Panzer Leader

by Heinz Guderian

  During the early days of February the situation, both on the Eastern and on the Western Fronts, deteriorated.

  In the East, despite all my plans for an immediate evacuation, Army Group Courland was still holding the northern tip of Courland with twenty infantry and two panzer divisions. These divisions consisted of good troops with considerable combat ability. Up to this time Hitler had only agreed to the withdrawal of four infantry divisions and one panzer division.

  Army Group North had by this time been forced back into the narrow strip of Samland, into Koenigsberg, and into the territory south of the East Prussian capital called Ermland. Like Army Group Courland, this army group, too, had to be supplied by sea or air. Its nineteen infantry and five panzer divisions had suffered very heavy casualties. The army group also contained remnants of further divisions.

  Army Group Vistula held a thin line running from the Vistula, between Graudenz and Elbing, through Deutsch-Krone to the Oder between Schwedt and Grünberg. It consisted of twenty-five infantry and eight panzer divisions.

  Army Group Centre held a sector adjoining that of Army Group Vistula in Silesia and reaching to the Carpathian Mountains. The Russians had already secured bridgeheads over the Oder at points both north and south of Breslau. The industrial area of Upper Silesia was lost to us. This army group consisted of some twenty infantry and some eight and a half panzer divisions.

  Finally Army Group South, between the Carpathians and the Drava, consisted of nineteen infantry and nine panzer divisions. It had the task, after the arrival of reinforcements from the West, of attacking on either side of Lake Balaton, with the objective of recapturing the right bank of the Danube. This would ensure the southern flank of the Eastern Front and would enable Germany to retain the Hungarian oilfields.

  In the West, since the failure of the Ardennes Offensive, the front had been pushed back to a line running along the Maas from Driel–the Waal–Arnhem-the Rhine–Cleves–the Maas again to Roermond–the Roer to Düren–theSchnee-Eifel–Our–Sauer–theMoselle fromPiesport to Remich-the Saar to Saarguemines–Bitche–Haguenau–the Upper Rhine.

  The SS divisions intended for the attack in Hungary were assembling in two rest areas, one around Bonn and Ahrweiler, the other centred on Wittlich and Traben–Trarbach; elements of certain divisions had not yet been withdrawn to these areas. All movement was very difficult and extremely slow. The enemy’s air superiority held up transport and discouraged the commanders.

  The Eastern Front now counted some one hundred and three weak infantry divisions and some thirty-two and a half equally weakened panzer and panzergrenadier divisions. Along the Western Front there were approximately sixty-five infantry and twelve panzer divisions, though of the latter four were being made ready for transfer to the East.

  In view of this general situation I decided once again to urge Hitler that he postpone the offensive in Hungary and that instead he attack the Russian spearhead which had reached the Oder at a point between Frankfurt and Küstrin; the flanks of this spearhead were still vulnerable if attacked from a line Glogau-Guben in the south and Pyritz–Arnswalde in the north. I hoped by such an action to give increased protection to the capital and interior of Germany and to win time for armistice negotiations with the Western Powers.

  The necessary preconditions for this operation were prompt evacuation of the Balkans, Italy, Norway, and particularly of Courland. In the early days of February, I visited the Japanese ambassador, Oshima, and then went on to see Hitler, to whom I explained my plan. He immediately turned down all my proposals concerning the evacuations mentioned above. I became more insistent and finally said to the stubborn man: ‘You must believe me when I say it is not just pigheadedness on my part that makes me keep on proposing the evacuation of Courland. I can see no other way left to us of accumulating reserves, and without reserves we cannot hope to defend the capital. I assure you I am acting solely in Germany’s interests.’ Trembling all down the left side of his body, he jumped to his feet at this and shouted: ‘How dare you speak to me like that? Don’t you think I’m fighting for Germany? My whole life has been one long struggle for Germany.’ And he proceeded to treat me to an outburst of unusual frenzy until Goering finally took me by the arm and led me into another room, where we soothed our nerves by drinking a cup of coffee together.

