Nigel Cawthorne
Page 5
On 8 November 1942 the Americans, who had now joined the war, landed in Morocco and Algeria and began closing in on Rommel from the west. Then, in early December, the British First Army under Lieutenant General Anderson led an attack on Tunis, the last Axis stronghold in North Africa. It was repulsed, but as the British, Americans and French were preparing to have another go, Colonel Rudolf Lang was moving 10 Panzer Division from Marseilles to Naples, ready to be shipped across the Mediterranean.
As soon as the last transport train had been expedited on 4 December from Marseilles, which – contrary to the rural population – was not altogether friendly towards us, last but not least because of the occupation of Toulon, I proceeded through Nice, Genova, Florence and Rome to Naples, driving by automobile to save time. It rained almost all the time so that we could not enjoy the beauty of the countryside. Many anti-tank obstacles had already been erected along the roads which we travelled; everywhere lighted signs, posters and large inscriptions on houses and walls expressed the determination to attain a joint victory. Many places in the part of Italy we crossed were literally swarming with Italian soldiers, who appeared to be friendly, happy and ready to burst into song.
But Colonel Lang did not want to wait around in Naples while the tanks were loaded on to ships.
I wanted to take charge of my Panzergrenadier Regiment 69, known to have reached a high degree of perfection and training during the last months as part of an excellently equipped division … I started across on 14 December on a Ju 52, flying in an enormous fleet of aircraft of all kinds, including one giant aeroplane. We had a wonderful trip, flew at low altitude, encountered no enemy interference and reached the airfield of Tunis safe and sound …
I was terribly eager to see the place where the division had recently earned its laurels. Everywhere there were the marks left from the fighting, giving evidence of a hard German blow. Major General Fischer, who had led the combat near Tebourba and had thereupon been awarded an oak-leaf cluster to the Knight’s Cross and had been promoted Lieutenant General, met me on the combat field. The General showed pleasure in greeting me, briefed me on the situation and told me that I might expect to go into action soon.
While the hurried trip of the last few days had taken in localities and places of world-wide fame, such as Nice, Monte Carlo, San Remo, Florence, Rome, Pompeii and the top of Mount Vesuvius, while during my flight across the Mediterranean, Sicily had floated by below me, during the few days before my employment I had the opportunity and time calmly to enjoy Carthage’s rich collections from ancient times, and to become somewhat acquainted with the country and the people.
On 17 December, Lang was given a command to the southeast of Tunis.
A command post of the Kampfgruppe [combat group] was a well-taken-care-of farm, owned by a courteous Frenchman, who as an officer during World War I had been seriously wounded, and who, afterwards, like many others used the financial support granted by the French government to settle in Tunisia. In his home he had a small but choice collection of antique objects found or excavated, paintings including some very good ones and a well assorted library, indicating his artistic understanding and wealth. Even though it was cold because the windows were broken, one could be very comfortable there and do good work. Since the owner, staying with relatives nearby, was exposed to hostile actions by the Arabs, which at times took rather serious proportions, I granted his request to let him keep his hunting gun, together with some ammunition to defend himself in case of emergency; I also promised him protection.
Lang sized up the situation:
The enemy could not fail to notice that because of the considerable enlargement of the bridgehead as a consequence of the Tebourba battle, the German lines had been seriously thinned out there, as a matter of fact, had to be left entirely unoccupied for stretches kilometres in length … Later on barely enough forces were available. In the Lanserine mountain range in the west, there was not one single German soldier in an area of about 20km in length … Furthermore, the enemy had to be aware of the fact that the number of German units to be moved up from Italy was limited, and that transports carrying troops and all kinds of material were sunk by torpedoes, bombs and shells … Reconnaissance groups were sent, by day and by night, deep into no-man’s land and even into the enemy lines … Although Arabs, throughout favourably disposed towards us, had been promised tobacco, blankets and clothing, they, at first, brought in only little unusable results from their spying expeditions. However, they confirmed observations made by our own forces. Statements by prisoners who were brought in – French and British – were contradictory and of little use.
However, it became clear that an attack was coming soon – particularly when Allied air reconnaissance was stepped up on 21 December.
Following a brief expenditure of ammunition reminding us of the First World War, the attack started on 22 December. In that coverless, hilly terrain, which produces only some miserable and thorny bushes and afforded no chance whatsoever for digging in, the brave German soldier was mercilessly exposed to the hail of shells and rock fragments. The fireworks claimed their victims … After hours of enemy fire, the enemy infantry rose to an assault on the decimated defenders, but was unable to reach its immediate objectives. All day long and during the night, the battle fluctuated back and forth … General von Arnim, as commander of the Axis forces in Tunisia, took the opportunity to express Field Marshal Kesselring’s approval and, disregarding the proximity of the enemy, he decorated some of our valiant fighters in the most advanced line …
Again the fighting flared up. Fighting went on all night long. The enemy finally succeeded in gaining possession of the summit of the mountain and some hills towards the west. The situation had grown to be very serious … To get us out of this difficult situation I assembled a counterattack for Holy Night. The commander who knows his men is entitled to make a demand of this kind on them, even though they had suffered severe casualties, were tired from extensive fighting during wet and cold days and nights, and were, furthermore, in an extremely unfavourable situation … The enemy forces, fighting stubbornly and obstinately, were caught in the frontal fire as well as in that from the Panzers to their west flank and were forced to give up. The group making the main effort reached the enemy’s east flank unnoticed. The enemy was completely wiped out or taken prisoner in close combat. The Panzers continued their thrust, cut off all of the important enemy elements from the chance of escaping, and proceeded up to a point where a mine field made a stop imperative … This troop had not only inflicted considerable losses to a British regiment and to an elite regiment from London, but it had also proved its ability to make a stand in defensive action.
