Eleven Days in August

by Matthew Cobb

  *

  Despite von Choltitz’s claim that the military situation was clearer outside Paris, this was not exactly true. Coordination of the German effort was becoming increasingly fragmented. Field Marshal Model’s Western Command lost all contact with the 44th Army Corps near Troyes, 180 km to the south-east of Paris. The 48th Infantry Division in the southern suburbs was similarly isolated.27 Telephone communication with Army Group B in Saint-Cloud collapsed, while links with Paris were ‘completely unreliable’.28 Everyone had to make do with radio messages (which, unknown to the Germans, could be read by the Allies), or telegrams which went via Belgium and took for ever.29

  To respond to the increasingly difficult situation in and around Paris, Model ordered the 1st Army to defend the capital, in conjunction with those elements of the 48th Infantry Division that could be contacted, while the 6th Parachute Division was instructed to liaise with von Choltitz.30 Von Choltitz had a poor opinion of the state of what remained of the 1st Army and was not impressed by Model’s generosity. He was even less impressed when Model simultaneously ordered the Paris command to release over a dozen Tiger tanks, substantially weakening the garrison.31 To combat the growing strength of the Allied bridgehead at Mantes to the west of Paris, Model ordered the redeployment of General von Aulock’s battle group, which was spread along a thin fifteen-kilometre line on the southern flank of the city.32 Although von Aulock successfully moved his headquarters to Saint-Cloud, the removal of the anti-aircraft guns turned out to be more complex than expected. They were due to be taken over the Seine at Saint-Germain-en-Laye, but a shortage of vehicles, along with ‘badly trained drivers, darkness, overcrowded and clogged roads’ meant that a large number of the guns could not be moved.33 So they remained where they were, pointing down roads that headed westwards. The enemy would be coming on land, not by air.

  As well as manoeuvring their forces, the Germans made a concerted attempt to repulse the Allied bridgehead west of Paris. Sustained artillery fire rained down on the US troops while the US 5th Armoured Division was attacked by dozens of German tanks.34 Throughout the day Luftwaffe planes attacked the bridgehead using rockets. The German fighter-bombers swarmed in bands of thirty to sixty aircraft and then attacked in smaller groups, defended by fighter planes. Although these tactics caused havoc on the ground, destroying several anti-aircraft batteries, the mission was a failure. None of the makeshift bridges was hit, while over a dozen German planes were downed by Allied anti-aircraft fire.35 Model ordered a night bombing raid, but all the Luftwaffe’s heavy bombers had been withdrawn to Belgium and the project was abandoned. There was little the Germans could do to stop the Allied armoured tide.

  Despite the situation becoming increasingly desperate, the Germans fought fierce rearguard actions to the south of Paris. In the middle of the forest of Fontainebleau, fifty kilometres from the capital, there was a vicious firefight between elements of the 5th US Infantry Division and the German Security Regiment. By the time the battle ended in the late afternoon, seventy-five Germans were dead and over 200 taken prisoner. The Americans continued to press eastwards towards the Seine snaking south of Paris. Supply problems were still a concern – the Third US Army reported that the overall supply situation remained ‘critical’ – although the capture of over forty tons of German medical equipment provided some relief.36

  When Major Quadt of the Parachute Division contacted von Choltitz, as instructed by Model, the German commander of Paris was frank in his assessment: ‘The situation in Paris is untenable. All authorities and officials have left the city. The outbreak of a rebellions-movement might take place at any time. Individual shootings are the daily order, individual vehicles are being attacked, looted and their crews taken prisoner. The forces on hand are by far too insufficient to defend the city. All that now matters is to get as much [materiel] and personnel out of Paris as possible, so that it will not fall into the hands of the enemy.’37

