by Matthew Cobb
In his memoirs, Bradley claimed that he decided to send US troops towards Paris because Leclerc’s progress was so slow. In fact, the order given the previous day had clearly stated that the Leclerc Division was to be accompanied on its advance on Paris by the 4th US Infantry Corps, the 102nd Cavalry Group and the shadowy ‘T-Force’ (Target Force): a group of Allied intelligence operatives whose aim was to secure any enemy information – military, political or security-related – that could help the Allies.87 After a successful ‘pilot’ during the liberation of Rome in June, T-Force was set up on 20 August, with Paris as its first objective. A group of 115 Allied intelligence and counter-intelligence operatives was hastily assembled in Le Mans, and they too joined the column on the road to Paris.88
In the middle of the night, as the men and women of the Leclerc Division were trying to snatch some sleep by their vehicles, Rolf Nordling and his group of spies managed to get through the German lines in the first phase of their mission from von Choltitz to de Gaulle. There had been a tricky moment when they were nearly arrested on the outskirts of Versailles, escaping only because Bender was able to negotiate with the local German commander. Having seen the group safely across the lines, Bender then returned to Paris.89 In the morning, Rolf Nordling and the four spies were taken by plane to see Patton, while Leclerc’s tanks were revving their engines.90 In his diary, General Patton described the arrival of the Rolf Nordling delegation in terms that contrast with his comradely (though unhelpful) attitude to Gallois thirty-six hours earlier: ‘The brother of the Swedish Consul in Paris, a man named Ralf [sic] Nordling, and a group of other French individuals from Paris were in camp with a proposition. I immediately thought that they might be asking for a surrender [on the part of Germany] . . . It turned out that these people simply wanted to get a suspension of hostilities in order to save Paris, and probably save some Germans. I sent them to Bradley.’91
There were probably two reasons for Patton’s dismissive attitude. Firstly, the group brought no new information beyond that provided by Gallois the previous day – indeed, they were repeating the stories of a massive German troop presence that the Allies now knew were untrue. More importantly, unlike Gallois, who simply called on the Allies to send their troops as soon as possible, the delegation wanted the Allies to declare Paris an ‘open city’, thereby precluding a battle for the capital.92 Nothing could have irritated the warrior Patton more. The mission was too late and its participants severely misjudged the outlook of the Allied leaders.
The sight of the Leclerc Division rumbling along the roads from Normandy impressed OSS agent Colonel Bruce, who described in his diary how he ‘passed miles of tanks, trucks etc. of the Second Armoured Division . . . these Frenchmen look extremely tough and fit’.93 At the same time, Colonel de Guillebon’s scouting group was heading back in the opposite direction from its bivouac at Arpajon, south of the capital. Because of a communications failure, de Guillebon had not received the news that the division was heading for Paris, and had dutifully followed orders and headed back to Rambouillet, where he arrived at about 09:00. As his group left Arpajon, they were taunted by passers-by who shouted: ‘Where are you going? Are you leaving us? What about Paris?’94 As soon as they arrived in Rambouillet, the group sent out two reconnaissance probes north-east towards Versailles, as they had been ordered. Colonel Bruce warned them that they could expect substantial opposition in that direction, and he was right. As one of the groups approached the outskirts of Versailles, a German tank shell hit the lead vehicle, an M8 Howitzer self-propelled gun named Le Sanglier (Wild Boar).95 Three of the five crew members were killed. One of the survivors, gunner André Perry, recalled what happened:
I fired three shells at the German tanks. There were three shocks and then a fourth one, which was extremely violent. As I opened my mouth to ask the young gun-loader what was happening, he collapsed on top of me. At the same time, everything burst into flames and my comrades began to moan or scream. We had been hit. At the time I felt no pain, but there was blood running down my face and into my mouth. Despite my shouts and my exhortations, the gun-loader did not move from the turret. I grabbed him and pushed him out towards our comrades, who were behind the vehicle. Then I dived back in to try and get the driver and the radio operator. Because of the flames and exploding ammunition, I couldn’t get to them. It felt like I was in hell; suffocating, and with my clothes on fire, I managed to get out. As I collapsed outside my eyes fell on a road sign that read: Paris, 36 km.96
