Caught between the political squabbles of the wide spectrum of political forces represented in the movement and the caution continuously displayed by the older generals among the conspirators, Stauffenberg's determination brought a new energy to the floundering movement. The older generals qualms were brushed aside. The Soldier's oath, he declared, 'is no longer binding, Adolf Hitler broke it first.' The focus of this energy was the Valkyre plan born of his position as Chief of Staff of the Army General Office. Valkyre, which he had worked out with the head of the Army General Office, General Olbricht, went beyond the simple assassination attempts previously conceived. Officially designed as a plan to contain a rebellion of the millions of foreign forced and slave workers now working in the Reich's factories, Valkyre called for the use of the troops under the command of the Home Army to deploy to strategic points across the Reich but mainly in Berlin in order to prevent any counteraction by SS or Party forces.
But it was not merely Stauffenberg's role in revitalizing the Valkyre planning that made him a leader in the resistance. By July 1944 he was also the only determined assassin with regular access to Hitler. As newly-appointed Chief of Staff of the Replacement (Home) Army, he was responsible for organizing the new divisions desperately needed to make up the ever-mounting losses at the front.
On July 7th, the day after the Allied invasion, he had met Hitler close up on the Berghof, the Führer's alpine retreat. He had come away with a sense of Hitler as a man interacting with his surroundings as if through hazy screens, moving situation maps across the table with a hand too shaky not to attract attention. Stauffenberg had carried the briefcase containing the bombs with him on that day but as neither Göring nor Himmler had been present, he had not used it. The same thing had happened on July 11th. Then Hitler had returned to the 'Wolf's Lair' in East Prussia and Stauffenberg had next seen him there on the 15th. Once again Himmler's absence and the lack of an opportunity to arm the bombs made the young Colonel desist. The failure of the attempt on the 15th had nearly been the end of their efforts as some overeager conspirators back in Berlin had made the first planned moves that were supposed to follow Hitler's death. They had had a lot of explaining to do the day after but gratefully no-one had suspected anything. A major problem had however arisen when the Gestapo had arrested one of the key civilian leaders of the conspiracy, the Social Democrat Julius Leber, on July 18. The conspirators knew that under Gestapo attention even a dedicated man like Leber would not be able to hold out longer than forty-eight hours. Their time was up. Tomorrow, Stauffenberg had decided, nothing would deter him from his course.
The simple cross against the darkened red brick wall of the Stieglitz church seemed to move as the shadows of candlelight flickered across it. Stauffenberg’s lips hardly moved as he knelt before the symbol of all Christianity. 'You have offered us this opportunity Lord, and I would not refuse it for anything in the world. I have searched my conscience. Before you and before myself, I know I must act. Even if it is a sin to kill. This man is evil incarnate. I must free my people from his evil grip, or die trying. Judge me and not my people.' A brief pause. Stauffenberg cast his eyes downward before raising his face again to the altar before he whispered. ' Lord, into your hands I give myself and ask your protection for my wife and children. Whatever happens tomorrow, please let them live.' His shoulders slumped, his body swayed before he caught himself. A last deep breath, and he stood. Raising himself to his full height Stauffenberg stared at the wooden image of Jesus on the cross. After a few moments of silent contemplation, he turned abruptly on his heels and headed back to the car and the waiting drivers. That night the bombers did not come for Berlin.
Outside of Germany they do not comprehend the difficulties under which we have to operate and which result in a completely different situation when compared to all other occupied territories: … In the countries oppressed by Hitler even the common criminal can hope to be viewed as a martyr. In our case that is different, even the martyr can be sure to be regarded as a common criminal.
Helmuth von Molkte in a letter to Lionel Curtis
March 25th 1943
July 20 Hitler’s Headquarters 'Wolfsschanze'
Rastenburg, Eastern Prussia.
