for which she too was quite unprepared just because of Britain’s obligations to Poland. The whole thing was a rattling of sabres for the benefit of the rest of the world, certainly nothing worth taking too seriously. He had no intention of being taken in by methods such as these. That was the tenor of Hitler’s daily incantations both to the War Office and to us, during our journeys to the front.

  Despite our grave doubts, it did seem almost as though even now Hitler’s intuition was to prove right again, for the daily reports from the west brought only news of minor skirmishing with outlying French units in the zone between the Maginot Line and our West Wall; they were suffering bloody reverses at the hands of our weak defending garrisons. In no place had heavy fighting broken out.