General Leclerc arrived in Rambouillet at 13:00, and was immediately surrounded by a gaggle of American journalists. Colonel Bruce wrote in his diary: ‘The correspondents are furious with Leclerc because he will not tell them his plans. He, in turn, is angry with them and with reason, for they are looking for a story and he is trying to make plans to capture Paris.’97 In the late afternoon, General de Gaulle arrived in Rambouillet, having travelled from Le Mans, overtaking the Leclerc Division column as he went, acclaimed by the crowds of excited French men and women along the way. During a brief meeting, de Gaulle approved Leclerc’s plans for taking the capital, and closed with words that gave some hint of the turmoil of emotion and excitement that must have been churning beneath his notoriously glacial manner: ‘You are very lucky.’98
Leclerc’s plan involved two lines of attack – one from the west using troops based at Rambouillet, the other from the south. Among the groups chosen for the more southerly route was one commanded by a stocky 36-year-old, Captain Raymond Dronne, and which included young Gaston Eve. They managed to get as far as Limours before bivouacking as a massive thunderstorm broke over their heads.99 They did not care about the appalling weather: that night, Free French tanks were less than twenty-five kilometres from the capital.100
*
As night fell, Edmond Dubois reflected on the day’s events and ultimately gave his approval to the BBC’s strange claim that the city was already free:
In front of my windows, to the south-east, there is another extremely violent thunderstorm. The sound of cannon fire is drowned by this celestial racket. In the flashes of lightning, I can make out Paris, which has been proclaimed as liberated, huddled in its isolation and ignorance, fearing the worst, fighting on the barricades, without transport, light, or food, a Paris streaming with rain, a Paris turned in on itself, a Paris desperately waiting for the Allies. And yet, tonight, listening to the radio or reading the newspaper, the farmer in Texas, the Swiss mountain dweller, the fisherman in Madagascar, the shopkeeper in Saigon or the notary in Carpentras will feel their heart beating joyously as they whisper ‘Paris is liberated’.101
13
Thursday 24 August, Day: Battle
Matthew Halton, an embedded Canadian correspondent, broadcasts from the Paris suburbs: ‘Wherever we drive, in the areas west and south-west of the capital, people shout: “Look, they are going to Paris!” But then we run into pockets of resistance here or there and are forced to turn back. It’s clear that we are seeing the disintegration of the German Army – but we never know when we are going to be shot at. There are still some units of the German Army, fanatical men of the SS or armoured divisions, who are willing to fight to the last man. They are moving here and there all over this area, trying to coalesce into strong fighting forces . . . The people everywhere are tense with emotion. Their love of freedom is so very deep, and a nightmare is lifting from their lives; and history races down the roads towards Paris.’1
At 06:30, radio technician Pierre Schaeffer was woken by the sound of a familiar voice coming from the radio set. It was his colleague Bertrand d’Astorg on the early morning shift at the Resistance radio station. Without any experience in front of the microphone, and without a script, Bertrand was speaking to Paris as though to a friend: ‘The studio is asleep,’ murmured d’Astorg. ‘My colleagues are all in bed and I don’t really know what I am doing. Day is breaking. In the distance I can hear bursts of machine-gun fire. Fighting has already broken out again around some of the barrica
des. The studio smells of stale cigarette smoke . . .’2 Outside, it was raining heavily and the streets were wet. The gunfire d’Astorg could hear on the clammy early morning air turned out to be an isolated incident, as the bad weather seemed to dampen everyone’s spirits.3 A few hours later, Professor Victor Veau wrote in his diary: ‘It is raining. There is no one in the streets, there is no sound of firing.’4 At lunchtime, 18-year-old Jean-Claude Touche noted: ‘Rainy morning; up until 13:00, nothing to report.’5 Meanwhile, Yves Cazaux received a telephone call from his superior in the Resistance, ordering him to help set up a counter-intelligence service in Paris. With that he stopped writing his diary; being part of history was understandably more important than recording it.6
With no fighting to report on, journalist Claude Roy spent the morning at the Hôtel-Dieu, the hospital just opposite the Préfecture de Police. Medical students and stretcher-bearers were working around the clock to tend the wounded on both sides. At lunchtime, Georges Bidault made an official visit; after giving a brief speech to the medical staff and touring the wards full of injured French people, he then went into the German ward and spoke magnanimously to the wounded troops: ‘German soldiers! I am the leader of the French Resistance, and I have come to wish you a good recovery. Let us meet again in the future, once Europe and Germany have both been liberated.’7 Outside, one of Marc Boegner’s friends saw a young woman selling tricolour bouquets of flowers. ‘What’s going on?’ he asked. ‘Today we will become French once more,’ she replied.8