Stauffenberg saluted as the SS sentry handed his pass back to his aide and waived him and his companions through the barrier that marked the entrance to the outer security zone of the 'Wolfschanze' – the 'Wolf's Lair', Hitler's headquarters at Rastenburg in eastern Prussia. Fifty kilometres east of the old Teutonic Knights capital of Königsberg, the 'Wolfschanze', lay in a brooding, primeval landscape. Low-lying marshes, swamps and forests covered the land where centuries of military history had strewn corpses by the thousands. Here, in 1410 the Teutonic Knights, then at the apex of their power had fought the Battle of Tannenberg against a combined Polish and Lithuanian host. It had been the Slavs who had carried the day, crushing the Knights military power irrevocably. In the opening phase of First World War the same area had seen German armies under generals Hindenburg and Ludendorff outfight, encircle and capture the cream of the Czar's Imperial Russian Army. Hindenburg and Ludendorff had christened their victory 'Tannenberg' to ensure that their triumph, rather than the Knight’s disaster of 1410, would be permanently associated with the name. Irrespective of the history, the flat land around the Masurian Lakes and Rastenburg remained a dark, bleak and forbidding place. And now in late July 1944, the advancing Red Army stood 180 kilometres away.[13]
Hitler's headquarters compound consisted of a gloomy camp of huts and shallow underground bunkers scattered about the depth of the sombre forest. Having passed the barbed wire checkpoint of the outer perimeter they headed along a straight narrow road into the heart of the complex. To the right of the road and running parallel to it ran the rail line reserved for the use of the Nazi leaders personal trains. At irregular intervals, signs indicated that the forest was mined. As the car moved on the young Colonel felt the brooding atmosphere and clamminess that the oppressive isolation gave the compound. On each and every one of his previous visits Stauffenberg had been convinced that a sense of death and decay lent that clamminess an extra sinister dimension. Unbeknown to him beyond the wooded low hills to the south and east in occupied Poland, smoke had risen from the chimneys of the ovens of Treblinka, and not too much further south at Sobibor and Maidanek concentration camps. Even without the approaching front, death was in the air. [14]
The temperature, at 10:30 am, was now in the upper eighties, the air thick with mouldy humidity that seemed to sit broodingly among the ancient forest trees. Stauffenberg, like his aide, Leutnant Werner von Haeften, and the other occupant of the car, hunchbacked Major-General Stieff, another conspirator, was sweating profusely. This very discomfort would work in his favour today. The Colonel's briefcase contained little out of the ordinary except a specialised set of pliers. It was von Haeften whose briefcase contained two explosive devices disguised as bottles. Stauffenberg's specialised pliers could be used to arm the explosives in those bottles.[15]
The Volkswagen Kübelwagen pulled out up at the second barbed wire barrier. Security was stricter here, the SS guards more menacing, but they passed without incident. They were expected. Inside the inner perimeter most of the buildings were prefabricated single-storey fibreboard. Although the undergrowth had been cleared, the major trees had been left standing for aerial camouflage. Stauffenberg inwardly shock his head. Without the trees the complex would had looked like a badly built barracks.
Outside of the block that housed Army headquarters the car came to a stop and Stieff and von Haeften got out. Cold-blooded the young lieutenant picked up the brown leather briefcase with the two bombs and carried it in the concrete hut to attend to a general briefing session. Stieff tossed Stauffenberg a casual salute. The hunchback officer's assignment was in the Signals Office. In case anything happened to Stauffenberg, it would be Stieff who would phone the War Ministry in Berlin to inform them of the death of the Führer or the failure of the attempt. He would
then back up another conspirator, General Fellgiebel, Chief of Wehrmacht Communications in his efforts to block all signal circuits from the Wolf's Lair to Berlin. Their pretext would be the need for radio silence until the full extent of the conspiracy was known. As the car moved on Stauffenberg watched them go. Twice before they had come this far only to be thwarted by circumstances. Today would be different; von Stauffenberg could feel it.
At a table laid in the shade of an ancient oak tree Stauffenberg sat down for a healthy breakfast. In Werner's absence, an orderly smeared jam on the bread rolls and poured the coffee. There were some things that you just could not do well when you only had three fingers left, no matter how determined. Having to concentrate on keeping the coffee cups and the bread rolls steady on their way to his mouth kept his mind from wandering.