The troops received congratulations by radio from the high command at 0955 hours on Christmas day. Even the enemy grudgingly acknowledged defeat.
The British newspapers did by no means conceal the failure of this action at Christmas time to the public, but they attributed its cause to the stormy, cold and rainy weather conditions, and to the commanding position of the Germans. It was during the close combat fighting there that the British earned the respect of the German soldier.
Although the Axis forces in North Africa were on the back foot, there were other small victories to be recorded. The March issue of the Army newspaper Die Wehrmacht crowed:
Through the streets of Tunis rolls an American Sherman tank – bouncing along on its mobile tracks, its engine rumbling, with captured ammunition in its gun barrels, and on board, its crew – the German scout patrol that captured it in the hills of Sbeitla on the foggy morning of 22 February. Down it travels from the hills through the sea of olive groves, headed towards the seaport of Sfax. It’s a journey of some 210 miles, lasting four-and-a-half days, which testifies well to the overall march capacity of this steel colossus. The thing weighs about 31 metric tons. It was loaded onto a ship in the harbour while German fighter planes wheeled overhead in the clear sky of Africa, and not one enemy bomber dared intrude on this deadly zo
ne. Now, after many intermediate stops, this star of American armament has arrived at its destination, a proving ground near Berlin, in the hands of German arms experts who are testing its combat efficiency and durability. Preliminary investigation in Tunisia had already revealed that this rolling steel mine is not a bad product. It was captured by a German Panzer regiment.
But defeat was inevitable. On 7 March 1943, Rommel was recalled to Europe to prepare the Atlantic defences against the Allied landings the Germans knew would come, and on 6 May the remaining Axis forces in North Africa were overrun.
AFTER STALINGRAD
Things were little better on the Russian front. In June 1942 Herbert Winckelmann had been with General Friedrich Paulus’s 6th Army as it prepared to advance, fatefully, on Stalingrad, but he had fallen ill with trench fever and had been sent back to hospital in Germany. On 30 January 1943, Paulus surrendered at Stalingrad, so Winckelmann was not sent to rejoin his unit. What remained of the 6th Army mustered at Savenay in the Loire Valley and celebrated their survival with ‘good red wine’. While his regiment was being reconstituted, Winckelmann was offered a command and a commission, but refused.
To become a commissioned officer one had to swear allegiance to Hitler, which I was not inclined to do. I have never regretted this.
Rebuilding the regiment took five months.
We filled our leisure time with sight-seeing. One of the more relaxing trips was one taken to LeBaule … Now all this was boarded up and the seawall was spotted with bunkers and other obstacles to hinder the possible landing of the Allies. At any rate, the miles of beaches, although now deserted, were beautiful and it was peaceful to lie in the sand and forget the ugliness of war … I had longed to visit Paris before the war but had to postpone it several times because it was too expensive. However, now with the devalued franc I could patronize the most luxurious hotels and restaurants with their exquisite cuisines.
The first thing Winckelmann did in Paris was catch up with his old school friend Goetz Bannay, whom he had not seen for four years. Bannay was now a staff officer in Field Marshal Kesselring’s headquarters there. He had lost a brother on the Russian front, who had written in his last postcard, ‘Just today I saw through my binoculars the towers of the Kremlin.’
The following days were filled with sight-seeing. Although we were on our feet from morning till night, we were only able to see the highlights of Paris. We strolled along the wide avenue of the Champs-Élysées from the Arc de Triomphe to the Place de la Concorde. Here and there we stopped for some window-shopping. It was too bad that we did not have more money on us as these stores offered goods that were already scarce in Germany. When our feet were tired we rested them in one of the many sidewalk cafés and watched passers-by while enjoying a café au lait with some delicious petits fours. Paris was still bustling as though the war did not exist. It was regrettable that the Louvre was closed … There was a special order in effect that groups could not split up at night. Being an opera fan, I would have loved to have seen a performance there, but I was overruled by my comrades and instead we visited the nightclub Folies Bergère. Although they were practically naked, the performance was artistic and not vulgar. A woman’s body does not exist for man’s lust alone … On the last morning in Paris we went to Montmartre where the artists lived, viewed some of their exhibits, had lunch at one of the bohemian restaurants … It was like a vacation except that our spouses could not be with us.
