Before leaving the fortress whose capture had cost us so much blood, I accompanied my adjutant, Lieutenant-Colonel Braubach, to his last resting-place on September 21st. I deeply regretted the loss of this brave and capable colleague. The wound which he had received was not in itself mortal, but it had become septic, and this, working on an already weakened heart, had proved fatal.
On the evening of the 22nd of September we arrived at Zambrov. The 3rd Panzer Division had already set off for East Prussia, with the other divisions echeloned behind. The corps was now dissolved.
On the 23rd of September we occupied quarters in Gallingen, the beautiful estate of Count Botho-Wend zu Eulenburg. The count himself was on active service. We were therefore entertained by the countess and her pretty daughter, and we enjoyed several peaceful days’ rest, which did us all good after the excitements and exhaustion of the campaign.
My son Kurt had survived the battles in good condition. I had had no news of my elder son, Heinz; in fact during the whole campaign the troops never once received any field post from home. This was a considerable hardship. Now we all hoped for an early transfer to our home stations, so that we might get our units into good shape again as soon as possible.
We also hoped at that time that the speed of our Polish victory would bear political fruit, and that the Western Powers might now feel inclined to make a sensible peace. We imagined that if this were not the case, Hitler would quickly decide on a campaign in the West. Unfortunately both hopes were to prove groundless. We were entering the period which Churchill has described as the drôle de guerre.
I spent the leisure that was now granted me in visiting my East Prussian relatives, with whom I also found a nephew from West Prussia who had been compelled to join the Polish Army and who had now been released from captivity in order to serve his own nation.
On the 9th of October my corps staff was transferred to Berlin. On the way I stopped to see my relations in West Prussia once again; they had been through hard times, including the notorious Bromberg ‘Bloody Sunday.’ I also paid a short visit to my birthplace, Kulm, and found the houses in which my parents and my grandmother had lived. It was the last time I was ever to visit my first home.
Back in Berlin I soon had the great joy of seeing my elder son once again, who had been decorated with the Iron Cross, both First and Second Class. He had fought in the fierce battles for Warsaw.
I cannot end my story of the Polish campaign without mentioning my staff which, under its chief, Colonel Nehring, did such splendid work, and which by its intelligence and its first-class command technique contributed so immeasurably to the successes of my corps.
Between the Campaigns
On October 27th I was ordered to appear at the Chancellery. There I found myself to be one of the twenty-four officers who were to be decorated with the Knight’s Cross of the Iron Cross. It was very pleasant to receive this order so early, and it seemed to me to be primarily a vindication of my long struggle for the creation of the new armoured force. That force had undoubtedly been principally responsible for the speed with which the campaign was won and for the smallness of the casualties that we had sustained while winning it. During the luncheon which followed the investiture, I was seated at Hitler’s right and we had an animated conversation about the development of the armoured force and the experience we had gained during the campaign. Towards the end of the meal he asked me a direct question: ‘I should like to know how the people and the army reacted to the Russian pact.’ I could only reply that we soldiers had breathed a sigh of relief when we heard the news of its signature at the end of August. It had given us a feeling of security in our rear, and we were happy to think that we would be spared the two-front war of which we were frightened and which had proved our undoing in the long run during the previous World War. Hitler stared at me in amazement, and I felt that he was not pleased with my answer. However, he said nothing further on this matter, and indeed changed the subject. It was only much later that I realised how deep was Hitler’s hatred of Soviet Russia. He had doubtless expected me to express astonishment at his having ever agreed to sign a pact with Stalin.
A short leave which I spent at home was saddened by the death of my mother-in-law, who passed on in our Berlin house on the 4th of November. We accompanied her coffin to Goslar and laid her in her final resting-place beside my late father-in-law. Then new orders took me away from home once again.
In the middle of November my staff was transferred, first to Dusseldorf, and then, as a result of a sudden change of plan, to Koblenz. There I was subordinate to Colonel-General von Rundstedt, the Commander-in-Chief of Army Group A.
In order to strengthen the political attitude of the officer corps, and particularly of the general officers, a series of lectures was now organised in Berlin, to be given, among others, by Goebbels, Goering and finally, on the 23rd of November, by Hitler himself. The audiences consisted in the main of generals and admirals, but also included some instructors and supervisors from War Schools down to the rank of lieutenant.
