Eleven Days in August

by Matthew Cobb

  Elsewhere in the Hôtel de Ville the leading civil servants from all the Vichy ministries met in the office of the Prefect of the Seine. The blinds were drawn to keep out the sun, and the windows were open in the vain hope that a breeze would enter. It was hard to hear what was being said, or even to stay awake. Much of the meeting dealt with the dull detail of the departure of Laval and Herriot the night before. Bouffet rejected the suggestion that he should personally contact the Allies or the Free French, saying that a new government would appear ‘out of the streets of Paris’. According to one participant, the meeting gave the impression ‘of a great desire for inaction and total passivity with regard to the events to come’.15

  There was also a third meeting to discuss the situation – this involved the secretary-generals of the shadow Free French administration, who were to take over the ministries in Paris. There it was announced that the Germans would leave the city by 21:00, and the Americans would be entering at midnight.16 When the news got back to Victor Veau, he was so overjoyed that he ordered his manservant to fetch some champagne, and asked for the flags to be brought out of the attic and draped over the building. Thankfully, his entourage managed to dissuade him, arguing that it would be premature.17 And indeed it was – the Allies still had their advanced headquarters in Le Mans and they had no intention of entering Paris in the coming days. The announcement was completely wrong. If the upper echelons of the Resistance were so out of touch with reality, it was hardly surprising that ordinary Parisians did not know what was going on.

  *

  The city seemed bizarrely empty of Germans. The German administrative offices were all closed; outside the deserted buildings, chalked signs directed visitors to the Chamber of Deputies, where the last remaining services were being centralised.18 For four years, the massive café terrace at the Hôtel de Paris on the boulevard de la Madeleine had been reserved for German troops; now it was half-closed, and the only soldiers to be seen there were a few drivers who had stopped their vehicles in front of the café for a quick drink.19 Although German lorries continued to pass through the capital, they were rarely in convoys, just disordered stragglers. Along the Champs-Elysées, tired, dust-covered soldiers marched disconsolately eastwards.20

  Faced with the growing realisation that the Germans had truly changed their attitude to the city – it was now used neither for pleasure nor for paper-pushing, but simply for military needs – the rumour mill started to spin out of control. Some said von Choltitz had decided to defend the city street by street, to the last man, while others, following Taittinger, whispered that Paris would be declared an ‘open city’.21 In fact, in a secret memo, the German High Command in the West stated that there was no question of Paris being declared an ‘open city’ – it could be defended quite adequately against both internal and external threats.22

  Rank-and-file German soldiers were not so optimistic. Private Walter Dreizner, aged thirty-six, spent the day working on an electrical installation in a command post near the Champs-Elysées. As Dreizner was finishing his job, General Kitzinger turned up in his smart car laden down with baggage, conversed briefly with an officer and then zoomed off. The officer, watching his commander disappear into the distance, said to no one in particular: ‘Whoever does not leave Paris tonight will never leave.’ Understandably uneasy, Dreizner wrote: ‘Paris seemed quiet, the light clothes of the Parisian women cycling still fluttered in the wind. The shops were still open, citizens were still peacefully chatting away in front of their houses. But on the other hand, what did this mean? It was no guarantee. Did this city’s history not provide the answer? Were calm and storm not constantly interchanging in this city? At any minute the storm could break, the city’s hate could become boundless, its action brutal. Paris is unpredictable.’23