Eleven o'clock. Stauffenberg went to see Chief of the Army Staff, General Buhle to report on the transfer of a special group of reservists to the newly formed replacement divisions. Formalities over, the heavy-set Buhle joined him in a conference with Field Marshal Wilhelm Keitel. As Chief of the General Staff the tall aristocratic Keitel was the principal gatekeeper for his master, the Führer. He would escort the Colonel to the briefing room when it was time.
Though physically an imposing individual, Keitel's abject servility to Hitler had long since made him the joke of the Führer's entourage. Even relative newcomers to the Führerhauptquartier, like Stauffenberg could calmly refer to him behind his back as 'Lakeitel', a play on the German word 'Lakei', meaning lackey or toady, and with effeminate connotations as well. But Hitler relied on this servile giant, whom he had made Field Marshal in 1940, more than anyone else to organize his schedule and vet any outside news of the war. Only the sinister Party Secretary Martin Bormann enjoyed similar power over who got to see Adolf Hitler.
Even under normal conditions Stauffenberg would have found the presentation to Keitel a trying experience. With an air of great self-importance the 'desk-marshal' listened to his report on the establishment of replacement divisions. The recent losses on the Eastern front had been staggering and the Führer was eager for any news about means of plugging the ever-widening holes in the Wehrmacht's ranks. There was only one interruption, when Hitler's manservant, Linge, called to remind Keitel of the revised schedule which called for him and von Stauffenberg to come at 12:30. 'A Field Marshal happily reduced to the role of private secretary' inwardly Stauffenberg cringed. 'Not to worry it will soon be over. Keitel had got to where he was by assiduous toadying to Hitler. For a desk-jockey like him field officers were anathema for they represented everything he was not. Stauffenberg's injuries only served to underline the difference between them. When Stauffenberg was finished, Keitel looked up from his copious notes and nodded.
'Very good, Colonel. The Führer should be pleased. However, in your presentation to the Führer today please be brief. There is a full schedule and the Duce will be arriving after lunch. Therefore the meeting will end early to give the Führer a chance to rest before welcoming Mussolini.' He rose to lead the way. Stauffenberg inclined his head in acknowledgement. 'Understood'. The clock on the wall of the poorly illuminated office said 12:25. It was now or never.
'Is there a place I could freshen up before reporting to the Führer? This heat is really taking its toll on my appearance.' Keitel was visibly annoyed at the request for it threatened to unravel his punctuality. But with a wave of his hand he pointed to an empty meeting room down the passage. 'A conference with the Führer does that to a man. 'He almost sneered ' We'll wait for you outside. Remember the Führer is waiting.'
von Haeften rose and followed the Colonel into the room closing the door behind them. Placing the briefcase with the two bombs on a table he set to work. Each package contained 975 grams of German plastic explosive. The first package had two English acid-timed detonators the second only one. Arming the small pencil shaped detonators was a tricky business even for an uninjured person. Inside the copper detonator tube were two glass vials that contained chemicals. Between them ran a copper wire holding back a spiral spring which would fire the electric charge. Stauffenberg had to use his special pliers to carefully crush the vials without damaging the copper wire. The mixing chemicals produced an acid which corroded the copper wire over a set period of time. Stauffenberg now had ten, maybe twenty minutes. These kind of devices were never precise and depended on the surrounding temperature, humidity and often sheer chance. Worse, in a previous attempt - when a bomb had been placed on the Führer's plane in March 1943 - just such a detonator had failed to even arm, so von Haeften had to peer through a minute inspection slit to confirm that the spring was still in the correct position. Only after that could he release the safety pin much like with a normal hand grenade, before finally inserting the detonator into the plastic.