  I next saw Grand-Admiral Dönitz and asked him, or rather begged him, to give me his support in this matter of evacuations when next I should raise it. Enough shipping space was available if the decision to abandon the heavy equipment was taken. But that Hitler had refused to sanction.

  Hitler then summoned me back into the conference room, where I once again spoke up in favour of the evacuation of Courland. This caused a new outburst of rage on Hitler’s part. He stood in front of me shaking his fists, so that my good chief of staff, Thomale, felt constrained to seize me by the skirt of my uniform jacket and pull me backwards lest I be the victim of a physical assault.

  The result of this dramatic scene was not the withdrawal of the Courland troops to form a reserve, as I desired. My plan was abandoned save for a limited attack from the Arnswalde area with the object of defeating the Russians north of the Warthe, and of retaining Pomerania and our link with West Prussia. I had a hard struggle to ensure that even this limited operation was properly carried out. According to my calculations, which were supported by General Gehlen’s intelligence of the enemy, the Russians could increase their forces on the Oder by about four divisions per day. If our attack was therefore to make any sense at all it must be launched with lightning speed, before further Russian troops had arrived and before they became aware of our intentions. The deciding conference on this operation took place at the Chancellery on February 13th. Apart from those who usually attended these conferences, there were also present the National Leader of the SS, Himmler, in his capacity of commander of Army Group Vistula, the SS Colonel-General Sepp Dietrich, commander of the Sixth Panzer Army, and my principal assistant, General Wenck. I had decided that for the duration of the operation Wenck should be attached to Himmler’s headquarters and be in charge of the actual carrying out of the attack. I had also decided that it must be launched on February 15th, since if it were postponed beyond that date it would no longer be practicable. I was well aware that both Hitler and Himmler would oppose these decisions of mine, since they were both subconsciously frightened of undertaking an operation which must make plain Himmler’s incompetence. Himmler expressed his belief to Hitler that the attack should be postponed, since a small portion of the ammunition and fuel had not yet been unloaded and issued to the troops. I, arguing against this, produced my reasons as given above. Hitler immediately, and strongly, disagreed with me.

  I: ‘We can’t wait until the last can of petrol and the last shell have been issued. By that time the Russians will be too strong.’

  HITLER: ‘I don’t permit you to accuse me of wanting to wait.’

  I: ‘I’m not accusing you of anything. I'm simply saying that there’s no sense in waiting until the last lot of supplies have been issued and thus losing the favourable moment to attack.’

  HITLER: ‘I just told you that I don’t permit you to accuse me of wanting to wait.’

  I: ‘General Wenck must be attached to the National Leader’s Staff, since otherwise there can be no prospect of the attack succeeding.’

  HITLER: ‘The National Leader is man enough to carry out the attack on his own.’

  I: ‘The National Leader has neither the requisite experience nor a sufficiently competent staff to control the attack single-handed. The presence of General Wenck is therefore essential.’

  HITLER: ‘I don’t permit you to tell me that the National Leader is incapable of performing his duties.’

  I: ‘I must insist on the attachment of General Wenck to the army group staff so that he may ensure that the operations are competently carried out.’

  And so it went on for two hours. His fists raised, his cheeks flushed with rage, his whole body t
rembling, the man stood there in front of me, beside himself with fury and having lost all self-control. After each outburst of rage Hitler would stride up and down the carpet edge, then suddenly stop immediately before me and hurl his next accusation in my face. He was almost screaming, his eyes seemed about to pop out of his head and the veins stood out on his temples. I had made up my mind that I should let nothing destroy my equanimity and that I would simply repeat my essential demands over and over again. This I did with icy consistency.