  This defeatist attitude began to permeate everything the Paris garrison did. Later in the day, von Choltitz ordered the combat groups in the city to have ‘an intelligent and reasonable attitude’ and to be ‘self-confident and disciplined’ with regard to the Parisians, who were no longer described as ‘terrorists’ but rather as ‘youth on the edge of insurrection or in an active state of insurrection, torn apart by a variety of intellectual and political orientations’. Von Choltitz hoped this approach would enable his men to ‘paralyse the enemy’ and help ‘re-establish normal life in Paris, which gives us the only possibility of preserving the routes into and through the city for our fighting troops.’38 In other words, von Choltitz – like Parodi – was trying to buy time. Not to hold the city for some permanent strategic value, and certainly not to preserve its beauty, but rather to enable the retreating German Army to get to safety. If the German garrison were to engage in full-scale urban warfare with the Resistance, the city would become a lethal trap. Tens of thousands of German troops would find themselves caught between the hammer of the Allied advance and the anvil of the Paris insurrection. Von Choltitz may also have been thinking about saving his own skin: he would undoubtedly prefer to put himself into the hands of the US Army rather than be at the mercy of the Parisians.

  FFI intelligence made a sober and accurate analysis of the situation of the German troops in the city, noting that the enemy had concentrated its forces around six centres – the Hôtel Meurice on the rue de Rivoli; the Hôtel Majestic near the Arc de Triomphe; the Ministry of Foreign Affairs on the quai d’Orsay; the parliament building; the Senate and the Jardin du Luxembourg; and the barracks on the place de la République. The FFI estimated that the Germans had around forty armoured vehicles in the immediate Paris region, while there were at most ten German divisions to the south (even this was an overestimate).39 Despite the repeated claims of Chaban and Parodi, this was very different from the situation in Warsaw, where the full might of the German Army was turned on an insurgent civilian population with devastating effect. Two factors help to explain this difference. Firstly, the Germans in and around Paris were weak and in disarray. The garrison lacked both arms and men, and the Allies had continually smashed the troops fighting on the Western Front. Furthermore, the command structures on the Western Front had been repeatedly shaken up and key personnel replaced, first after the 20 July plot, and then in a series of irrational orders from Hitler to replace officers he thought were defective or untrustworthy. Secondly, the Allies, unlike the Russians outside Warsaw, were advancing at a tremendous rate; this undermined German morale and left little time for clear plans to be developed in a perpetually changing situation. In Warsaw the Germans had a relatively free hand to attack the Resistance for some weeks before the Soviet Army eventually moved against the city. The situation in Paris was one in which the Germans were vulnerable and lacked confidence, while the Resistance had the support of the whole population and was soon to be reinforced by the Allies.

  *

  At 14:00, in a moment heavy with symbolism, Parodi chaired a meeting at the French prime minister’s official residence, the Hôtel Matignon, which had been seized the day before.40 In attendance were the secretary-generals, the Free French senior civil servants who had been appointed by Parodi to run each ministry and to prepare for the arrival of de Gaulle and his government. René Courtin, Secretary-General for the Economy, rode to Matignon on his bicycle, and was mightily impressed by the pomp and the power he found there: ‘policemen in smart uniforms, machine guns, big rooms, administrative personnel, huge ante-rooms, and a large garden that I had never seen before, with armed guards here, too’.41 Parodi’s decision to hold the meeting at Matignon formed part of the Free French strategy for demonstrating to the Allies that they were in power. The traditional sites of French government were occupied by the Free French, protected by the FFI, and the traditional tasks were being carried out, more or less. For example, despite the fighting outside the Mairie of the 17th arrondissement, a new father, highly irritated by what he called ‘all this
business’, barged his way through the barricades to fulfil his legal obligation to register the birth of his daughter.42 This attention to the everyday needs of the population underlined the legitimacy of the new power.