In the speeches of the three persons mentioned above, an almost identical train of thought was apparent, as follows: ‘The Luftwaffe generals, under the purposeful leadership of party comrade Goering, are entirely reliable; the admirals can be trusted to follow the Hitlerite line; but the Party cannot place unconditional trust in the good faith of the army generals.’ In view of the success of the recently concluded campaign in Poland, this insinuation struck us all as incomprehensible. When I was back in Koblenz I went to see the Chief of Staff of the Army Group, General von Manstein, whom I knew well, and discussed with him what should be done about this. He agreed with me that the corps of generals could not simply ignore the allegations that had been made. He had already talked to his Commander-in-Chief on the subject, but had found the latter disinclined to take any steps. He urged me to see if I could persuade Rundstedt to do something. I went to see him at once. Colonel-General von Rundstedt already knew all about this business, but said he was not willing to go farther than to visit the Commander-in-Chief of the Army and to draw that officer’s attention to the allegations that had been made. I pointed out that as the allegations were directed primarily against the Commander-in-Chief of the Army and that as that officer had himself been present when they were made, the proper course to take was to approach Hitler from some other angle in order to urge on him the withdrawal of these unjustified accusations. General von Rundstedt was unwilling to take any further action in the matter. In the next few days I visited a number of senior generals in an attempt to urge them to do something, but in vain. The last one I saw was Colonel-General von Reichenau, whose good standing with both Hitler and the Party was well known. Reichenau informed me to my surprise that, on the contrary, his relations with Hitler were anything but good, that he had in fact had serious quarrels with him. Consequently there would be nothing to be gained by his going to see the Führer. He felt, however, that it was essential Hitler be informed of the sentiments of the corps of generals in this matter, and he suggested that I myself undertake this task. When I replied that I was among the most junior corps commanders, and therefore scarcely in a position to speak on behalf of so many of my superiors, he would not accept this argument and maintained that this very fact might be all to the good. He sent a signal to the Chancellery, requesting an interview for me, and the next day I received an order to report to Hitler in Berlin. During the conversation which resulted I made some remarkable discoveries.
Hitler received me alone and let me talk for some twenty minutes without interruption. I described the three speeches which I had heard in Berlin and the allegations that all these contained against the army generals, and then I went on to say: ‘I have since talked to a number of generals. They have all expressed their astonishment and indignation that so outspoken a distrust of themselves should exist among the leading personalities of the government, despite the fact that they have only recently proved their ability and risked their lives for German
y in the Polish campaign which they brought to a victorious conclusion in little more than three weeks. In view of the serious war against the Western Powers that lies ahead of us all, they believe it essential that so important a breach in the supreme leadership be closed. You will perhaps be surprised that I, one of the juniors among commanding generals, should be the one to approach you on this matter. I asked a number of my seniors to undertake this duty, but none was willing. However, you must not later be in a position to say: “I told the army generals that I did not trust them and they accepted my distrust. Not one protested.” That is why I have come to see you today, in order to protest against remarks that have been made which we feel to be both unfair and insulting. If there are individual generals—and it cannot be more than a question of individuals—whom you do not believe that you can trust, then you must dismiss them; the war that lies ahead will be a long one; we cannot afford such a breach in our military leadership, and mutual confidence must be restored before a critical situation arises comparable to the crisis of 1916 in the First World War prior to the appointment of Hindenburg and Ludendorff to the supreme command. On that occasion the solution was reached too late. Our highest leadership must be careful that it does not once again take the necessary measures too late.’
Hitler listened with great seriousness to all I had to say. When I had finished he replied brusquely: ‘It’s a question of the Commander-in-Chief of the Army.’ I then said: ‘If you feel you cannot trust the present Commander-in-Chief of the Army, then you must get rid of him and appoint a general in his place in whom you have complete confidence.’ Then came the question which I had dreaded: ‘Whom do you suggest?’ I had thought up a whole list of general officers, who, in my opinion, were capable of filling that difficult appointment. I mentioned, first, Colonel-General von Reichenau. Hitler refused this suggestion with the words: ‘Quite out of the question.’ His expression was unusually disagreeable as he said this, and I realised that Reichenau had in no way been exaggerating during our conversation at Dusseldorf when he described his relations with Hitler as bad. A whole series of further suggestions, starting with Colonel-General von Rundstedt, proved equally unacceptable. Finally, I had exhausted my list of names and I fell silent.
Now Hitler began to talk. He described in detail the background of his mistrust of the generals; he started with the trouble Fritsch and Beck had caused him when he began the rearmament of Germany. He had wanted the immediate formation of 36 divisions, but they had told him that he must be satisfied for the time being with 21. The generals had warned him against the re-occupation of the Rhineland; indeed they had all been ready, at the first sign of a frown from the French, to withdraw their troops at once and only the active intervention of the Foreign Minister had prevented this act of capitulation from taking place. Then Field-Marshal von Blomberg had proved a great disappointment to him, and the Fritsch incident had left a bitter taste in his mouth. Beck had opposed him during the Czech crisis and had therefore gone. The present Commander-in-Chief of the Army had made proposals on the subject of further re-armament that were totally insufficient; a crass example of this were the completely inadequate figures for the increase in light field howitzer production, figures that were frankly ridiculously small. Already in the Polish campaign differences of opinion had arisen between himself and his generals concerning the prosecution of the offensive; as for the pending operations in the West, he did not feel that his ideas were in accordance with those of the Commander-in-Chief of the Army on this subject either.
Hitler thanked me for my frankness—and our conversation was over without anything having been achieved. It had lasted about one hour. I returned to Koblenz, deeply depressed by the insight that I had gained.