The tension returned as the day wore on and the rain eased. The German troops in the barracks on the place de la République made repeated forays towards the barricades in the 11th arrondissement and fired artillery rounds at Resistance forces on the rue du Faubourg du Temple and the boulevard Voltaire. The Faubourg du Temple barricade was briefly overrun by the Germans but the Resistance managed to regain the lost ground after fierce fighting with grenades and Molotov cocktails.9 At the square du Temple, a two-car German patrol shot at a group of résistants who fired back, killing an officer, wounding two soldiers and destroying one of the vehicles. Six soldiers fled the second car and took refuge in a building overlooking the square; for nearly three hours there was an intense firefight that lasted until a German armoured car came and rescued the soldiers.10
There were also violent confrontations in the southern part of the city. At 17:00, there was heavy fighting around the Cambronne Métro station, and a number of FFI fighters were killed, included 37-year-old Charles Mainini, shot while trying to help a wounded comrade.11 The 300 or so Germans holed up in the Senate were defended by twelve tanks, including four large Panzers – some of which were apparently used in a battle with the FFI around the rue de Grenelle. Swiss journalist Edmond Dubois reported: ‘From a doorway that is miraculously sheltering me from this battle, I can see the tanks in action around 100 metres away. The tremendous noise of shells being fired echoes around the narrow street where I am, while the blast fills the street and smacks into your face. It gives an amazing impression of force and power; there is the overwhelming smell of gunpowder. Despite all this, a housewife trots up and asks me if the corner shop is open.’12 A kilometre or so away there was a fierce firefight on the southern edge of the Jardin du Luxembourg. Earlier in the day, the Germans had destroyed their blockhouse in the neighbourhood. They were focusing all their resources on a handful of strong-points; they knew the decisive battle was about to begin.
Just down the road, Albert Grunberg saw the FFI take on two large tanks on the rue des Ecoles. His building shook as shells were fired. Despite being terrified, he decided to go and join the FFI. On his way to the local headquarters, he stopped to call in on some neighbours, only to find that the FFI were interrogating his friend, who had been denounced as a collaborator in an anonymous letter. Grunberg managed to convince the FFI to release his friend, partly by pointing out the deranged stupidity of the accusatory letter.13 Then the FFI turned their attention to Grunberg and asked him for his papers. He had none. Or rather, as he readily admitted, his papers were fake. ‘That’s all right,’ said the FFI leader breezily, ‘ours are fake, too.’ Grunberg and his friend were soon given FFI armbands, but not guns. There were not enough to go round.14
There was intense fighting in the northern quarters as the Germans tried to escape in convoys along the main roads heading eastwards, or sought vainly to flee from the Gare de l’Est or the Gare du Nord, where there were no trains. By the end of the afternoon, the FFI had taken control of the stations and had captured prisoners and heavy machine guns.15 In the 20th arrondissement, on the eastern edge of the city, 28-year-old Henri Louvigny was part of an FFI group harassing German troop lorries leaving the city. The Germans threw grenades at their attackers; Henri tried to throw one back, but it blew up in his hand and he was killed.16 On the other side of the city there was fighting in the well-to-do area near Victor Veau’s apartment, with the rattle of Resistance rifle fire alternating with the sound of German grenades and tank shells.17 The lack of coffins meant that funeral services had to be postponed, and temporary morgues were set up.18 First-aider Jean-Claude Touche was sent to one of these morgues, in a concert hall on the rue de la Boétie. It affected the young man deeply: ‘There were six bodies, each covered with a sheet, except one which has not yet been identified – it had no papers and was horribly disfigured. The head was split open so you could see the brains, and there was a big hole in the stomach.’19
At around the same time, three of the gendarmes who were held by the SS at Vincennes were freed in a prisoner exchange.20 The remaining men, together with another thirty or so prisoners, were eventually allowed to leave later in the evening, as the SS evacuated the fort.21