  Parodi began the meeting at Matignon by describing the swings of opinion over the cease-fire, culminating in the decision to recommence hostilities. Warning his colleagues – as ever – of ‘the danger that may be represented by the retreat of German troops to Paris’, Parodi ordered the civil servants to evacuate all the ministries to save their lives: their first duty was to protect themselves, he said.43 Courtin immediately objected – pointing out that they would lose all respect in the eyes of the résistants who had seized and were protecting the buildings,. Parodi was unmoved and ordered Courtin to leave his ministry. But Courtin was made of sterner stuff, as he wrote in his diary that night: ‘This order could not be carried out – after the spectacular events of Sunday and Monday, it would have looked like we were fleeing.’44 So Courtin and his team spent an uncomfortable night in their ministry, without any weapons. Outside, German tanks stationed themselves next to the building, but did not attack.45

  The Germans tolerated this situation for the simple reason that they could do little else. They did not have the men or the firepower to dislodge the representatives of the Provisional Government from the ministry buildings. This did not go unnoticed. In his diary that evening, Jean Guéhenno made an explicit link between the successful seizure of the traditional administrative buildings and the effective loss of control of the city by the Germans: ‘The ministries and the mairies have been occupied by the FFI. Vichy has disappeared like smoke. The Germans no longer control life in Paris. They hold only the points where they have dug in. There is fighting all around them.’46

  For many Parisians, the clearest sign of weakening German control was the sudden appearance of the Resistance press. The collaborationist newspapers had disappeared a few days earlier, and the Resistance had taken over the offices. Resistance journalists had then prepared their copy, loyally waiting for Parodi to give them permission to publish.47 A handful of Resistance newspaper titles, which had been produced in secrecy since the beginning of the occupation, had been authorised to appear publicly for the first time the previous evening – L’Humanité had been first on the street with an issue dated 21 August, which was published almost as soon as it was permitted. Other newspapers, like L’Aube, a Christian-Democrat paper that had once been edited by Georges Bidault and which ceased publication at the beginning of the occupation, waited until the morning of 22 August.48 All of these newspapers were printed as single broadsheets sold in the street for a trifling two francs. People crowded round to buy them, even though the news they contained was often out of date or incorrect.

  The press reflected the clashes that had taken place over the cease-fire, and the way they treated the story had an effect on the leadership of the insurrection. During the meeting in the Hôtel Matignon that afternoon, Parodi explained that an ‘unacceptable’ article about Nordling had appeared, for which he had to apologise to his ‘friend’.49 This was presumably a reference to an article in L’Humanité the previous day, which had denounced the activities of ‘a “neutral” consular agent who made himself the instrument of the enemy’ by negotiating the cease-fire.50 Other newspapers were more supportive of the Free French. Défense de la France, which had been published underground since 1941, followed Parodi’s line on the cease-fire, claiming it had been ‘asked for by the German authorities . . . in order to allow them to evacuate the capital’.51 Libération, which was linked to the Resistance organisation of the same name and had openly appeared for the first time the previous day, claimed erroneously that the Germans had recognised the Free French as the authorities in the city.52

  While civilians were overjoyed with the new media, and photographs were taken of FFI fighters reading newspapers while lounging against barricades, not everyone was so impressed. Copies of the papers were brought to the Hôtel de Ville, but as Léo Hamon wrote in his diary: ‘Later on, they will be called “historic” but there is no time to read them and we really have too much to do.’53 It was probably just as well that Hamon was so busy. Had he caught sight of L’Humanité, he might have burst a blood vessel. In its 22 August issue, the communist paper launched a furious attack on all those who, like Hamon, had supported the cease-fire. Below headlines that read ‘DEATH TO THE HUNS AND THE TRAITORS!’ and ‘DOWN WITH COWARDS AND MANOEUVRERS!’, L’Humanité made quite clear what the Communist Party thought of those in the Resistance who had engineered the cease-fire: ‘Any discussion with the Hun for any other reason than their capitulation without conditions can be nothing other than a betrayal. The Parisians will consider this call to stop fighting against the Hun as a manoeuvre by a desperate enemy.’54 Despite the agreement to start fighting again, the division in the Resistance caused by the cease-fire ran deep.