  When Hitler turned his back on me and marched towards the fireplace, I glanced at Lenbach’s portrait of Bismarck that hung above the mantel. The eyes of that mighty statesman, the Iron Chancellor, seemed to be grimly watching the performance taking place beneath him. From that dimly lit end of the conference hall a glint of steel from his cuirassier’s helmet seemed to reach across to me, and his expression was of one who asks: ‘What are you doing with my country?’ And at my back 1 could almost feel the weight of Hindenburg’s gaze, whose bronze bust stood at the opposite side of the room. His eyes, too, seemed to ask a question: ‘What are you doing to Germany? What will become of my Prussians?’ It was a frightening hallucination, and yet it served to fortify my resolve. I remained cold and immovable. No outburst of Hitler’s remained unanswered. I wanted him to realise that 1 was in no way impressed by his ravings. He realised it.

  Suddenly Hitler stopped short in front of Himmler and said: ‘Well, Himmler, General Wenck will arrive at your headquarters tonight and will take charge of the attack.’ He walked over to Wenck and told him that he was to report to the army group staff forthwith. Then he sat down in his usual place, called me over to him and said: ‘Now please continue with the conference. The General Staff has won a battle this day.’ And as he said this he smiled his most charming smile. This was the last battle that I was to win, and it came too late. I had never before taken part in such a scene. I had never seen Hitler rave so violently.

  After this gloomy incident in the gigantic drama of our destruction was over I retired to the ante-room and seated myself at a small table. There Keitel found me and said: ‘How could you contradict the Führer that way? Didn’t you see how excited he was getting? What would happen if as the result of such a scene he were to have a stroke?’ But I remained equally cold in my manner towards Keitel, and simply replied: ‘A statesman must be prepared to be contradicted and to listen to the truth, for otherwise he is unworthy of the name.’ Other persons of Hitler’s entourage now took Keitel’s side in the discussion and I had a further hard passage before those anxious and timorous spirits were calmed. I then arranged for my assistants to issue the necessary orders for the attack by telephone. There was no time to be lost. At any moment the authority I had so hardly won might be taken from me by a reversal of the newly made decisions. Later, men who had been present at this scene were to tell me that during years at Supreme Headquarters they had never known Hitler to erupt so violently; this outburst had put all his other ones in the shade by comparison.

  On February 15th the Third Panzer Army, under Colonel-General Rauss, was ready to attack. Early on the 16th, under the personal supervision of General Wenck who knew exactly what my intentions were, the attack began. During the 16th and 17th good progress was made and we were already beginning to hope that it might succeed despite all our troubles and doubts and might win us the necessary time for taking further steps. But after Hitler’s evening briefing on the 17th, Wenck, seeing that his driver was tired, himself took the wheel of his car; he was over-exhausted, fell asleep, and drove into the parapet of a bridge on the Berlin–Stettin highway. He was badly hurt and had to go to hospital. With his departure the attack bogged down and could never regain its initial momentum. Wenck was incapacitated for several weeks. He was replaced by General Krebs, who had recently been relieved of his appointment as chief of staff to Model in order that he might be given a command at the front.

  I knew Krebs well from my old days with the Goslar Jaegers. He was a clever officer, with a good military education behind him, but he lacked experience as a commander since he had spent the whole war in various staff appointments. During his long career as a staff officer he had proved himself highly capable at staff work and had also shown a great talent for being adaptable and accommodating, qualities which hardly fitted him to stand up to a man like Hitler. Furthermore, he had been a close friend of General Burgdorf, the head of the Army Personnel Office, since the days when they had been at the War Academy together. Burgdorf soon drew Krebs into the inner circle at Supreme Headquarters, the circle that revolved about Bormann and Fegelein, and with them, too, Krebs soon struck up an intimate friendship. These personal relationships finally deprived him of his freedom of action and independence of thought in the grisly drama that was being played out in the Chancellery. So long as we worked together these influences were not apparent, since I usually represented the OKH personally. But after my dismissal they became evident.