Back on the coast in LeBaule, there was serious business afoot:
We occasionally had to hunt down spies who worked amongst us like moles, mostly at night, except for one who made a daring daytime appearance and almost succeeded … One day while my friend Achim Peglau was on duty, an officer unknown to him but in a very snappy staff-officer’s uniform demanded, in a very commanding tone, to know the location of certain of our units. Achim who was only a private was intimidated by his forceful manner and went on to show the locations on a map. While opening his overcoat to put a copy of the locations in his jacket pocket, Achim noticed that he wore the Iron Cross on his right-hand side. Before Achim could apprehend him, he reached his motorcycle and sped off. Achim called headquarters who put up road blocks and intercepted the spy.
TYPHUS, BEDBUGS AND RATS
Without the 6th Army the Germans in the east were in disarray. In February 1943, General Walter von Unruh took over as commandant of Roslavl, a city in the oblast of Smolensk.
The town held 20,000 civilians, 20,000 rear-echelon troops and 10,000 Soviet PWs. Among the latter a typhus epidemic had broken out … All billets were overcrowded, including the unheated church. Field hospitals were crowded to capacity and could not receive additional patients. Evacuation of the wounded had come to an almost complete standstill. The hospital basements were full of corpses that could not be buried because the ground was frozen solid. Almost all the town’s people lived off our soldiers, who were billeted in their houses. In the beginning of February, Christmas packages for the soldiers at the front lay solidly frozen in front of the post office because there was no room inside. It was a sad and disagreeable situation. I added to the worries of the officers by telling them that a ground and air attack on Roslavl could not be ruled out … I lived in modest quarters, where I was well acquainted with bedbugs and rats … Since the few guards and sentries were always posted in the same place, the partisans who passed at night called them by names. This was proof of how well informed the partisans were, and I had the feeling that they were playing cat-and-mouse with us.
SECRET ORDERS
By July 1943 Herbert Winckelmann’s division was ready for active service and soon to be transferred.
The first ones to know this were the ‘market wives of Savenay’.
I had gone into town on Wednesday with the intention of buying some fruit and vegetables to supplement our monotonous food. Thankfully I heeded the market wife’s advice – ‘buy today, next week you will be on your way to Russia’. I proceeded to buy some lingerie and also some hand-knitted items that France was famous for and a cute outfit for our soon-to-be-born baby.
Soon after, ‘secret orders’ came telling the division to ship out for an unknown destination: not Russia, however, but Acqui, a spa town in the hills above Genoa. Winckelmann enjoyed the trip.
We reached the sea just east of Toulon in about two days. To enjoy the beautiful Côte d’Azure in this gorgeous weather I transferred from my passenger compartment to the more open freight car. We rode passed Cannes and Nice and even stopped for an engine change in Monte Carlo. To kill some time, I walked up to the famous casino, but being in uniform, was denied entrance.
Soon there were unpleasant duties to attend to. On 10 July 1943, the Allies landed on Sicily and on 25 July Mussolini fell from power and was arrested. The Allies crossed the Strait of Messina on 3 September and, on 8 September, the Italians capitulated, announcing their intention to change sides.
When the Italian government surrendered to the Allies, we were in a very unpleasant situation. Yesterday the Italians had been our allies, but today we were ordered to disarm them. Fortunately most of their units were war-weary, surrendered peacefully, and went home.
But, for Winckelmann, there were compensations.
The three months in Acqui, up to this disaster, has been even better than my stay in Savenay. My mornings were filled with paper work, but the afternoons were spent enjoying the spa’s beautiful swimming pool or the nearby vineyards where the grape harvest was in full swing. How delicious these sweet red Italian grapes were and their many varieties of wine. Unfortunately sightseeing was out of the question as Milan, Florence, Venice, etc were outside our divisional sector.
On 30 September 1943 a telegram arrived at Acqui telling Herbert Winckelmann that he had become the father of a baby daughter, named Ulricke. He celebrated with a bottle of red wine. The birth did not entitle him to leave, but furlough was granted when his home in Berlin was bombed, and he set off to inspect the damage.
I f
ound the house in better condition than I had anticipated. The house across the street had been destroyed and the vacuum from the exploding bomb had left the front wall of our house bulging. The remaining walls, though cracked, were still standing. To my surprise, the electricity as well as the plumbing were still working and most of the furniture was unharmed. I therefore decided to spend the night in my house. I was extremely tired from my long trip and fell into a deep sleep. So much so that I did not even hear the air-raid sirens and did not wake until a window shattered about two o’clock in the morning. I jumped from my bed to witness the horror of an air raid over Berlin … It was clear to me that our furniture had to be moved out of Berlin for safekeeping. This was easier said than done, especially to convince the bureaucratic channels to give the necessary permissions, not only to move the furniture but to move it out of Berlin. This was a logical move, but the bigoted Nazis still maintained that Berlin was a safe town.
Having anticipated some difficulties and the need to grease some gears, I armed myself with some Italian and French cigarettes. They were black looking and awful tasting, but we soldiers at the front had them in abundance, while cigarettes at home were scarce. With great luck I found a moving company that was eager to get one of its trucks out of Berlin and with the cigarettes I was soon provided with the necessary papers to get my furniture on its way. Within a week the furniture was in Dresden … I had presumed Dresden to be safe as it had been declared a hospital town … I spent the remaining days of my furlough with Elinor and our newborn princess in Kaufeuren.