  *

  Field Marshal Model, like his predecessor von Kluge, had taken up his post convinced that imposing strict discipline and organising a determined defence would reverse the German collapse. Model’s abrasive approach could be seen as soon as he took over, when he described those who had been on the Western Front – officers and men – as ‘cowards’ who had been fooled into thinking the Americans were superior.24 Again like von Kluge, it took Model about twenty-four hours to realise that he was wrong. Model’s intention had been to withdraw his men from the closing jaws of the Falaise pocket in an orderly fashion, pulling them back to a north–south line running from near Le Havre, keeping the Seine behind them. But continuous harrying by Allied fighter-bombers, and the complete lack of respite due to the absence of German air cover, meant that any attempt to withdraw would be met with destruction, while the same fate awaited those who stayed. Inevitably, the German troops within the tightening pocket became increasingly alarmed and demoralised as the prospect of encirclement became obvious, and casualties from artillery and air attacks grew by the hour.25 However, the combined American, Canadian and Polish forces at the open end of the pocket were still too sparse to be able either to push back the troops desperately trying to flee eastwards, or to resist a counter-attack from their rear by the bulk of the Germans forces.26 There was still a chance for the Germans to escape.

  Those sections of the German Army who had already got out of the pocket were still far from safety. The last intact bridge across the Seine downstream of Paris was at Saint-Germain-en-Laye. All the others had been destroyed by Allied bombers or by retreating Germans. Many troops crossed the river in makeshift ferries, but those in charge of heavy equipment had to find a permanent crossing.27 Massive queues built up at Saint-Germain-en-Laye, which worsened as rumours grew that the bridge was about to be destroyed, and whole convoys turned around and started heading for alternative passages – either upstream, to the south-east, or directly through Paris with its millions of hostile inhabitants.28

  In and around Paris, the overall situation of the German defences was growing perilous. The western Luftwaffe bases had been withdrawn, while troops in the south of the country who had been ordered north to reinforce the capital were now being diverted – even an armoured division only 100 km from Paris was ordered to change direction. After the war, Lieutenant-Colonel Albert Emmerich of the 1st German Army argued that at this point ‘the construction of a cohesive defensive front had become impossible.’29 Faced with the growing threat from the west, von Choltitz ordered General Aulock and his battle group to defend the approaches to the capital, while General Vierow was to remain in the rear in command of a defence line, in which he was to collect all the various straggling soldiers who had been separated from their units.30

  Von Choltitz’s decision was astute. Throughout the day the Allies had been making a series of probing operations in this area, sometimes with tragic consequences. For example, a US reconnaissance column composed of five vehicles arrived near Crespières, twenty-five kilometres west of Paris. The local FFI decided to send two of its men to help, but they were intercepted by SS troops, who were enraged following the destruction of some of their vehicles by the Americans. In vindictive fury, the Germans executed the two FFI fighters, along with five other local men who happened to be passing.31 The Americans, obeying instructions, withdrew from the area. Thirty-five kilometres due south, in the early afternoon, a dogfight took place over Rambouillet. Squat US P-47 Thunderbolts, flying to support a US ground operation, were attacked by over a dozen Messerschmitt fighters, and at least one US plane was destroyed. Below, a 200-strong US column consisting of around forty vehicles, including seven Sherman tanks, left Epernon and headed for Rambouillet, ten kilometres to the north-east. Although the Germans were able to repulse the Allied forces, it was obvious that much vaster forces would soon be on their way.32

  At Choisy-le-Roi the Germans put up posters requisitioning all able-bodied men to dig trenches; those who refused would be severely punished.33 At Thiais, six kilometres south of Paris, men were simply grabbed off the street and made to start digging trenches that would provide the Germans with an additional defence against an attack from the
south.34 At Versailles and Villacoublay, 88 mm anti-aircraft guns were redeployed to guard the southern approaches to Paris, their long barrels now pointing down the road towards where the Allied tanks would come.35 Twelve kilometres further south, at Montlhéry, a Panther tank stopped in a narrow road at the junction of the roads leading to Versailles and Orléans, at a potentially strategic point. But the tank was not there to defend the crossroads – it had broken down, right below the windows of a row of houses. After attracting the attention of the whole neighbourhood, the tank was attacked in the night by a group of résistants who captured one of the crew before his comrades managed to destroy their vehicle.36