  On the first occasion when he reported to Hitler, Krebs was awarded the Oak Leaves to the Knight’s Cross; this was an early indication of Burgdorf’s influence. A few days later Krebs and I went together to see Hitler. We arrived there ahead of time and the other officers were not yet present. Hitler therefore invited us into his small private study. He pointed to Graff’s portrait of Frederick the Great that hung above his desk and said: ‘When bad news threatens to crush my spirit I derive fresh courage from the contemplation of this picture. Look at those strong, blue eyes, that wide brow. What a head!’ We then discussed the great king’s qualities as a statesman and a military leader. Hitler admired him more than he did any other man and was only too eager to emulate him. Unfortunately his abilities did not correspond to his desires.

  At this time fell the seventieth birthday of the leader of the National Labour Service, Hierl. He was an outstanding man, an ex-officer, who had performed his duties in the Party with great conscientiousness and in a thoroughly upright and honourable manner. Hitler decorated Hierl with the German Order. He spent the evening of February 24th with Dr. Goebbels. I was also invited to partake of the simple meal. Since I was very fond of the leader of the National Labour Service, I accepted the invitation. After dinner, as was by now habitual, the air-raid warning sounded. We went down to the shelter where we found Frau Magda Goebbels and her well-brought up and pleasant children, whose acquaintance I now made. While we waited there for the raid to be over I could not help recalling the conversations I had had with Dr. Goebbels in 1943. Now here I was, in the midst of this little family, the happiness or destruction of which was bound up with Hitler’s fate. The thought that their days were numbered was saddening and I did not feel like talking. Dr. Goebbels’ presentiment which he had expressed to me two years before was to be exactly fulfilled in April. Poor woman, poor innocent children!

  At this period, too, the Head of the Hungarian State, Salaszy, paid us a visit. I was present when Hitler received him in the gloomy hall of the Chancellery, now stripped of all its decorations. The conversation was awkward. The new man did not give the impression of one from whom much might be expected. He seemed to have risen in the world almost against his will. We had no allies any more.

  The Allied air offensive had brought ever-increasing devastation to Germany during the last few months. The armament industry had suffered heavily. The destruction of the synthetic oil plants was a particularly severe blow, since our fuel supplies were mainly based on those installations. On January 13th the synthetic oil plant at Pölitz, near Stettin, was bombed. On the next day the oil installations at Magdeburg, Derben, Ehmen, and Brunswick were bombed, together with the Leuna works and the fuel plant at Mannheim, and on the 15th the benzol plants at Bochum and Recklinghausen. Also on the 14th the Heide oil plant in Schleswig-Holstein was destroyed. According to German figures this cost the Allies fifty-seven aircraft, but at the same time the Germans lost two hundred and thirty-six. The destruction of the greater part of our synthetic fuel industry meant that the German Command no
w had to make do with such supplies as came from the wells at Zistersdorf in Austria, and from around Lake Balaton in Hungary. This fact partially explains Hitler’s otherwise incomprehensible decision to send the mass of the forces freed in the West to Hungary; he wanted to keep control of the remaining oil wells and refineries which were of vital importance both to the armoured force and to the air force.

  On January 20th the Hungarians had signed an armistice with the Russians. One of the conditions of this document was that the Hungarians must make eight divisions available to the Russians for operations against Germany. In consequence the situation in that country was not only militarily but also politically extremely tense.

  By the end of January the two corps of Generals Nehring and von Saucken had fought their way back through Kalisz. On February 1st the Russians reached the Oder near Küstrin; they had already penetrated into an area west of Kulm and of Elbing. On February 2nd Thorn fell. On February 3rd the enemy by-passed Schneidemühl, which was being bravely defended, and entered Outer Pomerania. On February 5th the Kurische Nehrung, a long and narrow tongue of land between the Baltic and the Bay of Courland, was lost. There was fighting around Posen, Frankfurt on Oder, and Küstrin. In Pomerania the Russians pushed forward between Pyritz and Deutsch-Krone.