  *

  At 09:30, Rol’s envoy to the Allies, Captain Gallois, arrived at General Bradley’s headquarters in a small chateau on the outskirts of Laval, after having been driven around 250 km westwards through the night. Although Patton had promised that Gallois would see Leclerc, the French captain was first taken into a room where several of Bradley’s staff officers were sitting around a table, including Major-General Edwin Siebert, Bradley’s head of intelligence (‘G-2’). While the Americans were all wearing smart uniforms, Gallois’ civilian clothes were dirty and creased, and his face was unshaven and strained with fatigue.

  With all his remaining passion, Gallois described the situation in Paris and the demoralised state of the Germans, and emphasised the lack of any substantial enemy forces around the capital. He closed by pleading with the US officers to convince the Allied High Command to allow troops to liberate the French capital. Major-General Siebert asked Gallois a single question: ‘Do you give me your word as an officer that all this is true?’ When Gallois said it was, Siebert simply replied ‘Goodbye’, and that was that. Gallois was ushered out of the room, none the wiser about what would happen next.55

  Meanwhile, General Leclerc, bursting with impatience, had left Argentan for Laval to see Bradley and press his case that he should be allowed to move on Paris immediately. As Leclerc was about to board a small plane bound for Laval, he was handed an order from General Gerow, his immediate superior. Gerow was not happy. He had learnt of de Guillebon’s unauthorised probing mission and ordered Leclerc to withdraw his men immediately.56 Leclerc put the order into his pocket, unopened, and took off for Laval. When he got there, Bradley had already left to tell Eisenhower about Gallois’ information. The Americans, not the French, were making the decisions about the future of Paris.

  As Bradley strode into First Army headquarters to see Eisenhower, he announced he had ‘momentous news that demanded instantaneous action’.57 And indeed, the effect on Eisenhower was immediate. After their meeting, the Supreme Allied Commander wrote: ‘It looks now as if we’d be compelled to go into Paris. Bradley and his G-2 think we can and must walk in.’58 Eisenhower’s plan was ‘to take over from the Resistance Group, reinforce them, and act in such mobile reserve as . . . may be needed’.59 Bradley transmitted Eisenhower’s views in a memo to his officers, explaining that the Leclerc Division would be accompanied by some forces from the US V Corps:

  Paris was to be entered only in case the degree of the fighting was such as could be overcome by light forces. In other words, he doesn’t want a severe fight to take place in Paris at this time . . . It must be emphasised in advance that this advance into Paris must not be by means of heavy fighting because the original plan was to bypass Paris on both sides and pinch it out. We do not want any bombing or artillery fire on the city if it can possibly be avoided . . . V Corps will advance without delay on Paris on two routes * take over Paris from the FFI * seize the crossing over the Seine south of the city * establish a bridgehead south-east of Paris.60

  Rol’s gamble had paid off. The Allies were coming. But there were impor
tant conditions: first, Eisenhower insisted that they were not to enter Paris until after the cease-fire was due to expire.61 In other words, it was conceivable that the cease-fire would actually delay the liberation of the city. Furthermore, the Allies would enter the capital only if there was no hard fighting. If the Germans put up strong resistance, the Parisians would be left on their own. And if the Allies did arrive, their intention was clear – they would ‘take over Paris from the FFI’.

  Eventually, at 18:15, Bradley’s plane landed and Leclerc, who had been hanging about since midday when he had arrived and met Gallois, rushed to greet the American commander as he clambered out. Bradley said: ‘Ah, Leclerc! Good to see you. I was just about to give you the order to head for Paris.’62 After briefly introducing Gallois, Leclerc ran to his plane, shouting over his shoulder to Gallois that he would send instructions. In the meantime, Bradley had been whisked off in a staff car, so Gallois was left alone at the airfield. Shortly afterwards he was given a tent and a camp bed; exhausted but elated, he fell asleep, fully dressed, not awakening until the next morning.63 Leclerc, meanwhile, arrived at his headquarters at Fleuré, south-west of Argentan. He caught sight of his Chief of Operations, Captain Gribius, and called out: ‘Gribius! Head straight for Paris!’ (‘Gribius! Mouvement immédiat sur Paris!’)64 The capital was 200 km away.