5. THE CAMPAIGN IN THE WEST
Preparations for the Campaign
Before embarking on the campaign against the Western Powers—which we would gladly have avoided—we carefully evaluated the lessons learned in Poland. These proved that the Light Divisions were an anomalous mixture, a discovery which did not take me by surprise. It was therefore ordered that they be changed into panzer divisions, bearing the numbers 6 to 9. The motorised infantry divisions had turned out to be too large and unwieldy. They were made smaller by the removal of one of their infantry regiments. The very urgent business of re-equipping the tank regiments with Panzers III and IV only went forward slowly, partially owing to the limited production capacity of the industry, but also because of a tendency by the Army High Command to hoard the new tanks.
I was given command of a few panzer divisions and the Infantry Regiment Gross-Deutschland for training purposes. Apart from this I was mainly occupied with plans and appreciations for the future operations in the West.
The Army High Command, spurred on by Hitler to mount an offensive, was intending to use, once again, the so-called ‘Schlieffen Plan’ of 1914. It is true that this had the advantage of simplicity, though hardly the charm of novelty. Thoughts therefore soon turned to alternative solutions. One day in November Manstein asked me to come to see him and outlined his ideas on the subject to me; these involved a strong tank thrust through southern Belgium and Luxembourg towards Sedan, a break-through of the prolongation of the Maginot Line in that area and a consequent splitting in two of the whole French front. He asked me to examine this plan of his from the point of view of a tank man. After a lengthy study of maps and making use of my own memories of the terrain from the First World War, I was able to assure Manstein that the operation he had planned could in fact be carried out. The only condition I attached was that a sufficient number of armoured and motorised divisions must be employed, if possible all of them.
Manstein thereupon wrote a memorandum which, with the approval and signature of Colonel-General von Rundstedt, was sent to the Army High Command on the 4th of December, 1939. There it was by no means joyfully received. To start with, the High Command only wanted to use one or two panzer divisions for the attack through Arlon. I held such a force to be too weak and therefore pointless. Any subdivision of our already weak tank forces would have been the greatest mistake that we could make. But it was precisely this that the High Command was intent on doing. Manstein became insistent and by so doing aroused such animosity in the High Command that he was appointed commanding general of an Infantry Corps. He requested that he be at least given a Panzer Corps: his request was not granted. As a result our finest operational brain took the field as commander of a corps in the third wave of the attack, though it was largely thanks to his brilliant initiative that the operation was to be such an outstanding success. His successor with Colonel-General von Rundstedt was the more prosaic General von Sodenstern.
Meanwhile an aeroplane accident compelled our masters to abandon the Schlieffen Plan. A Luftwaffe officer-courier who, contrary to standing orders, was flying by night with important papers containing references to the proposed Schlieffen Plan operation, crossed the Belgian frontier and was compelled to make a forced landing on Belgian soil. It was not known whether he had succeeded in destroying his papers. In any case it had to be assumed that the Belgians, and probably also the French and British, knew all about our proposed operation.
Apart from this, when Manstein reported to Hitler on assuming command of his corps, he took the opportunity to express his views on the forthcoming operations. This resulted in the Manstein Plan now becoming the object of serious study: a war game that took place at Koblenz on the 7th of February, 1940, seemed to me decisive in its favour. During the course of this map exercise I proposed that on the fifth day of the campaign an attack be made with strong armoured and motorised forces to force a crossing of the Meuse near Sedan with the objective of achieving a break-through which would then be expanded towards Amiens. The Chief of the Army General Staff, Halder, who was present, pronounced these ideas ‘senseless.’ He envisaged tank forces reaching the Meuse and even securing bridgeheads across it, and then waiting for the infantry armies to catch up; after this a ‘unified attack’ would be
launched, which could not be mounted before the ninth or tenth day of the campaign. He called this ‘einen yangierten Gesamtangriff’ (‘a properly marshalled attack in mass’). I contradicted him strongly and repeated that the essential was that we use all the available limited offensive power of our armour in one surprise blow at one decisive point; to drive a wedge so deep and wide that we need not worry about our flanks; and then immediately to exploit any successes gained without bothering to wait for the infantry corps.
My opinions concerning the value of the French frontier fortifications were strengthened by the very detailed studies of Major von Stiotta, the engineer adviser at Army Group headquarters. Major von Stiotta’s conclusions were based principally on a microscopic evaluation of air photographs; his arguments were therefore not to be ignored.
On the 14th of February another war game took place at Mayen, the headquarters of Colonel-General List’s Twelfth Army; again Halder was present and once again the battle for the Meuse crossing was the subject under study. The main questions that were put to me boiled down to this: could the panzer divisions attempt to force a river crossing on their own, or should they not rather wait until the infantry had caught up with them: in the latter case, should they take part in the initial river crossing or should this be left to the infantry? This last solution was impossible in view of the difficult terrain in the Ardennes north of the Meuse. The whole tone grew more and more depressing until at last General von Wietersheim—whose motorised XIV Army Corps was supposed to follow behind mine—and I eventually declared that in these circumstances we could have no confidence in the leadership of the operation. We declared that the proposed employment of the armour was incorrect and that in the event of its commitment in this fashion a crisis must arise.
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