*
The rumours that the Allies were about to reach Paris were becoming increasingly precise and believable. Charles Lacretelle read in Combat that ‘an Allied column of about 30,000 men and 300 tanks has occupied Arpajon and is marching towards Paris.’22 Paul Tuffrau saw a duplicated poster on the window of the closed Métro station at Saint-Placide, near the Jardin du Luxembourg, which declared that the Leclerc Division was at Arpajon, together with two US divisions from New Orleans, who spoke French!23 FFI headquarters were equally confident, but then again their information was more accurate: they had sent out two scouts – one to the south, the other to the west. Both scouts talked to local Resistance fighters who had been in direct contact with Allied troops, confirming that the German forces were relatively sparse. FFI intelligence correctly concluded that ‘the divisions of General Leclerc are coming into Paris on the road from Orléans.’24 This was verified as the day went on, and in the late afternoon the FFI staff learnt that the Allies were advancing in an arc across the southern suburbs that passed through Antony, Fresnes, Orly and le Petit-Clamart.25
The Allied advance was not straightforward. In the morning, Gallois finally met up with General Leclerc near Longjumeau, which was now in Free French hands. The Germans were defending tenaciously and already two of the 2e DB’s tanks had been destroyed. Leclerc spoke tersely to Gallois: ‘Your information was wrong. We are encountering a well-organised defence.’ Gallois felt responsible, but the real issue was not so much the strength of the German troops as their location: many of the makeshift anti-tank weapons were in urban sites. These positions commanded the main approach roads to the capital; the surrounding civilian population made it impossible for the French to use artillery or aerial bombardment to eliminate the gun batteries.26 As a result, progress was slower than anyone expected, including General de Gaulle, who had sent a top-secret telegram to the government in Algiers announcing that he would be in Paris that evening.27
Leclerc deployed his men in three task forces. The main attack on the capital was to come from the south, under Colonel Billotte, protected on its eastern flank by the 4th US Infantry. Another group, commanded by Colonel de Langlade, was to approach from the south-west. The third task force was to distract the Germans and head for Versailles and then the
western part of the capital. Photographs of the 2e DB’s advance through Longjumeau that morning show a drizzly day, with groups of residents standing outside their doors or leaning from their windows while an eclectic group of tanks, half-tracks, jeeps and even amphibious vehicles drive down cobbled streets slick with rain, draped with sodden tricolour flags.28
In the morning, the new Paris Prefect of Police, Luizet, telephoned the Longjumeau gendarmerie and talked to one of Leclerc’s staff officers. Luizet urged the division to make haste, as the Préfecture was running out of ammunition.29 Chaban also got a message to Leclerc, via Lieutenant Petit-Leroy who managed to pass through the sparse enemy lines and get to Longjumeau. Petit-Leroy told Leclerc that Hitler had given the order to destroy the city, and described the situation of the Resistance as dire, emphasising how few weapons they had. He then claimed that ‘the Communist Party and its allies are determined to seize the initiative and set up a “Paris Commune” – a kind of revolutionary government.’30 How they were to do this with so few weapons was not explained. Unable to change the situation immediately, Leclerc dictated a letter to von Choltitz in which the German general was told he would be held personally responsible if Paris was destroyed. Petit-Leroy was to take the message back to Paris and ensure it was communicated to von Choltitz. But the message did not get through: on his return to the city, Petit-Leroy was killed by a German patrol.31
Despite the proximity of the Allies – in fact, precisely because liberation was apparently so close – the tensions between the Free French Delegation and the Resistance leadership became acute. The jostling for position could only continue for a matter of hours, and those hours might be decisive for the future of France. Far from Paris, General Koenig, the nominal head of the FFI and the newly appointed Military Governor of the capital, was well aware of the stakes, and tried to reassert Gaullist control over the police force ahead of the arrival of the Leclerc Division. At 10:55, Chaban received this message from Koenig: ‘Due to imminent arrival in Paris of Allied troops and members of Provisional Government, essential to put all police forces under direction of Prefect. Police elements fighting in ranks of FFI must be immediately put at disposition of Prefect. Will advise Prefect directly. In friendship. See you soon. Koenig.’32