  Denied armoured reinforcements by Model, von Choltitz was nevertheless able to strengthen his forces following a chance encounter. In the morning, several fifty-ton Tiger tanks arrived in Paris by rail and were taken under the command of General Bayerlein of the Panzer Lehr Division. Later in the day, Bayerlein bumped into von Choltitz on the Champs-Elysées, and when the commander of Paris complained that he did not have sufficient men or weapons to defend the city, Bayerlein seconded the tanks to duty in the capital, where they had an immediate effect.37 Early in the afternoon, the Germans had surprised everyone by announcing that there would be a curfew beginning at 21:00, and that anyone breaking it would be shot.38 Ten minutes after the curfew began, two of the new Tiger tanks rumbled up to the Hôtel de Ville and positioned themselves astride the two main east–west thoroughfares – the road running along the banks of the Seine, and the rue de Rivoli which leads down to place de la Concorde. Civil servant Yves Cazaux – who was also a member of a Resistance intelligence group – had been instructed to stay in the Hôtel de Ville for the duration to be ready when Parodi came to take control.39 Hearing a loud rumbling and clanking, Cazaux fearfully peered out of his office window, worried that street fighting was about to break out. The two behemoths manoeuvred, then clanked off into the twilight, having made exactly the impression that von Choltitz desired.40

  A few hours earlier, German plans had not gone so well. At around 18:00 a training session at Versailles for soldiers of the Sturm Paris battalion went horribly wrong. The men were being taught to use the new Panzerfaust recoilless anti-tank bazooka when an apparently accidental explosion pulverised a thirty-metre stretch of their two-storey barracks, killing 120 of them. A pall of black smoke rose up from the scene as shocked and terrified soldiers ran in all directions. Bodies were still being pulled from the rubble three days later.41

  As evening fell, a messenger from von Choltitz arrived at Model’s headquarters, carrying a clear plan for the defence of Paris. Satisfied that the capital was as well protected as it could be, Model ordered his staff to focus on the defence of the Western Front.42 The Allies were approaching: towards the end of the day, a US scouting force arrived in Mantes-la-Jolie, an important crossing-point over the Seine, sixty-five kilometres from Paris.43 In the absence of massive reinforcements, the Germans decided to evacuate Rambouillet during the night, and a new north-west/south-east defensive line was established only twenty-five kilometres from the capital, stretching from Crespières to Limours.44 The battle for Paris was growing closer and closer.

  *

  In Le Mans, Colonel Bruce of OSS talked to civilians who had fled the capital. They all told the same story – food and coal were running short, electricity and water supplies were nearly non-existent, while most of the Germans had left.45 The Allies needed precise information about the state of the Resistance, and the exact positions of the German troops, and that information came from the Resistance itself, which made a series of attempts to pass through the German lines. With the agreement of FFI intelligence, one of the leading Free French agents in Paris, ‘Marco’ (Captain Guy de Saint-Hilaire), left Paris on a bicycle, carrying reports stuffed into some hollowed-out loaves of bread.46 At first Marco was preceded by two young girls on bicycles acting as scouts, while behind him pedalled Lucien Le Goff, who had been sent into Paris by Colonel Bruce’s OSS group.47 Marco and Le Goff left the girls behind at Longjumeau, and after passing through the German lines at Etampes in the late afternoon, the two men eventually arrived in the small town of Auneau, halfway to Chartres. The place was in festive mood, as the Germans had left and an American scouting party had arrived, and wine was flowing freely at the local inn.48 Marco and Le Goff were given some bales of straw to sleep on, and the next morning they headed westwards.