Meanwhile in the Signals Office, fellow-conspirator General Fellgiebel was having a serious case of nerves. A severe looking, clean shaven bespectacled man he always appeared too small or too thin for his uniform. On the 15th, when Stauffenberg had made his previous attempt, he had been seconds away from blocking all communications when the Colonel himself had entered his office to inform him of his inability to arm the bombs. He had then sat through agonizing minutes of waiting while Stauffenberg and he had desperately contacted all fellow-conspirators in Berlin to call off the coup. He hadn't slept that night.
Nor for that matter had he slept well the previous night. His efforts to get control over the various private lines which Nazi big shots like Göring and Himmler maintained to the outside had been singularly unsuccessful. At most he would be able to limit communication to a few lines. Sitting at his command post, he, like Stauffenberg was almost grateful for the oppressive heat that hid his nervousness. The ventilator fan was struggling and there was an office aide trying to get it to function more effectively.
Fellgiebel knew that Stauffenberg had entered the compound nearly two hours ago. There was no need for the colonel to contact him - the plan called for Fellgiebel to wait for the explosion before swinging into action. He looked at the telephone in front of him. Stauffenberg would now be finished with Keitel. Very conscious of the fact that things had nearly gone badly wrong on the 15th, Fellgiebel felt tempted to make a reassuring phone call.
Just as he reached for the telephone, General Stieff reappeared from his inspection round of the switchboard. 'You're right General, even in the Communications Bunker the heat does not let up.' He tossed his officers cap on the table. Anything cold to drink here that you can spare for a weary veteran?
The calm determination of the hunchbacked veteran had a reassuring effect of Fellgiebel. Stieff owed his hunched shoulders to a series of machinegun and shrapnel wounds sustained over more than two years on the Eastern Front. The decorations on his tunic showed that Stieff, like most Wehrmacht officers, had preferred to lead from the front. Fellgiebel glanced at his aide 'Anything we can to do to make a veteran's life and ours easier?'
'I'll see what I can do Herr General' The man was grateful for the opportunity to escape into the open.
'I was thinking of checking on Stauffenberg, Stieff. Any news?'
'Nothing, but that’s as it should be. The first we should hear of him is when that entire lot is blown to kingdom come.'
Fellgiebel's hand rested on the receiver. Stieff disapprovingly shook his head. Fellgiebel was an engineer by training and had last seen service in the Great War. Too many desk soldiers Stieff thought and tried to straighten up. The scar tissue on his back was troubling him again
'Please don't call him General, he's got enough on his mind as it is.'[16]
12:30 am
Himmler's HQ complex within the Wolfschanze
As head of the entire SS apparatus, Reichsführer SS Heinrich Himmler kept his own separate headquarters complex outside the inner Wolfschanze security zone. Seated at his desk between files, Himmler in his black pure wool uniform felt the oppressive heat more than most. But like von Stauffenberg he was grateful for it, fo
r Heinrich Himmler too, was nervous. Today, the head of the SS knew, was another day on which Colonel von Stauffenberg would be in Hitler's presence. As head of the SS, Himmler controlled not merely the entire German police apparatus but since the take-over of most of military intelligence a few months earlier, virtually all intelligence gathering organisations of the Reich; especially the internal ones. Like many others, Himmler had watched the course of the war turn against the Reich after Stalingrad and Kursk, had watched the Slavic hordes advance towards the borders of the Reich unerringly for over a year, while in Italy and France even the best SS units had been unable to make a difference in the allied advances. In addition to this more or less open knowledge about the general situation, Himmler also saw the monthly secret Gestapo reports on the nations morale and knew just what allied bombing and military reverses were doing to the civilian population. Prompted by Schellenberg he had begun putting out his own covert feelers to the western allies in 1943. But he had not informed his spy- chief of this; the risk was too high. Even the Reichsführer SS was not immune from a charge of disloyalty and he thought himself above all a loyal man. Had they known that their proposals did not differ greatly from his, the opposition leaders would have been very surprised. They would have been even more surprised had they understood that the channel for their approaches to London, at least sometimes, were the same as Himmler’s - the Swedish bankers Jacob and Markus Wallenberg.
The Valkyrie Option Page 4