  At the same time, Jean Sainteny of the Intelligence Service spy network ALLIANCE was making a habit of dodging through the lines. On 16 August he had managed to reach Le Mans with a precious cargo of documents. On the morning of 18 August, he telephoned Marie-Madeleine Fourcade, the head of ALLIANCE, and to her amazement told her he was back in Paris – US Army intelligence had asked him to return to the capital to find out more about German positions in the region. Fourcade and her comrades spent the day collecting the relevant information, and soon Sainteny was once again heading westwards, riding on the back of Bernard de Billy’s motorbike, the pair once again disguised as telephone engineers. After an eventful journey, which saw them escape from German custody, they arrived back in Le Mans later on that evening.49

  Things did not go so well for a third mission, led by Captain Trutié de Varreux (‘Brécy’), who was head of the FFI operations staff.50 Rol and his Chief of Staff, Roger Cocteau (‘Gallois’), had become convinced that the regional FFI needed direct contact with the Allied military command. Exchanges of intelligence were all very useful, but an open channel with the generals in charge had become essential. Brécy was therefore sent westwards, with his orders typed onto a piece of silk sown into the lining of his jacket. Carrying German papers, he travelled south in a butcher’s van, following more or less the same route as Marco and Le Goff. But east of Etampes, as the unmarked vehicle passed through the hamlet of Bonvilliers, it was attacked by a US fighter and everyone travelling in it was killed. The attempt to forge a direct link between the FFI and the Allies had ended in bloody failure, the victim of ‘friendly fire’.51

  *

  Realising that events were coming to a head, General de Gaulle left Algiers for France. Over the previous days there had been a minor diplomatic spat about whether de Gaulle should travel in his small twin-engine passenger plane, as he desired, or in a massive USAAF Flying Fortress, as the US government preferred.52 In the end, the giant US bomber followed the Free French aircraft, but the larger aircraft had a mechanical problem that forced both planes to land at Gibraltar.53 De Gaulle had to wait a while longer before returning home.

  *

  In the capital the telephones continued to function, but the Germans laid explosive charges in the main Paris telephone exchange on the rue des Archives, which were ready to be detonated.54 The dedicated telephone lines that ran along the railway lines did not work, however – it was no longer possible to contact stations to the east or the west of Paris, for the wires had been cut. A combination of sabotage, the rail strike and Allied bombing raids meant that vital food supplies were simply not getting through. Ivry station, a major transfer-point for supplies for the Paris region, received no food convoys at all. A trainload of potatoes from the north simply disappeared without trace.55 And the situation was not going to improve any time soon, as a joint meeting of the illegal railway workers’ trade unions decided to call an all-out strike in all areas where the Germans were still present.56

  Odette Lainville went to the Mairie of the 6th arrondissement and gloomily picked up her ration tickets for a cooked meal, which had been provided by the city council as part of a programme of communal kitchens that was to meet the growing food crisis.57 At lunchtime, Victor Veau munched his way morosely through the last of the eggs and carrots; there was now nothing left in the house except potatoes and some tins of sardines which he duly ate that evening. On the other hand, the departure of the Germans had led to some of the best white flour being released for the general population, and Veau and his Resistance guests were able to enjoy some fi
ne white bread.58

  Jacqueline Mesnil-Amar bumped into her husband’s cousin, who told her that André was no longer in Fresnes prison and had been transferred to Drancy. Minutes later she heard from her sister that the Germans had left Drancy the night before. The two young women burst into tears and embraced, and Jacqueline’s heart leapt with joy and hope. But it did not take long for her to learn the awful truth – André was not among the ex-prisoners who would be making their way home. Along with seven comrades from the Organisation Juive de Combat (Jewish Fighting Organisation), André had been put on the last train out of Drancy, which had left the previous day. On the telephone, Jacqueline talked to Nadine, one of her friends whose husband was also on the train. Jacqueline’s despair flowed onto the pages of her diary:

  Nadine is sure that the Red Cross will stop the train while it is still in France, or that the Resistance will stop it, or that the FFI, in liaison with our Resistance group, will sabotage the track. There will be a miracle operation to free our boys. Because on that train, somewhere in France, there are our loved ones so it must be stopped, no? Alas! What a joke! Now there will be no more trains charging through the night, through France towards Silesia, carrying a cage of human cargo. No more sealed trains travelling through the night. There’s just one train left, and you are on it!59